I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

“I’m sorry I didn’t get your permission beforehand.” Gerald walked over to Himer at this moment and spoke quietly with the guardian. “The child was just about to come into the office, so I chatted with her first and played with her for a while in the lounge next door.”

Before Hamer could say anything, Gerald continued, "May I ask you a question, Dr. Hamer?"

"Does that child often experience auditory hallucinations?"

……

For Gerald, putting aside Ifrit's identity, this experience of adding another member to his Sarkaz encyclopedia has happened countless times in the past few days.

Rhodes Island is truly a place where hidden talents abound; there are three Blood Demons alone... cough, two.

Is the fire on Ifrit's body very strong? Not entirely. Although he believes this child may reach a fairly good elite level in the future, perhaps even higher, for now, he only needs to place a wisp of wind on her to easily dissipate all her Originium Arts, including those unintentionally leaked flames.

But the root of the problem lies elsewhere.

The real fire resides within Ifrit's heart.

That soul flame, unique to the Balrog, is an untouchable forbidden zone.

The Flame Demon, who had returned to the souls of the masses, still lingers in the world with fragments of his soul, which is similar to the state of the Blood Demon Lord in this respect.

This superfluous soul within her body will not be as kind and approachable as her ever-present grandfather to Ifrit; instead, it will become a super-powerful engine, causing Ifrit's already fragile vessel to explode.

Once that part of the soul is extracted, and the remaining power and bloodline are allowed to heal on their own, Ifrit's problem can be solved once and for all.

But how do we solve problems at the level of the soul?

In the ancient historical records kept by the Banshees, besides the "White-Horned Demon King" Quesatushta, it seems that only the Banshee Royal Court could attempt to get involved through hints and modifications. However, since Kal'tsit still couldn't solve Ifrit's problem even knowing Aphrodite's existence, it shows that this approach is not feasible.

I need to think about how to swallow this Balrog.

Gerald silently noted down the idea.

--------

The reunion lasted a long time.

After removing the less pleasant parts, Saria's dangerous experiences were the best adventure book. The gift, which was originally wrapped in layers of packaging, failed to catch Ifrit's eye at this moment, even though she had fallen asleep more than once with a long legendary story book similar to that gift in her arms.

Perhaps for children, simply being able to see their loved ones again is the best gift.

So much so that when young Sarkaz faced parting again, he still felt a little reluctant to leave... as well as a growing courage and determination in his eyes.

As for Gerald—

"Boss!" Ifrit looked at Pegasus with considerable admiration. "Could you teach me some new techniques? I want to show them to my other friends later!"

He didn't actually want to hear that title.

Especially considering what he was about to do, and the almost murderous look in the eyes of the guardian next to him.

……

Ultimately, time inevitably moved forward, and the lingering feeling of the reunion gradually subsided as Himer gently closed the medical record folder.

Seria and Gerald walked out of the medical department side by side, the door closing gently behind them, cutting off the faint sounds of the children still audible behind them.

The corridor was still bustling with people, and busy medical staff were coming and going. However, Saria's steps were particularly firm, without the slightest pause, and she walked straight in a certain direction.

Gerald silently followed beside her, and he quickly realized the final destination of this direction—a familiar road, a familiar corner, and they finally stopped near the operatives' dormitory.

“Clearly,” Gerald said, glancing at the doorplate beside him, his words merely a casual remark about what had just happened, “you did very well. You remain the steadfast guardian, having achieved a temporary reconciliation with your former colleagues and reunited with the children you care about.”

"Ah."

But this time, Saria did not show Gerald a vulnerable side as she had before.

Instead, she simply unlocked her room door and took out the luggage that had been placed by the door.

"Have you found any new evidence?" Seeing her actions, Gerald was certain of his earlier suspicions. He calmly looked at Vayvan in front of him: "Have you brought all your things?"

"Everything is ready."

"The evidence... is indeed true. I can also begin investigating some loose ends that the head of the structural engineering department hasn't had time to settle yet. I believe we'll have results soon."

Saria pulled the hat back onto her head, just as she had when she first arrived at Rhodes Island, tucking her long silver hair and horns under the hat, and using the lower half of her trench coat to cover her tail: "Hime is an excellent partner, and her ability to gather information is remarkable, even to places I haven't paid attention to before. Much of the intelligence she provides is extremely useful."

