Reuniting after four long years, Felix clinked glasses with his old friends—Bald Martin, the veteran old knight, and the master craftsman. The night naturally turned into a drinking bout that stretched on and on.
"Oi, Felix, four years gone and you've actually grown into a man," the old bear laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "You drink harder, and you even look more seasoned now."
"Heh. Four years is enough for a boy to become a man," the old knight added with a knowing smile. "You must've walked through more than a few hells in that time."
Between brothers, there was no need for polite words. Drinking was for venting and trading jabs. The knight and the craftsman had little to brag about, stuck in the Kawalerielki City all this time. Their favorite topic was cursing the Chamber of Commerce and the parasites among Kazimierz's nobles. Mostly, though, they listened—listened to Felix's stories of his four years of wandering, his close calls, and his ventures.
Only one piece of news they brought back managed to sober him a little: the Kaliska noble family had abandoned their people, fleeing alone and leaving their subjects to be swallowed by an Originium storm. That kind of filth chilled the room like a draft of winter air.
Eventually, they circled back to business.
"Felix, you came back for the Major, didn't you?" Bald Martin asked. His tone was casual, but it was clear he already knew. Watching the tournament was only part of the reason Felix was here.
Felix nodded, pulling a small booklet from his coat. "Honestly, I didn't expect to see some familiar names here. Never thought Margaret would actually sign up for the Major."
"What's the Nearl family thinking? Zofia actually letting her niece join that cesspit of corruption?"
Felix raised a brow. He already knew how this story would end—his past life had told him that much—but that didn't stop him from voicing his sympathy.
"No faction, no knight order, no sponsor… If this were a knight's tale, Margaret would fight her way to the top, win the championship, and strike a blow against the Chamber of Commerce like a true heroine."
The old knight snorted. "This isn't a knight's tale. To be blunt, I think she's walking straight into danger. The Nearl family may be respected by knights and honored by the honest few, but against the Chamber of Commerce? That respect is worth nothing."
"You're planning to clean up the mess again, aren't you? Same as last time?"
Bald Martin smirked, polishing his glass. "You've got a thing for collecting knights, Felix?"
"Before things reach that point, even I can't predict how it will unfold." Felix clasped his hands calmly. "But yes, I came here for the Major. And more importantly, I want to build ties with the Nearl family."
"The Nearls, huh…" Martin's smile faded, his eyes narrowing as he rubbed his chin. "The Chamber of Commerce is a beast too big to move."
"This one's personal," Felix admitted. "These days, I run a company of my own. The kind of business where you're dancing on the knife's edge. And in a place like this, if someone decides to stick a blade in my back, what then?"
"You want to learn the Nearl family's martial arts," the old knight said after a pause. "In Kazimierz, whether it's nobles or knightly orders, it's tradition to seek out teachers—same as in Eastern countries. But the Nearl family has never taken disciples. Truth be told, only a handful of honest knights even know they still exist. Without proving real value, the Organization will never let them rise into the public eye."
Felix thanked the three old brothers for their counsel. He knew he needed to speak with the Nearl family directly. Whether for the martial training he sought now, or for the long game of the future, it was time to meet the head of House Nearl.
During a lull in their drinking, the tavern door banged open and a young girl in a simple but charming knight's cuirass rushed in. She paid no mind to the half-drunken patrons slumped around the tables. Her face was bright with youthful energy.
"Teacher, my shield broke again!"
"This is already the third time this month!" the old craftsman barked, nearly choking on his ale. "Stop smashing your shield head-on against cars! The car gets wrecked, you have to pay for it; the shield gets wrecked, I still have to fix it. Either way it costs money, you know!"
"Um… it's because I watched my sister's qualifying match," the blonde girl mumbled, shrinking her head into her shoulders. "Her next opponent is an Ironclad Knight who weighs about the same as a car…"
"Alright, alright, don't mind your drunken teacher," the old knight cut in, waving dismissively. "Look who's here."
He steered the golden-haired girl toward the front of the tavern, where Felix sat quietly. She blinked, studied him closely, then hesitated as her eyes caught on his calm golden gaze and the faint shimmer of his haloed wings. Her voice dropped to a small, uncertain whisper.
"…Felix… brother?"
"It's been a while, Maria."
His smile was gentle, warm. When it came to children and younger girls, Felix always carried an extra measure of patience—and a soft spot he rarely showed elsewhere.
Maria had grown into a charming, pretty teenager now, about the age of a middle-schooler in the real world, though she seemed far more mature than most her age. Perhaps it was her noble blood as a member of the Nearl family, or perhaps the years she had spent apprenticing under the old craftsman that had made her grow up faster.
The moment she saw him, Maria ran up and gave Felix a quick hug. She hadn't forgotten who it was that persuaded Aunt Zofia to let her study smithing in the workshop. All the joy she had now—hammering away in the forge after training, living the dream of becoming a craftsman—was possible only because of her "Felix brother."
If not for him, her dream might have never gotten off the ground.
If Felix knew what was running through her head, he would only chuckle and ruffle her hair, telling her not to think so much. Back then, he had simply spoken a word at the right time. He hadn't had the influence to "convince" Zofia of anything. It was just a lucky turn of events.
But to think she still remembered him after all these years… what a coincidence.
"Brother, are you here to watch my sister's match too?" Maria asked, eyes shining.
"That's right."
At present, the Nearl family was still under the shadow of Kirill Nearl, the legendary old knight who had fought in dozens of famed battles and whose name was still enough to deter the Commercial Association. Yet Kirill's body was failing. He could still wield his lance, but the signs of decline were clear to anyone who looked.
