Atop the castle wall, in the very spot where Arthur had once stood, Edgar, Duncan, and a few others now stood, watching Arthur and his entourage as they headed into the forest. Their faces were grim, unable to hide their growing discontent.
After a long silence, the old treasurer sighed.
"That arrogant child is going to bankrupt us. We can't afford to feed all these people with such extravagance, as he demands."
Due to the rich diet Arthur's recruits were being fed, the castle soldiers had to go out regularly to hunt magic beasts. The castle cooks were also using ingredients like wheat, salt, honey, and eggs in large quantities, rapidly depleting the castle's stores. If things continued like this, their supplies would run out within two months at most, forcing them to dip into their emergency reserves.
"Damn that fool. What's the point of all this? I can understand training a few young men to satisfy his power-hungry delusions, but he's training the girls too—what utter nonsense."
The captain of the guard growled with irritation. He was a man in his forties, bald-headed, with a rough, hardened face and a small scar on his cheek.
"Calm down. I understand your frustration, but there's little we can do," Edgar sighed, showing his helplessness. He had been observing Arthur for days, trying to discern the reason behind his actions, but he couldn't make sense of anything. On the contrary, he found himself intrigued—curious about the young man's techniques and methods. The cleanliness and pleasant scent of Arthur's recruits made everyone in the castle envy them.
The once-filthy village girls under his banner had turned into beautiful young women who outshone even Edgar's own harem—but he didn't dare approach any of them, afraid of Arthur.
the Baronet Edgar's wife had died a few years ago due to illness, leaving him free to do as he pleased.
"I won't lie. That spoiled brat's methods are fascinating. Not to mention, the soap and hair wash he makes are truly incredible. I didn't know high-ranking nobles had such impressive hygiene techniques."
"Yes, I agree," the others nodded. They had secretly taken a few bars of the soap and tried them, becoming literally addicted. Were it not for their fear of Arthur, they would have confiscated every last bar of soap and bottle of shampoo from the recruits.
Duncan, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke, his voice laced with anger.
"You really don't understand a thing. That person is highly suspicious. I don't think he's the real Arvan."
Gasp!
Everyone atop the wall inhaled sharply in horror. Edgar immediately covered his son's mouth and scolded him.
"Shut up, you fool! What are you saying?"
Duncan pushed his father's hand away and spoke with firm conviction.
"Are you all blind? Didn't the soldiers we sent to wipe out the bandits report that they found no trace of Arvan's entourage? Nothing—no corpses, no signs of battle. Isn't that enough proof that he lied? Arvan's convoy wasn't attacked by bandits because it never came in the first place."
His words sowed doubt in everyone's hearts.
After a brief silence, a man in his forties with light brown-blond hair spoke.
"There's some truth in what you say."
This was Nerian Vox Deepvale, the third mage residing in the Barony of Thornsreach, specializing in earth magic. Like the other mages, he wore deep blue clothing, along with a short black cloak draped over his back. The cloak was a symbol of mages, and its color indicated their rank:
Brown: Rank E
Black: Rank D
light Blue: Rank C
Purple: Rank B
Red: Rank A
As for ranks S and SS, they were nothing more than mysterious legends. The strongest known mages were generally of Rank A.
There were also specialized cloaks for rare mage classes. For example, healers wore white cloaks with green clover petals. The number of petals indicated their rank:
One petal: Rank E
Two petals: Rank D, And so on, up to five petals for Rank A
Mages were rare and valuable compared to Boundless Knights. Every kingdom and faction sought to recruit as many as possible. Many mages had also joined an independent faction known as the Tower of Magic, which provided them with tools and knowledge in exchange for specific conditions and reasonable fees. Other independent mage groups and free-roaming mages were affiliated with the famous Mercenary Guild Union in the eastern part of the continent.
After a moment of silence, Edgar refuted,
"Even if there were no signs of his entourage, that doesn't prove he's an imposter. You all saw the Ravenshade family seal with your own eyes, not to mention his rare black hair, fair skin, and noble clothing—these are all solid evidence. He *is* the real Arvan."
Despite the many suspicious signs casting doubt on Arthur's identity, Edgar didn't want to take the risk.
"Why argue over something so simple? Why not just send a messenger to Duskspire City to bring us reliable news about him?" Nerian suggested suddenly.
Duncan nodded, pleased with the idea.
"Yes, that sounds good. Although the messenger will need several days to return with a definitive answer."
"So, what do you all think? Are we in agreement?"
Duskspire City was the seat of House Ravenshade and was located roughly 300 miles from the Barony of Thornsreach. Reaching it quickly was impossible—it would take at least 7 days for a round trip, assuming the messenger skipped some rest periods.
"I have no objections. But don't you dare try any foolish tricks until we're sure of the truth," Edgar warned sternly.
"Understood."
Having reached an agreement, they prepared a man with sufficient supplies and gear and gave him the fastest, strongest horse available. After briefing him on what needed to be done, they sent him off toward Duskspire.
…
Unaware of the schemes being hatched by the Baronet and the others, Arthur continued deeper into the forest with his group of recruits. Due to their large numbers, their pace was slow. He estimated they wouldn't reach their destination until nightfall. Their path was safe; they hadn't encountered any predators—only a few herbivores and small rodents.
Arthur observed the recruits with sharp eyes, mentally taking notes. He noticed their wilderness handling wasn't particularly good—they had left several gaps in their defense formation.
'Night is about to fall. Continuing forward would be unwise.'
Noticing the long shadows cast by the trees, Arthur raised his hand confidently and said,
"We'll camp here. Form teams and organize the area."
The recruits sprang into action. Some chopped wood, others set up tents, and a few handled the cooking tools and ingredients.
At the center of the camp, a large tent was pitched—spacious enough for several people. It was reserved for Arthur.
Relishing the privileges of a military leader, Arthur entered his wide tent and sat on his comfortable bedding. But he didn't rest—instead, he called for Octavia and Selene. Now that both girls could store mana, it was his duty to guide them daily so they could better understand the nature of mana. To this end, Arthur used several scientific and fantastical examples to simplify the concepts for them.
Thanks to this daily dedicated time, he noticed that neither girl was afraid of him anymore. Even Selene, who had initially despised him for the torture he'd put her through, had begun to respect and revere him.