Lord: I can see loyalty.

Augustus, the capital of Rovia.

Several months later, the heart of this kingdom has finally been completely restored to its original state.

The streets were bustling with people, the shouts of vendors, the sound of horses' hooves and wheels rolling over the stone slabs, creating a lively scene of everyday life.

Shops that had been closed due to internal strife have now reopened and are even more prosperous than before. After all, the nobles and wealthy merchants in this area had been holding back for too long after the great upheaval in the capital, and now they were eager to make up for all the banquets, shopping trips, and social gatherings they had missed.

Pedestrians dressed in various colors arrived one after another, including local residents, merchants from other places, and also many knights-like figures with swords and armor.

Their gazes always held a scrutinizing quality as they examined the windows of the capital's renowned weapon shops or armor stores.

Vance, a member of the Brotherhood of the South, stood on the street corner and yawned lazily.

He wore a well-tailored light blue velvet coat with intricate gold thread embroidery on the collar and cuffs. A rapier, more decorative than practical, hung at his waist, its scabbard inlaid with several small but dazzling gemstones.

Behind him were two equally well-dressed young men, but who were clearly somewhat reserved.

He looked every bit the part of a country nobleman who had come to the capital to broaden his horizons.

"Young Master, where are we going next?" A henchman approached from behind.

Their voices were lowered just enough to be heard by passersby, and their accented voices perfectly matched their disguised identities.

Vance glanced at him and tapped his shoulder with the hilt of his sword: "What's the rush? We've come all this way to the capital, shouldn't we take a look around first? Look how lively the streets are, much better than our rural backyard."

As he spoke, his gaze casually swept over the shops and crowds on the street.

Following the civil unrest, the power structure in the capital underwent subtle changes.

Some of the older generation of nobles fell from power, while others suffered heavy losses, and a new generation was quietly rising.

These "minor nobles visiting from afar" are the least noticeable at this time of year—because every year at this time, countless people like them flock to the capital to attend the "Knights' Evening," which is said to offer a chance to rise to the top in one step.

That's right, the Knights' Party.

Unlike ordinary aristocratic banquets, the Knights' Party, as its name suggests, invites participants primarily from knightly families or families that have produced famous knights.

There were rumors that knights from all walks of life would exchange their experiences at this time, which was also one of the few opportunities for knightly swordsmanship and breathing techniques to be passed on.

Their trip was at the behest of fraternity leader Cohen.

Vance silently pondered the contents of Count Vio's letter.

Finding the secret to a knight's breakthrough... Rumors are one thing, reality is another. Would those noble families who truly possess the core secrets really easily reveal their most treasured possessions to outsiders?

"Let's go," Vance put down his sword hilt, gestured with his chin to his two underlings behind him, "Let's pay a visit to Sir Rison first."

The so-called Sir Leeson is none other than Killian Leeson, who is also their partner in this collaboration.

The Brotherhood had built up a considerable network of connections during their time in the capital, and Ser Killian Leeson was one of them.

It is said that the other party was once a member of a large family in the capital, but later his father's lineage had problems and he gradually faded out of the family.

They are now essentially ordinary nobles with money but no power, but they have quite a reputation in the area. So far, their family has only produced one knight with a basic swordsmanship skill above the advanced level, and that is none other than Sir Killian Risson himself.

Sir Leeson was aware of the Brotherhood's existence and was cooperating with them this time, as his family needed knightly swordsmanship, breathing techniques, and other such things.

The three walked through the busiest main street and turned into a gradually quieter alley.

The streets are no longer lined with bustling shops; instead, they are lined with stone walls of varying heights, with occasional yellowing vines or branches of old trees peeking out from the tops.

The stone pavement underfoot had also changed. The smooth stone slabs of the main street, polished by countless horseshoes and wheels, had been replaced by larger, old stones with moss growing in the gaps.

This is deep within the old city of the capital, a place where someone of Sir Leeson's stature would reside.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, the surrounding mansions gradually thinned out, replaced by a small, somewhat desolate "noble woodland"...

It's called a woodland, but it's really just a few old trees that have been left untrimmed and have grown wildly, intertwining to form a sparse shady area. There's a small path paved with gravel that winds its way into the depths of the woods.

Following the directions he had received earlier, Vance walked along the path.

After passing through the sparse woods, the view suddenly opened up before us.

A mansion stood quietly at the end of the path, utterly serene.

The house was small, and its style was completely different from other buildings in the capital. The main body of the house was built with dark gray stone, which Vans recognized as "twilight limestone," a type of rock unique to the northern mountains, and known for its hardness.

The walls were unpainted, and the exposed stones, of varying sizes, were stacked very neatly, with white lime filling the gaps.

The mansion is in a typical old style, with a two-story main building covered with fish-scale-shaped stone slabs on the top, and a slightly shorter tower on each side.

Above the main gate is an old stone plaque with its emblems chiseled off, leaving only the feather reliefs on the edges still faintly discernible. The feathers are intricate and lifelike, revealing the craftsmanship of the original carvers.

The most striking feature was the windows.

Instead of the common square windows, they are Gothic style windows that taper to pointed arches at the top. This old style came from the Northern Empire and is no longer popular among the new nobles of the capital. Only the church still uses them.

The window frame was cast from black iron and forged into a pattern of intertwined feathers.

The house was surrounded by a stone wall as tall as a person, and the top of the wall was also covered with stone slabs.

Every few steps along the wall stands a square stone pillar, the top of which is carved with the shape of some kind of animal. However, the weathering is so severe that it is no longer possible to tell whether it is a lion or something else; only a blurry outline remains, crouching there.

The iron gate was ajar, and the door knocker still had two rings of feathers, reflecting the style of the old era. Through the fence, one could see the courtyard inside.

The house is not large, but it is very well maintained.

A stone-paved path leads directly from the main gate to the main building, with two small, neatly trimmed lawns on either side, planted with low-growing and unusual flowers and grasses.

The entire mansion was shrouded in silence. Occasionally, a breeze would rustle through the sparse woods, making the leaves whisper in the wind, which only made it seem as if this place was a completely different world from the bustling and noisy capital outside.

Vance stood in front of the door and took a deep breath of the air, which smelled of grass and trees.

"This is it," he said softly, then reached out and grasped one of the pair of feather door knockers.

Knock knock knock.

The sound of iron rings striking iron gates echoed in the quiet courtyard.