That was the only reason Margaret Nearl had been able to fight her way through the qualifiers unmolested. If she had been a knight without such backing, the Organization would have long since tried to recruit her—or, if she refused, sent the Armorless Union to silence her before she ever reached the finals.
"And your sister?" Felix asked.
"She's at Auntie's house, training with her," Maria answered with an innocent smile. She had no thought of hiding it. In her heart, Felix was someone she could trust completely. "Uncle seemed pretty upset, so she went straight to Auntie's instead."
"'Uncle,' hm?" Felix chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle Maria's glossy golden hair. "I'll pay the Nearl estate a visit, then."
"You mean now?" Maria blinked her bright eyes.
Felix didn't refuse. Letting her tug him up from his seat, he turned his head back toward the three old friends at the table, gave them a small nod, and then stepped out of the tavern in Maria's wake.
"…That kid is still as busy as ever."
The old knight sighed, patting his forehead.
"Margaret's situation, we don't need to worry. That one is still around."
Bald Martin, unfazed, continued wiping down the glasses behind the bar. "Felix arriving at the Kawalerielki City at this exact timing is… clever. Sure, he's tangled with the Chamber of Commerce a little, but that was inevitable. He'll make his move."
Leaving the tavern, Felix boarded the bus with Maria. The young girl sat beside him, chattering with a bright smile about amusing little stories from the Kawalerielki City and about herself. Listening, Felix couldn't help but feel younger. It wasn't him brooding over age—though Sankta lifespans were long, he was still only in his twenties. In his past life, that would've meant college years. But this land of blood and iron forced hearts to age and harden too quickly. Talking with such a lively, radiant girl was a rare breath of air.
Though… a "knight collector," huh? Felix had to admit—he really was one. Never mind the uneven quality of knights as individuals. The very titles themselves—carrying weight like loyalty, honor, and nobility—made him fond of the whole order. Even in Kazimierz, where competitive knighthood had long since been devoured by commerce, Felix still held respect for them.
And Margaret? She was the knight among knights.
---
He hadn't seen the beautiful young Nearl he imagined. Nor her uncle Młynar Nearl. The one who greeted him instead was… Old Man Nearl.
Uh… and you are?
The Nearl family estate wasn't in the city center. By Lungmen standards, it was more like midtown. A handful of armed knights stood guard at the gate—sworn retainers of the Nearl house. Honestly, compared to the retinues of Victoria's nobility, the Nearls' force looked thin. Even the security hired by the Chamber of Commerce's local branches outnumbered them.
Yet Old Pegasus was still there. Even seated in a chair, the sharp lines of his weathered face radiated such iron resolve that no hidden foe would dare stir.
"Greetings. First time meeting—my name is Felix Shawn Lanshem."
Maria stepped behind the old man, smiling as Felix offered a polite bow to the elder in the chair.
In this age, many names once shone like stars across the sky. But in Kazimierz, speak of the Nearl family and one name eclipsed all others—Kirill Nearl, the Old Pegasus. Though the tide of commercialization had eroded the old families, and though the Nearl line was undeniably in decline, they were still a name whispered with respect among knight enthusiasts.
"I am Kirill Nearl."
Tall but gaunt, his exposed wrists and ankles carried the marks of time's erosion. Yet his very presence radiated sunlight and righteousness. Those hawk-like eyes made Felix feel as though nothing about him could remain hidden.
He needed no long-winded introduction. He didn't posture or try to put Felix in his place. Simply being who he was commanded respect from anyone who had even brushed against the ideals of knighthood.
Felix wasn't a knight. But trained under the Black Knight as he was, he could still feel the weight pressing off this old man.
Kirill looked frail, as if the oil in his lamp was nearly spent—but Felix knew: with his lance, he could still carve a path of light for the Nearl family.
"An honor to meet you, Sir Kirill."
"…A curious young man."
Kirill studied him. His granddaughter had brought back this Sankta, but there was something unlike any Sankta he'd seen before. Judging purely from his physique, this one didn't resemble a fragile cleric at all—he was more like a Sarkaz mercenary fresh off the battlefield.
The gulf between races was usually impossible to bridge—but the Sankta standing before him was clearly trying. He might not be a knight, but he carried himself like a fighter.
"Maria, go take a rest. Let me have a word with this young man… cough, cough."
Maria pouted, but obeyed. Before slipping out the door, she shot Felix a mischievous wink—a reminder of the promise they'd made earlier. She wanted to show him the results of her years of hammering away in the workshop.
When she was gone, Kirill let out a long sigh.
"Four years ago, you saved the Black Knight from the hands of the Commerce. Felix—after all this time, you return to the Kawalerielki City. Outside of the Kazimierz Major… I can't imagine another reason for your return."
"Sir," Felix asked evenly, "what do you think of Margaret entering the tournament?"
"…If she wishes to become a knight, then as her elders we can only support her." Kirill's voice was calm, though hoarse with age. "No matter the outcome, the fact that she continues to walk the path of chivalry is enough."
His gaze sharpened. "But you—you seem to have another purpose."
"I want to learn the spear and the sword."
"That's why you came to the Nearl household?"
"No. Building ties with the Nearl family is my purpose. And regardless of how this ends, I intend to act as her safeguard—to protect Margaret, and to give her a future where she has the space to grow."
The two held each other's eyes in silence. At last, Kirill asked quietly, "Are you asking me… to entrust Margaret to you?"
"Sir," Felix replied, "whatever place Margaret earns in this tournament, do you truly believe she can survive in the Kawalerielki City afterwards?"
Kirill fell silent.