Shield of the Rose

Dana stepped forward, her arms tracing wide arcs as her heavy knightly spear whirled and whistled through the air.

This was certainly not the inherited technique of the Lightning House.

Dana knew all too well that given the close relationship between Carvin and her father, Caron had likely explained the strengths and weaknesses of their family’s arts in meticulous detail, perhaps even sparring with Carvin himself to demonstrate them.

Therefore, unless absolutely pushed to the brink, Dana had no intention of using those familiar forms.

What she was executing now was a completely new combat technique that the entire squad had painstakingly designed for her. At its core lay Lina’s “Windgrace Waltz,” seamlessly integrated with the three sisters’ “Hellish Strangle” and Merlin’s “Thorn Defensive Array” to create a balanced form combining offense and defense.

Gripping the middle of the spear shaft, Dana spun the weapon like a localized cyclone, unleashing a barrage of lightning-fast thrusts that crackled like thunder.

Lina had originally named the technique “Hell’s Soul-Chaser Melody,” but in Dana’s hands, it resembled a violent tempest.

Carvin intercepted three strikes in rapid succession, bitterness rising in his mouth.

He had believed he had Dana cornered, assuming Caron’s assessment of his daughter’s strength was infallible. Yet the moment they clashed, he realized Dana had already reached a bottleneck.

Not only had she hit a ceiling in her skill, but both her level of comprehension and the intensity of her Aura had reached their limits. She was only a hair’s breadth away from a final breakthrough.

Though such individuals were technically still classified as ordinary Knights, they did not fear Ace Knights in a true duel.

What terrified him even more was the technique Dana was executing.

He had been confident in defeating her because he knew the Lightning House’s forms inside and out. He had never expected her to suddenly alter her style, and worse still, this new technique seemed perfectly tailored to counter him.

His own style prioritized agility and elegance. His twin curved blades behaved like two weightless drafts of wind, cutting opponents down before they even realized they had been hit. Against the aggressive, frontal assaults of the Lightning House, he only needed to evade the brunt of the attack, slip inside her guard, and overwhelm her with a flurry of rapid strikes.

But now, he was the one pinned down. If he was a gentle draft, Dana was a raging gale. He did not dare slip inside her guard; if he tried, he would be sucked into the vortex rather than bypassing it. A single difference in phrasing, but a world of difference in consequence.

Carvin had to abandon his original plan and try to dismantle this tempestuous onslaught.

Unfortunately, time was not on his side. Their agreement was limited to ten strikes; if those ten strikes passed, he would lose.

By the time Dana unleashed her sixth strike, Carvin could no longer hold back. Crossing his twin curved blades, he thrust them directly into the storm generated by the spear.

He employed a deflection technique to redirect her force, adding a hidden twisting counter-force.

The harsh screech of grinding metal erupted alongside blinding sparks from the three weapons. In terms of raw ability, Carvin, as an Ace Knight, was indeed a step ahead, and his Aura was stronger. Unfortunately, his tactical choice was flawed.

Dana’s spear had been spinning continuously, accelerating with every rotation. Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, it had started small but had now grown into an avalanche capable of burying a house.

Lightning Aura was naturally fierce and destructive. Having accumulated energy for so long, the power coiled within the spear had reached a terrifying level.

Carvin’s block served as the perfect release valve.

With a series of sharp snaps, the lead curved blade shattered into countless fragments, while the second blade was thrown back with a massive chip torn out of its edge by the raw violence of the impact.

Although she succeeded in disarming him, Dana did not escape unscathed. Carvin’s hidden force possessed immense penetrative power; it surged up the shaft of her spear, rupturing the skin of her hands. The webbing between her thumbs and index fingers tore open, coating the grip of her spear in crimson.

Yet she did not pause for a fraction of a second. With a sharp shudder of the spear, she lunged straight at Carvin.

Carvin instinctively brought up his damaged blade to block. It was a reaction born of muscle memory, but regret instantly washed over him. He realized he should have dodged; this was already the seventh strike.

