Chapter 49 – Materials You Can Get from Knights #1

What comes to mind when you think of knights? Gleaming silver full plate armor. Charging into battle on horseback with massive lances. The ultimate human weapon, seen as the tank of the battlefield. Something like that.

But the knight cadets from the officer academy that Lawrence was looking at right now were nothing more than suffering trainees— no more, no less.

So that's what a real army looks like. Not people living in an era of peace without war, but knights from a time when they truly had to kill or be killed.

"Huff... huff—!"

"Keep in step! Left foot! Left foot! Left foot—!"

Thud—! Thud—!

Having run a long distance in their thick armor, they marched in perfect unison like machines. When they drew near the mages, the instructor leading the knight cadets raised his hand high.

The cadets halted in unison. Even just standing there, they exuded an intimidating pressure that weighed down the air around them. The fluttering flag bore two swords and a pure white griffon—the emblem of Atern, one of the current renowned swordsmanship families.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"How have you been?"

Iron Hanma exchanged greetings with the instructor. The two slowly approached each other and shook hands. On the surface, they seemed friendly, like old acquaintances reuniting after a long time.

But dig a little deeper, and it was a different story.

Crunch—.

Their muscles bulged for an instant. Who did the knights, especially the officer academy, distrust the most? Mages. And among them, the Iron Tower above all.

"Heh heh, still playing at being a knight, are you? Should I get you some armor fitted?"

"It's not like you can't do anything but drop your sword when you lose it, right? I'll sponsor you someday."

"Heh heh heh heh—!"

Crackle—.

Sparks began flying from their eyes.

Lawrence watched with a small sigh. What were these grown adults doing—leaders of their respective groups, no less?

So he slipped in between them. Seeing no one else stepping up, he figured he'd borrow a bit of his family's prestige here.

Lawrence strode boldly between the two.

"Tower Master, we don't have time for this. Let's move on. And Instructor, shouldn't you let your cadets unload their heavy gear soon?"

"Who are you?"

The instructor, Bentley, asked. Running the officer academy meant he was a key figure in Atern. His pride wasn't low.

But Lawrence's status wouldn't yield anywhere either. He smiled brightly and revealed his identity.

"The youngest of the Montemer family."

"Montemer...? Someone from Montemer is in the Iron Tower?"

"That's how it turned out."

Instructor Bentley eyed Lawrence with curiosity. Scanning his sturdy frame quickly, Bentley nodded inwardly.

"Not a bad build. Well, we can't keep this up in the middle of the street."

"And... we should probably get our formation straight. For the citizens' sake..."

"...What did you say?"

Bentley's eyes sharpened. Instead of snapping at Lawrence on instinct, he checked his cadets' condition.

It was a long march, but not one they couldn't handle. Yet, for cadets of the prestigious Atern family, they looked far too frail here and there.

These bastards are slacking. Why's that foot twisted? Why's his head drooping? Why's the flag at the wrong angle!?

Bentley's eyes grew fierce. Lawrence took the chance to bow politely and slip away.

"Then we'll head out first. We can't disturb the knights' march."

"You bastards, get your heads straight—! Chest out! Formation! Formation—!"

"......"

The Tower Master looked amazed at how Lawrence, a mage, handled the knights so adeptly.

How could he speak so smoothly like that?

"Do they teach military training in Montemer too?"

"Just experience."

"Kid, you're only eleven, you know that?"

Lawrence just smiled without a word.

And so, the Iron Tower mages safely made their way to the assembly point. It was one day as winter drew to a close.

"Oh, there they come."

"I thought we were the last, but Iron Tower's the latest."

"The distance is what it is, so it must've taken a while. And they're famous for not using transport unless it's really far."

"......"

The assembly point. Inside Oberon's massive barracks. Loria and Captain Freya were chatting while watching the Iron mages enter from deeper inside.

They moved to greet them at the same time.

"Oh, sis."

"You're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠late. Guess the distance was farther than expected. Greetings, Tower Master."

"How have you been? Good to see everyone healthy."

"I'm Freya. Here as the Tower Master's aide."

