The Journey

Neia froze for a moment.

Then she realized that what this lord had said was, "I don't eat people."

"This subordinate... understands."

She lowered her head, her fingers instinctively reaching for the hilt of the sword at her waist again.

"Your father, Pavel, was an outstanding ranger."

Higashino Makoto continued.

"You seem to have inherited his perception and talent for archery."

Neia looked up, a flicker of surprise passing through her eyes.

Had Father actually told this lord about such things?

"This subordinate... does have some understanding of archery."

She chose her words carefully.

"But this subordinate has never been able to master Mother's swordsmanship."

"There is no need to force yourself down a path that does not suit you."

Higashino Makoto said.

Neia's fingers tightened around her sword hilt.

"But... the path of a paladin..."

"There is more than one path for a paladin."

Higashino Makoto closed the book in his hands and looked at her seriously.

"The essence of a paladin is protection, not a weapon or a title. Whether you protect others with a sword or a bow makes no difference."

Neia fell silent.

This was something she had never heard before.

In her understanding, paladins were figures clad in heavy armor, wielding sharp swords, and charging into battle.

Her mother was like that, and so were the comrades at her mother's side.

And archers...

Archers were support fighters who stood at a distance. They were assistants, supporting characters—not true paladins who stood on the front lines.

But Lord Higashino said that the essence of a paladin was protection.

"This subordinate... will seriously consider what you have said, my lord."

She finally said, her voice steadier than before.

Higashino Makoto nodded and reopened his book.

The carriage continued onward, its wheels rolling over the road with a rhythmic clatter.

Neia picked up the cup of black tea and carefully took a sip.

The warm liquid slid down her throat, dispelling the lingering chill of the morning.

She secretly glanced at the figure opposite her, who was reading.

Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains and fell over him, turning his black hair almost transparent.

His posture as he read was casual, lacking any deliberately cultivated elegance. Instead, he carried an effortless composure.

He was completely different from the paladins her mother had described.

Her mother had said that true paladins were people who walked along a blade's edge. Every movement carried killing intent, and every breath prepared them for their next battle.

But Lord Higashino...

He looked like an ordinary person.

An ordinary person who had merely happened to pass by and casually saved a country.

Neia took another sip of tea, her fingers lightly stroking the sword hilt.

Before she set out, her father Pavel had held her back and said many things to her.

Most of it had been trivial matters, such as what to watch out for on the road and what to do upon reaching the royal capital.

But there was one sentence she remembered clearly.

"Neia, Lord Higashino is no ordinary person. When you are by his side, listen more, watch more, and speak less. Use your perception to sense him."

Neia closed her eyes and released the perceptive ability she had inherited from her father.

The wind outside the carriage.

The distant voices of farmers talking on the field ridges.

The scent of earth and grass mingling in the air.

And...

The aura emanating from the person across from her, like a thin mist enveloping the entire carriage.

It was as though some immense existence, too vast to be fully perceived, had compressed itself into human form, yet a trace of its "essence" still leaked through the cracks.

Neia opened her eyes, her heartbeat having accelerated at some point.

She looked at Higashino Makoto.

That man was still reading, seemingly completely unaware of her probing.

But Neia was not sure.

She was not sure whether he truly had not noticed, or was merely pretending not to.

The carriage continued onward, heading toward Hoburns, the royal capital.

The fields lining the road gradually gave way to villages, and the villages gradually became towns.

In the distance, the royal capital's walls were already faintly visible.

Rita set down her teacup and spoke softly.

"Lord Higashino, we should reach the royal capital in about two hours."

"Mm."

Higashino Makoto responded and turned a page.

The royal capital had arrived.

How would that Holy Queen he had never met view him, a paladin who had descended from the heavens?

And how would the knights and nobles who schemed against one another in court treat this suddenly appearing "savior"?

But he knew one thing—

The days ahead would likely not be as peaceful as this journey in the carriage.

He hoped this country would bring him even more entertainment.

Hoburns Royal Castle, Council Chamber.

Sunlight streamed through the towering stained-glass windows, casting brilliant patches of color across the polished marble floor.

Around the long table in the council chamber sat the three most important women in the Holy Kingdom, and a subtle heaviness hung in the air.

Holy Queen Calca Bessarez sat at the head of the table, her long golden hair gleaming softly beneath the sunlight.

She wore a long white formal gown, with an exquisite Holy Kingdom crest brooch pinned at her collar. She looked like a saintess who had stepped out of a painting.

Beautiful, holy, untouchable.

Yet at this moment, the clear blue eyes of this young queen, praised as the "Holy Kingdom's greatest treasure," held a rare trace of anxiety.

"Regarding that paladin who calls himself Higashino Makoto..."

Calca spoke, her voice clear as silver bells.

"What do you two think?"

Seated to her right was Kelart Custodio, the high priestess of the temple.

Her waist-length chestnut hair draped over her shoulders, and her features were refined and delicate. A faint smile lingered at the corners of her lips.

She lifted the teacup before her and gently blew on the steam, but did not drink immediately.

"Hehehe..."

Kelart let out her signature soft laugh. It sounded gentle, yet always made people feel that something was hidden behind it.

"A paladin capable of wiping out an army of tens of thousands of demi-humans with a wave of his hand, a mysterious being who calls himself a 'wanderer.' Your Majesty, what do you think we should make of him?"

That "hehehe" made Calca's eyelid twitch slightly.

She had known Kelart for more than a decade and knew full well that her friend's "hehehe" was never a good sign.

Seated to Calca's left was Remedios Custodio, captain of the paladin order.

Her short chestnut hair was neat and sharp. Her features were identical to her younger sister's, yet she possessed an entirely different temperament.

Sharp, cold, like a sword drawn from its sheath.

She folded her arms across her chest, her brow tightly furrowed. A nearly fanatical flame flickered in her eyes.

"I don't care where he came from."

Remedios's voice was low and resolute, carrying an unquestionable authority.

"He saved the Holy Kingdom's people and drove back the demi-human army. On that basis alone, he deserves our respect."