Steven stared in awe at the knight before him, then whispered below his breath in pure mesmerization, "Nott the Honourable."

As though replying to his words, Nott fell to one knee, the heavy clang of undead armor echoing softly as he bowed its head to Steven in solemn respect.

Steven’s lips curled upward at the reaction from the Undead Knight. His name was rather an interesting thing to worry over. "Nott the Honourable... like not Honourable?"

Nott’s head shifted slightly, the faint creak of ancient joints sounding as though replying to Steven’s question.

Apparently, he could not talk.

Steven called up the system immediately, curious to see if there was any information displayed on the knight. And luckily—there was.

---

{Summon: Nott the Honourable}

{Status: Common Knight}

{Description: A knight must protect those that are its masters by all means, even if it meant killing oneself. Nott had sworn under this command, yet let his heart get the better of him. He protected a princess, however loved her at the same time. This led to the dishonourable act of defying the code and impregnating the princess. Nott was executed and disgraced, his name written in history books as "Not the Honourable." He sees you as a master now.}

---

"PUHAHAHAHA!" Steven burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as tears nearly formed in his eyes after reading the story. He found it far funnier than he probably should have.

At this, Nott tilted his head, the hollow glow in his eye sockets flickering faintly as though questioning Steven’s sudden outburst. It didn’t bother the young man in the slightest, at least not until he was done laughing.

"Sorry," Steven said, exhaling deeply, wiping his eyes. "It’s just quite funny. I guess protection wasn’t invented in that time," he sighed.

Nott’s eyes dimmed slightly, whether from embarrassment or restrained anger, it was impossible to tell. Still, he remained kneeling, unmoving, loyal even in disgrace.

"I’d like to see how great you are at fighting," Steven spoke after a moment, his tone calmer. "Maybe in the sanctuary."

With a simple wave of his hand, Steven dismissed Nott through the system.

In the next moment, the mighty knight faded into nothingness, his form breaking apart like dust carried away by an unseen wind, leaving Steven as the last person present in the room. He wasted no time checking the final two stats remaining.

[Souls: 0/1000]

He tapped on the soul stat for further information, but nothing appeared.

Steven had grown accustomed to this. He knew the system all too well—when stats came with explanations, others were simply meant to be ’figure it out as you go’, courtesy of his sponsor.

He moved to the last stat.

{Command over the Dead: 1/20}

{To get an undead, one must excite the sponsor.}

Steven frowned deeply at the description below. "Sure... I should excite a bastard that needed me to kill a god, a fool that could see fate, and face a disaster just to get mildly interested," he muttered darkly. "Nott’s gonna be lonely for a while..."

As if on cue, a loud chiming sound rang through the room.

From a speaker at the top right corner, a calm yet commanding voice echoed.

"All Awakened, move to the cafeteria on floor four for dinner."

Perfect timing.

Steven’s gut grumbled violently in protest. ’Entering the Sanctuary must really consume a lot of energy,’ he thought, rising from the bed. With his card in hand, he exited his room, locking it securely behind him.

In the hallway, others were already emerging from their rooms, flooding the corridors with quiet chatter and cautious glances. They were probably Half-Awakened like Steven. Maybe even this entire hotel was dedicated solely to Half-Awakened—a place to gather them, train them, and keep them alive.

A way to safeguard the future of the human race, perhaps.

"The only thing I can thank the government for," Steven mumbled under his breath. "Hopefully I won’t also have to pay tax."

---

Soon enough, Steven reached the cafeteria. The room was massive, spanning the entire floor, its ceiling high and elegant. Rows of tables dressed in pristine white tablecloths filled the space, each set with clear empty glasses and neatly placed menus listing the available dishes.

By the time Steven arrived, half the cafeteria was already filled. Some were eating quietly, others chatting in low voices, while a few had already finished their meals and were preparing to leave.

He wasted no time moving forward, heading toward an empty table at the far end where he could sit alone. Picking up the menu, a waiter immediately approached him.

The man was dressed entirely in black, a neatly pressed apron strapped around his waist.

"So, what shall you like to have today, sir?" the man asked, bowing slightly in respect.

This was a good question, one Steven had been asking himself ever since he picked up the menu. Most of the items listed were foods he had only ever seen on television. Naturally, he wanted everything. But for now, he randomly picked two dishes.

The waiter nodded, jotting down the order on a small hook-like notepad in his grasp. He bowed again, but before leaving, he lingered a moment too long, catching Steven’s attention.

"What?" Steven asked, puzzled.

The man shook his head nervously. "Nothing, sir Awakened. I was just wondering... shouldn’t you get more dishes? I mean... you look rather drained of your fats. Probably stress from the realm. Since you’re quite extraordinarily skinny, I think you should order more."

Steven snapped internally.

What was it with people constantly stressing the fact that he looked malnourished?

He frowned sharply. "Just get me what I ordered."

The waiter bowed quickly, sweat trailing down his face. What he had said took courage, he had only hoped to get on Steven’s good side and maybe earn a tip, like he had with other Awakened earlier. Instead, he seemed to have angered this one.

This was a risk to his job.

He hurried away before Steven could even consider filing a complaint.

Steven glanced down at his hands afterward, inspecting them carefully. ’Do I really look that bad?’ he wondered.

And then—

He heard a voice.

"I’m so glad you’re alive!" a young woman exclaimed, approaching his table and sitting in the seat close to him without hesitation.

Steven furrowed his brows, confusion immediately painting his expression. He scanned her face carefully but found no resemblance to anyone he remembered. ’Is this a prank?’ he wondered.

But it wasn’t.

The woman sighed softly, her cheeks flushing red. "I guess I’m not very recognizable here... I’ll introduce myself."

"I am Favour TronVale."

***Author’s art***

Nott the Honourable.