Chapter 80…
“…You look much better, don’t you?”
The one assisting Dante that day was Trisiel.
Though she was the captain of a knightly order herself, they insisted someone accompany him, saying it wasn’t proper to let him wander around alone.
But there was another reason behind it.
Xenon Aquites.
She longed to cross swords with him just once, and she knew following Dante, Xenon’s son, would raise her chances of earning such an opportunity.
Dante noticed, but he didn’t refuse.
After all, their growth was something he desired too.
If Acracion knights could learn from the Empire’s Sword, Dante had no reason to stop them.
“Thanks to Eina.”
“Lady Eina?”
Trisiel widened her eyes, puzzled by what he meant. Dante briefly explained about the medicinal herbs.
“Wow, that’s true devotion. Why can’t I ever find a man like that?”
“If you look carefully, you’ll find one.”
No need to look far—there were plenty of decent fellows within Acracion itself.
Ah, except for Zionhak, Cedric, and Cain. Their personalities were… questionable.
Trisiel giggled at Dante’s words before quickly straightening up as servants passed by, bowing politely.
“You don’t have to be that stiff.”
“I’m a knight. I don’t want to shatter people’s ideals.”
Knights were objects of admiration, regardless of gender.
They proved themselves with the sword, swore loyalty to their lords, and even risked their lives.
To ordinary folk, people who acted only on faith and conviction seemed dazzling.
As someone of common birth, Trisiel understood that very well.
That’s why she always carried herself with dignity.
Of course, within Acracion, she was more laid-back than anyone.
She’s a thoughtful one.
Her youth, her remarkable talent, and her considerate nature made her the most beloved youngest among Acracion’s knights.
Dante and Mileon were technically younger, but neither really fit the role of “youngest.”
“So where are we going now?”
Once the surroundings cleared of people, Trisiel reverted to her relaxed stride.
“To meet Sir Sierra.”
“Oh, right! Sierra said she was coming back today!”
Her face lit up with joy.
After all, with only three female knights in Acracion, their bond was naturally strong.
“But Captain, I thought you had another engagement today.”
Perhaps she’d overheard from Mileon yesterday, since she tilted her head in confusion.
“You were supposed to meet some people from an institution.”
That was true.
He had promised to meet people from Littergut.
But more important right now was greeting Patrick and Sierra.
No matter how urgent other matters were, nothing could outweigh welcoming back comrades who had been injured for his sake.
“Sir Patrick and Sir Sierra come first.”
At Dante’s gentle reply, Trisiel simply nodded.
“I hope Sierra’s not hurt. I heard Sir Patrick was gravely injured.”
Dante had worried about that too.
But since Mileon hadn’t mentioned anything alarming, it seemed Sierra was fine.
And truthfully, Sierra wasn’t the sort to get overwhelmed easily.
Even if she had faced that Yuren fellow under Lucia, she would’ve taken his head within five minutes.
“This way.”
As they turned a corner—
“Sierra!”
Up ahead, knights on horseback approached.
One of them was Sierra herself.
“…Hmm.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
Patrick was riding behind her, unable to even sit on a horse alone.
Too injured to ride on his own…
Patrick was a seasoned knight of the Silver Cross Order.
They weren’t beneath Acracion in strength.
Raised directly by Xenon, battle-hardened by his side, they couldn’t possibly be weak.
For such a knight to be reduced to this state…
Dante’s chest went cold.
If fortune had been a little less kind, Patrick might have died.
And Dante, who had sworn never to lose his people again, couldn’t help but feel his heart sink.
“Sierra, are you alright?”
Trisiel ran over excitedly. Dante quickened his pace too.
The horses stopped, and the knights dismounted.
“We have returned from our mission, Captain.”
“…It has been a while.”
Sierra and Patrick saluted Dante with formal respect.
“You’ve done well.”
After praising Sierra, Dante turned to Patrick.
The scent of blood brushed his nose.
That meant heavy bleeding.
“I heard the rough story. How’s your body?”
“Much better. Nothing for you to worry over anymore.”
“…I see.”
But his pale face revealed fatigue.
Though Dante had much to ask, Patrick clearly needed rest.
“Go rest for now. I’ll hear the details later.”
It was enough to see him alive.
Relieved, Dante patted his shoulder.
“I’ll come see you soon.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Sierra, after briefly chatting with Trisiel, helped Patrick back onto his horse.
Behind them stood familiar armored figures—the Silver Cross Knights, their silver cross insignia proudly emblazoned on their chests.
The sole knightly order of House Aquites.
“We greet Lord Dante.”
They bowed with the utmost courtesy.
Even after five years apart, they recognized him instantly—despite his changed appearance and demeanor.
“Thank you for looking after my knights.”
It seemed they had protected and treated Patrick.
“Sir Patrick is our comrade as well. It was only natural.”
They replied casually, then bowed again.
“May we discuss the rest later? We must escort them to the Marquis and make our report.”
“Of course.”
Dante stepped aside.
“Thank you for your understanding.”
Sierra, Patrick, and the Silver Cross Knights—seven in total—passed by him and went inside.
“Sierra seemed fine, but Sir Patrick looked serious.”
Once they were out of earshot, Trisiel whispered.
Patrick had said he was fine, but he clearly wasn’t.
Hidden beneath his clothes, he must have borne many wounds.
For someone of Patrick’s caliber to be unable to hold himself upright—it was nearly fatal.
Who could it have been?
He wasn’t the strongest of the Silver Cross, but he was a seasoned veteran who’d survived countless battles.
For someone to corner him like that…
Lucia? Aaron?
Likely one of them, but Dante couldn’t be sure.
Perhaps it was an unexpected third figure.
“Let’s go.”
First, he’d handle the Littergut matter.
“Yes, sir! I’ll lead the way!”
Trisiel marched boldly ahead, despite not knowing the path.
Dante chuckled and followed, occasionally correcting her direction.
“That way’s wrong.”
“You’ve arrived.”
Waiting in the parlor was a young knight.
His fiery red hair made him look no older than his early thirties.
“I am Rubrik, chief administrator of Littergut.”
“I’m Tain, Lord Rubrik’s assistant.”
An elderly man and a young boy at his side bowed politely.
“Welcome. Please, have a seat.”
Dante seated them naturally, then looked back.
Trisiel blinked at him, wondering what he wanted.
“Tell the head maid to bring refreshments.”
“Oh, tea? Right away!”
Glad for an excuse to escape the boring setting, she quickly left.
Dante smirked and turned back.
Rubrik…
He remembered him from his past life—Rubrik had once come to see whether the rumors of Dante’s sword genius were true.
The assistant too was familiar.
But the red-haired knight was new.
Dante studied him.
A red-haired knight…
He couldn’t place him. No rumors, no encounters in Littergut.
Yet something about him bothered Dante.
Even without hostility, his presence grated.
Is it his appearance?
Strange. Objectively, the knight was handsome. So why this aversion?
“I haven’t heard your introduction.”
Dante voiced his suspicion outright.
“Ah, this is—”
Rubrik began, but Dante raised a hand to stop him.
“I asked you.”
Caught off guard, Rubrik froze.
But the red-haired knight only smiled, amused.
“An honor to meet you. I am Albert Velast, eldest son of House Velast and a knight of Blood Crown.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
The eldest son of Velast?
“And your relation to Lionel Velast?”
“My foolish younger brother.”
There it was—the source of Dante’s unease.
Lionel Velast, captain of Crimson Veil.
Albert was his elder brother—of that repulsive bloodline supremacist family.
