Campaign knights had always scorned the knight competitions concocted by city merchants. To them, they were as childish and ridiculous as children playing house, selling their honor as casually as merchandise or toys. They had never considered those gaudily dressed fakes—performing in arenas like clowns according to scripts written by others—to be worthy of being called knights.
They had their own pride, pride written in the blood and corpses of their enemies. It was an honor no one could take from them. The Ursus could not, and those jumping clowns certainly could not either.
This was the fortress of the Silverlance Pegasi, the fortress of the campaign knights.
Though it was a modern mobile fortress, it still had the distinctive structures of a knight order: a council hall built from massive stones. The commander of the Silverlance Pegasi would discuss strategy, decisions, and other affairs here with his officers and generals. Although several windows had been built into the ceiling, the lighting remained insufficient, leaving the hall somewhat dim.
Claude entered with his helmet tucked under his arm. Silverlance Pegasus, leader of the Silverlance Pegasi, would be waiting for him here. Considering how unusual his induction had been, Claude had long prepared himself for all kinds of tests. He would also need to carefully plan how to earn the trust of the battle-hardened knights who would serve under his command.
"That guy left without even coming back to take a look. He didn't even say goodbye in person. Who knows when he'll be back."
Yelena picked up a glass of juice, and a layer of icy mist spread from her hand. Only after cooling it to a suitable temperature did she slowly begin to drink. Even after treatment at Rhodes Island had effectively curbed the worsening of her Oripathy,