This is the chapter that tells the background to get to know the character
Sir Alric Valthorne had once been a Radiant Knight of the Bright Order. A paragon of faith, sworn to protect the people.
But he had seen the truth—the Order had rotted from within. The clergy no longer cared for the people. Their sermons were hollow, their justice corrupt. When Alric turned his back on them, they refused to let him go.
The clerics invoked God's curse upon him.
Dark energy surged toward him, a black tide meant to consume his very being. But Alric was no ordinary knight.
He raised his sword high, its golden blade gleaming under the temple's cold light.
"Hexa the Great, Hexa, no one is stronger than you! Bestow your light!"
The curse did not just vanish.
The entire forest beside him disappeared.
Golden flames roared around him, searing the ground, burning away corruption itself.
The clerics stepped back, their faith faltering before the impossible. They did not pursue him further—but they would never allow him to become a symbol of rebellion.
And so, Alric Valthorne was declared dead.
For years, Alric lived in the shadows. No longer a knight, no longer a servant of the temple.
He became a hired sword, taking small jobs in villages, wielding his strength for coin. He hid his past well, never revealing his former rank.
Until the Mountain Killers came.
The village headman had hired Alric to protect a caravan. It should have been simple work. And it was—until two figures appeared on the road.
A bandit? No. A fighter. A brute of a man, fists hardened by war. They called him the Zronan Killer.
And beside him—a silent woman. Annie the Esper.
The other guards collapsed before they could even draw their weapons.
Alric barely had time to process what happened before—
A fist smashed into his face.
He hit the ground hard.
Another kick sent him sprawling, his armor fracturing under the sheer force.
Alric coughed, blood splattering onto the dirt.
The Zronan Killer crouched beside him, whispering:
"Tell the headman next time, he should value the villagers' goods. Don't cheat them with inflated prices."
Alric's vision blurred. His body ached.
But something awoke inside him.
A golden aura flared around him, fierce and unyielding.
His broken armor crumbled away. He rose to his feet.
His sword, massive and radiant, was back in his hands.
"If the villagers want to sell their goods, they'll find another way," he said coldly. "I am no lawyer for the headman, but I know the cost of protection. I don't fight for free."
With one swing, he unleashed a shockwave.
The Zronan Killer crossed his arms to block it—but his bracelets shattered, and he was hurled backward.
"You're one of the damn Radiant Knights," he hissed, staggering. "Annie, help me!"
Alric's eyes narrowed. "So you have a psychic watching your back. Who sent you?"
The Zronan Killer exhaled sharply. "Not your concern."
"You're fighting in the dark. You know I work for the headman—but I don't know who you serve. Or is this your justice? Attacking a caravan and stealing supplies for the villagers?"
Annie had been focusing, trying to break into Alric's mind. She failed.
Her silver eyes flickered. "I'm not in this fight."
Alric smirked. "You're strong, but you cannot bend my will, Esper."
The Zronan Killer, still catching his breath, muttered: "Why aren't you a Radiant Knight anymore?"
Alric took a step forward. "Because I refuse to serve men who place their own greed above the people."
Step.
"Because I refuse to kneel before corruption."
Step.
The Zronan Killer tensed. He needed an escape.
"Why don't you join us?"
Alric halted. "The bandit crew?"
"We are not bandits." The Zronan Killer clenched his fists. "The villagers are starving. They begged the headman for help—he ignored them. So we gave this caravan a warning. We are their voice."
Alric's grip tightened. "I don't believe you."
He raised his sword. A final strike.
Then—
"Join us. Let us prove it to you."
Alric hesitated.
He was angry. Angry at being beaten. Angry at their strength. But the words join us echoed in his mind.
There was no malice in them.
Only resolve.
His blade hovered in the air. For the first time in years, he considered something new.
"You approach me peacefully," he murmured.
"I will give you a chance to prove it."
And so, the fallen knight—Sir Alric Valthorne—joined the Mountain Killers.