After jotting down Pres's treatment method on paper, Roland set down his quill pen and rubbed his sore neck.
The nightingale's song echoed in his ears. "Your Highness, do you need me to help you unwind?" "There are still over thirty people to attend to. Let's wait a bit," Roland said with a smile, shaking his head and gently ringing the bell on the table. Completing these tasks sooner would allow him to begin the outreach program in Border Town earlier. Moreover, the prospect of exploring Anna's new abilities filled him with excitement.
A tall Knight escorted the royal guard into the reception hall. At first glance, he was strikingly handsome, rivaling Carter's god-like features. Yet to Roland, this charm was a drawback. He glanced at the list and called out, "Filling Silte?" Unlike others, his name was accompanied by a note. Roland read it aloud: "Chief Knight of the Lion Regiment, Dawn of the Dawn, First Knight of the West... What a long list of titles." "Yes, Your Highness," Filling replied, kneeling on one knee.
"I always assumed commanders like the regiment commander or the First Knight would lead the charge on the battlefield," Roland frowned. "How did you survive?" "I stayed back," he replied calmly. "By controlling the horse's stride to mimic a full sprint, the actual speed barely increased." The blunt answer caught Roland off guard. He had expected excuses to justify his cowardice and desertion. This turned out to be far more complex than he'd imagined.
As expected, Filin continued swiftly: "On the morning of the third day after your pursuit-the very day the Duke met his end-I remained close to him, seeking an opportunity to end his life. Unfortunately, his personal guards were numerous and closely guarded, leaving me no chance to act. Fortunately, your forces eliminated him." At this point, Knight bowed deeply. "Your Highness, I thank you for this. Wherever you need me, please send me." The final words could be interpreted as a pledge of loyalty. Roland paused momentarily before speaking: "Please stand up. Tell me what happened." "Yes," he said, rising. "My wife Irene was originally a civilian working at the Long Song Fortress Theater. We met by chance and fell in love. I wanted to marry her, but my parents opposed the marriage. I had to move out of the estate and rent a room on the farm near the fortress, where the wedding was held. Shortly after our marriage, Irene finally got her first official performance." Knight's voice grew low. "Unbeknownst to me, the Duke watched that play and took a liking to her. Soon after, he broke into the house while I was away on duty and raped Irene." "It took me a long time to learn about this from her. I wanted to confront the Duke, but Irene knelt before me, begging me not to act rashly." I knew full well that if we fought face-to-face, even if I killed him, I couldn't escape the Imperial Guards. Irene... would likely become the target of vengeance for the Duke of Laine's heir. That's why I held back until he went to Border Town. "" Though I couldn't exact revenge myself, Irene can finally sleep soundly without worrying about intruders at night. I've also been relieved of this heavy burden. Please allow me to thank you once more. "" I see. "Roland tapped the table with his quill pen—a signal he and Nightingale had agreed upon. When verifying someone's honesty, they'd tap the table. Soon, he felt Nightingale's fingers pinch his left shoulder blade, confirming the truth... though the pinch was slightly too hard, making Roland smirk." Can you read and write? "" Uh... "Philin froze, seemingly struggling to follow Prince's train of thought." I can. "" Then I'll pronounce the verdict now, "Roland repeated his words."...what's your choice? "" Your Highness, don't you need me to fight for you? Whether in single combat or formation battle, I'll— "" No, I don't, "Roland interrupted." My army has no Nobles, and I won't recruit any. It's a purely civilian force. And you'll never have the chance to take up arms again." "Is that so?" Philin hesitated for a long moment before nodding. "I see. If that's the case, I'll become a teacher." "A wise choice. Teachers get housing and decent pay. I'll have someone bring your wife back. You can settle down here." Roland gestured for Knight to leave.
"Please wait, Your Highness. May I ask a question?" He paused. "Do you mean the same for the other Knights? If they can't become teachers, they'll be forced to work in the mines for twenty years?" "Exactly." "...Your Highness, I have a subordinate named Harlon. He's an experienced old Knight, but he can't read. Can I exchange the Golden Dragon for a pardon from the mines?" "Certainly not," Roland shrugged. "If money could atone for your sins, I'd let you go from the fortress." "But he's nearly fifty. That kind of sunless labor would break him down." "And he's too weak to mine but too strong to attack Border Town?" Besides, my mines aren't black coal pits. We have steam engines to pump out the ore, and our workers get regular holidays. Roland picked up the bell, ready to call the next person in.
"Your Highness!" Philin gritted his teeth and knelt again. "I possess a family heirloom treasure map, over four centuries old. I offer it in exchange for Halon's freedom." "A four-century-old treasure map..." Prince frowned. "Are you certain your ancestors didn't scribble it with charcoal just to entertain their descendants?" "No, it's not charcoal or ink," he shook his head, recalling the blueprint. "I can't describe its creation—its patterns are exquisitely detailed, smooth to the touch, and have remained undegraded in the basement for decades. My father said it's been passed down through generations. The map marks a treasure deep in the Northwest's Lost Forest, but that's a wilderness beyond ordinary reach." Roland tapped the table with his quill pen, while Nightingale continued to pluck the left string.
"Alright, even if you're right, the treasure map should be in the Silt family's basement. You've already renounced your inheritance rights to the estate, so they'd probably hate to see you again." "Exactly," Philin nodded. "But I've memorized every detail of the map. I can sketch out both the patterns and the text." "Then go ahead and draw it," Roland pushed the pen and paper to the table. "If it's true, I'll make an exception for your request." "Your Highness's mercy," he said, walking to the table and beginning to sketch the treasure map.
In fact, Fuxiao Chen Guang Feilin Xilte was not only skilled in combat but also possessed remarkable talent in painting and calligraphy. Soon, a rough topographic map appeared before Roland.
The map depicts the area behind the Desolate Mountains, where a continuous range of peaks, stretching from small to large, occupies the lower right corner of the paper. At the center, an equilateral triangle is drawn, its three acute angles connecting three points: one at the base of the northern slope, another in the Hidden Forest, and a sixth marked by a hexagram—likely the so-called treasure site.
But Roland's attention was entirely drawn to the apex of the triangle, situated in the wilderness, marked by jagged peaks inscribed with the word "Tachila".