Yet faced with all this adoration and expectation, Saul himself made a choice no one had anticipated.
When he was fifteen, the Chapter held a grand coming-of-age ceremony for him. By tradition, he could have risen straight into the Chapter's command ranks, even becoming the Chapter Master's successor.
But at the ceremony, under the eyes of all his brothers, the boy refused every privilege.
"I am neither a saint nor a god." His voice, clear and firm, echoed through the magnificent sanctuary. "I am only Saul. A lucky child you rescued from hell. You bought my life with your blood and glory. So until I am worthy of fighting beside you, I will accept no glory that is not mine."
"I ask to begin in the Tenth Company, as an ordinary Scout. To earn your trust through my actions. To prove my loyalty through my record in battle."
His words left the entire sanctuary silent for a long time.
At last, Chapter Master Phoros slowly stepped down from his command seat and approached Saul. He studied the boy, seeing an awe-inspiring resolve in those eyes.
"As you wish." Phoros's voice was full of pride and approval. "Brother Saul. Welcome to the Sons of Sorrow."
And so Saul's military career began.
As he grew, the passive ability called "miracle probability" and the "curse of misfortune" embedded in the very marrow of the Sons of Sorrow produced a reaction no one could have foreseen, one of extraordinary intensity.
The Sons of Sorrow discovered that they were still the unluckiest wretches in the universe.
They still encountered the strongest enemies on the simplest missions. Their warships' engines still failed at the most critical moments. Their weapons still inexplicably jammed when they needed firepower most.
Fate still drove them into certain death, time and