He pulled his luggage over and walked to Gerald's side.

After much hesitation, she finally lowered her hand that was about to reach out and walked toward the ship's exit.

Gerald rode alongside her, saying, "I'll take you."

"……it is good."

Vayvan seemed to have returned to her usual serious demeanor. She didn't say much on her way out, but slowed her pace and occasionally glanced out the ship's window, trying to make time slow down a little.

Even if she's reluctant, when faced with things she should accomplish, Saria will still temporarily set aside the warmth beside her.

"Just send it to the front."

Saria finally stopped and stood on the metal walkway at the ship's exit, looking back at Gerald.

Outside the bridge stretched the Tremont to the horizon, still far from noon, with the faint glow of dawn visible on the distant horizon. The soft light fell on her trench coat, accompanied by the rustling wind that seemed to play a farewell tune.

But she didn't really need a farewell. Although the time they'd spent together and gotten to know each other over the past few months made the moment of parting somewhat special, she had never liked saying goodbye, just like when she parted with Ifrit and Himer. Only admonitions and exhortations would have some meaning at such times, and as for further rewards, they should naturally be clearly defined.

“Remember to review what you learned on Rhodes Island for a while,” Saria said after a moment of silence. “Although you have a lot of practical experience, it is still your experience as a military doctor. You can discuss it with Himer; she is a role model worth learning from.”

"Also, be careful on your way to Kazimierz." She slightly turned her gaze away and continued to instruct, "...Don't go too far. If you encounter any trouble, remember you can contact me anytime."

As if afraid of missing something, her tone became more and more serious, and she rambled on and on about all possible instructions until she herself felt that they were a bit superfluous before finally stopping.

Then she stood there quietly, her gaze fixed on Gerald, waiting for his response.

Gerald then walked over to her and gave her a tight hug.

When Tianma's arm wrapped around her shoulder, she only slightly widened her eyes before silently letting herself sink into this brief moment of warmth.

Tianma lowered his head slightly, looking into her somewhat bewildered eyes, and said softly:

"You still owe me a meal, Saria. When it's time to settle the rewards, I'll be waiting for you to settle that part together."

Vayvan paused for a moment, then simply nodded slightly without saying anything.

Gerald then took a step back, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, before raising his hand and waving gently:

May the wind bless your future.

"Have a safe journey, Saria."

A letter sent to Kazimir at the end of the book

Dear Uncle, Marna Nearl:

I believe this letter, written after so many years, will surprise you, because under normal circumstances, I should still be serving my sentence at Mansfield Prison, and you have not received any news from me in the past two years.

Although, if you ever think about visiting that "Dread Martin" studio, you'll soon realize that I haven't been completely out of touch all these years, at least not for Maria.

But I know you won't.

Just as you have never sent me a letter all these years, you certainly haven't told Maria where I am either.

But I at least hope you still remember the scars you left on me, and those wicked smiles you gave when you bullied children with your wooden sword—after all, when I saw you two years ago, you were still so listless. Reminiscing about the past would be a relief for you now.

Of course, it's also possible that a gentle lady will help you escape that kind of life, pull you out of the mire, and start a new chapter.

If that's the case, I think I'd be happy for you, because you're really living like a pile of dog shit right now (in a positive sense, although I don't know how this is related to a positive sense, but just take it as me praising you, after all, I understand that if you didn't do this, things would be much worse than they are now).

Oh, and by the way, I have to share my current life with you. After all, with this comparison, maybe you'll change your mind a bit?

If you feel like you can't continue reading, just flip to the second half of the page; I'll probably spend a lot of time on that part.

Life in prison is normal, with three meals a day. Our Grandmaster probably gave the prison a lot of benefits, perhaps some kind of promise, but we don't need to worry about that now, since the warden is dead and promises will soon disappear.

I have two good friends. One is a young master who often tells me stories about his travels; he's been to many places and is a very nice person. Of all the places he's mentioned, I've always been interested in the Twin Queen Towers of Letania. If you have the chance, you should go and see them.

The other one is a very promising girl; sometimes she reminds me of you… Both of you have the right to choose, but are trapped in prison due to various reasons and your own inner thoughts. Of course, you and she are completely different, both in personality and other aspects.

Later I met someone I could trust, someone I could even entrust my life to.

She is a teacher, a friend, or even a partner. I don't want to elaborate on this, because no matter how I describe her, it's easier to explain than if you've met her in person.