Before he could correct his mistake, the spear bore down on him like a hurricane, the sharp tip serving as the eye of the storm.

Despite the danger, Carvin saw a glimmer of hope. He sensed that this strike lacked sufficient power.

Though blocking the previous attack had cost him dearly, it had broken Dana’s momentum. The current lunge carried far less force than before.

Carvin decided to take a gamble. He used his broken blade to force a block while sliding his other hand along the spear shaft to strike.

Suddenly, the hurricane turned into a flash of lightning. Dana’s transition was incredibly swift.

The moment Carvin’s blade met the spear tip, he knew something was wrong. Having studied the Lightning House’s techniques extensively, he knew this strike could not be taken head-on.

Another shatter of metal echoed through the air as the broken blade disintegrated into flying shards.

Not only did the blade shatter, but the hand holding it was mangled by the force.

Carvin scrambled backward as a purple arc of electricity singed his clothes.

Simultaneously, Dana took a hit. The blade sliding along her spear had been impossible to avoid entirely.

The Lightning House’s techniques were built on relentless offense with no regard for defense; it was a style of mutual destruction, where both sides bleeding was a common outcome.

This was the eighth strike.

Fury consumed Carvin. He had never imagined that, as an Ace Knight, he would be pushed to such humiliating limits.

Worse still, if the ten strikes concluded in this state, anyone watching would judge him the loser.

Humiliated and enraged, the hypocrite’s facade crumbled, exposing his violent nature. His face contorted as the dark emotions he usually hid broke free.

The broken blade suddenly erupted with a localized Aura blade several meters long, while his other hand traced a mysterious, sweeping arc.

The Aura blade was straight and sharp, slicing through the air with terrifying force, while the arc flickered and darted with unpredictable speed.

With a loud snap, Dana’s spear broke in two, the fracture occurring barely half an inch from her right hand. Reacting instantly, she gripped the remaining half-shaft with one hand and swung it to meet the blow.

The strange arc of light scraped against the right side of her battle armor.

But before she could steady herself, a dozen more overlapping arcs of light swept toward her. Their trajectories were completely erratic, drifting like dry leaves in a gust of wind.

The onlookers realized the danger immediately. This was no longer a sparring match; it had turned into a lethal struggle. Taking one of those arcs might only cause a minor wound, but taking two or three would be devastating. Five or six would mean death or permanent crippling.

Lina was the first to spring forward, but two others were even faster, darting into the arena like twin bolts of lightning despite starting later.

One was Dana’s father. Despite his disapproval of his daughter’s choices, blood was thicker than water. He could not watch her die.

The Lightning House was known for its raw power, but few realized its techniques were also capable of extreme speed.

The other was Trisli. She moved with incredible grace, her body seemingly floating through the air as she thrust a palm forward.

Yet to everyone’s astonishment, Dana—who seemed trapped with no room to maneuver—suddenly moved with blinding speed. Instead of retreating, she lunged directly toward one of the incoming arcs.

This sudden movement shocked everyone. Both Caron and Trisli froze in their tracks. However, Trisli had already released her palm strike, and she could not pull it back.

Both sides clashed in a blur. Dana swung her broken spear, striking the arc of light with a sharp ring. The arc shattered, and Dana charged through. The remaining arcs whistled past her, all of them striking empty air.

Ten strikes.

The duel was over.

“You cheated!” Carvin roared, pointing an accusing finger at Trisli. “You violated the rules of a sacred duel by intervening!”

Trisli, ever the quick-witted prodigy, did not bother to argue. Instead, she pointed at Caron. “He ran in too. What do you have to say about that?”

Carvin choked on his words. Everyone knew the Vice-Commander had rushed in to save his daughter, but the Vice-Commander was supposed to be on his side.

The arguments he had prepared on the fly could have been used against anyone from Squad 105, but dragging the Vice-Commander into it would do him no favors.

“The Commander did not strike,” Carvin argued, desperate to salvage the situation. If he admitted defeat, he would have to honor his vow to leave Dana alone.

