By Zephyria 
The meat that man sold was redder and more vibrant than that of other stalls. Since I had been eyeing it from the start, I readily took Ruben’s hand and pulled him closer. Benjamin followed immediately, and Marianne dragged her feet as she approached.
The man held up the raw meat skewered on a stick, showing off its bright red grain, and said proudly.
“Look at that mage walking by, monster meat has blue spots here and there. Do you know how much effort it takes to sell lamb of such excellent quality in the Widdrow Duchy?”
“Ah. I’m sorry.”
“What’s there to be sorry about? Just buy one each. One per person? Spicy, or not spicy?”
“Hmm, I… Spicy.”
As Marianne answered easily, Benjamin glanced back at me.
“Is one enough?”
“No, buy as much as you want.”
“Then I’ll take two spicy and two non-spicy.”
“Mika, what about you?”
I ate well regardless of whether food was spicy or bland. However, thinking I could feed Ruben more if he enjoyed it, I made up my mind.
“I’ll take non-spicy… I’ll take four, including Ruben’s.”
“Great, great. Three spicy, six non-spicy.”
The merchant hummed with a cheerful gesture and, with nimble hands, quickly handed us the grilled meat skewers. Ruben hesitated a little before accepting the skewer, but he readily ate what was given to him. After he finished one skewer, he said he was full, so I didn’t offer him more.
After a day of walking around and buying various items with our hands full, we returned to the Duke’s mansion lodging. By this time, Marianne and Rubel’s conditions had visibly improved, which was a great relief.
I sat Ruben down and performed Jin Gi Do In once more. I used the energy that had haphazardly seeped into the child’s body to gently coax it towards his not-yet-ripe Dantian, instead of expelling the Turbid Qi. After encouraging him to manage his Mana well, I put him to bed.
However, I worried about the child suffering alone in a distant land, so I went in and out several more times during the night to check on Ruben. Ruben slept soundly without waking once, but he occasionally made whimpering sounds.
I should have left the child in the capital. Such thoughts crossed my mind several times, but what could be done about what had already happened? I merely scanned his fair face once to confirm he wasn’t running a fever, and then left.
❖ ❖ ❖
Thursday.
The children of the special Imperial Knights from this cohort, who had departed from the capital, all arrived. Duke Widrow decided to hold a small welcome party for them, so from noon, we followed the servants’ guidance to the Duke’s mansion’s banquet hall.
Nine round tables were set up in the hall. Each table was large enough to comfortably seat about eight people. On them, a large, beautifully roasted bird dish, the hot beef stew we had already become familiar with, and several types of salad with thick sauce greeted the children invitingly.
Familiar faces could be seen in the distance, but there was no time to greet them. Experienced women and men had already taken their seats and beckoned the new children closer as they arrived.
My three children and I also followed the beckoning hand of someone and sat at one of the tables.
At our table sat a man in his mid-twenties who looked taciturn, with one ear cut short. His bulky, enormous body, clad in just a thin shirt, exuded a formidable presence. He had kind brown eyes, but his short-cut chestnut hair and heavy build detracted from his benevolent impression.
Marianne, the most sociable and talkative, bowed first.
“Hello, um… Senior?”
“Elvin Brooks. You can call me Lord Brooks.”
“Yes, Lord Brooks! I am Marianne Philodendore. Please feel free to call me Marianne.”
“Yes.”
Seeing that, the remaining three quickly introduced themselves.
“I am Michael Ernhardt. Please feel free to call me by my name as well.”
“Yes.”
“I am Benjamin Claudian.”
“Yes.”
“…I am Rubel Anti Sieron. I look forward to working with you.”
“Yes.”
Marianne placed her hands on the table, looked at us seriously, then at Elvin, and then lightly bumped her forehead against the table. I was puzzled, unable to understand why the child was struggling.
Just then, a man with long, black bangs covering his right eye sauntered over. He glanced around at those seated at the table and opened his mouth in a flippant voice.
“Damn, why did you pick these guys? Life’s tough enough as it is.”
“Ah… Hello!”
“Uh, yeah. Hello… A mage?”
His gaze flickered towards Marianne, looking as if he were seeing something truly bothersome, which offended me. However, the man scanned not only Marianne but all of us with the same look, and his expression, especially when looking at Rubel, was particularly contorted.
Elvin Brooks, already seated, replied in a calm voice.
“They arrived last.”
“I told you to pick them out early and snatch them up. What if they don’t last even six months?”
“What.”
“It’s not ‘what’! I’ve told you multiple times that you and I alone cannot bear the weight of this rough and arduous life! If we don’t pull it off properly this year, we’ll face one of three deaths next winter: freezing, starvation, or dying of old age!”
“…”
It was extremely rude speech and behavior.
