Richt and Arthur watched Arendt’s movements blankly.

Arendt took hold of a quill and a piece of paper and carefully drew a picture, and after a while, he glanced at Arthur.

“What do you think? Does it seem similar?”

“…En.”

After a brief pause, Arthur nodded.

Arendt furrowed his brow at his expression, which seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

“Why do you look like that?”

“Did you know how to do this too?”

“Yes?”

“…You draw well.”

“Then why don’t you just say that? Why do you have such a sour look on your face? It makes people feel bad.”

On the piece of paper that had clearly been blank until just a few minutes ago, there was now a drawing on it that looked like it could be considered a work of art.

Although it was simplified compared to what Arthur and Arendt had seen, it was safe to say that it was a sufficient reproduction.

In fact, it was a natural thing.

Arendt’s core was in the mid-thirties, having experienced all sorts of hardships and hardships while living a rough and impoverished life on the stage. He was not a well-bred, noble child who had just turned twenty.

In order to reduce the cost of stage preparation, he had no choice but to learn sketching, painting, sanding, and even sawing.

But since he couldn’t explain it, Arendt just clicked his tongue and put down his pen.

Richt, who had turned his attention back to the painting, muttered while rubbing his chin.

“It’s a shape of three swords stabbing the heart. In fact, sword patterns are commonly used. It’s not that it’s particularly unusual… but the meaning behind it is quite aggressive.”

“That’s right, families that have produced knights for generations often use a sword and shield emblem.”

“But what’s important is that we’ve caught the tail. First of all, you two shouldn’t speak carelessly. If information spreads unnecessarily, it will only cause more confusion. I think the captains think the same.”

Arendt responded indifferently, stood up, and rolled up the paper.

After handing this over to Laius, they were planning to set off right away.

They left the castle smoothly, each leading a horse from the Knights’ stables. Although Arendt wasn’t used to it, he managed to find his place on the horse, relying on the lingering senses in his body.

Arendt, who had barely regained his composure while sitting on his horse, straightened his back.

A cool breeze ruffled his hair.

Clop, clop.

The sound of the hooves of the three galloping horses created a rather cheerful rhythm.

‘I’ve done this kind of thing in my life.’

Dressed in uniform, riding a handsome horse, they rode along the road alongside their colleagues. Occasionally, people they encountered would recognize them, smile brightly, and wave at them.

It was the way the people treated their heroes.

Strictly speaking, they were nothing more than the hero’s errand boys.

Arthur and Richt, who were skilled at riding black horses, looked like knights from a heroic tale, no matter what anyone said. It was so disjointed that they felt like they were not on stage.

‘No.’

But Arendt quickly changed his mind.

They weren’t the kind of heroes who could save the world.

One of them was a guy who knew how to use his brain a little, but if you gently teased him, he would quickly lose his temper and start yelling at you, and the other was an annoying guy with a uselessly handsome face who would just hold onto his weight and talk old-fashionedly.

Moreover, he was the same. The original owner of the body was a traitor who had struck the back of the Knights’ head.

Moreover, the one who now held the key was a poor guy who has been working part-time jobs and doing any and every job he could find to make a living, right up until the moment he was hit by a falling light on an old stage.

‘This is the worst.’

A faint laugh escaped his lips. But he soon returned to his original indifferent expression. Now was the time to put aside his idle thoughts and focus on his role as apprentice knight Arendt.

The three of them ran along the road without stopping.

A few hours later… they set out at dawn and arrived at Lovis City, located outside the imperial city, just as the sun was rising high in the sky.

They stopped at the entrance to the city.

As the three of them got down on the ground side by side, a man wearing light leather armor over a dark-colored uniform approached and saluted.

“It is an honor to meet you, knights of the palace. My name is Martin, from the Imperial Intelligence Department of the Lovis City Security Force. I have received a call from the palace and am here to greet you.”

“Ah…”

Police.

From the words that came out of his mouth, Arendt immediately figured out the identity of the man named Martin. Now that the Emperor and the Crown Prince had firmly secured power, each city had a certain number of police stations operating according to its area.

Even the cities of the fiefdoms with separate lords were no exception.

As the name suggests, the security force was mainly responsible for security and management within the city.

Each city had a chief of police, and under him was another member of the intelligence service, which was independent of the police force.

In other words, it was a role of an inspector dispatched from the palace who resided in the region.

And this Martin was an agent of the intelligence service that directly linked the palace and the security forces of each city.

“I’m Richt von Chrysantha. Behind me are Arthur Norbert and apprentice knight Arendt von Eckhart.”

Richt also finished his greeting briefly.

“I guess you already know the purpose of our visit.”

“Yes, I did as the captain instructed and didn’t tell anyone. Not even the chief.”

Martin answered Richt’s question decisively.

He paused for a moment and then added awkwardly.

“Honestly… I’m not too sure about this situation. The sign is unusual, but it’s not that strange.”

“It’s okay. I came here with several possibilities in mind. Please guide me right away.”

Richt nodded to Martin. After leaving the horse in the police stable, they started on foot.

Arendt followed behind and looked around.

Inside the village, buildings built in an old European style were lined up neatly. It was not too far from the imperial castle, so it looked quite well-maintained.

There were several other cities located on the route connecting the zodiac and other regions. At least, this was not the place mentioned in the work.

If that’s the case, then it means that there is no such thing as a major incident.

‘Still, we can’t let our guard down.’

Arendt glanced around absentmindedly.

The streets were full of life.

People greeted each other when they made eye contact, and some of them glanced at the knights who had suddenly appeared, as if they were curious. Some people even quickly stepped back and saluted or bowed their heads.

“Here it is.”

Only when they reached the town’s main street did Martin stop walking. The three others followed suit.