“Fine. Even if I did intervene, it changes nothing. According to the rules of dueling, if both sides commit an infraction, the match is declared void, and we can simply hold another one,” Trisli said with a sweet smile.

“How can you say that?”

“Whose side are you on anyway?”

Margaret, Rosa, and the sisters immediately protested.

Calli, Nora, Robin, Lina, and Richie remained silent. The first two rarely spoke unless necessary, Robin was Trisli’s close friend and would not speak against her, and Lina was skilled enough to understand Trisli’s angle.

Dana’s sudden burst of speed at the end was abnormal.

The only explanation was that she had broken through her bottleneck. Lina knew that the Lightning Aura had nine stages. The first five merely offered superior power and destructive force, placing it in the category of advanced arts. But from the sixth stage onward, the Aura underwent a qualitative change, shifting its focus from raw power to extreme speed.

It was this mastery of speed in the final four stages that earned the Lightning Aura its place among the legendary top-tier arts.

While Squad 105 bickered, Carvin’s group remained entirely silent.

If even outsiders like Trisli and Lina had noticed the change, how could Carvin, who knew the Lightning Aura inside out, not realize Dana had just become an Ace Knight?

Moreover, he knew better than anyone how terrifying a practitioner of the Lightning Aura became upon reaching the Ace rank. The leap in strength was far greater than that of ordinary Knights.

“If you refuse to accept this result, we can have another match. You choose the time and place. If you accept it, then we will call it a draw,” Trisli pressed relentlessly.

A draw still meant Dana won according to their initial agreement. Carvin’s face turned ash-grey, but he could not find a way to vent his fury.

June was also the season for store clearance sales. Because of the heat, fewer people shopped, forcing stores to cut prices to attract customers.

Richie was no stranger to shopping with women, so he knew today would be exhausting. He was the designated pack mule.

Although Carvin had refused to formally concede, everyone tacitly treated the duel as a victory for Dana.

In high spirits, Captain Calli granted the squad a day off.

It was both a celebration of Dana’s victory and a commemoration of Squad 105 gaining another Ace Knight.

Unlike Lina, Dana was highly popular. She had always fought on the front lines and, as the Vice-Captain, had looked after everyone. The entire squad was genuinely happy for her.

Shopping with women was exhausting, but shopping with female Knights was terrifying. Their physical endurance was unmatched, meaning they could walk all day without tiring, and their purses were exceptionally deep. Lina was a wealthy heiress, but the other women in Squad 105 were also wealthy in their own right. Knights earned high salaries and allowances, and with free military lodging and meals, they rarely had opportunities to spend their money.

Richie had always known Knights were wealthy, but this shopping trip truly showed him the extent of their riches.

Although Calli and Dana rarely bought elegant dresses, cosmetics, or perfumes, it did not mean they lacked feminine desires.

They simply had few occasions to wear such things.

However, there was one thing no woman could resist.

Jewelry.

Their eyes locked onto the sparkling gemstones the moment they entered the shops.

“Richie, look at this. Does this necklace suit me?”

“Help me check this bracelet. What do you think?”

“This hairpin is nice too!”

Every jewelry store they entered threw the women into a state of excitement.

Naturally, they emerged carrying piles of boxes.

Fortunately, jewelry was compact, so Richie could easily carry the packages.

The women seemed to know every jewelry store in Peines, sweeping through them one by one, sometimes backtracking between stores just to compare a specific design.

Richie followed them, feeling a deep, soul-crushing exhaustion.

After several hours of walking, evening approached, and the women began to argue over where to have dinner. Dana did not join the argument, as she was indifferent to food.

The dispute was mainly between Lina and Robin. Lina preferred rich, hearty flavors and lively atmospheres, while Robin preferred delicate flavors and quiet, elegant venues.

The two argued back and forth.

Although it was Lina and Robin arguing, Richie could tell Lina was actually trying to show off in front of Trisli, with Robin serving as Trisli’s proxy.

Wishing to avoid the crossfire, Richie kept his distance, standing near a street corner.

Ignoring the bickering, Richie scanned his surroundings.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he spotted several familiar figures.

