The Paladin of Light (without Common Sense)

The journey to the merchant town had been relatively peaceful… too peaceful, considering the group consisted of a vampire, a naive witch, a resentful cynic, and a minor goddess with an eternal hangover.

The surprising thing wasn't that they attracted trouble, but that trouble hadn't yet sent a formal letter of enrollment to join the group.

"Why do I feel like fighting monsters was healthier than traveling with you?" Ayato muttered, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Because it was," Isolde retorted coldly.

"Bah! I'm the fresh air of this procession!" Sylphidia shouted, raising her arms and letting the wind ruffle her hair like a tavern rock star. "The Magnificent Goddess is on tour! Say hello, commoners!"

"Her aura is so divine... If only she dressed more modestly!" Vera sighed, her eyes shining but with a certain skepticism due to her attire.

The villagers didn't even deign to look at them. Which, in retrospect, should have been an ominous sign: when the common people ignore such an absurd procession, something worse is about to appear.

And it did.

A metallic flash interrupted the calm of the market.

A man covered from head to toe in shining armor burst into the square, raising a banner with a golden sun that looked like something out of a low-budget religious drama.

"Listen, people!" he thundered in a solemn voice. "I have traced the corruption here! A vampire, a witch, a possible Dark Lord, and—" he pointed at Sylphidia with a trembling finger—"a heretical minor spirit!"

The peasants looked at each other uncomfortably.

"Huh? Sermons again...?" one muttered.

"Wasn't this the one who exorcised a goat last month?" another asked.

A rat crossed near the paladin's feet.

He raised his sword as if he had seen Satan himself.

"An emissary of the Evil One! The rodent of the abyss betrays you!"

Vera raised her hand timidly.

"Sir... don't you think you're exaggerating a bit? It's just a rat."

"No! Clearly sent by the Dark Lord!"

Ayato sighed and replied.

"Look, I'm not saying you're entirely wrong, but if every rat were an agent of evil... half the world would have died in the bubonic plague."

Isolde raised her hand to her face.

Sylphidia, for her part, applauded as if this were the best circus performance of her life.

“What kind of noisy insect are you?” Isolde spat.

“I am Sir Dakim Gallard of the Order of Radiance! And my duty is to purge darkness from this world, even when it disguises itself as beauty or comedy!”

“Translation: a second-class knight with too much incense on his mind,” Ayato commented.

The paladin ignored him. 

His armor gleamed as he uncoiled an object: a long, blackened leather whip with traces of faded runes on the handle.

“Behold the Ashen Lash! The whip that once purged demons, vampires, and witches. With it I will banish you!”

For a moment, the crowd held its breath.

The whip whistled through the air with a force that showed the man was not entirely inexperienced.

Ayato was forced to move to avoid it, and the ground creaked where the blow fell.

Isolde frowned, recognizing the weapon.

(That whip... it was once a feared relic. But since that incident with its last wielder, its "blessing" has been broken. Now it's nothing more than reinforced leather. And he doesn't even know it.)

The fight wasn't serious, but it wasn't to be taken lightly either:

The paladin lashed out with brute force and surprisingly disciplined technique while alternating between the whip and a spear he carried.

Ayato dodged with minimal movements, tired of the theatrics.

Sylphidia threw wine on the ground, and the knight slipped, but still managed to stay on his feet.

Vera tried to stop them, screaming that someone was going to get hurt.

"You know what's the worst part?" Ayato growled, dodging another blow. "At least you're more dangerous than most of the idiots chasing me."

"I take that as a divine compliment!" the paladin roared.

Finally, Ayato shoved him with a simple motion, and the knight fell face first into a puddle.

The whip became tangled in a barrel, inert, like any common rope.

Stumbling, the knight rose, his face covered in mud, but his pride intact.

"You are worthy adversaries! A divine mission binds me to you until I purge your corruption!"

Ayato was silent. Then he sighed.

"No... no... someone kill me now."

"You offend me, insect," Isolde said contemptuously. "I do not share a path with rats who smell of cheap incense."

"Welcome to the eternal carnival!" Sylphidia toasted with an invisible glass. "Do you want wine or a sermon?"

"Another knight to the group!" Vera exclaimed happily.

But then, a roar rent the air.

The earth shook and the village gates shook as a gigantic shadow rose on the horizon.

Three jaws glinted with burning saliva: a massive Cerberus, rusty chains dangling from its neck, burst into the fields.

Panic erupted in the square. Peasants ran in all directions. Guards shouted useless orders.

The monster opened three mouths at once and exhaled a foul breath that scorched the village entrance.

"Oh, fantastic," Ayato growled. "I've been missing the pets of hell."

"A direct emissary of the Dark Lord!" The paladin shouted, his eyes blazing. "Finally, an indisputable sign!"

"...I swear, if you mention 'divine signs' to me again, I'll shove yours where the light doesn't reach," Ayato muttered.

Isolde narrowed her eyes, recognizing the real danger.

"That monster... if we don't do something, it'll wipe out everyone here."

Vera nervously clutched her spellbook.

Sylphidia, on the other hand, raised her invisible cup.

"Time for a feast of fire and barking~!"

The paladin stood on guard, uncoiling the Ashen Lash again.

Although its divine glow was extinguished, its movements revealed true technique and strength.

"Battle brothers, let us join forces in the name of the Light!"

Ayato was silent for a second. Then he looked at his companions, resigned.

"Great. Now I'm this idiot's 'battle brother.'"

"Resign yourself," Isolde smiled sarcastically. "At least it serves as bait."

The Cerberus roared, rushing toward them.

And so, the vampiress, the naive witch, the drunken goddess, the weary antihero, and the fanatical paladin were forced to fight together, not for pleasure, but because not even fate could tolerate so much chaos without adding a hellhound the size of a cathedral.

“Sometimes, life itself conspires to bring together the most incompatible people. And when a Cerberus shows up in the middle of the plaza, even the most annoying fanatic can become an ally… if only for a few minutes. Ayato knew this well: this wouldn't be the last monster to swallow his peace, nor the last idiot to join his odyssey.”