Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

"Alright, Galvis..."

Seeing this, Roland walked forward with a sigh and interrupted the Minstrel’s exaggerated performance.

"Hobbit is still young and not very discerning. What if he takes everything you said seriously?"

He glanced at the captivated Half-Elf.

"The last thing I want is for him to run into a Giant one day and, instead of running, pull garlic out of his pocket and throw it..."

"No way..."

Called out by Roland, Galvis awkwardly strummed a string on his lute, then looked worriedly at the Half-Elf before him, whose face was cupped in his hands.

"Little one, everything I just said... it’s all... it’s all..."

"Is it all fake, Mr. Galvis?"

Seeing his one and only audience member’s disappointed expression, the Minstrel immediately jumped up to object.

"Of course not! But you have to understand, all art requires a bit of embellishment, and stories are no exception..."

"Alright, alright..."

Roland waved his hand, cutting off his clumsy explanation, and turned to the Half-Elf who was getting to his feet.

"Hobbit, let’s go. We shouldn’t keep your big brother waiting."

"Okay, Mr. Roland!"

Hobbit gave Galvis a respectful little bow to say goodbye, then skipped ahead to lead the way, occasionally looking back to chat with Roland, who followed behind.

Before long, the two of them arrived near the harbor.

"Uh... Hobbit..."

Watching the enormous ships gradually come into view, Roland raised an eyebrow and spoke slowly.

"Aren’t we... going to get something to eat?"

"We are!"

Seeing Roland’s confused expression, the Half-Elf quickly explained.

"Mr. Roland, fish that’s just been pulled from the sea is the freshest! Trust me, it’s way better than what you get at the taverns in the city! Every time my big brother comes back, he invites me onto his ship to eat freshly caught fish! The different ways to cook it make it..."

Listening to Hobbit’s detailed description, Roland couldn’t help but look forward to the upcoming meal.

After all, since becoming a [Fisherman], he hadn’t eaten fish in a long time because of Galvis’s protests.

Hobbit’s description now made him recall the savory taste of fish, and his mouth began to water.

The two chatted as they walked, and just as they reached the harbor, they ran into a crowd of passengers pouring off a ship.

They had to step to the side of the road to avoid the throng.

As his gaze swept idly over the crowd, Roland suddenly frowned.

Because in a small group not far away, he glimpsed a somewhat familiar face.

After a moment of thought, he recognized him as the young nobleman who had gotten into an argument with the Guards back when they were boarding the ship at Distant Harbor.

Upon recognizing him, Roland immediately recalled the mysterious youth who had been standing beside the nobleman, the one whose body was suffused with dense Negative Energy.

So, he subtly and silently began to move, slowly approaching them.

"Tariel, what in the world is wrong with you?"

After a furious shout, the middle-aged nobleman looked at his son’s gaunt figure and pale face, then lowered his voice, though his tone was still full of resentment.

"How could you get mixed up with the remnants of the Truth Church? Do you have any idea how worried your mother and I were when we heard the news? If Mr. Colin hadn’t shown you mercy, you would’ve spent the rest of your life in a cell!"

"I... I’m sorry, Father, but..."

Recalling his recent experiences, the young nobleman, Tariel, obediently lowered his head and offered a quiet defense.

"Didn’t you tell me to build good relationships with the nobles of the Golden Valley Kingdom? And besides, I think Lyon, he..."

"You dare talk back!"

Bob’s walking stick struck the ground heavily.

Although the surrounding area was bustling with voices, the sharp rap of the stick was perfectly clear to Tariel, making him shudder involuntarily.

"’Lyon’ this, ’Lyon’ that! You didn’t even figure out who he really was before you..."

Realizing his voice was too loud, the middle-aged nobleman quickly lowered it.

"That young man named Lyon is the Lord of Chenxi Territory in the Golden Valley Kingdom. He’s the son of Gavin, the one who colluded with the Truth Church and betrayed King Morne!"

"Wh-what?"

Seeing his son’s shocked expression, the veins on Bob’s neck bulged. He was about to scold him again but then deflated like a popped balloon, just waving his hand helplessly.

