"Alright, alright, I can go by myself."
The captain, leaving the excited Silverlances behind at the bottom of the stairs, departed with a few others amidst their resentful gazes.
A knock was made on the door, and a calm, elderly voice answered.
"Please come in."
Upon opening the door, a room bathed in gold comes into view.
Sunlight streamed into the room through the open window, turning the pristine white bedding a golden hue.
The old man sat leaning against the bed, a book beside him.
Cyril Nearl
Gregor carefully observed the old man in front of him.
A slightly thin figure, a kind face, and blonde hair streaked with white.
There doesn't seem to be anything special about it...
Cyril seemed somewhat surprised to see such a large number of visitors.
After nodding to everyone, he finally smiled at Russell.
"Long time no see. Looks like you haven't been too busy with work lately?"
Russell froze on the spot the moment the door opened, and only came to his senses at this moment.
"... Of course I'm busy, but work isn't as important as you."
Several younger people couldn't help but shift their gaze back and forth between the two, but neither of them showed any sign of embarrassment.
You're still the same as always.
Cyril smiled, then turned his gaze to Gregor, his eyes lighting up.
"That's quite a sight; it reminds me of an old friend from the battlefield."
"Yes, your old friend who's keeping you in bed right now."
Russell walked over and helped Cyril up with a disgruntled expression, but Cyril's gaze remained fixed on him.
"Haha, I know you, the new friend little Maria mentioned. May I call you Gregor?"
"Of course, whatever makes you happy."
Gregor tilted his head slightly, and Maria quietly stuck out her tongue.
"Haha, no need for honorifics, I'm not some nobleman."
"Where did you learn these words from...?"
Mlynar's brow twitched, somewhat puzzled by her father's words. Cyril smiled and gestured with the book beside him.
"That's strange, it's from a recent novel I read."
"Novel..."
Mlynar looked at the book cover and his lips twitched.
If he remembered correctly, it was a popular romance novel that had been featured in Wine Report.
The two sisters shuddered as their gaze shifted slightly.
Maria looked to Russell for help, Russell chuckled and teased:
"Strictly speaking, we can all be considered 'noble lords'."
Cyril was delighted with the lively scene before him and chatted with everyone.
Captain Silverlance waited excitedly, just as it was about to be his turn.
"Alright, let's get treatment first. Talking isn't tiring, but supporting you is."
The captain cast a resentful glance at Russell, who simply ignored it.
She doesn't know these knights yet?
Once they start talking, they're bound to go on to tell stories of the battlefield, and who knows how long they'll end up talking.
"Hmm... treatment?"
Cyril gradually calmed down.
"Let me make this clear first, I don't want my body to be cut open."
"No need for all that trouble, just drink the medicine."
Gregor handed over the medicine.
"This is for treatment..."
Glug glug--
The words came to an abrupt halt, Cyril naturally took the drink and downed it in one gulp.
Aren't you going to listen to the end...?
"Haha, since Russell was willing to bring you along, it means he trusts you, so I trust you in return."
Cyril's face quickly flushed red.
"Besides, you're little Maria's friend; she won't play with bad kids."
"Grandfather!"
Maria couldn't help but shout out, not out of shyness, but out of surprise.
Cyril's complexion was rosy, and wisps of heat emanated from his skin; even his thin body seemed slightly swollen.
"Hmm! Getting into it!"
Cyril's eyes lit up, and he sat up straight and stretched his arms, startling everyone.
"Don't do anything reckless! There's no such thing as recovering so quickly!"
Russell pressed the old man back down, leaving the latter somewhat bewildered.
"But I really feel better, I can even Grand Knight Territory for 10 laps."
"Once the professionals have checked and confirmed it, you can run 100 laps without any problem!"
Russell waved to the medical staff on both sides, and everyone rushed forward, applying various instruments to Cyril.
During the inspection, Mlynar raised his hand to invite everyone to follow him to the living room.
Saria stayed in the room to record data, as did Russell, who also chased away Silverlance, who wanted to stay as well.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Gregor."
Perhaps because Cyril's condition had improved, Mlynar seemed more cheerful, and her tone was much softer.
Gregor nodded, readily accepting the sentiment.
Everyone took their seats in the living room, Zofia volunteered to make some black tea.
Captain Silverlance was pulled aside by his companions to inquire about the situation, and for a moment, Gregor and his nephew Nearl looked at each other in bewilderment.
Mlynar tried to start a conversation, but the conversational skills she had practiced in the workplace were hitting roadblocks at every turn.
"I've seen your performance on the field, that power... it must have come from a lot of hard work."
"Born that way."
"I see... With such power, and still willing to dedicate yourself to the medical field, that potion must be your masterpiece."
"Found it."
"Cough cough!"
Mlynar's smile returned to its original shape, and Gregor secretly tapped his "head."
Zofia, who was eavesdropping from a distance, couldn't help but facepalm. In an attempt to salvage this disastrous social situation, she cast a wicked glance at Maria, who was trying to suppress her laughter.
"Maria, do you know what's going on with that book?"
Maria's smile vanished.
Faced with the gazes of the two elders, Maria jumped to her feet and hurriedly waved her hands.
"Um... I... am..."
Seeing her sister's round eyes and the steam rising from her head, Margaret knew she couldn't just sit and wait for her fate.
"Mr. Gregor."
"Um?"
Gregor turned his head and met the girl's earnest gaze.
"Would you mind sparring with me?"
"Unbelievable... all of His Excellency Cyril's medical records indicate that he is a healthy old man!"
The medical staff stared at the recorded data in disbelief.
Just a few minutes ago, many of the above data points were approaching the crisis line...
Russell felt relieved, Saria tactfully left, followed by the medical staff.
