The interview with Marquis Lanford was just the beginning.

After that, Arendt was often summoned by the nobles.

There were people like Marquis Lanford who would sneak up on him while he was on patrol, as well as others who would send messages through their servants asking him to join them for tea.

Arendt did not refuse all of the requests, and Laius did not bother to stop him from wandering around as he pleased, so it was natural that the gazes of the Third Knights, which had softened a little towards Arendt, became fierce again. They had noticed that the people Arendt had been meeting recently were a group that opposed the royal family.

Naturally, it was Arthur who was left struggling.

Since it was difficult to talk to Laius or Richt, and since they did not want to talk directly to Arendt, all the arrows naturally turned to Arthur.

Arthur, who had been constantly being harassed by his seniors, finally ended up being pushed into making a declaration.

“Okay, I get it! I’ll watch over him, so stop pestering me!”

Honestly, Arthur couldn’t help but be concerned.

Arthur, who had been waiting for an opportunity to confront Arendt about it, pretended not to notice anything and snuck out one morning to the knights’ training grounds where only the two of them were there.

“What did you talk about with Marquis Lanford?”

“We didn’t really talk much. Just how I was a bit annoyed at being dragged around here and there by the Crown Prince.”

Arendt responded indifferently, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re being dragged around? You? It’s not you dragging the other person around? Do you even have a conscience?”

“My conscience is very sound. Well, I guess it can’t help but look that way to other people.”

“That’s… that’s right,”

It was impossible to imagine that the seniors, knights’ captains, and even the Crown Prince couldn’t handle that guy unless you experienced it yourself.

“Then what about the others?”

“No one else said anything special.”

“You have a good stomach… I think I’d feel sick if I just had one meal with those people.”

Arthur grumbled in disgust, but Arendt just shrugged.

“It’s rewarding in its own way. I hear a lot of different things. I learned quite a lot.”

“Is it worth it?”

“There are things you miss out on if you just stay stuck in the palace.”

“What, for example?”

“Well… for example, the situation in the social world. Even though they’re on the same side, they gossip about each other a lot. It’s quite amusing to just listen to them.”

People who live in their own way will quickly tell you their stories if you just give them a place to rant. There are plenty of people who are anxious because they can’t tell their adventures to just anyone.

Although most of the words they spouted were brags about themselves, he was still able to glean some useful information from them.

Arthur’s face crumpled.

“You shouldn’t take them so lightly. Why do you think those people keep calling you out? It’s obvious they’re trying to twist you in some way, so why do you keep scurrying around?”

“I know, so I’m just running around. Who knows, maybe a drop of useful information will fall?”

“Is that something you should be talking about right now? There are so many people looking at you right now, wondering if there’s something they should find fault with.”

“They can’t take their eyes off me? Well, I’m pretty handsome.”

“Oh, really!”

Just as Arthur was about to burst with anger, he sensed a presence at the entrance to the training grounds.

The conversation between the two people naturally ended.

“Lord Arendt, are you there?”

“What? What’s going on now?”

Seton was seen peering inside the grounds.

Arendt gestured for him to come closer.

Arthur missed his chance to get angry, clicked his tongue, and scratched his head in vain.

“Was it Seton? I’ve been seeing you a lot lately. Did you come back from another shift?”

“Haha… Yes, it’s embarrassing.”

Seton smiled shyly at Arthur’s question and handed Arendt the letter he had brought.

“Lord Arendt, I have brought you a letter!”

“You could have just left it in the dormitory, why did you bring it all the way here?”

“It was marked as urgent and was said to be delivered in person!”

Seton answered, his eyes sparkling brightly.

The truth of his words were sound as the envelope was marked urgent in red.

Arendt looked over the letter he had received carefully, front and back, and widened his eyes slightly.

“Uh?”

“What is it? …Huh?”

Arthur, who had been curiously checking the letter over his shoulder, also let out a dumbfounded sound. He saw that the Eckhart family crest was clearly printed on the envelope.

“What, what is it? Was it sent from your family?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

Compared to Arthur, who asked in confusion, Arendt answered relatively calmly.

As he broke the seal and opened the letter, the faint scent of expensive ink tickled his nose. The smooth, beige paper was of the highest quality, even at first glance.

Arthur knew it was rude, but he couldn’t control his curiosity and checked the contents of the letter over Arendt’s shoulder.

And then a moment later… Arthur’s face suddenly distorted.

“What the heck? They’ve been leaving you alone all this time, so what are they talking about now?”

Arendt blinked blankly, listening to the angry voice.

The content of the letter was overly concise.

Clean up and come back to your home.

I’ll wait for your reply.

Beneath it was engraved the handsome signature of Count Eckhart.

‘Arendt’s initial setting is…’

He was a young master who grew up in a wealthy, noble family, despised the commoners, and eventually even ignored the leader of the fallen nobles, Laius, and acted as he pleased.

But it seemed like that wasn’t all.

‘It seems that this Count also played a part in the loss of the child’s personality.’

When he was alive or about to die, he just left him alone, but now he came and ordered Arendt to come back. Even though his son had caused unbearable troubles, this was a bit too much.

