The Old Lord seemed to see a faint, flickering image of a knight appearing beside the Mage Girl.
Just like the statue standing in the center of the Defensive City.
The expression on Old Osiris’s face could no longer be described as shock—he was beginning to doubt his own sanity.
“I can understand how you feel. I felt almost the same way at first.” Xiadam was very pleased with his reaction.
“Vice Commander? You… is it really you? How did you become…” Osiris stammered, his voice trembling.
“It was a curse. I was cursed. I lost all my strength—I can’t even swing a sword anymore.” Xiadam forced a bitter smile.
“How could this be? Is it another plot from the Royal Capital? Those petty schemers! Cough!” Osiris flew into a rage, coughing violently, nearly dropping his sword.
“Don’t get angry, you old bag of bones.” Seeing this, Xiadam helped him back onto the bed.
She took the Commander Knight Sword from his hand, slid it back into its scabbard, and set it by the bed.
Gripping his own scabbard, much of Osiris’s resentment seemed to melt away, and he finally calmed down.
“Do you believe me? Do you really believe that I am Sadam Ludwig?”
Xiadam also slid her own sword back into its scabbard, sat by the bed, and spoke in a much gentler tone.
“You can say that name, and you have that sword—there’s no reason for me to doubt you. If you told me you were that boy’s daughter, maybe I’d question it a bit. After all, you were a stubborn old bachelor who didn’t understand women at all, haha.” Osiris recalled the past and immediately started teasing.
The joy of old friends reunited made the old man laugh and cry at the same time, tears streaming down his face.
Before becoming the Nameless Hero who put an end to war, Hero Xiadam had guarded the border for twenty years.
She joined the Order of War Knights, experienced countless events, and forged deep bonds of brotherhood with her fellow Campaign Knights.
Until one day, the Kingdom ordered her to lead the army to invade a Neighboring Country, and everything changed.
“It was my willfulness that caused you all to suffer.” Xiadam said.
“Don’t! Don’t ever say that! I don’t want to hear those words from you!” Osiris suddenly became agitated.
“I…” Xiadam was taken aback.
“None of us ever thought you wronged us. We all agreed with your decision. Did you see the statue standing outside? You didn’t fail us—it was us who couldn’t help you. We were the useless ones. If you’re my brother, don’t say such empty words. We can’t bear even a bit of that burden for you… I’d rather you just yell at me.” Osiris spoke rapidly, his tone emotional.
“I understand. For now, just rest.” Xiadam was at a loss for words.
Of course, she knew that her knight brothers had always supported her.
Our Order of War Knights forged our bonds in the darkness of the Abyss of Mana.
The only things we could trust were our own warhorses and the knights fighting shoulder to shoulder beside us.
This kind of bond, forged in iron and blood, probably only disappears when we’re carried to the grave.
“I owe you too much, and I haven’t been able to help you at all.” Osiris started to feel guilty.
“You’re wrong. Now it’s my turn to be unhappy with what you’re saying.” Xiadam suddenly retorted.
“Your son, your Defensive Knights—I’ve seen them. You’ve done a great job training the next generation.”
“We’re a knight order. Some fight, some nurture the young. Only this way does our spirit live on forever.”
“It’s you who has passed down the spirit of us Campaign Knights. You’ve already done enough.”
Hearing Xiadam’s words, Osiris’s expression immediately relaxed.
The knot that had troubled him for years was suddenly untied.
The old Campaign Knight opened his mouth but couldn’t say a word.
In the end, he could only nod firmly at Xiadam, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted.
“But the Gate Guards you have here are really something else—always dozing off, no sense of vigilance.” Xiadam laughed.
“We’re just knights in name here. This place is nothing but a Reserve Camp—nowhere near as tough as the Northern Region.” Osiris replied.
Once the old fellows started reminiscing about their glory days, it was easy to open the floodgates.
After the sentimental talk, they moved on to cheerful tales of their youth.
They talked all afternoon.
“When’s dinner?”
Sheffield sat nearby with the Fat Little Dragon in her arms, listening to them boast all afternoon, so hungry she was listless.
Xiadam talked until Osiris was nodding off.
The old man needed to sleep early and rest.
After chatting himself tired, Osiris fell asleep the moment he lay down, a contented look on his face.
He hadn’t slept so well in ages.
“Talked until he was dizzy…”
Xiadam and Sheffield left the study, finally able to go eat.
Lord Lavini had prepared a sumptuous dinner for the two of them.
Now it was Sheffield’s turn to enjoy herself—she devoured everything on the table, eating like a whirlwind.
Xiadam ate elegantly, sipping soup and picking at her food, just enough to get the minimum nutrition she needed.
Her body was very resistant to hunger, but who wouldn’t want to eat a bit more? Eating more would help her put on weight.
But if she ate too much meat, she’d get bloated, so there was nothing she could do.
The Fat Little Dragon was even more extreme—it simply refused to eat.
The little thing had developed an aversion to food, probably because Sheffield had force-fed it last time, leaving it traumatized.
Only after Xiadam coaxed it did the Fat Little Dragon symbolically nibble a few bites of meat.
In theory, Ancient Dragons don’t need to eat, so there was no need to worry about its health.
After dinner, they returned to the Guest Room.
After eating, Sheffield climbed onto the bed and went straight to sleep.
What kind of elderly routine is this?
“Time to study.”
At last, Xiadam could take a look at the long-neglected Grimoire.
“Divine Edge!”
As soon as she opened the first page, the bold title appeared before Xiadam’s eyes.
The Fat Little Dragon sat on the sofa, having slept all day and now lively at night, accompanying Xiadam as she read.
It was perfectly well-behaved, though maybe only because it was lazy.
“Mana… Analysis…”
Under the candlelight, Xiadam flipped through the Grimoire.
She quickly realized it was a Grimoire about Weapon Enchantment.
This brought both good news and bad news.
First, the bad news.
The bad news was that this was just a common book you could find at any street stall.
Grimoires are generally more valuable the rarer and more unique their spells are.
But Weapon Enchantment is a type of Common Magic that every kind of Magician can learn—not rare at all.
Now, the good news.
The good news was that she could learn this kind of Common Magic herself, even if it didn’t seem very useful.
“Weapon Enchantment… This is exactly the kind of Grimoire a retired Campaign Knight would pick up.” Xiadam sighed.