Pioneer Knight

Gerson personally escorted Roland to the gates of the Fortress of Radiance.

Perhaps the conversation in the study had reached his ears, letting him realize that Jurut seemed to harbor another kind of feeling toward Roland.

Or perhaps, to him, his master's orders had to be carried out without the slightest deviation.

Seeing Old Nob waiting beside the carriage, Roland finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Young Master Roland, remember: no matter what happens, you must learn humility and keep reverence in your heart." Looking at Roland as he prepared to leave, Gerson once again wore that warm, springlike smile.

Roland nodded lightly, then endured the pain in his chest and walked resolutely toward the carriage.

The moment Old Nob saw Roland, the tension on his face gave way to immense relief. He hurried forward to support Roland's body, which was on the verge of giving out.

Seeing the blood dripping from Roland's chest and his disheveled appearance, Old Nob was furious. Yet, as humble as a serf, he did not dare voice any grievance against the Solomon Family and could only tighten his grip on Roland's shoulder.

With Old Nob's support, Roland climbed into the carriage with some difficulty.

"Grandpa Nob, let's go."

"Alright, alright, let's go."

As soon as he returned to the carriage, Roland ordered Nuwa to examine his injuries.

Fearing that the powerful people of this world might discover the secret of the Chip in his mind, Roland had disabled its automatic scanning alerts before entering the Fortress of Radiance.

After all, he knew too little about this world and did not dare let down his guard in the slightest.

"Nuwa, scan my current physical condition."

"Beep! Beginning scan."

"Scan complete. Master, your third, fifth, and sixth left ribs are fractured. Severe soft tissue damage has occurred. Internal blood vessels and muscles are damaged. Your left lung has been compressed and ruptured."

That damned woman was ruthless. Roland cursed viciously in his heart as he looked at the Chip's report.

But as the pain in his chest grew worse, Roland reluctantly opened the case where he had stored the recovery potions. From the two remaining bottles, he took out the green potion and drank it in one gulp.

As the potion entered his body, a tingling sensation spread through him, easing much of Roland's pain.

However, compared to spells, the potion's effects were clearly much slower and could not immediately heal Roland's injuries.

"Nuwa, record all bodily reactions after using the Level 3 Healing Potion."

"Received. Beginning record."

"Wood Element Magic has entered the body. The wound in the left lung is slowly healing. At the current rate, full recovery is expected in five hours."

"The soft tissue beneath the ribs has begun repairing. Full recovery is expected in thirty minutes."

"Damaged internal blood vessels and muscles have begun repairing. Full recovery is expected in two hours."

"The third, fifth, and sixth left ribs have accelerated recovery under stimulation from the wood-element energy. At the current rate, recovery is expected within seven days."

Roland nodded in satisfaction at the Chip's report. The Level 3 Healing Potion was quite effective.

Unfortunately, there was only one bottle. Based on the experience in the previous owner's memories, its effects would probably last only half an hour.

Once the medicinal effect ended, Roland would have to recover from his injuries slowly on his own.

With his injuries somewhat under control, Roland felt the jolting carriage travel farther and farther away. He could not help pulling open the curtain and looking at the Fortress of Radiance, crouched among the mountains in the night.

He had spent less than an hour there, from entering to leaving.

Yet he had nearly died there. No matter what attitude Jurut held toward him,

Alinur truly intended to kill him.

And Gerson also bore him deep malice. That alone was enough for Roland to feel no goodwill whatsoever toward the Solomon Family, known as Terra's Iron Wall.

So, whether for the promise he had made to the previous owner or for the humiliation he had suffered today, if Roland ever got the chance, he would make that family pay a terrible price.

Yet after making that vow, Roland could not help feeling lost. He had arrived in this world less than three days ago.

He was still largely unfamiliar with this world, and he was only a Level 4 Mage. How could he possibly make a marquis family with a true fief within a kingdom pay the price?

Unable to think of a solution no matter how hard he pondered, Roland scratched his blond hair and said expectantly, "Nuwa, from now on, change your name to the Transmigrator Growth System."

"Your task now is to issue me a mission, and give me a reward once I complete it."

After a long silence, the Chip spoke.

"Mission: Treat your injuries promptly."

"Reward: A healthy body."

Unable to think of any better solution, Roland could only follow the previous owner's plan and head toward Highland City.

