Karl shrugged, looking a bit helpless.
It seemed his leisurely, idyllic life was about to end, but he still wanted to try and resist.
So he blinked twice and asked with a smile, "Since it's a martial arts tournament, there must be many dignitaries there."
"I'm just a commoner. It seems I'm not qualified to participate in the tournament, am I?"
Hearing this, Raymond was speechless for a moment, then simply smiled and clapped his hands.
"Yes, Master Raymond, what are your orders?"
Hans took a few steps towards the three and bowed to them.
"Hans, please bring the quill, parchment, and other things I prepared earlier from the carriage."
"As you command, my lord." Hans nodded, turned, and quickened his pace, opening the door and leaving the house.
"Cough... Karl, I have the right to knight someone, so you need not worry about the eligibility."
Raymond smiled, as if he had guessed Karl would ask about this.
In fact, before Raymond came to visit, he had considered a series of issues regarding the inheritance and other matters.
Therefore, on this trip, he had even brought the official seal of his status, and the knighthood could be conferred on the spot.
Seeing this situation, Karl could only remain silent, completely outmaneuvered.
Raymond had clearly planned ahead, and he feared he had been waiting for Karl to ask about it.
After a while, Raymond, having received the quill and parchment, quickly began writing a series of documents authorizing the conferment of knighthood.
"This paper document doesn't prove your knighthood; it merely grants you the right to be summoned to the city."
"The conferment of knighthood is a complex and grand ceremony requiring many witnesses. It can't all be simplified. I will find a suitable time to make up for the ceremony."
Raymond explained the knight's instructions to Karl, finally sealing the documents with beeswax.
"Done. Tomorrow, the two of you will move to my estate. Karl, you have little time and cannot afford to waste a single moment."
"Furthermore, a suit of plate armor needs to be custom-made by a blacksmith, and you'll need a good warhorse."
"This concerns the honor of the El family; we cannot take it lightly... Cough, cough!"
As he spoke, Raymond couldn't suppress a harsh cough and covered his mouth with a handkerchief.
At the same time, Karl couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted about this father he had never met before.
In this era's context, nobles place great importance on bloodlines, especially regarding whether a child is biological or not.
And today was the first time Raymond had met him, and there had been no procedure to confirm the lineage.
The other party seemed to believe he was his heir, without even the slightest hint of suspicion.
It seemed he didn't know many things about his mother's past with Raymond from years ago.
...
The next day, Karl and the others arrived at the estate in the carriage arranged by Raymond. After a bumpy and swaying journey, they reached the manor.
Karl lifted the curtain and looked up not far away—Raymond's manor was located on a gentle slope, a bit off the main road.
This sight stunned Karl, for the manor wasn't so much a magnificent aristocratic residence as it was a rather somber fortress, worn by time and limited financial resources.
The stone outer walls showed signs of repair, and in some places, ivy was so lush it almost engulfed the narrow windows.
The main structure of the manor remained sturdy, but the details revealed its awkward state.
For example, the relief edges of the family crest on the gate were slightly blurred, and several layers of weeds stubbornly drilled out from the stone cracks on the steps before the door.
Karl increasingly felt that Raymond's willingness to spend his limited funds on having plate armor made for him and purchasing a warhorse showed his sincerity.
With a sound that wasn't hurried but was clearly audible, the wheels running on the gravel path finally stopped at the manor gates.
In the main hall, the air froze for a moment.
Hans's eyes, which had been waiting here for a long time, suddenly sharpened, and the fingers behind his back stopped rubbing together.
"Ahem..."
He cleared his throat slightly, not too loudly, but it served as a command; all the servants behind him instantly straightened up.
The head maid, Marta, was dressed in a faded dark blue rough-spun dress, with a clean but equally worn white apron tied at her waist.
She led four young, timid maids and stood a bit further back behind Hans.
Their task was to keep the hall in order and provide service if necessary.
At this moment, Marta's eyes were full of scrutiny and a slight, barely perceptible disdain.
She only knew that today there were two "not very important guests from afar," and Lord Raymond had ordered that basic etiquette be observed on the spot.
Occasionally, she would brush her hand over the non-existent dust on her skirt, looking a bit impatient.
The head maid, Marta, suppressed the impatience on her face and replaced it with a stereotypical, professional expression, while the four young maids lowered their heads further.
One of the young maids suddenly came to, almost stumbling towards the heavy oak doors, took a deep breath, and pulled them open.
A cold wind filled the hall with the breath of moisture and dust, the flames in the fireplace flickered, and two figures appeared in the doorway against the dappled light outside.
Karl and Jack entered with their luggage.
His eyes held a trace of curiosity, and he quickly and cautiously surveyed the surroundings and the people in the hall.
His bearing was neither humble nor arrogant, more like a stone cast into water, waiting for the reaction of those around him.
As soon as they clearly saw his appearance, three of the maids were stunned, their pretty faces flushing slightly; they lowered their heads and turned away, not daring to look at Karl.
Karl didn't press; his eyes swept across the surroundings, and he silently remarked to himself.
"Indeed, Raymond looks glamorous on the surface, but in reality, he lives a very awkward life."
The main hall was tall but empty; firewood burned in the huge fireplace.
Portraits of ancestors hung on the walls, the paint dull with age, and the edges of the canvases slightly curled.
The only thing that could be called new was a large, worn bearskin rug in the center, covering the cold of the stone floor.
The furniture was made of solid oak and was antique in style.
However, the unusually bright polish showed it was carefully maintained, with no excessive luxurious decor.
A few items, possibly heirloom silver or porcelain, neatly placed on the mantelpiece, were the only surviving symbols of decency in this slightly dilapidated hall.
The air smelled of burning wood, the dampness of old stone, and the faint scent of cheap incense trying to mask the musty odor.
Seeing this scene, Karl couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The plate armor Raymond was going to have made for him and the warhorse he would buy—just these two items alone would probably force him to sell everything he owned.
Otherwise, even if life was a bit tight, it wouldn't be this awkward.
The butler, Hans, whom he had only met yesterday, the remaining maid, and the four young maids were likely all the servants in the entire manor, and the four guards also counted.