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“I can’t believe the day has come when I actually get to see the Order of the Eight Knights!”

Willas, who was wearing a thick leather helmet, mumbled beside me. His voice was a blend of awe and fear.

“Are you that excited?”

With him making such a fuss, I couldn’t help but ask. For days, Willas, along with Balron, Martin, Yanes, Duran, and a bunch of new soldiers, had been babbling about the Eight Knights… the Eight Knights…

Even if I were promised to see four dragons at once, I wouldn’t be this excited.

Willas practically freaked out like a paladin facing a witch at my question.

“Is that even a question? There was no one in our village who didn’t admire the Eight Knights! Just think about it, the name ‘Order of the Eight Knights’ itself is so cool!”

“What’s so cool about it?”

“You northern folks really know nothing. Even if people don’t know the name of Count Korod, everyone knows who the Eight Knights are! They’re the best swordsmen of the time. If you can’t keep up with their skill, you’re out! The most recently changed member is Lord Hilden, who’s been around for two years, and the longest-serving one is Lord Lyard, who’s been there for ten…”

“Isn’t that just a childish position that, as you get older, is more about politics than skill?”

I looked at Willas with a pitying gaze.

Best swordsman? That’s something you can only judge when everyone’s fighting together. It doesn’t just get handed out by titles.

Realizing his excitement might have been a bit overboard, Willas stopped his rant and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I mean, just saying. I get that it’s partially about name recognition and all… But hey, name recognition counts, right? The important thing is, even if they’re ambiguous, they still have to have a level of skill that’s convincing enough for people to accept them as the best swordsmen! You heard what I said, right? If they don’t have skill, they get replaced right away!”

“That’s true.”

“See? You are so clueless.”

Willas’ snark got me to the point where I couldn’t hold back my own sarcastic retort.

“Yeah, they’re really impressive knights. Too bad we barely see them during wartime.”

Willas fell silent.

“I only learned about the Korod Family after I got here. The whole ‘Eight Knights’ thing? That’s typical of southern folks. They love their wordplay and hollow prestige… And that’s how we got robbed. My father never even mentioned the Eight Knights once.”

“…I was gonna tell you about that, but you were already knocked out and couldn’t hear me, right?”

Willas’ expression turned mischievous as he gave me a little smirk.

Balron and Martin, who were listening nearby, exchanged stunned glances, both amazed and amused by this ridiculous banter.

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the silly joke.

I knew he wasn’t trying to insult me; it was more a way to lighten the mood over an uncomfortable topic.

-Thump!

I kicked Willas’ leg, causing him to burst into laughter and hop away from me.

Sighing, I said, “Anyway, just keep an eye on Vivian.”

Balron and Martin dropped their smiles and nodded seriously.

“Since Count Korod is coming because of the conflict, be ready to stand your ground against those Eight Knights or whatever.”

“Of course.”

With each passing day, as Vivian grew stronger, so did the loyalty of those around her. Balron, Martin, and Willas felt it too.

It seemed they began to build a sort of hope in Vivian. Just how high could she rise, and what crumbs might fall from that table…

There surely were other elements in play, but I suspected their loyalty stemmed from a selfish desire.

Desire to ride on the coattails of an enormous talent like Vivian, vowing to help her with all their might. That sentiment began to settle in everyone following her.

I felt different.

My feelings for Vivian always felt ambiguous, not quite fitting the mold of loyalty.

While everyone else was diving deeper into their emotions for her, I felt like I was just a step behind, watching this change unfold.

After waiting a while, I noticed some commotion in the distance.

Amidst the growing noise, Vivian soon approached us by the castle walls.

The trio bowed deeply to her, while I merely kept my eyes on the source of the ruckus.

“Here they come.”

Vivian muttered beside me.

And I could see it too.

Count Korod appeared just as he did at the banquet. The only noticeable difference? Instead of arriving in a carriage like the other nobles, he was sitting proudly upon a giant horse.

It conveyed a sense of his character just by enduring that minor discomfort.

Behind him stood unfamiliar faces, lined up like soldiers.

Knights clad in blue cloaks and heavy armor.

One, two… eight of them.

In identical outfits and stances, they followed Count Korod like shadows.

“Whoa.”