In addition, I have a wife and a child.

I know what you think about those two sentences, and I think it would be better if I explained them to you in person.

As for now, I can only say that some rather magical things have happened to me, perhaps like the story of Odysseus that I once told you in my spare time—encountering storms, Cyclopes, banshees, and even being taken in by a goddess on an island.

Life is always more amazing than we imagine; a wife, partner, and children can seem to coexist... This is something I couldn't have imagined before.

And, although it is regrettable, I cannot bring my wife and children back. After all, I heard from them that there are some disliked clones in Kazimierz. If they were to personally intervene, it would cause a series of problems, and it was not my wish to involve them.

Moreover, my wife has other duties, and at the time of writing this letter, she has already returned to her hometown. But once things are over, I think we will be able to walk freely together on the streets of the Great Knight's Domain.

Okay, that concludes the section on interpersonal relationships and experiences.

……

just now.

I want to tell you something from the heart; I think it's necessary.

Regarding why I came back, I'd like to ask you a few questions, Uncle.

What is it that your heart yearns for? And what vision are you enduring by remaining inactive?

Ultimately, I think it's about wanting Kazimierz to get better, but not knowing how to do it.

So I want to apologize to you about this, because I may soon do something rather reckless.

What I'm about to say isn't very good, especially since I was once a nobleman, and you were once a nobleman too... oh yes, you still are.

I think that this class should have been wiped out a long time ago.

Because I realized something when I stepped onto the battlefield.

The so-called glory of chivalry, in most cases, must be presented to the world through war. In times of peace, this glory is hidden behind a veil, unknown to the world. Yet, within the glory of chivalry, the common people are always protected in war and ruled outside of war.

Have you noticed? Commoners are merely one of the spoils won by the nobles in war, which they can dispose of or discard at will when necessary.

Those who yearn for the return of the age of knights are merely seeking to regain their former glory, to be second only to a select few and above thousands.

From this perspective, we must thoroughly eliminate those outdated and outdated ideas and embrace the new era, rather than clinging to the shadows of the past.

Therefore, I will not fight for the title of nobleman. I will never be a nobleman again, nor will I ever be a knight again.

But I realized that I ultimately couldn't let go of my father's death.

He had some money, but he didn't enjoy it much; I joined the army, but was abandoned in the wilderness. From my own perspective, we didn't need to enjoy these so-called privileges, and once they were gone, they were gone... But he didn't die as a nobleman, but as a father.

So I need to get an explanation.

With an extremely selfish and self-centered mentality.

Demand answers from the National Assembly, the Control Yuan, the Federation of Commerce, and the Knights' Tournament, which you hate the most.

With the aristocracy gradually declining, the Supervisory Council itself could hardly afford the high operating costs of the army, which meant that the Supervisory Council would inevitably have to make concessions to the Commercial Federation. Meanwhile, the Commercial Federation's media outlets could influence the National Assembly's rulings through public opinion.

The Supervisory Council was able to rest easy under its protection, even to the point of being so weak that the Business Federation could ride roughshod over them; the National Assembly and puppets were synonymous; the Business Federation became the helmsman of the country.

Well, at least it's much better than those dregs of the past.

A hasty 180-degree turn in the system, launching unprecedented reforms, could drag the entire country into a trough. This is because all social resistance and reform are not achieved overnight; any short-term changes will be absorbed by the entire system and transformed into new life.

But this does not mean there are no solutions.

Since the Business Federation wants to control all of Kazimir, then I will seize their throat, cleanse them, and bring them under my control. Once I kill the corrupt elements within, take control of their mouthpiece, and seize everyone's lives like a tyrant, they will be forced to agree to one condition after another under pressure.

Since the supervisors are indulging in their safe haven, I will tear off that veil of shame, plunder what they depend on for survival, and let them live in fear. Then they will naturally understand what the common people whose lives are threatened are thinking.

Then I will wait.

We await the moment when those hidden contradictions can be revealed, allowing people who have been alienated to break free from the shackles imposed by capital.

Before that, I will handle any obstacles, disagreements, or confusion.

The wind will protect Kazimir.

……

Finally, I'd like to say a few other things.

*A note in the margin: This might be a bit long; I was a bit long-winded while writing this.*

From my perspective, Marna Linguang is a very respectable elder.