The clouds on the horizon were ablaze with the crimson glow of the setting sun. On this spring evening, an ornately decorated carriage moved slowly along a road in the Kott Province of the southern Empire. This exquisite four-wheeled carriage was crafted from the finest materials. Its dignified, noble black body, along with the intricate carvings and gilded patterns adorning its sides, all proclaimed the exalted status of its owner.
Especially the family crest emblazoned on its side!
A circle of iris flowers entwined the blades of two crossed longswords. Above the sword hilts rested a crown, wreathed in roaring flames...
To a noble with sufficient knowledge of heraldry, this crest signified extraordinary distinction! Within the entire Empire, few families bore the emblem of two crossed swords! Those blades signified that the family had produced at least one figure of Imperial Marshal rank in its history. And the crown above? It symbolized a bloodline connection to the royal family itself!
Fore and aft of the carriage rode ten lightly armored guard knights each, mounted on fine steeds, knightly swords at their hips. Their armor was polished to a brilliant shine, their weapons gleaming. Yet, incongruous with their smart appearance, the knights all wore utterly dejected expressions.
Madd sat beside the driver. He idly chewed on a stalk of grass, glanced at the sky, and sighed deeply. Turning around, he bent down to tap on the carriage window. "Young Master Duvet, should we find a place to rest? It's getting dark."
Inside the carriage, Duvet, interrupted in his reading, looked up. He pulled aside the curtain and gazed out at the sunset on the horizon. "Very well."
Madd acknowledged immediately. Just then, a horse galloped up from ahead, stopping swiftly before the carriage. A young knight in light family armor, slightly breathless, announced loudly, "Steward Madd, there's a small town ahead. It seems the only place we can rest tonight."
Madd, formerly a mere coachman, still wasn't quite accustomed to being addressed as "Steward Madd." Nevertheless, the honest man doffed his cap towards the mounted young knight and nodded. "The Master has spoken. We rest ahead tonight."
Looking at the young knight's face, etched with loyalty and resolve, Madd sighed inwardly. Such a simple young man.
The retinue accompanying Young Master Duvet back to the Rowling family's ancestral lands consisted only of these twenty family guard knights.
For the eldest son of Count Raymond, the Empire's second-in-command at the Military High Command, to undertake such a journey home with only twenty guards, one "steward" (himself), and a driver... the entourage was decidedly shabby.
Even minor nobles in the capital embarking on a simple picnic would bring along retinues of servants and guards.
As for these twenty family knights, they too had been "carefully selected."
Everyone knew Young Master Duvet had completely fallen out of favor within the family. The family's future lay with his younger brother. Though unspoken, it was clear that Young Master Duvet had been stripped of his status as "family heir."
Undoubtedly, attaching oneself to a master being exiled to oversee ancestral properties in the backwoods promised a bleak future. Ambition was universal; everyone longed to remain in the bustling capital. No one willingly chose to follow a seemingly useless master back to a provincial wasteland to fritter away their life.
The knights felt this most keenly. Who wouldn't want to stay in the capital? Staying by the Count's side offered the chance, through martial skill, to earn his favor and rise to prominence! So, when assignments for accompanying Young Master Duvet were being made, everyone avoided the duty. No knight wished to squander their prime years babysitting a pathetic master, overseeing farmers in the boondocks!
Consequently, the twenty knights finally chosen were, without doubt, the unlucky ones. They were either low-skilled and incompetent, naturally solitary and disliked or ostracized by their peers, or – like the young scout – young, inexperienced, simple-minded, and easily persuaded.
Observing the young knight who had just returned from scouting, Madd mentally categorized him: He must be one of the young and simple ones, not yet realizing we've all been banished.
Since leaving the capital, the group's spirits had been low. The only one who maintained an air of calm detachment was Young Master Duvet himself.
Despite his exile, no one had heard the young master utter a single word of complaint. Each day, he sat inside the carriage reading books brought from home, spoke little, and maintained a gentle demeanor towards others.
Shaking off his wandering thoughts, Madd barked an order, signaling everyone to pick up the pace. This former coachman, now steward, had a decent attitude. He was good at comforting himself: Banished or not, I was just a lowly coachman before. Whatever happens now, it's thanks to the young master. Even if it's a "banished" steward, my monthly pay has increased by several gold coins – that's a fact!
Feeling the hard weight of the coin purse inside his coat, Steward Madd's face broke into a smile.
Hmm, I hear Kott Province is in the southern Empire. Southern girls have soft skin and petite figures. Maybe old Madd can find a wife here.
The Giantwood Inn was the only tavern for a hundred li around in the town of Giantwood, home to several hundred families. Named simply "The Giantwood," its business was steady. Cheap alcohol, cheap roasted meat, cheap prostitutes... Even those at the bottom of society needed some life's pleasures, didn't they?
