Argenti

A paragon knight of the Knights of Beauty.

He embodies righteousness and honor, possessing an admirable nobility. As a solitary wanderer in the cosmos, he wholeheartedly embraces the principles of "Beauty."

Upholding the honor of beauty in the universe has been Argenti's sacred duty. From the very beginning, he approached this duty with piety and unwavering conviction.

His hometown was ravaged by war for years, and the memories of his early childhood were tainted by the horrors of bloodshed and relentless shelling. Amidst the chaos, he sought refuge underground and, by chance, discovered an ocarina beneath a stone tile.

With trembling hands, he attempted to coax a melody from the instrument.

However, his "music" proved to be terrible.

Yet, the ethereal notes emanating from his ocarina became his sanctuary, a spiritual escape from the harsh reality.

Over time, the melodic strains faded into the recesses of his memory, becoming a mysterious and elusive moment. It was only years later, during a bard tour, when he saved a child from the flames of war and received a precious ocarina as a token of gratitude, that the melodies of his past resurfaced.

Holding the exquisite instrument in his hands, he examined its flawless and noble craftsmanship. Once again, the melodies of his childhood converged, evoking a flood of emotions and memories.

However, his "music" remained terrible.

"I'm too clumsy to master this instrument..."

He murmured in self-deprecation. Yet, after a profound moment of contemplation, a resolute courage ignited within him. He resolved to try once more, to weave a melody.

The music remained unchanged, but this time, he laughed wholeheartedly.

"Despite the terrible music, I love it. I believe it to be beautiful."

Carefully stowing away his ocarina, he once again embarked on his journey without hesitation.

After leaving his hometown, he became the apprentice of an elderly master.

Alongside physical and mental training, he would often listen to his master's tales of bygone eras — stories of transcendent beauty and mystical phenomena witnessed by the Minstrels.

"It was a world bathed in amber, draped in undisturbed stillness, where every being shed tears for the magnificent wonders veiled beneath its surface."

"Rumor has it that Idrila, after embarking on a journey spanning numerous cycles of Thirteen Amber Eras, will make a triumphant return to the universe during the elusive thirteenth month."

Day after day, his master imparted the essence of beauty to him. He learned to go beyond mere poetic recitation and embrace devotion as the embodiment of beauty, truly upholding its philosophy.

He understood that beauty was not just a code to follow but a way of life, an existence known as a knight.

However, his master departed from this world, and he once again set out on his lonely journey. He contemplated his existence, pondering the nature of his being. Instead of lamenting his solitude, he focused on becoming a true knight.

During his stay in an old city, he labored to restore its dilapidated streets.

He vanquished nightmarish monsters, and with the arrival of spring, rabbits frolicked once again in the woods.

He also briefly found companionship in the presence of another knight, who professed his faith in the blessings of the goddess residing within his armor.

"To give one's soul requires understanding that each encounter might be one's last, yet retreating is never an option."

"Carry these words of courage with you, my dear friend."

He contemplated on his lance, which bore the stains of countless battles fought in the name of Beauty.

With solemn reverence, he wiped away each mark, a testament to his tireless odyssey toward the pursuit of Beauty.

Since embarking on the Path of Beauty, a path of asceticism, he had faced numerous trials. Some presented themselves as prayers, others as opportunities for repentance, and still others as the seductive whispers of the Triple Demons.

Fearlessly, he confronted these temptations with an unwavering lance and an indomitable spirit. With each victory, his weaknesses, greed, and distractions dissolved into oblivion. He pledged to offer his soul and life at the feet of the Aeon of Beauty.

The profane words of the Triple Demons resembled fragmented ravings, morphing into manifestations of human desires.

They embodied the crass pursuit of personal gain, shameless indulgence in sin, the allure of power, and the enticement of battle and worldly pleasures.

Their aim was to erode repentance and replace it with the banality of common sense.

His blood mingled with his flowing locks on the battlefield, with each crimson droplet intertwined with honor. His lance stood resolute at his side, blessed by the divine to retain its everlasting sharpness.

The echoes of his esteemed master and comrades transformed into whispers. His spear would never yield, even if his master had succumbed to evil temptations.

Drenched in blood, teetering on the precipice of consciousness, he finally discerned a faint murmur that seemed to emanate from the very fabric of existence.

"You defy infamy. You proclaim glory. You are the Knights of Beauty.

With each triumph, you must confront yourselves anew, peering into the depths of your hearts and acknowledging the potential for malevolence."

"Congratulations! Once again, you have triumphed in the Trial of Reflection."

The knights embraced diverse approaches in their pursuit of Beauty.

Some fervently embodied their beliefs until their final days, while others grappled with assumptions and defied heresies that could lead them into despair.

Some adorned themselves in armor and waged battles, while others saw themselves as unworthy, considering themselves the "ugly ones" unable to don the robe of beauty.

Yet, the unchanging truth remained in their collective quest to unravel the enigma of Idrila in the vast universe.

He vowed to uphold humility, mercy, and justice, remaining steadfast in honoring his oaths along the arduous path.

"Those freaks!... The Knights of Beauty are a bunch of freaks!"

As rumors of Idrila's demise spread throughout the cosmos, their perplexity deepened.

Piety intermingled with doubt, and laughter intertwined with lunacy.

Notions of honor, reputation, and infamy dissolved into nothingness.

This marked the end of everything.

When he finally encountered his former comrade, he found a knight who had become a fanatic, lost in a blind pursuit of power.

The former hero who had wielded a legendary weapon and vanquished the sky devourer had degenerated into a beast. His armor transformed into the scaly hide of the behemoth he had slain, his weapon into unyielding claws and fangs, and his blood into a viscous and restless flame. His eyes, once filled with wisdom, now burned with untamed wildness. The voice that had once addressed him as "my dear friend" had dwindled to a hissing cry.

The words spoken during the trial carried the weight of the Finality's impending prophecy, signaling the looming end.

Will he, himself... succumb to the clutches of the Omen of Evil?