A white-haired old man with a cane was walking alongside a stout, short man, puffing on a pipe. A short distance away, a scholar-looking man wearing round spectacles was conversing with a dignified, silver-haired elderly woman.

Richie hurried back to Lina.

Lina and Robin were still in the heat of their argument. Richie tugged at the hem of her sleeve. Lina glared at him, her temper flared. “What is it?”

“I found a good place,” Richie said, ignoring her glare. He knew arguing was pointless; the best approach was to state the solution.

Lina looked suspicious. She did not think Richie knew the capital well, and she knew how little money the poor boy had. There was no way he knew any high-end restaurants. Yet she knew he would not lie about this.

“Let’s hear it,” Trisli chimed in.

“There’s a restaurant about two hundred meters around that corner,” Richie said.

Lina searched her memory. She was a walking map of Peines, and after a moment, she recalled the place.

“There is indeed an old restaurant there. It’s been open for ages. My father likes it. Most of the clientele are old folks,” Lina said. She reached out and pinched Richie’s cheek. “What did you see there?”

“A silver-haired lady,” Richie said, choosing the person he did not recognize. Lina pinched harder, making him wince. She knew he was hiding something; his eyes always darted around when he was being evasive.

“A silver-haired lady?” Trisli stroked her chin, a smile spreading across her lips. “I think I know who that is. That restaurant is excellent. Let’s go there.”

Lina was just as quick. There were not many famous elderly women in high society. She quickly deduced the identity as well.

Though she had figured it out a second after Trisli, she hated seeing her rival gloat. “Let’s go see for ourselves,” she muttered.

The group turned the corner and walked toward the restaurant Richie had mentioned.

It was an old establishment. The wooden porch bore the marks of time, and the black paint on the edges of the main door had chipped away to reveal patches of red primer. The contrast of bold red and somber black lent the place a unique charm.

The interior was modest. The dining room was narrow and long, with two rows of tables pushed against the walls. The tables were small, though they could be joined for larger groups.

As they entered, a waiter stepped forward to ask if they had a reservation.

The female Knights paid him little attention, their eyes locked onto a large table near the back.

A large group of people sat there, far more than the four Richie had spotted earlier.

“How many do you recognize?” Lina whispered to Trisli.

Trisli offered a wry smile. Lina still insisted on competing with her.

To be honest, Trisli felt a chill run down her spine when she saw the gathering.

Ten people sat at that table, and she only recognized seven. Every single one of them was a legendary figure at the absolute peak of their respective fields. Though she did not know the other three, her intuition told her they were of equal, if not greater, standing.

“Why aren’t you speaking?” Lina taunted. She rarely got the chance to leave her old rival speechless, and she was certain Trisli only recognized seven, whereas she recognized one of the remaining three.

With such a large group staring, the elders at the table naturally noticed them. Since Lina, Robin, and Trisli recognized most of the elders, and the elders recognized them in turn, nods of greeting were exchanged, though the older generation showed no intention of coming over.

Only the librarian stood up.

As he did, the others prepared to stand as well, but the librarian gestured for them to remain seated. He murmured something, and the elders sat back down, though the looks they cast toward the newcomers shifted slightly.

This interaction did not escape Squad 105. Trisli and Robin were stunned. They knew the identities of most of the elders, yet they did not recognize this scholar-like man.

Even without knowing his name, the elders’ behavior made it clear that this man held an extraordinary position among them.

The sensory capabilities of Knights far exceeded those of ordinary humans, and Nora, an expert scout, possessed even greater perception. Yet none of them could hear a single word from that table. This shocked them, as it meant one of the elders was actively blocking their perception—an execution of power they could not comprehend.

Seeing the librarian approach, Richie stepped forward respectfully. Even Lina lost her usual brashness.

“What a coincidence. Are you all here for dinner?” the librarian greeted them. He glanced at Richie and nodded in approval. “Excellent. Knowing how to adapt is a fine quality.”

Richie immediately understood. The librarian was referring to “A Glass of Blood.”

“I could not have made such a breakthrough without your guidance,” Richie said with rare humility.

