Maria Nearl (5K)

"But bloodline doesn't define everything."

Gerald then calmly replied, "The power involved is self-evident and cannot be denied; otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here."

"But I think, whether I am Pegasus, Nightmare, or even just the ordinary Kuranta, as long as I have the opportunity to fight you, I will still choose to stand before you, Khan."

Upon hearing this, the Nightmare in front of him showed no sign of doubt; he simply stroked the long knife on the table with his hand.

I lost when I was young.

The Khan suddenly spoke, drawing his sword and revealing a strong aura of blood in the firelight. "That was a Pegasus, a Pegasus with golden blood... This is something deliberately spread by someone with ulterior motives, but in reality, blood can't be golden, just as my blood can't be black. It only appears to gleam golden under the sunlight."

Gerald naturally understood the meaning of those words, and he said without hesitation, "In other words, he has broken your skills."

"Haha, he can't break through yet; he's just letting the light appear in the darkness."

The Khan laughed twice, placing his finger on his sword. "But if he can keep the sun from setting before me, then that is his skill."

"His sword is very sharp, and although his skill is far inferior to yours now, he can still be considered an expert. He was a very difficult opponent for me when I was young, but that's all."

"We lost because I didn't realize a problem at the time, or rather, most Nightmare don't realize it."

"You guessed right, this bottle of wine is yours." Harlandu Khan untied the bundle behind him, tossed one of the wine sachets into Gerald's hand, and said, "Come, tell me, what is this question I never thought of before?"

Gerald took the bag, looked at it with some confusion, and then said, "I haven't given you my answer yet."

"You'll always answer this question correctly, now or in the future. Even if you get it wrong now, consider it an advance payment from me."

The Khan answered with absolute certainty, the sword in his hand reflecting his weathered face, a testament to all the victories and setbacks he had endured in past wars.

Gerald pondered for a while, considering the Khan's possible past experiences and the question his earlier inquiry raised—he had some guesses in his mind.

"About fear?"

The candlelight flickered for a moment in the wind, but when I turned to look again, I found that nothing had happened.

The Khan poured the last drop of wine from the wine sac into his mouth and sheathed his sword.

He stood up and said to Gerald, "It's a very close guess, but not enough. I look forward to seeing when you come to that conclusion."

"Rest well, young adversary. Together we will journey to the Golden City and sound the drums of war against Lugasalgus."

"And you will witness all of this."

Gerald opened his eyes, and the light of reality streamed into the room through the window. He blinked, and his consciousness returned to this familiar world.

The lingering effects of the dream still echoed in his mind, and the most obvious influence was the heaviness of being drunk—although not as troublesome as real pain, the sluggishness of his brain still made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

He rubbed his temples, slowly got up, and felt the lingering fatigue in his body even after resting.

The battle with Harlandu Khan was more mentally taxing than he had imagined. Even after regaining his senses, he could still recall the firelight in the Nightmare Camp, the pungent taste of the wine, and the heavy oppression brought by the Khan's blade.

But the things that need to be done still need to be done.

The day began as usual: washing up, exercising, stretching, and getting ready to set off for Kazimierz.

As the morning light bathed the village, he casually greeted Carol as he left, then lightly leaped onto the roof of a house in Dripping Water Village.

There, he found Centaurea, where one could gaze into the distance in the morning light, and another "decoration" added to the rooftop.

A young Nightmare, hastily bound to the rooftop by the shifting wind, is fast asleep.

Gerald squinted at the sleeping figure—he had just seen the real Nightmare Khan, and now seeing a Nightmare tied to the roof by the wind, completely defenseless, was such a stark contrast that he didn't know how to react.

In Harlandu Khan's army, there was almost no one whose strength was inferior to that of the Nightmare. Every one of them was a true elite who had stepped onto countless battlefields and had seen the earth covered with blood.

The person in front of me has potential, but he is still uncertain about his own mindset and his direction is unclear. No matter how you look at it, he is still far from being there.

However, he didn't linger on the young Nightmare, but instead turned his gaze to Centaurea, who was standing to the side.

Little Pegasus clearly didn't notice him approaching. By the time she realized what was happening, Gerald was already standing beside her, causing her to shudder and slip, almost falling off the roof.

"Ah, well, is there anything I can do for you? Do you need me to deal with this strange knight? There are some hills around the village; I can throw him there and bury him..."

Gerald ignored the other man's sudden, uncontrollable muttering after seeing his face, and instead said:

"Centaurea".

