Chapter 51
The first person to spot Kaon was Georges Flemang. Smiling shyly, he stiffened the moment his eyes met Kaon’s, but still managed to speak firmly.
“Ah, um, Sir Kaon Ferdinand is….”
Kaon clicked his tongue inwardly. So this was the one—Georges Flemang—who had completed squire training in his own household and now sought to join the Ferdinand Knights. He didn’t know why the boy had shown up a day early, but the story was clear enough.
The man with hair the color of a mature oak tree was someone Kaon had briefly encountered at a banquet. His face was moderately neat and moderately presentable, but Kaon had been left with a distinctly unpleasant first impression.
‘So it was him spreading stories about the banquet.’
Kaon stared intently at Georges. Just like back then, Georges was hovering beside Alessia. That didn’t sit well with Kaon at all.
“Kaon! We’ve got a new member! He’s the second son of Count Flemang!”
“Can’t he speak for himself?”
Kaon replied curtly on purpose, and the mood instantly turned cold. He could feel Maurice glancing at him nervously, but Kaon didn’t care.
“I’m Georges Flemang. It’s good to see you again.”
Clearly nervous, Georges managed to introduce himself without trembling. He didn’t seem particularly bold to begin with, and the tense atmosphere made him even stiffer.
“The others are arriving tomorrow, aren’t they?”
“…Flemang is very close to Ferdinand. I got approval that arriving a day or two early wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I heard you completed your squire training at Flemang. Is there a reason you chose to serve in Ferdinand? Was it your father’s will?”
Unlike at the banquet, Kaon asked stiffly in a quieter tone. Now that Georges had decided to join the Ferdinand Knights, he was simply a subordinate knight.
Sometimes, people joined knight orders with ulterior motives, hoping to curry favor with influential families. While Ferdinand wasn’t the most powerful house in the capital, its vast duchy and long lineage were not to be taken lightly.
That didn’t make it wrong—but those with such motives weren’t suited to knighthood. Especially in Ferdinand’s order, where fighting monsters was part of the duty. You couldn’t survive here with a frivolous mindset.
“No, I…”
After pausing to collect his thoughts, Georges slowly began to speak.
“I came to Ferdinand because I want to become a strong knight. This is my own decision. There’s no knight order in the entire Gaios Kingdom as admirable as Ferdinand’s.”
It was a surprisingly firm answer from someone with such a timid appearance. Knowing how to clearly state his opinion was unexpected—but not unwelcome.
Kaon had just begun to see him in a slightly better light, but then he noticed Alessia’s gaze lingering on Georges. Instantly, his mood plummeted.
Back in his room, Kaon found himself pacing in front of the curtain for no reason. He couldn’t forget the look in Alessia’s eyes when she was watching Georges. It definitely wasn’t a look of indifference. While it didn’t seem filled with longing either… that was something only she would know.
‘Was it the same at the banquet?’
Kaon narrowed his eyes. No, that couldn’t be. If they had spoken privately that night, Georges wouldn’t have approached so shyly.
‘Which means… someone else is involved.’
That didn’t sit well either—but for now, Georges was the bigger irritation. He wasn’t particularly exceptional, so Kaon couldn’t understand why Alessia seemed interested in him.
In terms of family, appearance, or skill, Georges Flemang had nothing on Kaon. If anything, he was far more timid—which wasn’t exactly a desirable trait.
“So you like meek little softies, huh.”
Kaon mumbled to himself near the curtain. Though for something meant to be a mumble, his voice was loud enough to be clearly heard from the other side.
“Didn’t know you were into softies.”
“……”
“Well, everyone’s got their tastes. I guess even softies…”
After a few more comments directed at the curtain, a whoosh sounded as it was yanked open. Alessia stared up at him with a look that said are you seriously doing this right now?
“Pretty sure those words were meant for me.”
“Nope. Just surprised, is all.”
Kaon feigned ignorance, but Alessia simply curled one side of her lip. It was the kind of expression that said I expected nothing better from you, and it made Kaon burn inside.
‘Georges should’ve been the one to see that face.’
It was ridiculous. Alessia was all warm and kind to Georges, whom she barely knew, yet cold and dismissive to Kaon, who had been with her for almost a year now.
Was it because he’d discovered her secret? Even that felt unfair. It wasn’t like he’d uncovered it on purpose—they both got caught. So why was she treating him like this alone?
“You think I’m easy, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“…Excuse me?”
Kaon blinked in disbelief at the blunt response. Alessia let out a sigh and pulled the curtain closed again. Left speechless, Kaon stood there in front of the curtain for a long time.
The next day, the entire knight order gathered in the outdoor training ground to welcome the incoming squires. The formal appointment ceremony would take place at sunset, so the knight commander kept his greeting brief and focused on the essential duties of a knight.
That was the extent of the commander’s involvement. From then on, the training and supervision of squires fell to the other knights. The elderly commander, knowing when to step back, wisely gave space.
“All right, everyone, eyes front!”
Once the commander stepped back, Niels stepped forward and drew attention. He was enormous even among burly knights and exuded enough pressure to make the squires tense up immediately.
“You may not be official knights yet, but I assume you’ve all received proper training from your households. Anyone show up without ever learning how to hold a sword?”
“If you did, speak up now! First one to admit it gets a free pass!”
Maurice shouted playfully, easing the tension a bit.
“As you probably know, the Ferdinand Knights deal with monsters. If you don’t have real skill, you won’t survive. Slack off and you’ll lose your head before you know it.”
But as soon as Niels opened his mouth again, the air froze over. Satisfied with the fearful silence, he let out a boisterous laugh and surveyed the line of squires.
“Now, let’s see what you’ve got. Who wants to go first?”
“I’ll go.”
A fairly large squire—though not quite Niels-sized—stepped forward with raised hand. Impressed by his courage, Niels asked his name and said, “Good. You’ll be easy to remember.”
“You’ll need an opponent, of course. Who should we pick?”
Dozens of hands shot up. Putting squires in their place was always a good time, so everyone wanted a turn.
“Ivon, how about you take him?”
Niels grinned and pointed to Ivon, who stood among the elite knights in the front row. She hadn’t raised her hand, but nodded and stepped forward.
“A woman…?”
The squire muttered with a disappointed look. It was quiet enough not to carry far, but those nearby—including Ivon—heard it clearly.
‘Poor bastard.’
Kaon shook his head. Every year, Niels matched cocky squires with Ivon as punishment. Nine times out of ten, the boy would show visible disappointment—right before being completely destroyed.
Those squires never realized what was coming. Ivon, known among the elite for being merciless, especially when underestimated, would make mincemeat of them.
“Argh!”
As expected, the squire got thoroughly beaten. He tried to show off by letting her take the first move—and got pummeled with a wooden sword instead.
Eventually, he turned to run in desperation, but Ivon was one of the fastest knights in the order. The sharp sound of wood cracking against armor rang out relentlessly.
“Okay, okay! That’s enough!”
Smiling like a kindly uncle, Niels finally stepped in when the squire collapsed to the ground.
“Ivon, if you go that hard, the rest of ’em won’t dare step up. Someone help this guy. All right, who’s next!”
This time, no one volunteered. The gruesome display had killed everyone’s morale. Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Niels picked someone at random.
“You there. Yeah, you with the brown hair.”
As Kaon glanced around to see who the next unfortunate victim was, his face hardened. It was Georges Flemang.
“We’re—”
“I’ll go.”
Kaon shot to his feet.
