"Understood, Madam. I will remember your instructions."
After Keira left, the guard wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and looked down at the remnants of ash on the ground, nearly scattered by the wind.
"Alas, I don't understand why Sir Karl specifically instructed me not to reveal his true identity to her."
"Now that the letter has been delivered, it's time for me to return and report to Sir Karl..."
"Oh, Advisor Keira's temper is still as bad and arrogant as ever, and she dislikes commoners so much."
"Without commoners farming and paying tithes, how could you powerful people live such extravagant lives?"
Soon, he returned to the gate and told Karl the details, including Keira's behavior and attitude towards the letter.
Especially when he heard Keira's dismissive remarks about his mother and her burning of the letter,
Karl's eyes turned cold and icy, and even his fists under his sleeves were clenched.
Earlier, he had instructed the guard to tell Keira that he was the son of her deceased friend, deliberately revealing it.
This was to test whether Keira remembered his mother or if her character was as bad as he expected.
Unexpectedly, just as he had anticipated, Keira had already forgotten his mother and had even disparaged her.
"Guardsman, are you sure it was her who did this?" Karl stared into the guard's eyes and asked again.
"Sir Karl, I, Raphael, dare to swear by Melitele that I am not lying! This is exactly what Keira did to the letter."
The guard noticed that Karl looked unwell and was obviously suppressing anger in his heart.
Therefore, he quickly explained, not wanting to incur the wrath of a noble.
Karl looked intently at the guard, then slipped another Oren into his hand, shaking his hand.
"Alright, as a reward for your honesty—this is for you."
"Dalton, let's go register with the herald. Qualify for the competition."
"Yes, Lord Karl."
The guard was stuffed with another Oren and was stunned—he had thought Sir Karl would take his anger out on him.
As a result, he not only received another reward but also left.
Although he was a noble, his attitude towards others was simply unusually good, and he didn't feel arrogant at all.
How good it would be to do things for him and become his servant—better than sitting here all day guarding the gate.
"Sir Karl, the herald is in the center of the commercial market today, and I advise you to put on your armor before registering." Raphael reminded loudly.
He had received two generous rewards in a row, but things had gone poorly, and now he felt a bit guilty.
This Sir Karl was a good man, and he could help if he wanted, but it wasn't that important.
Hearing Raphael's friendly reminder, Karl and the others nodded, then mounted their horses and headed to the inn to prepare.
As their figures gradually moved away, a companion beside him nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.
"Raphael, you made a good haul this time, didn't you? Sir Karl was generous and rewarded you with two silver coins?"
"Huh? Sir Karl's movements were so discreet, you noticed all of it?"
Raphael smiled and pretended to be caught out.
"You're not talking nonsense. The first time I passed you the letter, you had to touch it. Why would you shake hands the second time?"
"Anyway, no noble has ever made such a close and transgressive move towards us commoners."
"Alright, alright, stop talking nonsense. I'll treat you to a drink after work!"
"Hey, that's my brother."
It couldn't be helped; since the guy had figured it out like this, he said it offhand, but it saved a lot of words.
After all, the harvest of two Orens was so great that ordinary people would be envious just hearing about it.
A commoner's annual income was only five or six Orens, and he had received almost four months' worth of income at once.
If, according to the facts, the specific amount of Sir Karl's reward was disclosed, he would most likely be isolated and ostracized by his other colleagues.
After all, there was nothing outstanding about him; he was just two arms and two legs, so why could he receive so many rewards?
......
After they returned to the inn, with Dalton's help for a few minutes, Karl finished putting on his plate armor and holding a two-handed sword.
When they arrived at the central square, they rode their horses into the commercial district.
The surrounding crowd was full of people, with countless onlookers.
Thanks to being on horseback, their line of sight was higher, and both could see.
A table was set up in the square, behind which sat a herald, talking to a knight who had removed his helmet.
Next to them stood more than a dozen guards, maintaining order and preventing commoners from getting closer.
Before Dalton could even speak, the spectators spontaneously parted and let the two of them pass.
The guards standing in front of the crowd saw them approaching and first examined their attire.
Especially Karl, who was fully armored at the front, looking dazzling under the sun.
Subsequently, they didn't have the slightest intention of stopping them, allowing them to smoothly enter the inner cordon.
In that era, commoners couldn't afford to buy warhorses and armor, let alone own plate armor.
Anyone who dared to possess plate armor in secret would be executed directly upon capture, so only nobles could wear plate armor here.
"Wow, that knight has two swords? Is he a Witcher?"
"Please, please use your brain. How could a mixed-breed freak be a noble?"
"One is a two-handed heavy sword, the other is an ordinary longsword. Those mixed-breed freaks use a steel sword and a silver sword."
"This knight must be worried about the rules, so he prepared two swords. Similar situations have happened often in past years."
The herald finished with the knight in front of him and glanced at the two, Karl and his companion, who had arrived.
He nodded slightly, then looked away and continued questioning the knight before him.
"Your name, family, liege lord, coat of arms."
"Adric, of the Glenn family from Carriras, Mina Glenn."
The bearded man took out another coat of arms to confirm his identity to the herald.
"Sir Adric, your identity will take some time to verify."
"We will have someone check it before the competition begins and notify you to participate after its correctness is confirmed."
"What?! How much longer do I have to wait?"
Upon learning that the verification still needed to be confirmed, the bearded man crossed his arms, quite displeased.
"Please understand, this is a necessary process to prevent impostors or notorious individuals from participating in the competition."
"Also, your information is registered. Please step aside and allow other participants to register."
The herald was emotionless and responded to the bearded man's angry words.
The bearded man seemed accustomed to compliments from others and couldn't get used to the herald's even demeanor for a while, but attacking was not easy.
He had no choice but to suppress his anger, snort coldly, turn his head, and shout at his servant: "You idiots, didn't you hear what he said? What are you standing around in a daze for?"