"Ah, I'm here." She immediately stopped what she was doing, looked at Pegasus properly, and adopted the typical working-class posture. "May I ask what's the matter?"

It'll be over soon anyway.

Whether they are abandoned or killed by the person in front of them, they can relax afterward and won't live in a state of uncertainty and despair, much like a death row inmate.

Under the expectant gaze of the other party, Gerald tried to put on a friendly smile and said directly, "Because you left in a hurry, you probably don't have much money on you, and you left your usual belongings in Kazimierz, which is quite a distance from here."

"So—how about trying to work for me?"

"If possible," Gerald's gaze fell on Nightmare, who was fast asleep beside him, "I need some excellent people to advance my plans. Salaries and holidays are negotiable. Unlike the Armorless Union, they won't ask you to do anything else, nor will they threaten you with death."

Pancake.

The new pancake is still a mystery; I wonder if the seller will be easy to get along with.

The expected despair appeared on Centaurea's face. She simply nodded silently, an unnatural smile playing on her lips, "Ha, ha, of course, you're right. I guess I don't have a choice, do I?"

You have it.

A gust of wind swept through the house, taking out a suitcase and placing it in Centaurea's hands. "Here is two hundred thousand marks. It's not much, but it's enough for you to start a new life."

"Whether you go to Siesta to find a job, or find time to buy equipment and go back to clean up the mess, all I need to do is make sure you leave Kazimierz at the right time. After that, you can do whatever you want."

Gerald then changed the subject. "Or, you could try something more interesting, like--"

Replace those who used to look down on you with those you find more agreeable.

The noise had already filled the entire arena since dawn.

Fans gathered at the entrance, shoulder to shoulder, pushing and shoving each other to get closer to the front row, afraid of missing any detail of this grand event. Whether they were fanatics dressed in their respective Kamen Rider merchandise or newcomers just following the crowd, their eyes were filled with excitement and anticipation.

A new knight means a new story. Every match is a high-stakes gamble—a gamble on honor, a gamble on the future, and a gamble on the passion and dreams of countless people.

Despite recent issues with the capital behind the Knight Competition and concerns about the future of the event, the vast majority remain unmoved. Such upheavals have occurred more than once in history; whenever the old guard crumbles, new companies always fill the void. The story of Knight Competition will not end there; money and fame continue to circulate in this city.

Moreover, the Knights Association remains stable, and the competitive system that symbolizes the highest honor in the Major Tournament has not been shaken.

Now, all eyes are on a new knight, a name that is both familiar and unfamiliar.

Six years later, another "Nearl" stepped onto the arena stage.

"Maria Nearl, you're next!"

The voice of a staff member came from outside the waiting room, urging the young Pegasus, who was resting with his eyes closed, to move his body.

Her face was full of youthful innocence, and judging from her age, she was probably just an adult. Compared to most of the riders who had entered their prime, her skills and abilities might not be up to par. Moreover, her opponent today was not some easy opponent to deal with—after all, one of the advantages of family riders was that they could directly enter the arena and participate in the points races.

Therefore, the young Pegasus simply opened her eyes, silently took the sword from her hand, placed the shield her aunt had prepared for her where she was, and walked towards the arena.

A passing staff member, not wanting to miss anything, glanced into the room and noticed that the contestant's shield had been forgotten. They quickly called out, "Nearl! Nearl! You haven't brought your shield yet—"

However, the young Pegasus ignored the other party's explanation.

She simply held the greatsword in her hand.

Chapter Nine: Maria Nearl (5K)

"What are your thoughts on Knight Competition, Centaurea?"

One working-class woman had no comment on this—before accepting the invitation, she had considered various ways to return to Kazimierz, such as driving through the wilderness or slowly returning with all her supplies.

But she really hadn't expected that the new boss would be so nice. He not only let her rest in Dripping Water Village for a while and not have to start work immediately, but also allowed her to wander around freely, even though there were no entertainment facilities at all.

Such treatment left her somewhat dazed, and she even rubbed her eyes as if wiping away a non-existent tear.

Then she could continue touching him with a clear conscience.

"--Profit comes first."

Of course, the boss's questions still need to be answered.

Centaurea's answer to this question was simple, "The essence of Knight Competition is the exchange of money and power. With control over violent organizations, whether it's the Knights Association or the Commercial Union, they can have a place in Kazimierz without even needing to cooperate with the Arbitration Council."

"But now that they've lost the Armorless Union, they need other ways to fill the void and prevent the Arbitration Council from taking over the security and operation of the Knight Competition."

