"I'm very sorry, ma'am. I will remember your instructions."
Only after Advisor Keira had walked away did the Guard wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, looking down at the remaining ashes on the ground, almost blown away by the wind.
"Alas, I wonder why Sir Karl specifically instructed me not to reveal his true identity."
"Since the letter has been delivered, I should return and report to Sir Karl…"
"Heh, Advisor Keira's personality is as nasty and arrogant as ever, she really looks down on commoners."
"If commoners didn't farm and pay tithes, how would you nobles live such rich lives?"
Not long after, he returned to the gate and recounted the detailed events to Karl, including Advisor Keira's expression when she read the letter and her attitude towards it.
Especially when he heard the latter part, Advisor Keira's evaluation of his mother, and when she burned his mother's letter.
Karl's eyes were chillingly cold, and the fist beneath his sleeve clenched.
His previous instruction to the Guard to inform Advisor Keira of his identity as the son of an old friend was deliberate.
It was to test whether Advisor Keira still remembered his mother, or if her personality was as nasty as he expected.
Unexpectedly, it was just as he had predicted; Advisor Keira had long forgotten his mother, and even disparaged her.
"Guard, are you sure she did that?" Karl stared into the Guard's eyes, asking again.
"Sir Karl, I, Raphael, swear to Melitele that I speak nothing but the truth! Advisor Keira did indeed treat the letter that way."
The Guard saw Karl's displeased expression, clearly suppressing his anger.
So, he quickly added an explanation; he didn't want to incur the wrath of a noble.
Karl gave the Guard a deep look, then slipped an oren into the Guard's hand during a handshake.
"Very good. As a reward for your honesty, this is for you."
"Dalton, let's go. We need to find the Herald to register and obtain eligibility for the Martial Arts Tournament."
"Yes, Sir Karl."
The Guard was given another oren and was momentarily stunned. He had expected Sir Karl to vent his anger on him.
Instead, he was given another reward and then Sir Karl simply left.
Although he was a noble, his attitude towards others was extraordinarily good, completely devoid of arrogance.
How wonderful it would be if he could work for him, to become his attendant. It would be much more promising than standing Guard at this gate all day.
"Sir Karl, the Herald is in the Trade District market center today. I recommend you wear armor before registering." Raphael reminded him loudly.
He had received two generous rewards in a row, and the matter hadn't been handled perfectly, so he felt a bit guilty now.
Sir Karl was a good person, so he might as well help if he could; it wasn't a big deal anyway.
Hearing Raphael's friendly reminder, Karl and Dalton nodded, then mounted their horses and headed to the inn to prepare.
As the two figures gradually moved further away, a companion next to him nudged his waist with an elbow.
"Raphael, you made quite a bit this time, didn't you? Sir Karl is generous, he rewarded you with two silver coins?"
"Hmm? Sir Karl's movements were so discreet, and you still noticed?"
Raphael smiled, feigning an expression of being caught out.
"That's a no-brainer. The first time he handed you the letter, contact was necessary. Why did he insist on shaking your hand the second time?"
"Hardly any nobles make such intimate and boundary-crossing gestures towards us commoners."
"Alright, alright, stop with the damned nonsense! I'll buy you a drink after work!"
"Hehe, now that's what I call a brother."
There was nothing he could do; since his buddy had exposed him, he just went along with it, which saved him some effort.
After all, a gain of two oren was truly a lot; any ordinary person hearing it would be jealous.
A commoner's annual income was only five or six oren, and he had received nearly four months' income in one go.
If he were to truly state the exact amount rewarded by Sir Karl, he would most likely be isolated and ostracized by his other colleagues.
After all, there was nothing outstanding about him; they all had two arms and two legs, so why should he receive so many rewards?
...After the two returned to the inn, with Dalton's help for a few minutes, Karl finished donning his full plate armor and carried his two-handed sword.
The two rode their horses to the Trade District, arriving at the central square.
The surroundings were bustling with noise, people moving about, and countless commoners watching.
Thanks to being on horseback, with a higher vantage point, both could see clearly.
A table was set up in the square, and the Herald sat behind it, conversing with a knight who had removed his helmet.
More than ten Guards stood nearby, maintaining order and preventing commoners from approaching further.
Before Dalton could even speak a reminder, the onlookers spontaneously parted to create a path for the two to pass.
The Guards standing at the front of the crowd saw the two arrive and first cast their gaze to observe their attire.
Especially Karl, who was at the very front, clad in full plate armor, which appeared dazzling under the sunlight.
Subsequently, without any intention of obstruction, they allowed the two to smoothly enter the inner perimeter.
In this era, commoners could not afford warhorses or plate armor, let alone possess plate armor.
Anyone caught privately possessing plate armor would be immediately executed, so only nobles could wear plate armor here.
"Wow, this knight has two swords? Is he a Witcher?"
"Please, use your brain. How could a half-breed be a noble?"
"One is a two-handed greatsword, and the other is a regular two-handed sword. Half-breeds use steel and silver swords."
"This Sir Knight probably brought two swords for fear of rule restrictions; such situations have often occurred in previous years."
The Herald looked past the knight in front of him and glanced at Karl and Dalton who had arrived.
He nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then averted his gaze and continued to question the knight before him.
"Your name, family, liege, and crest."
"Adris, of the Glen family of Karryas, Mina Glen."
The bearded man then pulled out a crest from his Pregnant to confirm his identity with the Herald.
"Sir Adalric, your identity will require some time to verify."
"We will have it reviewed before the Martial Arts Tournament begins, and once confirmed, we will notify you to participate in the Martial Arts Tournament."
"What?! How long do I have to wait?"
Hearing that further verification was needed, the bearded man crossed his arms, quite displeased.
"Please understand, this is a necessary process to prevent imposters or those with ill reputations from participating in the competition."
"Additionally, your information has been registered. Please move aside and allow other participants to register."
The Herald's face was expressionless, responding calmly to the bearded man's angry words.
The bearded man, however, seemed accustomed to flattery and for a moment couldn't adapt to the Herald's calm attitude, yet he couldn't erupt in anger either.
He could only suppress his rage, snort coldly, and turn to shout at his attendant: "You fools, didn't you hear what he said? What are you standing around for?"
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