“Teacher Astraea, are you awake?”
Luo En looked at the drowsy little elf with some concern.
He remembered that she had gone to bed quite early last night, so he had no idea why she was so sleepy.
The overindulged little elf, sensing Luo En’s worry, guiltily turned her head away.
What could she say?
That she’d been mining all night and barely gotten any sleep?
That would be the end—she’d never be able to hold her head up in front of Luo En again.
So the little elf awkwardly changed the subject, “N-no, it’s nothing. Let’s get going.”
“Are you sure that’s okay, Teacher Astraea? If you didn’t rest well, we could prepare for another day,” Luo En suggested.
“No, no, we’re leaving today.”
Astraea finally snapped fully awake, though she still let out a yawn.
Port Tils was a beautiful city, but she’d already lingered here for two years.
The longer she stayed in one place, the easier it was to expose her identity.
No, actually, the three sect members they’d gone to see yesterday already knew who she was—yet for some reason, they hadn’t revealed her.
The little elf didn’t dare gamble on whether they’d keep silent.
Her elven identity was still on the wanted list in Port Tils.
So, ignoring her exhaustion, Astraea grabbed the large stockpile of supplies she’d bought yesterday, retrieved Lily from the stables after her day of absence, and after one last check, she led Luo En out of Port Tils.
***
“Haaah…”
This was who-knew-how-many-th yawn from the little elf.
If she’d only missed one night of sleep, her elven physique shouldn’t have made her this groggy.
But her nighttime activities had drained a massive amount of energy, so the little elf, who’d insisted on walking, soon succumbed to fatigue and sat down on Lily’s back.
Some of the luggage Lily had been carrying was now strapped to Luo En’s back.
In a way, it wasn’t much different from Luo En carrying the little elf directly—but she certainly didn’t have the face to ask him to do that.
“Sorry… I should have listened to you and stayed one more day in Port Tils,” Astraea said apologetically, feeling bad about Luo En’s burden.
But if she had stayed an extra day, there was no way she’d cheap out on just one double room again!
Every time she saw Luo En, she felt like casting Silent Water Magic, and that would only ruin her rest further.
Only two separate rooms would let her sleep!
Luo En just gave a faint smile and said, “It’s all right. When I was a squire, I had to carry much heavier loads than this.”
“I see.” This was the first time the little elf had heard Luo En talk about his past, which sparked a new curiosity.
“Isn’t your father a baron? Why did you have to start from a job as lowly as a squire? You could have just been a spoiled brat at home, but instead you chose to be a knight’s errand boy~ Could it be… that you were kicked out for being useless at home? Or did the baLuo En finally realize you were a failure and didn’t want to pass the title to you?”
Astraea’s cheeks flushed slightly, but every time she spoke to Luo En, her tone turned this way.
The sect members had said she was fine now, though.
“That’s the path every knight must take.” Luo En replied calmly, already getting used to the little elf’s way of speaking.
“Being a squire isn’t just training—it’s also how senior knights pass on their experience to us.”
“Besides, my father has already helped me a lot. The child of a knight—or of a family even lower—starts as a page. My father helped me skip that stage.”
The little elf understood.
So this was the human knight’s training pipeline.
Pages learned culture and basic training, became squires to follow knights and learn their experience, and then when they became knights themselves, they passed that experience to new squires…
That was how the human kingdom cultivated generation after generation of knights, ensuring that their front-line high-level units never faced a shortage.
And what’s more, the training cycle for humans was terrifyingly short for an elf.
Ten to twenty years could produce a knight.
For an elf, that was just enough time to still be playing in the mud back in the village!
Not every elf had a human-like mindset like Astraea.
Back in the day, Astraea studied eight hours a day—by elven standards, where the average was two hours; she was an absolute try-hard.
And those squires studied and trained for far more than eight hours a day.
Even if elves generally had higher talent, a warrior trained by a human in the same amount of time would definitely surpass an elven one.
‘And on top of that, humans reproduce far faster than elves.’
The little elf thought silently after learning about the human knight training process.
She could already see it: humans far outstripped elves in both troop output and resource management.
The current elves were barely hanging on by the skin of their teeth, relying on their ancient reserves.
Once those old elves were all spent, and it was the new generation’s turn… the elven race was doomed—they were destined to become warm bodies for human firearms.
“Hey, hey, why don’t you have a squire? Could it be that you’re too much of a nobody to get one?”
