“Anyway, thank you very much for your supplement, Mr. Weiss. These details are truly valuable.”
Norsen’s deep blue eyes narrowed slightly, his face still holding a composed smile.
“To survive under such circumstances and provide such a clear account shows your courage and composure.”
There was even a hint of admiration in his gentle tone.
Having taken on many commissions, Weiss had followed numerous nobles and high society figures, but few were as humble and low-key as this one.
Perhaps this was what genuine knightly demeanor truly looked like.
Norsen’s gaze shifted to Lortisa, his posture impeccable:
“I did not expect that Lady Lortisa would bring back not only vital intelligence but also such a rare and brave Witness. Of course, your report at the battle briefing was already thorough. Perhaps I was just a bit uneasy and wanted to discuss the details of that Disaster Source further, so we could end this Evil Tide as soon as possible. But it seems, Lady Lortisa, you have already made your judgment. I suppose my concern was unnecessary.”
His words both acknowledged Lortisa’s prior report and subtly incorporated Weiss’s presence as an “Intelligence Supplement” and “Witness,” implying that Lortisa didn’t mention it simply because she didn’t find it necessary, not out of any intent to conceal.
His demeanor was flawless.
Lortisa only gave a faint “hm,” a minimal response.
Her emerald eyes remained cold, revealing nothing about whether she accepted his reasoning.
Weiss stood to the side, sensing the atmosphere was somewhat delicate.
This noble knight spoke with flawless logic and an impeccable attitude,
but he couldn’t shake the feeling that behind that perfect smile, something else was hidden.
Perhaps he was just overthinking it?
“By the way, I came here specifically because I have a small request.”
Norsen turned to Lortisa, lowering his stance to just the right degree of humility.
“Among the Saintly Patrol Knights sent by the Knight Hall this time, many are rookies engaging the Evil Tide for the first time. Lady Lortisa, as the seasoned Knight Captain who has faced the Disaster Source up close, might you spare some time to visit the Knights’ Camp and offer guidance to those young soldiers? Even a brief inspection and a few words of critique would surely benefit them greatly.”
The noble knight’s request was reasonable, perfectly fitting the role of a responsible military knight considering his subordinates.
His words brimmed with sincere admiration for Lortisa, making it difficult to refuse.
Yet the Knight Captain remained silent for a long moment.
It wasn’t hesitation or contemplation—only indifferent disregard.
Those unwavering emerald eyes seemed to say, “What does this have to do with me?”
Norsen knew well that this Knight Captain was famously stubborn and indifferent to social niceties.
If it weren’t that the request was completely justified and came from a place of duty, she would likely have outright refused—or rather, turned her back without a second thought.
Prepared for this, Norsen naturally turned his gaze to Weiss, his smile becoming noticeably more genuine.
“Of course, Mr. Weiss, you are also welcome to join. After all, you are the brave one who personally battled the Soul-Eater Lord and survived. Such experience should be invaluable to our knights and soldiers.”
Knights in this world were not simply soldiers skilled in horsemanship with good physical fitness trained to fight.
Only those with considerable magical aptitude, whose bodies could harness and adapt to magic-enhancement while excelling in mounted combat, met the threshold to be called “Knights.”
And one’s ability to adapt to magic was often tied to innate talent.
In other words, becoming a knight was something decided from birth.
Such strong gifted Bloodlines generally existed only among the nobility.
The so-called “Knight Lords,” the exalted “knights” and noble “lords,” were inseparable—such was the case.
Transplanted into this world, Weiss, an ordinary man, without the various artifacts drawn from his Wish, would just be a struggling Baseborn at the lowest level,
with no magical aptitude whatsoever.
As a mere mercenary, he knew exactly where he stood.
How could he dare to instruct those noble Knight Lords?
Weiss forced a bitter smile as he declined:
“Ahaha, Mr. Norsen, you flatter me too much. As I said, I owe my life entirely to Knight Captain Lortisa. Against the Soul-Eater Lord, I had no capacity to resist, let alone any experience.
Your Knight Hall’s squads are the elite of the kingdom—one in a hundred. I am but a mercenary; I dare not presume to judge.”
“There’s no need for such modesty.”
Norsen smiled without any hint of condescension.
“Combat experience has nothing to do with rank or status. Consider it broadening your horizons. Even as a mercenary, perhaps you can see some issues we military men, bound by our usual modes, tend to overlook.
Another perspective is always beneficial. Verbal advice is far easier to accept than the costly lessons taught by blood.”
Weiss was helpless.
At this point, the Knight Captain of the Knight Hall was showing genuine humility and respect.
To refuse now would only make him seem petty or cowardly.
“Uh, since Mr. Norsen insists…”
Weiss glanced at the young Knight Captain who had yet to respond.
“I’ll go, too.”
Lortisa finally made up her mind.
“That’s wonderful.”
Norsen smiled sincerely.
Just as expected, there was no mistake.
It was only by inviting Weiss that Lortisa changed her mind and agreed to come.
Though everything had gone according to his plan,
why?
The kingdom’s strongest Knight Captain would actually consent to accompany a stray mercenary who had just been pulled back from the brink?
Norsen’s confusion grew,
and the nameless fury that had burned since the start now flared even hotter inside.
Yet the more enraged he was, the more brilliant the smile that adorned his elegant noble face.
Norsen raised his hand first, calling over the Deputy waiting just outside the Vanguard Camp’s gate and whispered instructions.
Weiss looked at the Deputy, another officer who, compared to the female warrior beside the Knight Captain, seemed more like a noble’s retainer, timid and groveling like a lapdog.
The Deputy bowed respectfully as he listened, and for a brief moment, his eyes inadvertently met Weiss’s.
It felt like a coincidence, but the Deputy quickly averted his gaze and muttered “Yes,” before hurrying away.
After finishing his orders, Norsen gracefully turned sideways, gesturing in invitation:
“Alright, both of you, please follow me.”