Lance Charge on the Arkship, but No Mount

Claude and the others exchanged helpless glances, all of them troubled and unsure what to do. Then, as if something had occurred to him, he asked Centaurea,

"How do the checkpoints usually inspect the Infected here? Do they check the Originium density in their blood?"

"Usually not. There are too many people, and they don't have the time. But we can't hide the crystals on her body." Centaurea looked confused. She did not know what Claude was planning.

"If they only look at appearances, I have a way." Claude recalled the runes he had learned, searching for one that could be useful. He soon found what he wanted: Ether-type No. 234, also known as Mild Neglect.

Its effect was to make a small area fail to draw anyone's attention. Even if someone clearly looked at it, they would have no urge to investigate it.

To their minds, that spot would seem normal. There would be nothing wrong with it. Of course, the rune's effects were limited. People with powerful mental strength could accurately detect the abnormality. But Claude did not think he would encounter someone like that at a tiny checkpoint.

"Where are the stones growing on your body?" At Claude's question, the child lifted her gray cloak and obediently pointed to her thigh. Several yellow crystals protruded there, looking as though they had grown straight out of her flesh.

Claude rummaged through the storage compartment in the cab and found a pen. Then he leaned out from between the two seats, reached over, and began drawing a rune over the area of her thigh covered in Originium crystals.

The rune looked extremely simple, formed from two partially overlapping circles. But it absolutely could not be drawn casually with just any pen. While drawing it, the user's magic and mental power had to work in close coordination, infusing the traced lines. Until the magic dispersed, it would remain effective.

The yellow-haired girl stared curiously at Claude as he drew on her leg. The scene was rather suggestive.

When he finished the final stroke, the entire rune began to emit a faint blue glow before fading away. Her thigh now looked smooth and flawless, with no sign that Originium crystals had ever grown there.

Claude turned around and found that only two vehicles remained ahead of them. He sat back down and put away the pen.

By the time it was their turn, two Infected had already been caught and, without exception, driven out. A well-equipped guard outside tapped Claude's window with his knuckles. He then swept his gaze through the vehicle and told the three of them to get out.

Inside the checkpoint were two lanes, one for men and one for women. Claude headed toward the men's lane. Behind the glass door was a simple examination area, where a doctor in a white protective suit stood waiting. Seeing Claude enter, he told him to take off everything but his underwear. After a quick glance and finding no obvious Originium crystals, he let him pass.

Claude was somewhat surprised. He had expected them to make things difficult, perhaps demand a bribe. If they really tested the Originium density in his blood, he should still have been able to bluff his way through with his words and a few tricks. But the guards at this checkpoint seemed somewhat different from the ones before.

When he stepped outside, his two companions had also finished their inspections. They seemed fine, and no one stopped them as they headed back to their SUV. Even after they drove into the city, Centaurea remained surprised that they had gotten through so easily.

She immediately became interested in the rune Claude had drawn. She had not expected such a simple Originium Art to have such an outstanding effect.

"Claude, what did that rune you drew mean?" she could not help asking.

"It means concealment and confusion, but it's only the most basic framework. It needs to be combined with other runes to achieve the best effect."

Seeing that she still did not quite understand, he casually added,

"If you're interested, I can teach you when we have time."

Centaurea was visibly surprised. "Can something that powerful really be taught to others so casually?"

"Normally, it wasn't allowed in the past, but things are different now. Besides, you're my subordinate. I believe I have that authority."

In his previous world, all knowledge in the Empire could be studied and used by anyone who had made sufficient contributions. However, teaching things from the military to people outside the military was strictly forbidden. Still, as the esteemed commander of a legion and Grand Duke of Korkos Territory, Claude had that authority.

Centaurea did not ask any more questions. The vehicle traveled along roads that were becoming increasingly familiar to them, and soon they arrived somewhere that had left a deep impression on all of them.

Slowing down, Claude looked around for an empty parking space. After driving forward for a while, he finally found one. He pulled toward it and parked in one smooth motion without the slightest pause.

After locking the car, the two of them walked forward. The yellow-haired girl followed curiously behind them. Before long, they arrived at an unremarkable little bar.

Claude looked around, and an involuntary sense of nostalgia rose within him. He had been gone for nearly two years. He wondered how his friends here were doing.

A New Beginning: Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical Company

A thick, clean rag rubbed over the bar counter. Made of solid wood and coated in clear varnish, it had become glossy and warm from years of use. The little bar had only a row of small windows facing the street. Though there was not much sunlight, it felt warm and comfortable.

Small glass jars beside the counter held snacks to go with drinks. Many retired old knights came here to drink. Whenever they did, they habitually ordered a beer first, then grabbed some snacks. The snacks were free, of course, so they never held back. Every time, the bar's owner, old Martin, would complain that if they kept eating like that, he would need to replace a whole jar every two days and would soon go bankrupt.

