Refinement

Watching Cadiz sitting quietly beside Count Polia in the distance, Arthur withdrew his gaze, a hint of doubt rising in his mind.

"Did Count Polia deliberately keep the news under wraps, or was there some other reason?"

He looked toward Polia in the distance and wondered.

Of the two possibilities, Arthur leaned more toward the latter.

The reason was simple.

As the commander of the personal guard, Knight Flar had fought for Count Polia for many years. He was unquestionably one of the count's own.

In terms of status, Knight Flar was distantly related to Count Polia by blood, and throughout the entire domain, his standing was second only to that of Arcadia, commander of the Black Knight Order.

His status and relationship with the count were more than sufficient. By all reason, Count Polia had no need to keep this matter from him, much less conceal it so thoroughly.

At that thought, Arthur's gaze shifted, gradually settling on Arcadia, seated opposite Count Polia.

Up ahead, Arcadia wore a well-fitted suit, his golden hair cascading over his shoulders. He looked handsome and cheerful, and it was hard to say how many noble girls he had captivated at the gathering.

As if sensing Arthur's gaze, he lowered his wineglass and turned to look across the room.

Their sharp gazes collided in midair, seeming to spark.

Arthur looked back at Arcadia, who was watching him from afar, and wore a warm, humble smile.

He raised the wineglass on the table and toasted him from afar, then lowered his head and stopped looking in that direction, appearing quiet and unassuming.

The banquet grew wild and carried on late into the night.

One by one, the drunken nobles and warriors were carried off by servants to rest. Once seven or eight out of every ten guests had left, only the last group remained to see out the banquet.

Arcadia and Count Polia were both just as drunk as the others, apparently having had a great deal to drink. They, too, each retired to rest.

Nearby, as the two men at the center of the gathering left, the knights who had been sitting off to the side rose to their feet. They split into two distinct groups, each surrounding one of the men as they departed.

"How are things?"

After walking a long way, they reached the area outside the castle. Arcadia turned to the knight beside him and asked.

His expression was calm, and his posture straight. Though his clothes were somewhat disheveled and he smelled of alcohol, neither could conceal his heroic bearing. He didn't look drunk at all.

Perhaps that was because he hadn't been drunk in the first place. His earlier drunken stupor had been nothing but an act.

"Things are still under control," a knight beside him replied. "Count Polia has seven knights under his command. One was killed on the front lines, and we turned two against him. That leaves four, each of whom commands a certain number of troops."

"And the hardest one to deal with among them is that old Flar."

"You're forgetting one. Don't forget the newly promoted knight named Arthur. That still makes five," someone else interjected.

"How can you compare them?" The first man sneered. "He's only been a knight for two or three months. He probably hasn't even finished adjusting yet. I could take care of him with one hand."

"Don't underestimate that knight. He may not have been promoted long, but he's certainly not weak. He might even be close to matching Flar."

Standing in the middle, Arcadia shook his head.

"How is that possible?!"

The knights accompanying Arcadia cried out in unison, disbelief flashing in their eyes.

"It's true. My instincts are never wrong. That boy puts a tremendous amount of pressure on me. It's unbelievable."

Arcadia spoke slowly, then a cold smile crept across his face. "Heh. If I remember correctly, he won't turn fourteen for another few months."

"A thirteen-year-old knight. That half-elf bloodline really is useful. With talent like that, even I can hardly bring myself to kill him."

His expression gradually turned cold. Killing intent showed plainly on his handsome, heroic face.

"Well..." A knight beside him hesitated. "Since you value his talent, why not send someone to sound him out and see if we can turn him?"

"It won't work." Arcadia's expression didn't change; he simply replied coldly, "Have you forgotten that the boy is kin to that old Polia? Why would he help a bunch of outsiders like us attack his own uncle?"

"And have you forgotten?"

He continued, "Not long ago, on the front lines, we joined forces with those Orcs and set the nobles' army up. If I remember correctly, Baron Esilan died there, surrounded by a group of Orc Warriors. He died a horrible death."

"We just got his father killed, and now you're talking to me about turning him?"

At that, Arcadia shook his head and reached a conclusion. "Anyone in the North could be turned, except Flar and Arthur."

On the other side, Arthur was walking alone along a narrow road. There wasn't another person around, and everything was quiet.

It was already the middle of the night. Insects chirped intermittently around him, breaking the silence.

Before long, he reached an open patch of ground—the place where he used to train.

The familiar spot was deserted. After a moment, Arthur walked to the center of the training ground, drew his sword from his waist, and stood thinking quietly.

"The Knight Secret Skill I used before feels crude now that I've reached the Great Knight level. It's fine against ordinary knights, but it probably won't do much against a Great Knight like Arcadia."

Remembering Arcadia and his terrifying physical strength, Arthur stood still and thought in silence.

"Chip, create a task: refine the Knight Secret Skill using the available data!"

A moment later, a vast stream of information appeared in Arthur's mind.

His past insights and experience using the Knight Secret Skill, along with the Knight Secret Skills he had seen others use, all surfaced in his mind. They would serve as reference material for the Chip and as the foundation for refining the technique.

"Task one created successfully. Estimated time remaining: four days and three hours."

The mechanical voice rang out in his mind.

Arthur trained there for a while before finally leaving.

Several days later.

One morning, the Chip's mechanical prompt startled Arthur awake.

"Ding! Simulation complete."

Hearing the familiar mechanical voice in his mind, Arthur slowly opened his eyes and touched his forehead. Only then did he come to his senses.