Knight of Light!

The God of Death felt a deep sense of injustice.

In the shadowy realms of the underworld, I have seen many who have served as [Trainee Gods of Death], but none have thrived as remarkably as Lance. For a [God of Death] stationed in the netherworld, surviving seven to eight hundred years, or even beyond a millennium, would be a common occurrence.

Yet, Lance is no deity; he is merely a mortal. Is it conceivable for a human to endure for seven, eight hundred, or even over a thousand years?

Certainly not.

It's exceedingly abnormal, to say the least.

Unless, of course, Lance is a [False God].

For a [False God], living beyond a thousand years would be typical.

But Lance isn't one. At best, he could manage five or six hundred years, perhaps stretching a century further with the aid of some arcane elixir when his natural life nears its end.

Regardless, Lance's survival beyond a millennium as a human is utterly atypical.

I've often heard of the [Gods of Death] from hell who can tolerate an [Death Trainee], but never the reverse.

He didn't want to be branded a disgrace among the Hell's [Gods of Death].

In the dark corridors of hell, whenever he thought of Lance as the [Apprentice Death God], he would secretly wish for his swift demise, hoping such a turn of fate would earn him a promotion and a raise, securing him the official title of [Death God].

Hunched over on the ground, Lance scratched his head with his dragon-like claws. His superior [Death], though proficient in many respects, was excessively loquacious.

He had this disconcerting habit of wishing for Lance's death now and then.

Lance had long noticed this because whenever he failed to request [leave], his superior would assign him particularly perilous missions. Had he been any ordinary human, such tasks could have easily claimed his life five or six times over.

Luckily, he was far from ordinary. After each mission, he would feign being on the brink of death, gravely wounded, just to appease his superior.

However, his act was eventually betrayed by a gossipy [Trainee Death] who revealed that the blood Lance sported was merely ketchup. When his superior discovered the ruse, he nearly stormed out of hell, brandishing his death scythe in a fit of rage.

If I had realized just how much this fellow would gripe, I certainly would have requested a [God of Death] of the opposite sex when I petitioned my superiors.

"Really, is it reasonable to assume that someone as exemplary as myself is on the brink of death daily?" Lance quipped with a wry smile.

"Am I really expecting you to die? No, I'm looking forward to promoting you, increasing your salary, and making you a permanent staff member, my friend."

"Well, then you'll be waiting quite some time," Lance retorted. "I've just returned from the Elf Kingdom, where I partook of the [Fountain of Life]. I reckon I've got another five or six hundred years."

"Enough with your tales! Every time it's the same story. You're either miraculously escaping death with some enchanted pill or some arcane entity bestows you with centuries of life. What's next? Claiming you're the mythical immortal?"

"In all seriousness, when will you finally meet your end? If death isn't on your horizon, perhaps you could actually show up for work? I've amassed quite the collection of... ahem, extremely lucrative bounties. Complete them and you could live quite comfortably for ages."

Solomon, the god of death, resigned himself to the reality that the long-lived Lance wouldn't be departing this world anytime soon. So, he decided it was time to put him to work. After all, it's not as if Lance had been idle for a mere century.

He gathered numerous perilous bounties, waiting for Lance, the trainee Death God, to report for duty, thereby securing his own promotion and pay raise.

"At the moment, I'm not inclined to work," Lance casually confessed. "Actually, I'm considering resigning. Your daily hopes for my promotion and raise are frankly unnerving. You know me, I'm a [trainee death god] with no ambitions."

"Striving for a hellish promotion and a salary increase isn't my style. I'd rather live a bit longer."

"Really?" Solomon perked up, barely containing his delight. "Write it down then. Draft your resignation letter immediately! If you do, I'll accept it without a second thought!"

Solomon couldn't wait for Lance to resign. It would free him to find a new [trainee god of death]. Recent years had brought many promising talents to his attention, and with just a bit of nurturing, any one of them could become the [agent] of the God of Hell and Death in the mortal realm.

The salary Solomon allocated to Lance was substantial enough to sustain eight or nine individuals! It could have supported more than ten or twenty [Shinigami].

The reason Solomon hadn't ascended the ranks was precisely because he had yet to encounter a [trainee death god] as exceptional as Lance to take his place.

Another contributing factor was his allocation of resources; he paid the highest wages and trained the fewest [trainee Shinigami].

And to whom did these wages go? None other than Lance!

Because of Lance's hefty salary, Solomon was left without the funds to train other [trainee Shinigami].

"Can't you just terminate the contract we signed?" Solomon asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Are you really giving up on being a [trainee of death]?"

Solomon initially thought Lance was merely jesting, but it became clear that he genuinely had no intention of continuing as a [trainee of death]. Becoming a trainee to the God of Death was a prestigious role. After one's demise, one would train in the underworld for a time, with a legitimate chance to rise as an official [God of Death].

An outstanding [Apprentice Death God] like Lance would have transitioned into a Hell [Reaper] immediately after death.

By renouncing his [Death Trainee] status, Lance was losing more than just a title.

In Solomon's eyes, he was losing a formidable successor. Yet, he remained optimistic. If he could identify and cultivate a few new exceptional [Apprentice Shinigami], his promotion to a second-level [Reaper] could be imminent.

The benefits of becoming a second-level [God of Death] were significantly superior to those of the first level.

For one, the plain black Death robe would transform into a striking black and red ensemble, drawing eyes wherever one went.

The jet-black Death Scythe would undergo a transformation too, becoming a magnificent black and red artifact.

Moreover, there was the enticing possibility of journeys to paradise, an opportunity not afforded to lesser reapers.

All the other Gods of Death had been promoted in the same period, yet Solomon remained the sole exception due to Lance's unusual longevity. Now, with Lance's resignation, Solomon harbored hope for his long-awaited promotion.

"After working alongside you for so long, it's difficult for me to let you go so abruptly," Solomon confessed, his voice tinged with sincerity. "You've always been the ideal [Apprentice Death God] to succeed me in my duties."

Solomon knew he had to express his gratitude towards Lance. It wasn't just professional courtesy; he genuinely admired him.

"If I didn't value you, would I wish for your demise? It's more about my reluctance to see you leave," he added thoughtfully.

Lance, somewhat puzzled by the sudden warmth, decided to clarify a perk of his resignation. "I appreciate your kind words. Just to confirm, after a trainee Death God resigns, he can summon the undead from hell freely and unlimited times for three hundred years, right?"

"That's correct," Solomon nodded. "Given your exemplary performance, you're entitled to summon undead forces from hell. You also have ten opportunities to summon the undead bone dragon, which resides beyond Dragon Island. However, summoning such a formidable creature depends on your skill. A being of that caliber can refuse a necromancer's call if it so chooses. You're aware of this, aren't you?"

Lance nodded in acknowledgment.

"Here I was, ready to offer you a promotion and a salary increase, yet here we are, discussing your termination," Solomon sighed, a mix of disappointment and resignation in his voice. "Nonetheless, after your passing, I will still advocate strongly for you to become a God of Death in Hell. Don't disappoint my expectations. But tell me, why did you raise a young dragon? Did you resign to become a dragon knight? Surely, there are greater powers than a young dragon's combat abilities?"

"I've decided to sit for the exam to become a Light Knight at the Light Temple," Lance revealed, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"So, you wish to resign to become the Light Dragon Knight of the Light Temple?" Solomon clarified, attempting to mask his surprise.

"Yes, that's my plan," Lance affirmed.

"Very well then," Solomon replied, his tone now one of acceptance and finality.