"Forget it... We’ll talk about this at home. Even though the Knight Academy has already started its term, I pulled some strings..."

As they spoke, the father and son, surrounded by their attendants, gradually walked away.

And even though the conversation was nearly impossible to make out amidst the noisy crowd, Roland heard every word clearly, thanks to the enhanced senses from his ever-improving Knight’s Breathing Technique.

’Baron Gavin’s son?’

This key piece of information instantly jogged Roland’s memory.

’The one Dalko mentioned... Mason? But... didn’t Dalko say Mason had been sickly since childhood, and wasn’t even expected to live long? But...’

Recalling their previous encounter at Distant Harbor, Roland was one hundred percent certain that the young man’s Life Energy was exceptionally vigorous, nothing like that of a frail and sickly person.

’Could it be the dense Negative Energy inside his body at work?’

Just as Roland was lost in thought, Hobbit’s voice sounded beside him.

"Mr. Roland, let’s keep going. It’s right over there..."

As he spoke, the Half-Elf raised his hand and pointed to a huge ship.

On its towering mast, a flag bearing the image of a seashell snapped in the sea breeze.

’Hobbit’s big brother works for the Black Shell Trading Company? He never mentioned that...’

Roland mused to himself as he followed Hobbit toward the ship.

Their path was unobstructed.

When the Guards saw Hobbit, they didn’t stop them in the slightest, and the two walked straight onto the deck.

Looking around, Roland raised an eyebrow.

This ship was completely different from the one he had taken to the River Domain.

Though it was just as massive, the people coming and going on deck were not elegantly mannered attendants, but well-equipped sailors.

What was even more striking was that several devices resembling the cannons from his past life’s memory were mounted on both sides of the ship.

Judging by their brand-new appearance, they had clearly been installed recently.

"Yo! Hobbit!"

Just as Roland was observing his surroundings, a slightly hoarse voice called out.

He looked toward the voice and saw a figure of similar height to Hobbit, but with an exceptionally sturdy build, walking over.

He threw an arm around Hobbit’s shoulder and then vigorously ruffled the Half-Elf’s hair.

"Big bro!"

Hobbit protested with all his might, but couldn’t stop the other’s actions.

Hearing that form of address, Roland was slightly taken aback.

Judging by appearance alone, he would have thought the person before him was a Dwarf...

"You must be Mr. Roland!"

The stout Half-Elf tucked the poor Hobbit under his arm, extended a broad palm, and laughed heartily.

"A pleasure to meet you! My name is Trevor!"

"Hello, Trevor."

Seeing the other’s friendly attitude, Roland returned a warm smile and shook his hand.

"You have no idea..."

Seeing that Roland wasn’t reserved at all, Trevor immediately released Hobbit from under his arm and complained half-jokingly.

"In the half a month I was out at sea, this little guy sent me more than ten letters, and your name appeared at least a hundred times in them!"

"Big bro!"

Seeing his big brother announce this in public, Hobbit’s face instantly turned bright red.

But Trevor paid him no mind and continued.

"But the first time I heard your name wasn’t from this kid’s letters..."

Before Roland could ask, the cheerful Half-Elf preempted him.

"The mission to take you to the River Domain was originally assigned to me by Mr. Colin, but we ran into a bit of trouble at sea halfway through, and as a result..."

Trevor laughed loudly.

"But it all worked out, since we still got to meet! Maybe it was fate! Anyway..."

After a bit more small talk, Trevor spread his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"To thank you for looking after my little brother, I’ve prepared a magnificent feast. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied!"

"Then thank you very much, Mr. Trevor."

"Just call me Trevor!"

Laughing and talking, Roland followed the stout Half-Elf toward the ship’s cabins.

But as they passed a section of the deck, his gaze was completely captivated by a figure.

’That’s...’

Looking at the slender figure, so clearly different from the surrounding sailors, and the striking silver hair that shimmered in the sunlight, Roland narrowed his eyes.

’Teresa?’