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For an unusually long time, Medissa’s attention was drawn to a group of queerly-dressed knights. The knights had halted at the roadside, taking in the surrounding scenery from atop their horses. While their facial expressions varied from person to person, most were merely curious.

In Trentheim, it was rare to see such colorfully dressed knights besides the White Lion Battalion or Brendel’s subordinates. But even members of the White Lion Battalion wouldn’t have a fire shaped badge on their chest armor. Additionally, the design of their armor made it clear that they weren’t native to Aouine.

In contrast to Aouine’s typical suits of plate mail, the knights’ armor was almost entirely dark red and covered in many decorative elements made from fur, leather, and horns. This was classic Kirrlutzian armor style. The armor’s hue stemmed from the fact that Kirrlutzian iron contained a high concentration of the fire element.

“We have some strange visitors.” Medissa thought for a second before realizing who they were.

Why else would diplomats from Kirrlutz appear in Trentheim at this time of year?



Laurenna lowered the iron wristguard she was using to block out the sun and looked over a vast expanse of farmland, a windmill slowly spinning in the distance. But when her gaze landed on the ramshackle Coldwood Castle, a trace of disdain appeared on her expression – Coldwood Castle had been in need of repair ever since Gaudin’s rule and Brendel only used it as a temporary resting place, so he never considered renovating it. Therefore, the young female knight from Kirrlutz could all too easily easily notice every one of the thousand-plus holes in the dilapidated castle.

“I didn’t think that there’d be a place like this so far south in Trentheim’s countryside. Compared to Trentheim, some of the places we visited in the north of this country were nowhere as prosperous as this place – far from it. Didn’t the books say the southern regions were all abandoned and barren fields?” She muttered to herself.

Her attention was drawn to a nearby tournament. The crowd surrounding Coldwood City milled about, and she turned around to carefully examine the knights which happened to be entering the ring.

“The records you read were from years ago. It is not out of the ordinary for things to have changed.” A female voice answered her.

Laurenna didn’t have to turn her head to know who that voice belonged to. It was, without a question, a very unique voice and memorable in every way. The calm and steady tone seemed languid and elegant. It was a voice you heard once and never forgot.

As if the owner of such a voice only spoke once she had considered matters from every possible angle.

If Brendel were here, he’d recognize the owner of the voice. The woman, protected by a ring of Kirrlutz’s knights, looked only to be eighteen or nineteen, but there was something transcendentally mysterious and alluring about her. She was Delphine, the dau

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