Gerald nodded, listening quietly to the other person's thoughts. "For example?"

Centaurea pursed her lips, gathered her thoughts, and cautiously continued, "Judging from the reactions of most companies, when they realize that their efforts are ineffective, or when the board of directors needs to check and balance each other, they usually restrain their actions and try to protect themselves in the face of disaster."

"Smaller companies don't have the authority to know about us; they survive simply because they meet market demands. Larger companies, due to mutual checks and balances, haven't lost control of their monopolies. So, from a problem-solving perspective, the only way to reach a consensus is through the board of directors. They'll most likely have their subordinates select a target to test the behavior of their adversaries."

"Right now, it would probably be better to be a super target that everyone would find so dazzling that they'd want to eliminate it, wouldn't it?"

Gerald glanced at Centaurea unexpectedly, a gesture that made her momentarily question her own judgment, until she breathed a sigh of relief after Gerald spoke.

"I need to apologize to you first. I told your contact person some things in your name."

"... Ha." This actually reassured Centaurea a lot. "That's good. Now there will be fewer people who know my identity. Anyway, you can't possibly keep those people here."

"That's true."

Gerald nodded. "But with Darksteel already dead, playing both you and Darksteel at the same time is quite difficult. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Platinum can die anytime, boss." Centaurea blinked, pondering the distance from here to Kazimierz. "I wholeheartedly agree. Anyway, there's no one there who needs me anymore. I think I'm better off being a normal person named Centaurea."

At that very moment, Gerald placed his hand on Pegasus's shoulder, and the meaning in his gaze made her lips tremble uncontrollably.

"I understand, but there's no need for you to intervene now, Platinum level."

Gerald smiled. "Once that Nightmare over there wakes up, let's try to communicate with him first—trust me, that city will one day need Platinum- ranked figure to die, and that day will come soon."

"But not now."

Maria Nearl is exactly twenty years old this year.

She was literate, loved forging, and her favorite place was Uncle Kowal's workshop. The furnace there never went out, the air was filled with the smell of heat and charcoal fire, and with the echo of steel, the sweaty arms hammering the steel would forge the strongest blades, one hammer blow at a time.

She had many paths in life to choose from.

She could become a stable and ordinary craftsman, immersing herself in metal and forging all day, witnessing the process of steel being shaped in high temperatures. Or she could be like the youngest daughter of other knightly families, arranged to have a respectable marriage with the neighboring family, spending her life under complex but stable rules, perhaps occasionally hearing news of her sister at a banquet, gazing at that figure shrouded in glory.

But reality shattered all of that.

One day, not long after her birth, her parents received a secret mission from the Arbitration Council and suddenly left home, disappearing without a trace.

When she was eight years old, her older brother, who had been with her since birth, became someone she could only see four or five times a year because he had gone to the battlefield. They could only spend every day together when he came back on leave.

When she was fourteen, her favorite older sister reached the place she is now in and became the champion.

Then he disappeared from her sight and never returned.

At the age of sixteen, he received news of the death of the person he secretly loved, who was said to have died on the battlefield, sacrificing herself along with her squad.

She stood in the family mansion, watching people enter with expressions of mourning, listening to them recount the battles in a solemn yet distant tone, while she could only stand there, unable to utter a word.

The uncle next door, because his family lacked long riders, was coerced and lured into becoming a racing knight by a certain company.

After several victories achieved through cheating, he used his last connections and resources to set fire to the top of the National Assembly, then safely returned home, where he burned everything to the ground—including the corporate executive he had tricked into coming to his home.

And so, nothing was left, including the past glory he once cherished most.

And just like that, Maria's life was completely ruined.

One by one, loved ones left us; one by one, acquaintances disappeared.

At that moment, it didn't matter whether this feeling stemmed from a lack of love from family or from genuine girlish affection.

For a whole year after that, Maria did not live her life as she usually did, following the most ordinary path.

She arrived at the arena and the artisan's workshop in the dead of night, where she saw the flames burning brightly and the blade in her hand gleaming with an unusual light under the firelight—a light that remained silent in her eyes, unlike the glory that knights spoke of all day long, or the destiny that heroes should have.

[Fear No Darkness]

This family creed echoed in the firelight of the night, deeply reflected in Maria's eyes.

Why is it that they are always the ones facing hardship and darkness? Why are they the ones who suffer and have to face death, while some noble knights can quietly enjoy themselves in the background?

Having lost their Campaign Knight and their means of survival, their family existed in name only.