Judging by his tone, the people sitting at this table seemed to be seniors who would help them in their future lives, but from the start, I was rendered speechless by his displeasure. I silently observed the man’s aura. The other children also sat quietly without a word, waiting.
Then, Elvin Brooks pointed at the newcomer with his chin and introduced him instead.
“Hugh Benson. You can call him Lord Benson.”
“…Yeah. Whatever you want to call me, call me or don’t. Sigh, really. Alright, so…”
Hugh Benson’s gaze, as if ignoring the other children, swept past them and fixed directly on Rubel.
Beneath his alluring, emerald-green eyes were dark circles, and his body was unnaturally thin, not matching his handsome features and tall stature. He wore several layers of black clothing over his slender frame, making him appear even more diminutive.
“You must be the Prince. So… should I use extreme honorifics, or what?”
“…No.”
“Right, since neither he nor I are leaving the Widdrow Duchy anyway, let’s just get along with a casual acquaintance. Eat up, everyone. The days when you can eat this much food in this land are numbered.”
Hugh Benson quickly reached out and tore off a hind leg of the bird, placing it on his plate. Elvin Brooks, watching him, took out a handkerchief and offered it. After wiping his hands, he returned the greasy handkerchief to Elvin. Elvin nodded once and put the handkerchief away. I watched blankly.
I was greatly surprised.
Elvin Brooks was a Sword Master. He was a swordsman with a strong body and immense power, so strong that his breathing made the surrounding Mana ripple like waves. However, he was still a man who followed the Righteous Path. One could infer many things, such as him wielding his sword with his right hand and using a steadfast sword style that endured rather than relying on swift footwork.
But what about the flippant man who came after him?
There was no sign of martial arts training from his fingertips to his toes. Had this man reached some lofty realm? I quickly scanned him, but the longsword hanging at his waist was merely grimy, showing no signs of maintenance.
My gaze fell again on his black clothing. I asked without realizing it.
“…Were you close with Professor Roberts?”
“What?”
Only then did his gaze, which had been buried in the meat, shift to the table.
“Me and that old man? Absolutely not! Never, ever! We will never see each other again. Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely! We are as far apart as the Shatun Desert and the Duke Grimsbein Family.”
“…You resemble him greatly.”
“Wow, you’re swearing at me on our first meeting. No, what are you looking at?”
Yes, it was the same from the way he walked when he approached the table. Only then did I realize what Hugh Benson’s primary weapon was.
I clicked open the pouch I had fastened to my waist. Seeing the Mithril thread that came out of it, Hugh Benson’s large eyes blinked, and his jaw dropped.
It was repulsive to see the piece of meat resting on his tongue, but it was satisfying to see Hugh, after swallowing his food, his eyes shining with joy, shake Elvin’s shoulder. Hugh wriggled his hips, half-rose from his seat, and carefully examined what I held in my hand.
In the process, not even the slightest breath of air touched the Mithril thread. He was clearly someone who knew that this artifact had to be handled with extreme care.
“Wow, damn. What is it? No… no, no. It came out here? Did Roberts give it to you?”
“Yes.”
“What was the pretty one’s name again?”
“…Michael Ernhardt.”
Hugh Benson leaned his chair closer to ask me something, but from the front, a sound was heard as he rubbed an audio amplification artifact with his fingertip.
A servant raised his voice to announce Duke Widrow’s arrival. It was a spacious hall, filled with the murmuring sounds from all sides, yet, perhaps because everyone was a martial artist who had reached a certain realm, they clearly heard the servant’s voice. Instantly, silence fell all around.
Click, click. The sound of footsteps clearly cut through the silence.
My uncle had told me many stories about Duke Widrow. He had mentioned that my uncle and Duke Widrow were classmates at the Academy, and that Duke Widrow was a jovial and good-natured friend.
He had also told me that they often associated because their statuses matched and they had much to learn from each other, and that she was a woman who was particularly skilled with dual swords.
However, he had never mentioned that her left arm was severed just above the elbow.
The Duke of Widrow, exuding the overwhelming presence of a Sword Master, strode onto the low platform at the foremost table and smiled faintly.
Her short-cut silver hair and a reddish scar that ran across her left eye were particularly noticeable.
“Welcome, everyone. I am truly happy to be able to meet such spirited and fine friends again this year. I am Felice Widrow. The mistress of this harsh northern land, and the Duke of Widrow, who will be your direct superior for the next few years.”
“…”
“Now, shall we start with a round of applause?”
I readily raised my hands and clapped.
It wasn’t just because she told us to; it was reverence for someone who had overcome a harsh life that prompted the applause.
The special Imperial Knights, who had already become familiar with her, sent a mix of cheers and jeers. Hearing that, Duke Widrow’s lips curled upwards.
It was then that I understood. The knights here were not lax. They were simply free.