Martin couldn’t contain his astonishment and muttered.

Vivian briefly looked around at the reaction, and I did the same.

Unlike Count Korod, our side was made up of soldiers in ragged clothes and leather armor.

The 1st Knight Order had some semblance of style, but they had long since stopped guarding Vivian.

The 1st Knight Order got caught up in Kelsy’s proposal and had been busy hunting monsters.

It was always the 4th Knight Order, the infamous Punishment Unit’s boy soldiers, who protected Vivian.

In them lingered the undeniable traces of commoner habits that were hard to wash away.

For me, I was comfortable with it now, but to a noble’s eye, there wouldn’t be anyone who looked worse than them.

“…That’s why I said we should change our outfits a bit.”

I said to Vivian, comparing her to Count Korod.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath before responding.

“I’ve had a lot to deal with!”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to know how to present yourself to some degree.”

Vivian’s red eyes gazed upon the Eight Knights clothed in blue.

I felt an odd jealousy stirred by the awe and envy that filled her gaze.

Ignoring that feeling, I turned away.

Now wasn’t the time for emotional outbursts.

Vivian was focused on Count Korod.

I was focused on the Eight Knights.

Both of our opponents were approaching.

****

“…Your Grace.”

Count Korod leapt down from his horse and greeted Vivian.

Taller than an average man, with a sturdy yet handsome appearance, broad shoulders, and strong arms.

He seemed more fitting to be called a knight than a count.

He reminded me of my father, who, despite being a lord, consistently trained with a sword.

Of course, we had a long-standing noble tradition of being a family of knights, but the aura emanating from Count Korod triggered a wave of nostalgia.

Behind him stood the eight knights, lined up in formation.

Their posture as they stood shoulder to shoulder radiated an undeniable grandeur, even I could feel it.

Willas began naming them, looking at them one by one like a girl in love.

“Wow… it’s really them! Lord Lyard, Lord Kris, Lord Barriott, Lord Hilden…”

I discreetly stepped on Willas’ foot.

His mind snapped back to reality, and he promptly closed his mouth.

Vivian responded coldly to Count Korod.

“I hope your journey wasn’t uncomfortable.”

“A man should be able to ride for a long time.”

Anyone watching might be astonished at Vivian’s confidence. She stood firm facing their elite soldiers without wavering.

But I knew Vivian was trembling inside.

Such a wandering gaze was telltale.

The Eight Knights must have been known even to someone like her. It was rare to see her this tense.

Trying to push through her anxiety, Vivian took a deep breath and said, “Seeing the Eight Knights in person truly makes one sense their prestige. It’s no wonder they’re famous in the Delum Kingdom.”

“I’m glad to show you after all this time. It’s a proud tradition of our family. By the way…”

Count Korod’s eyes surveyed us.

Ignoring the presence of retainers and maids, it turned into a silent battle of strength between men judging only the fight.

One of the Eight Knights, who Willas had mentioned as Hilden, let out a small snort.

My eyebrows twitched in response.

Count Korod spoke even more plainly.

“I guess the prestige of Rondore has taken quite a hit. Are these guys from the Punishment Unit? Given Vivian’s standing, shouldn’t she be distancing herself from such lowly individuals? What about selecting a talent from one of your loyal families? That Baelor guy… wasn’t he a decent choice?”

Was he trying to pick a fight? Unlike at the banquet, his rudeness was over the top.

But if I stepped in, it would only tarnish Vivian’s dignity.

I chose to wait, trusting her.

…

Vivian did not shy away; she stared intently at Count Korod without averting her gaze, maintaining her silence.

As she remained untroubled, the atmosphere quickly chilled.

Amidst the discomfort, Count Korod stood awkwardly, while the Eight Knights glanced at Vivian one by one.

Finally, Vivian spoke.

“It seems the Korod Family has a penchant for meddling in the affairs of Rondore. It’s not enough that you barge into my land… now you’re worried about my protection too?”

“…”

“Beneath that masculine exterior, you seem to possess a delicate side.”

With that, Vivian smiled for the first time, her corners of her lips ticked upwards.

As she provoked them, nobody responded, standing frozen, except for me who grinned in return.

Vivian glanced up at me, our eyes meeting.