Still, despite his complaints, the snacks on the counter were always replenished and never removed.

After wiping down the counter, he picked up the heavy glass beer mugs beside it and polished them one by one. They were not necessarily dirty; he simply liked finding things to do. The record player nearby played light, soothing music, and his mood improved more and more until he could not help humming along.

The wooden door creaked open, the sound rather sharp. Martin frowned, thinking he might have forgotten to oil it.

"Welcome. What would you like?"

As he greeted the customer, old Martin bent down to set the glass in his hand aside. He heard iron boots striking the hardwood floor with crisp steps. The newcomer was wearing armor. That did not surprise him. Knights always came here, as though the place possessed some kind of magic that attracted them.

"One beer, and three servings of beast meat stew."

A clear, familiar voice reached him, followed by the sound of several coins being placed on the counter. Martin looked up and saw a pair of amber eyes smiling at him.

"You brat! This is a bar, yet every time you come here, you just eat. I can't make any money off you at all." Old Martin laughed as well. He grabbed a mug and filled it to the brim with beer, its fine foam nearly spilling over the edge.

"Make that two more servings of beast meat stew. Oh, and bring me a basket of bread first."

Claude glanced back at the yellow-haired girl, then turned back to add to Martin. He held the longsword at his waist to keep it from bumping against the chairs by the counter, then casually chose a seat and sat down.

Looking at the three people seated in front of him, Martin asked Claude in confusion,

"I know your appetite. You can't eat that much. What's going on today?"

"Just go make it. None of that is for me."

Martin looked at the unfamiliar girl in surprise, then headed into the kitchen to prepare the food.

"Tell me what you've been doing these past two years later."

As he walked away, he waved to Claude.

The freshly baked bread had just come out of the oven. Lightly browned and dusted with flour, it was wonderfully soft. Paired with a rich, savory meat stew, one could take a bite of soup and a bite of bread, or dip the bread into the soup. No matter how much there was, it felt like one could keep eating.

Following his old habit, Claude used the final bite of bread to wipe up every last drop of soup from his plate, then stuffed it into his mouth.

Only then did Martin, who had been deep in thought across from him, speak.

"You really did something huge, didn't you? But if you're looking for a pharmaceutical company that can treat the Infected, I do know one."

"There's actually a company here willing to treat the Infected? That's rare. They aren't using Infected for drug experiments or something, are they?"

"No, they wouldn't do that. This company is rather special. Maria told me it's called Rhodes Island, and it has an office here. I heard their slogan is something about helping the Infected. I've never heard of any scandals involving them either, so they should be fine. Just keep an eye out when the time comes."

"Then I'll go take a look later." Claude nodded thoughtfully.

"You probably don't know this yet, but Margaret isn't in the city anymore."

Claude had indeed heard nothing about it, so he looked surprised and asked Martin,

"I haven't heard anything at all. When did this happen? Why did she leave?"

"Not long after you left. She thought things over at home for two days, then suddenly told us she wanted to travel around and train herself properly. The old man of the Nearl Family didn't object either. Oh, Młynar went with her. I think he was worried about letting her go alone."

"Is that so? It really is surprising, but it's a good thing for her. With the strength those two have, they won't run into any danger." Claude felt a faint sense of regret. He had been looking forward to seeing them.

"You two rest here for a while. I'll go check out that company and get a feel for what they're about." Claude turned to his two companions.

Inside an office, Rhodes Island operators dressed in black uniforms with blue accents were leisurely drinking coffee. Though this was Rhodes Island's local office, and Rhodes Island was considered a well-known pharmaceutical company, this branch had only recently been established and had little name recognition. Thus, it was usually quiet.

After dropping four sugar cubes into his black coffee in succession, one of the operators took another sip. Only then did his expression relax, and he could not help complaining to the female medical operator beside him.

"Put more sugar in the coffee. It was so bitter just now I almost threw up."

The female operator rolled her eyes at him.

"The sugar is right on the table. If you want it, add it yourself. You expect everyone to do everything for you. And with that much sugar, the results of your training will be gone in a couple of days. If Instructor Dobermann sees it, she'll scold you to death."

"Don't bring that up, don't bring that up. We finally have some time to relax. Don't make me think about those things."

As they bickered noisily, a knock suddenly sounded. They all turned to look toward the office's glass door. A black-armored knight wearing a helmet stood outside, looking at them. His fingers curled slightly as he knocked twice on the glass with his knuckles.

The group hurriedly tidied up in a fluster, then took their seats at their workstations. Once Claude saw they were ready, he pushed open the door and walked inside.

He went straight to a petite Feline girl wearing a knit cap and the standard uniform. Seeing him approach, she quickly asked,

"Sir, how may I help you?"

