Lord: I can see loyalty.

Sir Leeson changed the subject, leaned back slightly, and settled into the soft back of his armchair.

"However, none of these things will happen now." His tone returned to its previous calm. "My father left a message before he died: if there will be problems tomorrow, then today will be the answer."

He looked at Vance, his eyes becoming more sincere.

"I believe we can work together happily, Mr. Gilbert."

Vance nodded, his gaze inadvertently sweeping across the window, where he paused slightly in surprise.

Outside the window, the sun, which had been high in the sky, had disappeared.

Instead, layers upon layers of gray clouds slowly pressed in from the distant horizon, so low they seemed to reach the treetops of the old trees, their edges swirling, exuding a sense of impending storm.

"It's going to pour," Vance murmured.

Sir Leeson followed his gaze to the window, his brow furrowing slightly before he stood up.

"Looks like today isn't a good day to go out." He walked to the window, opened it a crack, and a cool breeze carrying a damp smell immediately rushed in. "This rain is heavy; it'll probably rain all night."

He turned to look at Vance, his tone warm and welcoming, like a true host.

"Mr. Gilbert, why don't you stay here? There's still a long time before the Knights' Gathering. In the meantime, I can show you around the capital and help you make some useful connections."

He paused, a deeper meaning appearing in his eyes.

"After all, your Earl... may not need the capital's connections right now, but soon he will."

Vance pondered for a moment, looked at the increasingly dark sky outside the window, and then at his two brothers beside him.

"Then I'll trouble you." Vance stood up and bowed.

Sir Leeson smiled slightly and turned to the handsome young man who had been standing in the shadows by the wall.

"Eli, arrange rooms for Mr. Gilbert and these two brothers, and remember to light the fireplace."

The young man called "Eli" bowed slightly, his movements gentle. "Yes, Sir."

He walked up to Vance, still with that composed demeanor, and gestured for him to enter.

"Mr. Gilbert, please come with me."

Vance and his two companions followed Eli out of the study, through the corridor, and up to the second floor, where they heard the study door gently close behind them.

The guest rooms are in the west wing; they are small but clean and tidy.

The fireplaces in each room had been lit in advance, and the orange-red flames filled the room with warmth. The beds were covered with snow-white, starched sheets.

"If you need anything, feel free to ask me," Eli said softly, standing in the hallway. "I'll invite you all to dinner."

Vance nodded, watching the slender figure disappear silently around the corner of the stairs.

Outside the window, the first drop of rain fell.

Then came the second drop, then the third, which quickly merged into a dense curtain of rain, eventually forming a loud, rushing sound.

Thunder rumbled across the sky, making everyone feel uneasy.

Vance stood by the window, watching the rain stream down the glass, blurring the outline of the sparse woodland outside.

A torrential downpour lasted all night.

The next morning.

The rain finally stopped, the sky returned to normal, and the air was filled with the unique dampness and freshness after the rain.

When Vance and his two companions finished washing up and came downstairs, Sir Leeson was already waiting for them in the study.

He changed into his outdoor attire: a dark blue belted coat over a short cloak of the same color, with a longsword at his waist that served both decorative and practical purposes.

He didn't look like a nobleman; he looked more like a warrior.

Eli was still wearing the same dark gray coat as yesterday, standing quietly behind him.

"Have you all rested well?" Sir Leeson asked with a smile.

"Thanks to the gentleman," Vance nodded.

"Let's go then." Sir Leeson stood up. "Today I'll show you around the capital. Although it has suffered greatly, it is still magnificent."

The group left the mansion, walked through the sparse woodland, and followed the gravel path they had come from deep into the old town.

Sir John Leeson is indeed a competent guide.

He led Vance and the other two through quiet alleyways, sometimes pointing to a mansion and saying, "That's the villa of a certain count," and sometimes pointing to a corner and saying, "Go through here, and you'll find the largest weapons workshop in the capital."

He introduced the city in a calm and unhurried manner, neither overly enthusiastic nor perfunctory, giving Vance and the others a clearer understanding of the capital's layout.

Around noon, they arrived at a relatively open area.

The buildings here are noticeably more imposing than those we've passed through before, the streets are wider, and the proportion of pedestrians carrying swords and armor is significantly higher.

Clearly, the people who come here are not of low status.

"There are a few nice taverns ahead," Sir Leeson pointed ahead. "Let's find a place to have lunch first. This afternoon I'll take you to meet someone who has far more connections in the capital than I do; he might be able to help."

Vance nodded, about to say something, when a commotion suddenly arose behind him!