‘Is this the move that Marquis Lanford has come up with?’

He had a rough idea when he mentioned Count Eckhart.

Arendt, who was staring blankly at the writing that did not seem to convey even the slightest hint of family affection, scratched his forehead for no reason.

“Oh, really, this is annoying.”

“…Hey, what are you going to do?”

Arthur, who had been observing the situation carefully, asked cautiously.

Instead of responding to him, Arendt took action right away.

Rip. Crumple.

He tore the letter apart.

Arthur and Seton gaped at the paper, which had been torn to pieces beyond recognition in an instant.

“Ah…”

“Hey, you crazy bastard! What are you doing?”

“What bad luck. I’m already so busy, who is he to give orders to me?”

Arthur, who had been cursing, suddenly lost his composure when he heard that sentence from Arendt.

Actually, there was no one who could give orders to that child. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference whether it was the Captain, the Crown Prince, or even his father.

Arendt placed the torn letter into Seton’s hands, who was just standing there blankly.

“Okay, reply.”

“Yes, yes? But…”

Seton, who happened to grab a handful of pieces of paper, started to cry, but Arendt paid no attention to him at all.

“Just throw it away. If you want, put it in a new envelope and send it to Count Eckhart.”

“Huh?”

“Or spread a rumor that Arendt von Eckhart tore to shreds the letter his father had sent him in a fit of rage.”

But Arendt’s expression, even as he said he was angry, seemed no different from usual. His calm face seemed to have cooled down a little.

Seton, who was unable to do anything, floated out of the training ground in a daze as if he was a wisp in the wind.

Arthur blankly stared at the boy’s back as he slowly walked away.

“This is going to be a mess again… are you sure it’s going to be okay?”

“What can’t be done? The person who is frustrated should come to me in person.”

Arendt shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and took a few steps back.

“Senior, since you’re here, please do something for me. I’ve been dragged around here and there lately, so I haven’t been able to properly stretch my body.”

“Haa… I really don’t know you…”

Arthur sighed deeply, but had no choice but to pick up the wooden sword and throw it at Arendt.

It was a day that was not much different from any other day, although it was precarious.

That afternoon, Arendt returned from a brief outing carrying a thick stack of papers.

Arendt went straight to his room, sat down on the bed, and flipped through the documents.

“I wasted time looking for directions.”

He was worried that he would be met with suspicion if he kept asking questions about his father, so he went to the information center that Neumann had introduced him to.

He had to go to the trouble of putting on a robe and wrapping himself up from head to toe in case anyone recognized him.

The reason he went through all that trouble:

‘Because it could become a variable in the future.’

Falack, Arendt unfolded the papers and scanned them with his eyes.

A simple copied portrait filled the first page.

‘They don’t look alike.’

Unlike Arendt, who was thin, he was a man with strong and broad shoulders. He was a handsome man with red hair and gray eyes, with distinct features, but it was hard to find any similarities between them.

The only similarities that could be said to exist between them are the cold impressions and the stubbornness revealed between tightly shut lips.

His name is Spencer von Eckhart.

His title is Count.

He lives mainly in his own territory.

Since his fiefdom is located on a route from the center of the Empire to other countries, the Count made quite a lot of money through trade.

Below that simple description were the names of the top affiliations, but Arendt just passed them over.

Although he married at a young age, his wife died early, and after that he never remarried and seemed to have focused solely on running his estate.

After graduating from the academy, the eldest son worked alongside the Count and occasionally traveled to the palace on his behalf.

‘Arendt came out to the palace… so am I the only one?’

It seems that he had developed friendly relations with some nobles through trade. It seems that his relationship with the Imperial family was not very friendly, as he occasionally had friction over imported items and trade routes.

It wasn’t a relationship that was that intense.

In addition, if he was to analyze the current imperial family and nobles… the Emperor was still alive and well, and the only heir to the throne was Cantares. However, the nobles were divided because of the neutrality policy maintained by the previous Emperor and the current Emperor.

The Empire continued to be peaceful, so it was no wonder that the current Emperor let the nobles run free. Then, as the nobles’ indulgences grew worse, problems began to arise one by one.

It was Cantares who stepped forward at that time.

When the Crown Prince suddenly seized power and began to strengthen the imperial authority, the nobles naturally protested.

Naturally, factions split into those who claimed to be the emperor’s loyal subordinates and those who maintained the position of watchdogs and rivals of the imperial family.

‘Count Eckhart belongs to the latter.’

In the midst of all this, Arendt joining the Imperial Knights was also quite meaningful.

It’s true that there’s no better place to display your swordsmanship talents than the Imperial Knights, so it might be an exaggeration to say that.

Arendt thought about it for a moment, then closed the papers with a thud.

‘I’ll find out soon enough.’

There was no point in thinking about it now. Anything was just a guess unless he saw it with his own eyes. First, he had to figure out the situation accurately.

Arendt, who was playing with the ends of his snow-white hair and lost in thought, raised the corners of his lips slightly.

‘But still, in any case.’

He thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give his hated father a beating on behalf of the original Arendt.