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At sunrise, a carriage arrived in the village. A few merchants and mercenaries traveled with it. When the old man and Yaksh stepped outside, the group straightened with attention. The merchant leader approached with a wide smile.
> "It's an honor to be of service to the former Commander of the Royal Knights of the Empire—'The Blade King,' Sir Greyhat Ron Glasswick. Is this boy your apprentice, sir?"
Greyhat laughed.
> "Hoho~ Not yet. He's my grandson—still learning the basics."
> "Ah, forgive me for not recognizing him. What's your name, young Sir Glasswick?"
> "My name is Yaksh Ron Glasswick. I'm twelve years old this year. Nice to meet you."
> "Oh, such manners! A true heir to the strongest swordsman in the Empire."
The merchant was about to say more when Greyhat cleared his throat sharply.
> "Ahem!"
> "R-Right! We should depart immediately!"
He turned to his men.
> "Everyone, load Sir Glasswick's luggage—quickly! We're leaving!"
> "Geez, these idiots," Greyhat muttered. "Yaksh, go take your seat."
> "Yes, Grandpa!"
As the caravan rumbled toward the capital city of Dilheart, a mercenary sitting nearby leaned in.
> "Sir Glasswick, pardon my curiosity, but... everyone believes you never married or had children. So how do you have a grandson all of a sudden?"
Greyhat smiled.
> "He's my grandson. That's all that matters. Blood doesn't define family. Love does."
> "Well said, sir. The bond of the heart is stronger than blood."
> "Hoho~ You've got a slick tongue. A true merchant."
> "Please, sir, you embarrass me."
> "Just don't talk about this in front of Yaksh. He's still a boy. Let him grow up a little first."
> "Of course, sir. Not a word."
Soon, the giant 30-foot walls of Dilheart came into view. The capital city was alive with the bustle of adventurers, knights, vendors, merchants, and travelers.
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