"Oh, it's like this. I'd like to purchase Oripathy suppressants in bulk. Is that possible here?" Claude stated his purpose directly.

The Feline girl immediately looked somewhat at a loss. She had not expected the office to receive such a large order in its first month of operation. They did sell infection suppressants, and because of their cost, the medicines were not cheap. Yet the knight before her said he wanted to purchase them in bulk. It was undoubtedly a major order.

"Of course! Please have a seat, sir. I'll contact our superior."

The group immediately became flustered again as they hurried to receive Claude. A male operator with a tuft of feathers by his ear brought him a cup of black coffee, then added two sugar cubes. Only after dropping them in did he realize he had acted too presumptuously.

He became nervous at once. They had been so lax just now. He wondered whether they had left a bad impression on this major customer.

Their worries were unnecessary. Claude had not formed a bad impression of them at all; rather, he viewed them favorably. These energetic young people had given him some understanding of the company's atmosphere. For now, they had indeed piqued his interest.

After taking a sip of the invigorating coffee, he looked out the window at the bustling traffic and waited patiently.

"Young man, what's your name?"

Claude suddenly called out to the lively young man who had poured his coffee.

"Ah, me? Oh, sir, you can call me Kreim." The young man seemed surprised that Claude had called him.

"Hmm. So, Kreim, do you like sweets?"

"Uh, sir, did you hear that just now...?"

"Yes, and also..."

"Mr. Claude, let me tell you, the Rhodes Island cafeteria has amazing food. It can be a bit dangerous sometimes, though. We don't dare go in then. Some newcomers who've just joined Rhodes Island always fall for it. When I first joined the company, I nearly went in too. Luckily, a kind senior stopped me and told me the story."

"Oh? Why would the cafeteria be dangerous? Are there infected creatures inside?"

"Mr. Claude, you're joking. There aren't any infected creatures inside, but the food that day is dangerous. It won't kill you, and it's actually good for your body, but basically no one wants to eat it."

"Does it taste terrible?"

"That's right. The colleague in charge of cooking that day is a very nice person, but when it comes to cooking, she focuses too much on nutrition. As a result, the food she makes is often hard to swallow. We don't have the heart to say anything to her face, since she's such a good person."

"Is that so? That really is difficult to handle." Claude wore an expression of deep sympathy.

It had been mentioned before that in Claude's previous world, excessively frequent wars had made people's diets simple and crude. Their methods of preparing ingredients were crude as well. Claude's mother had been like that when she cooked. Though she was a duchess, she had always liked personally preparing meals for him and his father. When she boiled meat, she would even throw it into the pot with blood still on it, leaving the entire pot filled with bloody foam. Seasonings were also severely lacking, and few people paid much attention to them.

His father, as a Grand Duke, enjoyed food that ranked among the finest in the Empire. Yet to Claude, it could not compare at all to what he had eaten in modern society. Back then, he missed his former food terribly, even something as simple as instant noodles. But he simply could not refuse food made by his mother's own hands.

It was only after he began cooking for his family himself that his father never ate his mother's cooking again.

"Sir, I've gotten in touch with them. Our company happens to be docked nearby right now, and our person in charge would like to speak with you personally."

A gentle female voice pulled Claude from his memories. He looked up and nodded.

"Very well. Thank you, miss."

After Claude stood and headed toward the back of their office, the Feline girl asked her colleague,

"What happened? How did you get along so well with that gentleman in such a short time?"

"Hello, miss. How should I address you?"

Claude looked at the beautiful green-haired figure on the terminal screen. She had neatly trimmed, shoulder-length green hair and wore a dress of the same color. She appeared to be a Feline woman, and her entire presence felt sharp and commanding. There was no trace of makeup on her clean, smooth face, which showed no expression. In short, she was someone who left a deep impression easily.

"Hello, Mr. Claude. You may call me Kal'tsit."

"Very well, Ms. Kal'tsit. That young lady should have already informed you of my purpose. What do you think?"

"I understand your purpose, Mr. Claude, but before that, I must determine how you intend to use this batch of medicine."

"Is that a necessary procedure?"

"Yes. Please understand. This is a sensitive matter, and we must take responsibility for the company."

"I understand, but I can only tell you that I have some Infected friends who urgently need medicine. Beyond that, I cannot reveal more."

"That is enough for us. I will not ask further questions."

Neither of them wasted words on empty courtesies. Like swordsmen in a duel, their exchange consisted only of clean, decisive strikes as they stated their intentions directly.

"Mr. Claude, we have more or less settled these matters. If you have time, you may come to our company headquarters to sign a formal contract."

"Of course. That is the most important thing to me. I am free for the next two days."

"Then I will send you the coordinates of our company's location."

"Very well. I will visit your company tomorrow."

"We welcome your visit."

"Then goodbye, Ms. Kal'tsit."

"Goodbye, Mr. Claude."