It seems... you have a lot to say to me.
Cyril's smile gradually faded, but it still held a slight curve.
"Take your time, there's still plenty of time."
"I..."
Russell opened his mouth, wanting to speak several times but then closed it again.
Want to complain about why they dumped this mess on you in the first place?
He wanted to question why she hadn't come with him to protect Kazimierz.
They wanted to express their exhaustion from dealing with the Business Federation.
In the end, none of the words were spoken.
She recalled Cyril's smiling face and lowered her eyes.
He is already a father and a grandfather.
Cyril has done enough.
He had fought for this country for half his life, Snitz's departure nearly made the old man fall seriously ill.
He should rest.
Russell composed himself and prepared to put on a polite smile.
She's been Grand Knight Commander for so many years, she doesn't mind holding on a little longer.
I still have to explain to the knights later... I clearly said I would seek advice from Cyril.
"I..."
"It must have been tough."
The words caught in his throat, Russell stared blankly at Cyril in front of him.
"Being the leader of this country... must be tiring."
Russell twitched the corner of his mouth, intending to stubbornly insist on his point.
But under that peaceful gaze, the dam of emotions finally crumbled.
"Worn out..."
"Um."
"I've thought about quitting many times, and just handing it over to someone else like you did."
You won't do that.
"Yeah... you old bastard, you've got me completely scheming against you!"
Russell's tone suddenly turned unfriendly. After learning that Cyril was alright, she grabbed his collar and started pulling and shaking him.
She complained about the exhaustion from her work and the fatigue of dealing with the Business Federation.
From stale tea to national affairs, Russell constantly recounted the unpleasant aspects of life.
Cyril listened quietly, his gaze remaining calm.
Sometime later, Russell's voice faded away.
She lay face down on the bed, her face buried in the blankets.
Compared to the imposing Grand Knight Commander she appeared to be, she seemed like a sleepy little girl at this moment.
"You did a really good job..."
Russell's body trembled, and his voice was somewhat muffled under the covers.
"If it were you, you would definitely do better."
Why do you think so?
"Because you are Cyril..."
Russell said matter-of-factly:
"If it's you, it's definitely possible."
"Is that what they told you...?"
Russell abruptly raised his head, and Cyril's usually calm gaze became more serious.
"In my opinion, no one was more suitable to be a leader than you at that time."
"And what about you? Everyone thinks it should be you!"
Russell was somewhat unconvinced, Cyril said seriously:
"It's different. I am a knight, a charging knight."
"My mindset is destined not to guide Kazimierz for long."
"Do you see my body? That's the price I paid for my charge."
"If Kazimierz advances under my leadership, my former body will be Kazimierz's end."
Russell fell silent and whispered.
"But it's not much better now."
In her view, the Kazimierz region under her leadership wasn't much better.
On the surface, it appears glamorous and successful, but in reality, it has been corrupted by the capital of the Business Federation.
Russell couldn't help but recall Gregor's question and raised the same question again.
Cyril frowned as he listened to the dilemma this Mobile City faced.
What's your choice?
Russell stated that he would run over the village and then provide financial compensation to the villagers.
"That's my answer, what's yours?"
Cyril's answer was:
"Brake."
Russell lowered his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
"As expected... you were right."
Why deny your own choice?
Cyril helped Russell up, his expression serious. Russell asked in return:
"Then why did you choose this?"
"Because, according to you, the reason the city trampled the wheat fields was due to an error by the people who calculated the route."
"This is your mistake; the villagers have no responsibility to pay for it."
At this point, Cyril became even more serious.
"This is why I am not suitable to be the leader of Kazimierz."
"My charge will only focus on what's ahead, not on the bigger picture."
"But you can, you can choose a more [correct] direction for Kazimierz."
"So..." Russell's voice was a little hoarse.
"You never think that the choices I made betrayed chivalry? That they were... wrong?"
"As long as you don't intentionally push someone into the abyss for your own selfish desires... then you don't need to judge yourself by the pure standards of chivalry."
Cyril reached out and gently touched Russell's clenched fist.
"We chose different battlefields, Russell."
"I define my 'guardianship' with spear and shield. You define yours with law, balance, and foresight."
"We are all on this Daichi, fulfilling our oath to Kazimierz in our own ways."
"A vow...?"
As he listened to Cyril's words, Russell straightened his back and suddenly laughed.
"Cyril!"
"Um?"
Cyril was puzzled by Russell's raised voice, who suddenly became serious.
What is the family motto of the Nearl Family?
Cyril was taken aback for a moment, then responded with a smile.
"Fear No Darkness."
Clang--!
The sudden metallic clanging sound brought the atmosphere back to normal, and the two exchanged a glance before heading to the window.
Below, Margaret was relentlessly attacking Gregor, but the latter blocked her attacks one by one with his shield.
"Shield?"
Russell was somewhat puzzled. So the Black Iron Knight's weapon was actually a shield?
"It's so good to be young..."
Cyril didn't think too much about it, watching the sparring match below with great interest.
Upon hearing this, Russell looked somewhat distressed.
Yes, we're all getting old.
"Haha, that's not necessarily true."
"It's too late to praise me now; I won't let you rest."
Russell bluntly announced Cyril's future work arrangements, and Cyril did not refuse, but only asked one question.
"Sword or shield, which would you choose?"
"Sword..."
After a moment's thought, Russell gave his answer.
"Hmph... So you're still young."
Cyril smiled and walked toward the door, while Russell was still pondering the deeper meaning of his words, the former's interpretation drifting in on the wind.
"Only belligerent young knights choose the longsword..."
Russell stood there, stunned, until Cyril's footsteps faded into the distance, then laughed and scolded.
"You old fox, if I had a spear, I would definitely choose the spear!"