“There were a total of three injured in this incident. All of them were knights dispatched to Zilbang, and among them, Brug—the commanding officer—sustained the most serious wounds while shielding the others. He’s now recovering after receiving treatment, and thanks to quick action, the prognosis suggests no lasting aftereffects.”

“That’s a relief.”

“A total of seventeen monsters appeared. All were dealt with, dismembered, and sampled. According to the reports from the processing team, the byproducts yielded the most claws and teeth, and they’ve been measured at hardness level 5 for standard magical tool materials. Looks like they’ll fetch a decent price.”

“That’s good news as well.”

Yuder stood silently behind Kishiar, who had finally returned, listening as the retainers delivered their reports. Though the retainers appeared composed while speaking, they clearly looked moved to see their lord again after such a long time.

‘But... why do I feel like I’m attracting more attention than before?’

It wasn’t just a hunch. The glances directed his way were far too frequent to ignore. From the knights guarding the meeting room to the passing servants, even the lower-ranked retainers whose names Yuder knew but had never spoken to—all of them stole glances at his face, then quickly turned away, blushing awkwardly whenever their eyes met his.

‘...Must be because of that battle.’

If the stares had been tinged with discomfort or disdain, it would’ve been easier to understand. But the atmosphere among the observers was far from hostile.

Yuder shot a brief glance at Nathan Zuckerman, standing calmly at his side with his hands clasped behind his back. He was getting similar attention, though not nearly as much.

Just then, Nathan spoke in a soft whisper, without turning his head.

“Is there something bothering you, sir?”

Yuder hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly.

“Not bothering, exactly. I was just thinking... there seem to be quite a few people looking my way.”

“It’s because of the rumors from the recent battle. Everyone’s curious. With me, they’re used to asking directly—but with you, they wouldn’t dare.”

In other words, the reason Nathan wasn’t drawing as many stares was simply because people had already satisfied their curiosity with him.

“I only fired a few arrows from atop the tower. What’s there to be curious about?”

At that, Nathan Zuckerman finally looked at Yuder. A faint, almost imperceptible smile—clear enough that it wasn’t a trick of the eye—formed on his lips.

“Firing a few arrows from a tower... That’s exactly why they’re curious.”

“......”

“You achieved total victory with just that. And very few people actually saw it with their own eyes. If you listen to the rumors spreading outside the fortress right now, they’re saying Lord Aile is on par with Archmage Luma.”

“...What?”

“There’s talk that we should stop calling you the hero of the West and South. That instead, you should be called the Guardian of Peleta, the divine archer who strikes the enemies of the sun. They say you shot down dozens of dragon-like monsters with a single arrow from an old bow, and that you granted me invincible strength. It’s no wonder all the neighboring lords are scrambling to send people to verify the story.”

It was so absurd Yuder couldn’t even respond.

He had seen exaggerated rumors take root back in the South—but this was a whole new level. He furrowed his brow and sighed.

“...I’ll be leaving soon, so it’s not a major concern, but if the Northern branch members are also getting swept up in similar exaggerations, maybe we should try to correct the narrative for the sake of their future.”

“Well, I’m not sure they’d want that correction.”

What the hell does that mean?

Meeting Yuder’s skeptical gaze, the knight answered in the same tone he used when reporting to his lord—calm and straightforward.

“It was actually the Northern branch members who started—and are most enthusiastically spreading—the name Divine Archer Who Strikes the Enemy of the Sun. I heard they even hung up a bow and arrow at the entrance of the branch this morning. Probably as a symbol to commemorate that day’s battle.”

“......”

It was true that Yuder had suggested a new attack method in hopes that the Northern branch members could eventually defend Peleta on their own, even after he and Kishiar left. The North was harsher than other regions, after all.

But he hadn’t expected it to turn into this.

While Yuder was still speechless from the absurdity of it, the reports concluded. Kishiar leaned back leisurely in his chair, casting his gaze slowly across the retainers gathered.

“You’ve all worked hard. Though my absence was brief, I know it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy for me, either. So I’m endlessly grateful to see you all here again, unshaken.”

“......”

“However, I won’t make the comforting promise that there will be no more hardship ahead.”

Instead of a standard reassuring remark, Kishiar said the exact opposite. As the startled retainers blinked, he continued to speak with a smile.

“Unexpected events like this could happen again at any time. We might face even greater, more drawn-out challenges. The road I walk is bound to draw trouble and unpredictable danger that will try to stop us.”

His voice carried calm certainty.

“When that happens, I ask only one thing.”

Kishiar met the eyes of each retainer one by one.

“—Remember what kind of place we’ve built here in Peleta.”

“......”

“That’s all I have to say. You may go.”

The retainers offered their farewells and withdrew with thoughtful expressions. Yuder silently watched the man seated before him.

He made others feel what trust was without ever needing to say the word.

The image of Kishiar’s back—gathering countless pieces to move forward and pushing everyone ahead—reminded Yuder of a great tree standing tall on a mountaintop.

A tree that had endured bitter pain, survived the winter, and grown another ring in its trunk.

A tree that offered shade to all the flowers and grass beneath its branches, while never once avoiding the storm that battered it from above.

And in that moment, Yuder suddenly wanted to wrap his arms around that tree.

Just as the thought passed through his mind, Kishiar suddenly turned his head.

“You two were having such a delightful chat back there during the reports. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to keep from jumping in?”

Before Yuder could respond to his playful smile, Nathan Zuckerman beat him to it.

“If I report something to Lord Aile, it’s the same as reporting to you, Your Grace. Consider it a time-saving measure.”

“So you weren’t being considerate of me missing out—just saving time, huh? Your tongue’s gotten sharp, Nathan. But if you’re already talking, why didn’t you mention that you’ve been given the new title Swordmaster of the Northern Wind?”

Swordmaster of the Northern Wind.

That was even more over-the-top than Divine Archer Who Strikes the Enemy of the Sun. Yuder whipped his head toward Nathan, only to find the man looking off into the distance without meeting his gaze—clearly trying to avoid discussing it.

“That title suits Nathan perfectly, don’t you think?”

Kishiar winked at Yuder. He nodded in agreement right away.

“Yes. It fits Sir Zuckerman quite well.”

“Even Yuder thinks so.”

“...I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Hahaha.”

Kishiar laughed heartily. There was something endearingly boyish ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) about that playful expression. Nathan sighed deeply, then saluted and spoke up.

“The Emperor’s extended restriction order takes effect the day after tomorrow. I’ve prepared all key documents for Your Grace to review by tomorrow. If there are additional instructions, please let me know.”

“It’s already come to that, has it? Understood. I will.”

Yuder mentally counted the days. It was hard to believe the month-long leave, which had felt so long at first, was already over.

‘And now he wants me to do absolutely nothing for another two weeks...’

What exactly is Emperor Keillusa thinking? As Yuder fell briefly into thought, he noticed—somewhat late—that Nathan Zuckerman still hadn’t left.

The loyal knight looked between Kishiar and his honored guest, then lowered his head and spoke quietly.

“Forgive me if I overstep, but I believe most of us—including myself—feel the Emperor’s order was a necessary one.”

“...Hm?”

“Everyone knows you haven’t truly rested since the moment you arrived on this leave. So perhaps, this time... you might consider actually resting as originally intended.”