“Have you figured out how to use the knightly blade Espol gave you?” the librarian asked. He had not come over to exchange pleasantries.

With his level of mastery, he had seen through Richie’s issues instantly. Richie’s problem was “chaos.” His training methods, combat techniques, and future path were all disorganized. He had started as a Light Defender, and his self-created “Reflective Mirror” was worthy of being called a secret technique. However, the future for Light Defenders was bleak; very few had ever reached the Heavenly stage, let alone become Sword Saints.

The members of Squad 105 had noticed this as well, which was why Richie had transitioned to an anomalous style—a rare choice, but one with a far brighter future, as several legendary Sword Saints had walked a similar path.

The librarian believed that if Richie stuck to this path, his future would be bright. Among the seventeen divine arts, the “Vajra Scripture” was the most suited for a Light Defender.

Unfortunately, Richie had learned the “Harmonic Lightwheel” from Lina. It was not the ideal choice, but the librarian had been intrigued, as the Lightwheel was one of the divine arts he himself had mastered.

In a moment of impulse, he had used the Sword Saint Inheritance method to imprint a portion of his insights into Richie’s mind. He had regretted it afterward, realizing it was a rash decision that forced Richie down a specific path.

To succeed on this path, Richie would have to alter his combat habits.

Because of this, the librarian had asked Espol to forge and deliver that unique blade as both guidance and compensation.

“I am indeed struggling with it,” Richie admitted, scratching his head. Since receiving that weapon—which was neither fully a sword nor a saber—he and Lina had tried to find a way to utilize it, but with little success.

“Struggling is good,” the librarian said. He glanced at Lina, then at Trisli. “If you have questions, consult those around you. If one person cannot help, ask another.”

Richie followed his gaze and looked at Trisli, understanding the hint.

During their time together, he had realized Lina lagged far behind Trisli in terms of knowledge and perspective. Lina hated studying, whereas Trisli was deeply versed in various fields of research. In many ways, Trisli’s analytical approach reminded him of the librarian.

The librarian did not intend to say more, but he offered one final piece of advice: “Sometimes, you must learn what to discard.”

With that, he nodded to the female Knights. “I will leave you to your meal. My friends are waiting.”

Just as he turned to leave, the restaurant door burst open, and a man rushed inside.

The female Knights turned, their expressions instantly souring.

It was Carvin.

This time, Dana’s father was not with him. Instead, he was accompanied by a group of Knights.

Ignoring the rest of Squad 105, Carvin marched straight to Dana. He held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small red jewelry box in the other.

“Didn’t you promise to stop pestering me?” Dana said, her face dark with annoyance. She had expected him to break his word, but she had not expected him to show up so soon.

“I didn’t lose. According to the rules, you were the one who defaulted. The Vice-Commander stepped into the arena to save you. I only held my tongue at the time out of respect for his position,” Carvin said, his voice dripping with righteous indignation.

“I have seen shameless men, but none to match this,” Lina muttered, shaking her head. The others glared at him with disgust, including Trisli.

Richie whispered into the librarian’s ear, recounting the events of the morning duel, regardless of whether the elder cared to listen.

Richie had his own motives. He knew the librarian’s standing was immense, far exceeding that of Lina’s father. He did not expect the elder to fight his battles, but having such a figure as a witness was invaluable.

“You know my feelings for you. I cannot live without you, and our marriage was agreed upon by your father,” Carvin pleaded, making a subtle gesture to his companions.

The Knights he had brought along immediately began to clamor in support. Carvin had been driven to desperation. The morning’s defeat had left his mind in chaos, but after cooling down, he realized that if he did not secure Dana now, he would lose her forever.

He knew how powerful a practitioner of the Lightning Aura became upon reaching the Ace rank. Once Dana consolidated her breakthrough, she would easily defeat him in under ten strikes.

With her rise in strength would come a rise in status. Powerful suitors would inevitably emerge.

Carvin knew his own standing. Among the Knights of his generation, he was at the absolute bottom of the Ace rank.