When Duvet's carriage arrived at the tavern door, Duvet looked up, closed his book, and extinguished the carriage lantern.
Stepping out, he glanced up at the tavern's sign – a rusted sheet of iron swinging in the wind. Noise spilled from the doorway; light shone warmly from the windows.
The moment Duvet's party entered the tavern, all eyes turned towards them. After all, the sudden influx of lightly armored knights into the small, crowded space was highly conspicuous.
Duvet entered last. By the time he stepped inside, the knights had efficiently secured a space: a clean table cleared, with Duvet placed safely within their protective circle.
The tavern's patrons sized up Duvet, this young boy on the cusp of manhood.
Duvet was reasonably tall for his age, thanks to his Rowling family martial heritage, though his frame was noticeably slender. His fine formal jacket, trimmed with lace at the collar and cuffs, marked him clearly as nobility. Apart from his strikingly vivid red hair – a hallmark of the Rowling bloodline – his overall impression was one of bookish frailty.
Pale complexion, slender build, quiet and reserved, a book held in his hands.
The guard knights had started unloading baggage. Madd tossed a few gold coins on the counter, prompting the tavern keeper to hastily clear out several clean rooms and arrange for the horses to be stabled and fed.
Meanwhile, Duvet endured the various strange looks directed his way.
"Well now! Looks like a noble lord!"
"Eh? What's a noble lord doing in a place like this?"
"Landlord, you should keep that chair he sat on! Might fetch a good price!"
After a brief hush, the tavern's noise level swelled again as people discussed the newcomers. Clearly, the arrival of a finely dressed noble lord in such a humble, cheap tavern in this backwater was a major event.
A few heavily made-up women, dressed provocatively with bare shoulders and plunging necklines, tried to push through the knights towards Duvet. Old Madd performed his duty well, shooing them away.
Jostled aside, two of the prostitutes shrieked obscenities at Madd. Unfazed by the rural curses, Madd ignored them. Immediately, a drunkard lurched over and grabbed one of the women. "Aha, my little dove! What's so good about that whelp? Let me show you a good time!" He gave her backside a firm squeeze. The woman giggled and promptly settled onto his lap.
Duvet remained expressionless. He sipped his drink calmly. Even amidst the pointing and murmuring, he merely furrowed his brow slightly.
The guard knights nearby also seemed dispirited. Surrounded by the smells of cheap alcohol and cosmetics in this place, they couldn't help but lament their future prospects.
Ah, if only we could have stayed in that dazzling world of the capital!
Just then, BANG! The tavern door was thrust open. Three men and a woman strode in. Their travel-stained appearance and clearly expensive gear marked them as outsiders, much like Duvet's party.
What instantly silenced the tavern, however, was the collective gaze of every man fixing first and foremost on the girl in the group.
She appeared about eighteen or nineteen, with long, lustrous brown hair framing a face of striking, almost aggressive beauty. She wore form-fitting leather armor, clearly top-quality, crafted from some unknown beast's hide that shimmered a deep blue, etched with intricate patterns. Her lower attire was even more arresting: short trousers revealing the entirety of her shapely, snow-white thighs! A leather belt strapped to one thigh held a dagger. A curved sword hung at her hip, and a finely crafted short bow was slung across her back, its quiver filled with small arrows tipped with gleaming silver points!
Duvet instantly recognized the arrows' bright silver sheen as pure silver – a truly extravagant material for projectiles!
The girl's rounded thighs instantly became the focal point for every male gaze in the tavern. As she bent slightly, seemingly without thought, the plunging neckline of her distinctive armor revealed a glimpse of soft, white cleavage, causing two nearby drunkards to gape so wide their mugs clattered to the floor.
Her male companions consisted of: a bull-like brute of a man clad in heavy armor, a massive shield strapped to his back. His fierce countenance, the powerful muscles bulging from his exposed arms, and several visible scars marked him as a warrior of formidable strength. Another was tall and lean, radiating sharp alertness, a longbow slung over his shoulder. The black bowstring, his long, powerful fingers, and the black iron ring on one finger identified him as an archer.
But it was the last man who captured Duvet's attention the most!
He was cloaked in a simple grey robe, his features unremarkable, save for eyes that held a piercing, cold light. His attire was so plain that most in the room seemed to overlook him.
Duvet, however, focused intently on this man. His entire body was concealed beneath the robe, except for a silver leaf-shaped badge pinned to his chest!
The locals might not recognize this insignia, but Duvet did. And so did some of his more worldly Rowling family guards.
This last man in grey... was a Mage! Albeit only a Level 1 Mage, signified by the single silver leaf badge...
But that silver leaf badge was unmistakable – the mark of a genuine Mage certified by the Magus Guild!
After studying the badge for a moment, a distinct thought crystallized in Duvet's mind...