It was a place where shops were spread out around a square with a fountain topped with a splendid statue.

Martin pointed with his hand to a store a short distance away.

“For now, that place… is it.”

Even as he said that, Martin still seemed uncertain.

Arendt turned his gaze in the direction he was pointing.

And after a while, a dumbfounded sound came out of all three people’s mouths at the same time.

“Uh?”

Where Martin pointed out was a pretty pastry shop and bakery.

On the display cases outside, freshly baked, delicious-looking loaves of bread were neatly arranged and basking in the afternoon sunlight, and the busy shop assistants seemed preoccupied with serving customers.

It was a sight you could find anywhere on a peaceful street. The face of a child walking home with his parents, carrying a bundle of soft bread, looked like it had the world.

Everyone kept their mouths shut as if they had made a promise. Martin lowered his head as if he had expected that to happen, so it took Arendt some time to realize what was wrong with what he was seeing.

“Oh, that.”

Arendt spat out briefly.

Almost simultaneously, the two realized what Arendt was referring to.

What caught his eye was a sign hanging on the building slightly above the bakery.

Bread’s Bakery

Right next to the plain-looking bakery name was a simple drawing: a heart-shaped cake with three bread knives stuck into it.

It was a similar composition to the pattern Arendt had drawn earlier.

“….”

They blinked blankly. So, how should they interpret this situation?

The first person to speak was Richt.

“Martin, what you reported was…”

It’s said to be a picture attached to the sign of a popular bakery.

Richt couldn’t bring himself to continue talking.

Martin answered with his head bowed as if he felt guilty.

“Yes that’s right.”

“So, let’s move first.”

Arthur suggested, mindful of the pedestrians.

As Arthur had said, the four of them moved to a deserted alley. Only after there was no sign of people were they able to hear a more detailed explanation from Martin.

“That was all that was relayed from the palace. If you witnessed a symbol with three swords in the heart, relay the information to the Imperial Knights. The details were confidential, so don’t reveal them, and wait until the knights arrive on dispatch.”

Martin had no idea what had happened, so he could only report what he knew to the palace. Because of the added words, he probably couldn’t even report that he had seen it on a bakery sign.

The three dispatched men could fully understand why Martin was hesitating from the beginning.

Arthur nodded, his arms crossed.

“Still… we can’t conclude that it was a waste of time. For now, this is the only clue reported near the capital.”

“That’s true. It’s not a painting that would be suitable for an ordinary bakery. I think it’s worth checking out.”

Richt agreed, and Martin’s expression brightened slightly at those words.

Arendt, who had been thinking for a moment, opened his mouth.

“Is this a store that has been around for a long time…?”

Arendt almost spoke formally without realizing it, but a beat later, realizing who he was, he changed his words.

Fortunately, Martin seemed to accept it naturally.

“No, it’s only been open for a year, so it’s not that old, but the bread and pastries are really delicious, so it’s popular. I visit often.”

“What does the owner do?”

“He moved here when he opened a bakery. He’s a nice guy, and his baking skills are good, so he’s quite popular… but since he’s an outsider, he seems to be out of the shop a lot. Most of the work is done by the clerks.”

Martin answered without hesitation. He was quick-witted and continued speaking before Arendt could ask another question.

“I heard that the clerk is also a relative of the president. He immigrated with them at that time.”

“Aha.”

Arendt nodded, answering vaguely. Then, he suddenly noticed the stinging gaze he felt next to him.

Arendt glanced at Arthur and Richt, who were staring blankly at him.

“What is it?”

“You, you’re the kind of person who can even have a normal conversation. You don’t act like a brat, telling people not to talk to you, and you don’t act like an arrogant…”

It seemed as if Richt also wanted to say something similar.

Arendt clicked his tongue and elbowed Arthur in the side.

Arendt looked at Martin again, ignoring Arthur who had collapsed with a groan.

“Is his identity clear?”

“Yes? Yes… because the police directly checked it when he immigrated. If it was intentionally forged, then that would be another matter.”

Martin was sweating profusely as he witnessed the apprentice knight beating his senior knight.

Arendt nodded roughly and glanced at Richt.

“I think there is ample room for suspicion.”

“Oh, I see.”

Richt nodded, barely taking his eyes off Arthur who was whining.

“We will proceed with the search. If you would like to request the cooperation of the police…”

“Search? Search?”

But his words were cut off midway.

Arendt frowned and glared at Richt. Richt frowned as well.

“What?”

“So now, you’re going to wear these flashy uniforms, bring the security forces, kick out the customers, detain the clerks, and then raid the bakery?”

“…”

Although the tone was strange, it wasn’t wrong, so Richt nodded. At this point, he was anxious about what would come out of Arendt’s mouth.

“Senior, think about it carefully.”

“What.”

“A thief hides in his hideout. Then, out of nowhere, someone comes out, bangs on the door, and starts yelling, ‘Your house is suspicious, so we need to search your house!’ Do you think the thief inside will be caught?”

“That…”

Richt tried to respond, but Arendt didn’t give him time to respond.

“Of course he would run away. Even with the jewels he stole! Wouldn’t he have made at least a back door to his hideout? Then, anyone who opens the door late and enters will only see an empty house.”

“…”

Richt, who had been opening his lips like a carp, soon closed his mouth. He had not yet found the words to refute.

Richt, who was looking golden eyes filled with irritation, ended up groaning.

“Then what should we do?”

He already knew from experience that there was nothing to be gained by arguing with Arendt.

Only then did Arendt turn away and blurt out in annoyance.

“Even if you say there is a method, there is only one more?”

“So, what is that?”

Even Richt’s tone, which had been calm throughout, was tinged with nervousness.

Arendt shrugged and added blandly.

“What else? It’s infiltration.”