Freya bowed politely to the Tower Master too. No need to stir trouble with the famously eccentric Iron Tower head.

The Crimson Tower handled fire magic, but they valued pure character just as much.

"Pleased to meet you. Heard you're taking the elder exam soon. Good luck."

"Thank you."

"Captain Freya, have you thought about what I mentioned last time?"

Now Lawrence asked. She smiled faintly and nodded.

"Not yet. Need a bit more time. Lots to figure out and prepare."

"Got it. No rush—take your time, and come visit the tower."

"Understood. I'll visit personally later for sure."

Freya decided to focus on the present. Plenty to uncover beyond Lawrence's offer.

Once she grasped the outlines of what she sought, she could decide on young master Lawrence's proposal.

He has so many mysterious abilities. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Too special for just a unique ability.

Her researcher's blood boiled a bit. She'd enjoy working purely with him, at least.

They celebrated the reunion after so long, and suddenly Loria blurted out,

"By the way, Lawrence, you didn't get ambushed or anything, right?"

"Uh— yeah, I did. Why?"

"Whew, we got hit out of nowhere. They retreated quick, though..."

"Bandits?"

Loria nodded, then tossed her hair back haughtily.

"Hmph, didn't tarnish the family honor, though."

"Good thing. They didn't call you a bunny or anything?"

"You wanna die for real!?"

"Haha, kidding, kidding. Glad you're safe."

Lawrence brushed it off lightly, but analyzed coldly in his head.

Why target just him and Loria? Knights might go berserk for morale and kill everyone, so no one dares. But...

Should ask the other towers discreetly.

If his hunch was right, Media had sent someone after him and Loria specifically. Like an assassin...

Need to be careful. Wish I could use Eckel right now.

With him, he'd try mental attacks via transformation magic. Not that he was scared anyway.

Lawrence had already faced a Night Crawler better than most assassins.

"Anyway, lots of interesting stuff here—."

He set that aside for now, scanning the barracks. Plenty of extracts around.

For example—

Stuff like that littered the place.

But Lawrence sought even more intriguing items. His main focus was magic, after all. He wanted to extract spells at 3rd Circle or higher.

I'm the youngest of a magic family. Magic family's youngest...

It felt like the genre was shifting from mage to magic swordsman, but Lawrence clung to his identity.

His edge was chantless magic bursts. Physical training was just a supplement.

That's when something caught his eye.

A decorative ceremonial sword in a fancy glass case.

"Oh—!"

Yeah, exactly this kind of thing.

A pleased smile spread across Lawrence's face. Even knight families had materials for magic manifestations like this occasionally, right?

Which meant...

I can sweep up stuff like this from Alzeras families too.

Heh heh—.

War spoils go to whoever grabs them first. Even if not, he'd make it so.

The main house could get quality materials if he wanted, but Media managed it. Snooping for gems or items would just invite scrutiny and suspicion.

Best not to dig deeper into his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠abilities. That was Lawrence's judgment.

Good thing Loria hasn't told anyone...

He was grateful for that. She hadn't forgotten riding the same boat with him...

Lawrence resolved to take as much as he could here.

"Clergy, gather here. Personnel check for purification and holy war."

"Right, Alzeras allied with undead, huh."

Undead, darkness-attribute users—best countered by light wielders. So a Holy Kingdom flag fluttered in one corner of the barracks.

They couldn't miss this.

And surprisingly, all kinds of magic here?

Lawrence spotted Holy Kingdom troops sorting junk. Probably march leftovers.

Trash to them, but reusable to him. He walked right up and greeted the paladins and priests.

"Greetings. May Seikria's grace be with you. I'm a mage from Iron Tower, bearer of the Montemer name."

"Ah, hello. What brings someone like you here...?"

"Mind if I take those items?"

Lawrence pointed at the discard pile.

The one sorting glanced ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at him, then the junk, and asked again.

"You want... this?"

"Yes."

A mad glint shone in the smiling Lawrence's eyes. Enough to make the staunchly faithful paladin flinch.

Lawrence asked once more.

"I'd like to take items bearing Seikria's trace."

"......"

Now it felt truly insane.