In truth, he had no choice but to go. What he said in the room earlier had not been meant to fool the previous owner's cheap father.

A large part of why Jurut had so easily abandoned his arrangements for Roland was precisely Roland's status as a Pioneer Knight.

Among the humans of Saint Nor Continent, Pioneer Knights had always belonged to a sacred and inviolable domain. In ancient times, it was those Pioneer Knights who feared no hardship who made indelible contributions to the development of human civilization. It was also because of them that humanity now possessed territory no less vast than that of the other races.

But while Pioneer Knights enjoyed honor, they also bore enormous responsibilities. Once someone became a Pioneer Knight, there was no retreat and no turning back. They either became a glorious noble or died upon that honored path of exploration. There was no third path. Anyone who retreated would not only lose all former glory, but also face the united scorn of the entire Human Alliance, leaving them with virtually nowhere to stand.

Moreover, every Pioneer Knight had to develop land beyond the boundaries controlled by humanity, wresting a place for humans to survive and multiply from the hands of countless other races. The risks were so great that survival was a slim hope, and even descendants of great nobles were among them.

Yet risk and opportunity went hand in hand. On the present-day Saint Nor Continent, from empires down to duchies, every nation was built around nobles. Even the immensely powerful Church of Dawn, which held nearly absolute authority in the Holy Light Empire, had not dared abolish the emperor and completely transform the state into one led by the pope.

This showed the status held by noble power among humanity. However, becoming a noble, especially a noble with a true fief, was almost harder than ascending to heaven.

The first method was hereditary succession, where a noble holding a hereditary title passed that title on to their own heir.

The second was ennoblement through military merit. One earned achievements in war and was granted a noble title by the king. But to become a noble with a true fief through this method required astronomical merit, usually taking the efforts of several generations, or even more than a dozen, for even a slim chance of success.

The third was becoming a Pioneer Knight, a sacred rule established by humanity's ancient sages and firmly recorded in the Human Continent Convention, unchanged for over ten thousand years.

The Solomon Family's current noble status had likewise begun with an ancestor who became a Pioneer Knight, gradually rising step by step to the marquis title they held today.

However, after more than ten thousand years of development, although the contents of the Human Continent Convention had not changed at all, the practical differences between nations had led to varying requirements for Pioneer Knights.

For example, in the Terra Kingdom, not every citizen could become a Pioneer Knight.

First, one had to be a free citizen, and one also had to be at least a beginner-ranked professional. Those two rules alone shut more than ninety-five percent of Terra Kingdom's population out of the ranks of Pioneer Knights.

The conditions for successfully developing land and rising to nobility had also become increasingly strict. One had to occupy at least one hundred square kilometers of land beyond humanity's territory, develop it to maturity, and hold it firmly for three years before becoming an honored baron and declaring successful advancement.

The number of humans within the territory could not be fewer than five thousand, and the territory had to possess a complete and properly functioning judicial, civil administration, and economic system.

There had to be no fewer than ten professionals, as well as a high-ranking professional stationed in the territory year-round.

It was precisely these harsh conditions that meant only a handful of Pioneer Knights in the Terra Kingdom successfully rose to baron each year. Sometimes, not even one succeeded for several years.

Even so, countless people still chose to become Pioneer Knights, resolutely setting foot upon this arduous road of glory.

The previous owner had been one of those countless Pioneer Knights. But from the memories Roland currently possessed, the previous owner had not held much hope of becoming a noble. His fundamental reason for becoming a Pioneer Knight had actually been to escape his family.

His choice made that clear. He had not chosen to develop the northern border of the Terra Kingdom against the Beastkin Empire. Instead, he had traveled thousands of miles to the east of the Terra Kingdom, choosing to pass through Highland City and develop territory in the Sea of Ten Thousand Islands.

But Roland was very grateful for the choice the previous owner had made. It gave him a sufficient excuse to refuse Junot's arrangements.

Though Junot's arrangement might have been the best option for him, Roland, who had inherited the previous owner's memories, did not trust Junot at all. Just as he hated that family, he also hated the man who had allowed his child to fend for himself for eighteen years. No matter how many reasons Junot had, none could serve as an excuse.

Even a development expedition with only a slim hope of survival was ten thousand times better than becoming Garfield's apprentice, with his life in another's hands.