Thus, he decided to risk offending the Vice-Commander. He was confident he could smooth things over later.

“Lady Dana, you must know that today’s duel was highly irregular. Dueling rules allow for post-match appeals, and I have already submitted the record to the Knight Headquarters’ arbitration panel,” Carvin said, sighing with feigned reluctance. “I did not want to do this, as it will bring shame upon Lord Caron, whom I respect deeply…”

As Carvin prattled on, the librarian’s companions grew curious about the gathering and walked over to watch.

“What is going on here?” Madame Shar, the silver-haired lady, asked, her curiosity piqued.

Having heard Richie’s explanation, the librarian had little affection for Carvin. Though he had once been young and understood the pursuit of love, Carvin’s underhanded methods were contemptible.

Given his standing, the librarian spoke plainly, pointing at Carvin. “This man is pursuing that young lady. He tried to pressure her through her father, then demanded a duel, and now that he has lost, he seeks to wriggle out of the result.”

As a woman, Madame Shar despised such behavior in the Knightly class. Hearing the librarian’s summary, her anger flared. “What kind of father forces his daughter onto such a pathetic creature? Does this thing even deserve to be called a Knight? He is barely a man. If he is a Knight, then the title is worthless…”

Despite her elegant appearance, Madame Shar possessed a venomous tongue.

Lina, Robin, and Trisli were familiar with her temperament, but the members of Squad 105 were stunned. They knew Madame Shar was a figure of equal standing to Espol and the Empress of the Packington Holy Empire.

Carvin’s reaction was one of pure, unbridled fury.

The events of the day had pushed him to the brink. After planning for so long, he had finally forced Dana into a duel, only for everything to fall apart.

He felt as though he had fallen from heaven to hell. “Shut your mouth, you old hag!” he roared.

Carvin had lost all reason. Had he known this silver-haired woman was Madame Shar, the legendary “Mind Controller” and one of the three Great Craftsmen, he would have groveled at her feet.

“An old hag?” Madame Shar’s eyes narrowed. It was the one insult she could not tolerate. In her youth, many had called her that, which had driven men away and left her to live a solitary life.

Like many elderly ladies, she carried a long-handled umbrella, using it for sun, rain, a cane, and, when angered, a weapon.

She raised the umbrella and swung it toward Carvin’s head.

Such an attack posed no threat to a Knight, but Carvin, consumed by rage, lashed out with a wave of destructive Aura.

The moment he struck, panic seized him.

In the Republic, injuring a civilian was a severe crime.

Madame Shar was barely a step away. Neither Lina, Robin, nor Trisli could intervene in time. Shocked by his actions, the three female Knights launched their own attacks at Carvin.

In that split second, the seemingly slow librarian appeared beside Madame Shar.

No one saw him move. He simply traced a finger through the air.

Carvin’s Aura and the strikes from the three female Knights vanished instantly, dissolved by that simple gesture.

Yet the gesture did not stop Madame Shar’s umbrella.

With a sharp crack, the umbrella struck Carvin’s face, leaving a bloody welt. The force of the blow sent him flying backward.

“Fortunately, his strength is lacking,” the librarian murmured, catching Madame Shar’s umbrella.

Few understood his words. Only his companions knew that the force behind the umbrella’s strike had been Carvin’s own redirected Aura.

The librarian had not previously mastered redirection techniques like Richie’s “Reflective Mirror,” but his interest in Richie’s combat style had prompted him to study them. With his level of mastery, he had learned the technique effortlessly.

“Did I not say so? He is barely a man,” Madame Shar said, looking down at the fallen Carvin with disdain.

The police arrived shortly after. Recognizing the dispute involved Knights, they summoned the military police and enforcement Knights.

The standard questioning began, but the moment the elders produced their credentials, the officers paled.

For the visiting foreign envoys, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had issued credentials in five colors: red, green, blue, white, and gold. Only seven gold credentials existed, reserved for heads of state.

Only two holders of the gold credentials were known: Empress Annielia XIX of the Packington Holy Empire and Regent Milosevich of the Rosoto Empire.