"You fucking bastard—!"

It was the voice of Sloan, the fraternity member who had always been by his side!

Vance whirled around and saw Sloan standing a dozen steps behind them, his face flushed, fists clenched, ready for battle. In front of him stood a tall, imposing figure.

It was a knight wearing full plate armor.

The armor was of standard design, polished to a shine, with intricate patterns engraved on the shoulder and breastplates, yet it was difficult to discern which family it belonged to.

He tucked the helmet under his arm, revealing a rugged face with thick eyebrows, large eyes, a high nose, and thin lips, which was now grinning coldly.

He was extremely tall, a good half a head taller than Sloan, and stood there like a moving iron wall.

Behind him followed four young men, also dressed in armor but clearly of lower rank, presumably his squires.

The group had already blocked half of Sloan's escape route.

Vance's heart tightened, and he hurried over. Sir Leeson and another brother followed closely behind.

"What's going on?" Vance asked in a low voice.

Sloan gritted his teeth, his voice almost forced out: "Weren't we just walking and discussing where to eat? This bastard suddenly swaggered over from the other side and deliberately bumped into me."

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently.

"I didn't want to cause trouble, so I ignored him and kept walking. But then he... he actually turned around and accused me of blocking his way and not giving him permission to pass!"

Upon hearing these words, the tall knight's sneer deepened. He sized up Sloan, then glanced at Vance, Lison, and the others who had arrived, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem?"

His voice was rough and hoarse, carrying a condescending arrogance.

"I am a knight! A nobleman, a knight! And what are you?"

His gaze swept over Vance and his group again, from head to toe, and then he sneered.

"A group of commoners? Or perhaps someone's servants have come out for a meal?"

"Hahahahaha!"

The knights and squires around him burst into laughter.

Sloan's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and another Brotherhood member next to Vance gritted his teeth, his hand unconsciously reaching for the weapon hidden at his waist.

Vance frowned.

It wasn't because of anger, it was because of... oddity.

He was all too familiar with the demeanor of these aristocratic knights.

Before Count Vio was established in the Southern Territory, those self-important knights looked at commoners with the exact same gaze as this guy before them.

But it was precisely because he was familiar with it that he felt something was wrong.

He had spent so much time with Count Vio and Jimmy that he had almost forgotten what kind of people the knights outside were like.

This one in front of me is just too...

"Don't be impulsive." A very soft voice rang in his ear; it was Sir Leeson.

He had somehow moved closer to Vance, his lips barely moving, his eyes rapidly scanning the surroundings.

His expression was very focused; he didn't seem to be watching the spectacle, but rather searching for something.

"It's not that simple." His voice was extremely low. "Look at that man, he looks tall and imposing, but..."

He paused, his gaze falling on the knight's sword-wielding posture.

"He doesn't look like a swordsman at all."

Vance's heart skipped a beat, and he followed his gaze.

The knight remained standing there, arms crossed, with an arrogant posture.

But upon closer inspection, his posture is loose and slouching, his center of gravity is off, and his shoulders are not on the same level. Anyone who has practiced martial arts even a little would not stand like that.

The four attendants behind him stood ramrod straight, but their posture was more like that of a soldier standing at attention than a knight poised to charge.

"I can't see much in that regard," Vance nodded, "after all, I'm only at the beginner level of basic swordsmanship, but one thing I'm sure of..."

His gaze swept across the surrounding streets, alleyways, and second-floor windows.

"This is the capital, not some remote town. Would any knight really be foolish enough to cause trouble for civilians in a place like this for no reason?"

Before the two could think further, the tall knight's gaze suddenly fell on Sloan's waist, where a bulge was faintly visible under the hem of his robe—the concealed weapon.

The knight's eyes lit up.

"Hmm?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth widening into a more sinister smile. "Weapons?"

He stepped forward and looked down at Sloan.

"What, you want to duel me?"

Sloan clenched his teeth even tighter, veins bulged on his forehead, and his whole body trembled slightly, but he still suppressed his anger and did not move.

"Heh." The knight chuckled and took a half step back. "But I don't think you dare."

Just as Sloan's anger was about to erupt, the voice behind him rang out again.

"I'll do it."

The voice was calm and clear, without a trace of fear.

Everyone was stunned.

Sir Leeson stepped out from beside Vance and walked step by step to the tall knight.

He was also half a head shorter than the knight, thinner, and even looked somewhat frail standing there.

But he raised his head, his beautiful eyes looking directly at the other person, and there was even a faint smile on his lips.

"I challenge you to a duel."