Heinrich's thoughts scrambled as he met the young lord's gaze filled with conviction. Such gaze only belonged to those with unshakable resolve and determination.
"Forgive my audacity, young lord. But why do you want to be a knight?"
A foolish question, especially when posed to a descendant of a family renowned for their swordsmanship. Yet, foolish as it was, such a question can reveal a person's deepest desire.
For Seven's case, his desire was…
"To be stronger. Is there any other reason than this?"
"What will you do once you're stronger?"
"I…"
Seven froze, unable to respond.
To desire strength was easy, but to know why was another matter. In the end, a resolve is merely a resolve when the goal itself remains uncertain.
Heinrich shook his head.
"You may be mistaken, young lord. A knight is not merely a man who swings a sword well. Does that truly matter so much to you?"
Heinrich had a point, a valid point that mere strength was simply not enough.
Seven's mind raced as he examined his own motives. Aside from gaining strength to survive his written death, he had no idea of what comes after.
The thing is, every knight pursued strength and power for different reasons, but there are common similarities: honor, merit, fame, justice, legacy, and wealth.
But was that truly his reason?
No.
Then, was it because this character he had possessed was birthed into the Hart lineage, destined to follow the path of his ancestors?
No.
Or was it because knights had always seemed so heroic, specifically like the ones he had read about in countless novels?
No!
"Myself."
The knight he had always aspired to be was someone able to decide for themselves what is right and wrong.
"I will use my power according to my own will."
In the first place, he was thrown here against his own will.
Throw that heroic shit out the table. There's no such thing as tales of knights saving everyone, or the grand speeches about honor and virtue. He wasn't here to be admired.
He was here for himself, and only for himself.
Heinrich fell silent.
'I misjudged the young lord. As ordinary as he may appear, the blood of Hart still runs through him. Perhaps I should have expected nothing less.'
Ask any descendant of Hart that same question, and they would give a nearly identical answer:
To wield power according to their own judgment.
Maybe that was the very reason House Hart remained the only one of the Great Four Houses to resist the kingdom, highlighting its independence and sovereignty above all else.
"If that is your wish, young lord."
Heinrich exhaled.
"But you must be tired from your trip to the village. Please head back to the manor first. I will introduce you to the camp the next day."
"I'll start today."
"...!!"
The abrupt response left Heinrich speechless.
But then again, if that is what the young lord wishes, then he had no other option but to oblige as the vice commander of his knight.
Slowly, Heinrich unsheathed the iron sword that hung on his waist and presented it to Seven.
"Take this momentarily, young lord."
Taking the iron sword, Seven felt the weight was too much for his hands. Strange though, it was said that a knight's companion is his sword, thus why did Heinrich hand it over like a mere stick?
"If I may, do not trouble yourself with such concerns. That iron sword is merely one among the stock kept in the camp's storage."
"Oh."
Heinrich seemed to be able to read his thoughts.
"You seem to know the basics of handling a sword, young lord. However, it is not enough. Loosen the grip. You're putting too much pressure on the hilt."
"Like this…?"
His grip was already loosened. This was how he used to swing the sword repeatedly back in his room, but Heinrich still didn't seem convinced.
"I believe it would be more ideal to show you myself. Try to block this."
"Yes."
Heinrich pulled the scabbard by his waist and used it like a sword.
Thwack!
With the simplest strike he could manage, the iron sword escaped from his grasp and clattered on the snow below.
"It… hurts! The fudge was that?"
"That is what happens when your grip is stiff, the forearm is receiving the rebound and impact. Learn how to be malleable."
Picking up the sword back up, Seven frowned. No such thing was in the novels he had read— protagonists just pick up a sword and learn a skill, but that didn't seem applicable in this setting.
Heinrich circled him with slow steps, scrutinizing his physique.
"Hm. Your frame holds good potential, young lord, however your muscles are somewhat underdeveloped for your age. If you would, please return the iron sword. A lighter blade would better suit your current condition."
Seven handed back the sword.
Step, step.
A pair of knights in the middle of patrol arrived soon after, and Heinrich spoke to them briefly.
As he did, the pair of the knights passed Heinrich and dropped on their knees, saying "We greet the young lord!" before walking towards the gate and standing guard.
"Follow me, young lord."
"Aight."
Seven waved at Iria watching him through the window as he followed Heinrich towards the backyard.
There, another pair of knights patrolled the area, mainly back and forth on a paved pathway and the stable consisting of three horses.
Following the pathway, it took almost ten minutes before the camp came into view— even when the path was mostly flat with only occasional gentle slopes that were easy enough to pass.
Step, step.
After another minute of walking, they crossed the entrance attached to the thick wooden walls built from whole logs.
"Please overlook the rather shabby tents and training grounds, young lord. The funds to properly rebuild the camp are limited."
"..."
Seven looked slightly awkward because he was partly responsible for the lack of funds, mainly due to his medication.
More than anything, the stone lanterns emitting blue flames atop every corner of that wall grabbed his attention.
'There were those things in the village and the manor. If I remember, those are called… starlit lanterns.'
From the word itself, these were lanterns fueled by magic drawn from the zi stars of mages, releasing a scent that drove away wild beasts and possibly demons, at least according to the novel.
Humans, on the other hand, could not distinguish the odor coming from the lantern and the ordinary air.
They passed a shabby cabin. Outside it, two knights sat across each other on one bench, a rough pattern carved directly into the surface of the bench between them.
It had three squares carved inside one another, their corners and middles connected by straight grooves. Eighteen round stones rested both on and off the lines: nine black and nine white.
Tak, tak.
"Poor thing. Why would ya place that white stone there, eh?"
The knight with a white hair had a crooked grin spreading across his face, nudging a dark pebble along one of the carved grooves until it settled beside two others.
The other knight with a semi-shaved beard scratched his head.
"What? It looked like a good move to me."
"Look here."
Tak.
The white-haired knight had three stones now aligned neatly in a row. He then flicked one of the younger guard's white stones away from the pattern.
"That makes three."
"Come on…"
Heinrich stood before them.
"Greetings, Vice Commander!"
"Greetings, Vice Commander!"
The two knights immediately stood perfectly straight, like honored soldiers.
"Enough. Gather at the training ground at once."
Heinrich tapped both of their shoulders before moving on, repeating the same instruction to the other knights slacking off.
Within roughly two minutes, every knight in the camp had gathered in one place, including the four cadets. Each knight murmured quietly among themselves, about what could be the reason for the gathering and who was the young man tagging along with the vice commander.
Step, step.
"Knights of Neamh."
Heinrich now walked to stand before the gathered knights.
"I am aware that many of you have questions regarding the young man standing behind me, but he is not an ordinary young man."
Many of the knights envied the young man's handsome appearance, yet compared to their sinewy bodies from years of training, his physique looked frail.
"The one before you is the youngest of House Hart… the very lord we have served and protected in this manor for fifteen years."
Heinrich stepped forward.
"For a long time, you have only heard his name, or caught a distant glimpse of him through the window. However, that will change today! The young lord has finally chosen to walk the path of the sword."
A ripple of surprise then spread among the knights.
"I know some of you share the same thoughts as I do. However, that matter completely belongs to the Archduke. We are merely knights. Our place is to serve and carry out our duty."
Heinrich turned slightly, gesturing toward the young lord as several knights exchanged glances.
"As long as the young lord stands within these grounds, he will train under the same discipline as any knight trainee. I expect each of you to conduct yourselves accordingly."
Heinrich stepped aside and knelt.
The knights below, although had a doubt in their hearts and mind, had no choice but to follow the action of their vice commander.
"We greet the Young Lord!"