Yet before them lay three gold credentials.

The inspecting officer broke into a cold sweat, verifying the documents multiple times before accepting them. Even Madame Shar held a white credential, putting her on par with foreign ministers.

The scribes proceeded with extreme caution.

When they questioned Squad 105, the enforcement Knights were more polite. They recognized Lina and Robin and dared not press them too hard. As for Trisli, she also held a white credential.

Half an hour later, several carriages arrived outside.

The discovery of the gold credentials had sent shockwaves through the government. Many feared a conspiracy by the Norman Alliance.

Fortunately, the officials received updates before they arrived.

Once they understood the situation was merely a domestic dispute, they breathed a sigh of relief, though the involvement of the foreign dignitaries forced them to make an appearance.

Seven or eight high-ranking officials entered, including Lina’s father, representing the Knight Headquarters.

As they approached the door, they heard a woman’s voice shouting from within.

“Are you that brainless father? In all my years, I have never seen such an idiot. To have such a daughter and try to force her onto that useless worm! Does that thing deserve to be called a Knight? If he is a Knight, then the title is a joke…”

The officials stood outside, hesitant to enter. None of them wanted to face the wrath of the legendary Madame Shar.

They all knew who was receiving the tongue-lashing.

It could only be Caron, the Vice-Commander of the Seventh Legion.

“Caron…” one official muttered, shaking his head.

“Caron is not old, yet he has grown foolish. I have heard of this Carvin, and his reputation is indeed lacking. I wonder why Caron held him in such high regard,” another remarked.

Lina’s father smiled faintly. He felt a sense of relief for Caron. While the scolding would be public embarrassment, it was a minor punishment compared to what the government might have imposed to appease the foreign envoys.

His only concern was Caron’s temper; if Caron clashed with Madame Shar, the fallout would be severe.

Yet he could not enter alone.

His worries were unfounded. Although Caron was stubborn and quick-tempered, he was no fool.

He had gathered the facts before arriving and was well aware of Madame Shar’s reputation. He had prepared himself for the scolding.

As a traditional Knight, Caron held absolute respect for the strong. Madame Shar’s standing in her field was equivalent to that of a Sword Saint. Since Caron was only a prospective Glorious Knight, he accepted her rebuke as a subordinate would accept a reprimand from a superior.

As he stood there, Caron reflected on the matter.

He had ignored past warnings about Carvin, assuming they were born of jealousy. Carvin had always behaved impeccably in his presence.

But now, doubts began to surface.

Carvin’s appeal to the arbitration panel was an act of betrayal that placed Caron in an impossible position.

To verify Carvin’s character, Caron had questioned several Knights from the legion. He told them Carvin had been arrested for assaulting Madame Shar and would likely be sent to the penal battalions.

With Carvin’s career ruined, the Knights spoke freely, revealing his true nature.

The revelation left Caron deeply disappointed.

Yet he also felt a sense of relief that his daughter had not married him.

Accepting the tongue-lashing in silence, Caron merely nodded. Seeing him refuse to argue, Madame Shar eventually grew bored. She preferred opponents who fought back.

“Forget it. This is a family matter. I have no business meddling further,” the old lady said, turning to the door. “I know you have been waiting outside. Come in.”

As a high-level Psion, she had been aware of their presence all along. Even without the librarian’s protection, she was more than capable of defending herself.

As the doors opened and the officials filed in, Caron stepped aside and walked toward his daughter.

“Father, have you come to force me to marry Carvin?” Dana asked, her tone laced with bitterness.

Carvin’s actions had pushed her too far.

“I must admit I was mistaken,” Caron sighed, looking suddenly older.

Neither was good with words, and a tense silence fell between them. After a long moment, Caron offered an awkward peace offering. “Your Lightning Aura has reached the sixth stage. The technique changes significantly after this point. Come home when you have time…”

It was a clear gesture of reconciliation. Understanding her father’s pride, Dana offered a soft response. “I haven’t visited Mother’s grave in a long time. I plan to go soon.”

Caron nodded repeatedly, a faint smile returning to his face.

​