Without needing words, we understood each other in that moment.

My smile drew Count Korod’s attention toward me.

“…Kyle Allen.”

The moment our gazes locked, he extended a large hand in greeting.

I took his hand and shook it.

“I’ve owed a lot to your father. Do you know how he’s been doing?”

No southern noble could be unaware of my father’s condition.

Just like Vivian, I responded to his provocation with equal mockery.

Negotiations don’t just start when you sit at the table.

This back-and-forth was part of the process too.

“Interesting. My father said he never owed you anything. He’s healthy. Don’t worry about him.”

Yet amid my provocations, Count Korod wore a puzzling expression, hard to interpret.

“…Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

…

“By the way, I heard at the banquet about your sense of guilt, protecting the Duke? I can’t quite understand it, but it’s quite remarkable. To repay your father’s debts, even if it means bearing the burden of remorse.”

His tone was that of mockery, his face twisted into a smirk, as if laughing at me.

“May I ask you one thing, Kyle Allen? What do you gain from this?”

…

“Is it the pride of keeping your conscience clean? Do you sleep better at night because you feel less guilty? I appreciate your commitment to protecting the Duke, but laboring under guilt doesn’t make sense to me.”

This was reminiscent of Robert Rondore’s questions.

I scoffed in response.

This wasn’t a jab at Count Korod; rather, it’s aimed at myself.

It was clear to everyone except me—everyone seems to have seen this sooner, and I was just the fool who realized late, causing me to make these choices now.

Count Korod was right.

There’s nothing left.

If anything, perhaps the scars on my back or the wounds etched in my heart remained.

Having grasped this favorable realization a bit late, I started preparing to leave.

For that, I needed to subdue Count Korod before me.

I needed to confirm he’s not a threat to Vivian.

But given the circumstances thus far, it didn’t appear likely.

“Are you going to keep standing there?”

Vivian demanded, trying to hide her annoyance as she confronted Count Korod.

The stare-down between them had continued uninterrupted until Count Korod shifted his gaze at Vivian’s words.

“…Well, from the standpoint of the Delum Kingdom, I have nothing to lose. I’d appreciate it if you keep your efforts up.”

He then followed his retainers and headed into the Castle of Rondore.

-Thud.

After sending off Count Korod, I placed my hand on the shoulder of one of the Eight Knights, who had shadowed him closely.

A man who seemed to be the representative, with wrinkles around his eyes peeking from beneath his helm.

This was likely the one Willas referred to as Lyard.

The one who had been with the Eight Knights the longest.

All eight Knights turned their eyes toward me.

With eight glares aimed my way, I felt just a bit ticklish in my cheeks.

“…Sword.”

I stated simply.

Lyard spoke in a deep voice.

“…We only follow the commands of the Count.”

“Then tell the Count to issue some orders quickly.”

“You bastard!”

-Whack!

At his outburst, I quickly drew out the two-handed sword slung across my back.

“…Are you trying to fight?”

Count Korod’s incredulous voice reached from inside the castle.

I replied.

“Isn’t stepping into a castle without a sword starting a fight?”

“This is… You remind me of Jaide Allen. He was just as hot-headed.”

Count Korod took a deep breath and then looked at Vivian.

“…If we’re talking risks, stepping into the Castle of Rondore without a sword might well be more dangerous than you realize.”

“You’ve been acting strange since earlier. Did you come to this land as the enemy? What kind of danger are you talking about? I’m trying to welcome the Duke here, but you’re skewing the atmosphere. Did I mess something up at the banquet?”

“…”

Count Korod took a moment to find a retort but ended up turning away, nodding his head in resignation.

The Eight Knights promptly offered me their swords after a brief groan.

With a glance, the youngest, Hilden, leaned in to whisper to me.

He looked like he was in his mid to late twenties.

“If you keep acting like this, you’re bound to get hurt, kid.”

I didn’t respond.

Instead, I tapped my two-handed sword, still firmly in hand, showing I understood the situation.

“…I’ll be taking this one with me.”

Count Korod glanced at the sword hanging at his waist.

Vivian looked at me, and I nodded back at her.

One knight wouldn’t be a problem.

“Please, come in.”

Vivian finally spoke.

We stepped inside.

 

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