Astraea asked curiously.
She thought that as a future baron, he’d be quite popular among squires.
“That’s one way to put it. I’m only an apprentice knight—I’m not qualified to take on a squire yet,” the apprentice knight said, “Taking on a squire would be irresponsible to their lives.”
So there were all these layers to knighthood?
In her past life, knights had long disappeared with the development of weaponry, and in this life, elven education never covered such things.
The little elf was truly enlightened.
Her expression then turned a bit strange.
She felt like she was some kind of spy, infiltrating enemy territory to gather intel.
But the little elf had no superior—she had simply run away from the Elven City-State.
“Of course, these are just ideals. In reality, with the Great Expedition ongoing, many veteran knights have been forced to retire due to injuries. The front-line units no longer follow this tradition.”
Luo En said this, and Astraea noticed a hint of melancholy in his voice.
The little elf made a guess.
She remembered that the human kingdom was still a system of lords and vassals.
Luo En’s father, as a vassal of the king, was obligated to march with the main army.
But the baron was staying in his domain—so who was fulfilling that duty for him?
‘Wait… Luo En has been looking forward to joining the Great Expedition all along? And one of the enemies of the Great Expedition is…’
Elves.
Astraea shuddered.
She felt the little courage she’d mustered drained away.
If Luo En found out her identity, he would definitely cut her down with his sword, wouldn’t he?
“Enough about that. Teacher Astraea, where’s our next destination?”
The apprentice knight ended the topic.
Right now, he was more of a greatsword fighter than a knight—he didn’t even have a horse.
It was better to just follow the little elf and learn a few spells first.
Astraea pulled the kingdom map from the luggage on Lily’s back.
Luo En had seen a more detailed one in his father’s study, but this was good enough for now.
The little elf traced her finger across the unfolded map.
The main human army was campaigning north against orcs and dwarves, so that area probably wasn’t safe.
The north was quickly ruled out.
The only options left were south or west.
The south was said to have once been an elven overseas territory, seized by humans twenty years ago.
Many elven buildings remained, making it a popular tourist spot.
But Astraea had seen enough elven architecture in eighteen years at the Elven City-State; only if she got homesick would she want to take a look.
So the target was west—heading to the central region of the human kingdom, the capital.
The little elf explained her plan to Luo En.
He had no objections.
Due to the lack of basic administrative control, the vast wilderness between cities was extremely dangerous, filled with various monsters and sub-intelligent beings.
Take the classic goblins, for example.
Even though elven scholars refused to admit it, based on human priests’ anatomical research, these creatures were undoubtedly distant relatives of elves.
But they had pitifully little intelligence, reproduced even faster than humans, and were physically quite weak in exchange.
The kingdom’s vast wilderness was swarming with such creatures, which in turn supported countless adventurers who made a living hunting them.
So whichever direction the little elf chose, Luo En could use it to hone himself and improve his combat skills.
“Haaah…” The little elf yawned.
Sitting on Lily’s back, she watched Luo En draw his longsword and, with effortless efficiency, slaughter over a dozen goblins that had blocked their path.
These low-intelligence pack creatures just waved clubs they’d picked up from somewhere and hissed at Luo En.
Each time Luo En’s longsword swung down, it cut through both the goblin and its wooden club.
“Your speed’s a bit off. Reduce your swing arc. It’s good to have a pattern, but don’t cling to it all the time.”
Watching her biological cousins—in a sense—being hacked to pieces, the little elf felt not a stir of emotion.
Come on.
Did humans feel sympathy for monkeys when they hunted them?
Especially since these goblins loved to capture elves for breeding.
Even these goblins had probably sensed the little elf’s aura and come to block her.
If Luo En hadn’t acted, Astraea would have dropped an area destruction magic on them herself.
These goblins were a menace.
Killing them might even let her collect a bounty at the nearest Adventurer’s Guild.
“Whew…” Luo En exhaled.
Following the form strictly did let him take down these goblins, but the cost was high.
He really should listen to the little elf and not stick to rigid patterns.
“I understand. I’ll pay more attention next time.” The apprentice knight savored the practical experience, then seemed to recall something.
“These goblins appearing here means there must be a nest nearby. Do you want to go wipe it out?”
“Of course. If you’re going to do good, do it all the way— that’s how you go from a nobody to an honest, decent knight~”