Chapter 3: Advanced Great Knight!

The crowd began to disperse; though everyone’s emotions differed, one thing was uniform.

Envy, jealousy, and resentment toward Gervas vanished, replaced only by schadenfreude.

Gervas, unfazed, arrived at the carriage parking area, but immediately frowned.

As expected, his half-brother, the so-called “good younger brother,” had not returned on time after his trip to Saint Peter City.

This meant he had to wait right where he was; otherwise, Saint Peter City was over fifty li from the Gail Domain, and walking would likely take him until noon tomorrow.

“What’s wrong, Lord Gervas?”

At that moment, a voice came from behind.

He turned to see it was again Magistrate Poli.

Now that he held a title, he no longer needed to fear him; Gervas spoke sharply, “Magistrate Poli, is there something else? Or do you have another unsolvable problem you want me to handle?”

Poli was momentarily speechless, but this old fox cared nothing for face.

He had come this time to reconcile with Gervas.

A younger son of a minor noble meant nothing, but a baron was truly not worth enraging or making an enemy of.

“Lord Gervas, you jest. I did offend you before, but it was unavoidable!”

“And now, I’ve come expressly to apologize!”

Behind Poli stood a horse, laden with weapons and armor: a longsword, a lance, leather armor, and a shield.

The horse was not a true warhorse, but still worth several gold coins.

The leather armor and longsword were brand new; the shield and lance together cost several gold coins.

“Lord Gervas, you’re a lord now—you surely need a mount and equipment. This is my apology!”

Since Poli had come voluntarily to offer gifts, how could Gervas refuse?

Moreover, accepting these gifts filled him with perfect peace of mind.

With a mount, Gervas no longer had to worry about mobility.

After exchanging a few polite words with Poli, he prepared to take his leave—but just before departing, Gervas suddenly remembered something.

“Magistrate Poli, since I’ve accepted your gift, let me tell you something: just now, on my seat, I overheard a few younger sons of nobles talking.”

“They said your wife often visits Viscount Cato’s estate—and just now, I thought I saw her heading in that direction…”

With that, Gervas spurred his horse straight toward the gates of Saint Peter City, leaving Magistrate Poli frozen in place.

…

“Three hundred meters south of Kent Street, inside that big tree—this must be it?”

In the southern district of Saint Peter City, Gervas headed straight here after entering.

Though now a noble, ten gold coins were still a substantial sum—he wouldn’t let this slip away.

The target tree stood beside a well, a crooked, gnarled tree.

Gervas circled it and indeed found a hollow in the trunk.

But the opening was too small for his hand to fit through.

Yet this didn’t stop Gervas.

Before, he would have found a way to retrieve it at midnight.

But now, with his noble status, he simply took the longsword from his saddle and began hacking and chopping at the hollow’s edge—CRASH! CRASH!—widening it.

Many commoners watched from a distance, but none dared approach to stop or question him.

After all, the horse and longsword proved Gervas’s unique status.

In moments, the hollow had widened several centimeters; Gervas stopped and reached inside.

He immediately felt a soft linen sack.

He pulled out the linen bag and slowly unwrapped it—ten gleaming gold coins came into view.

“Got it!”

He quickly rewrapped the coins and shoved them into his coat, then mounted his horse and rode away with flair.

He didn’t linger in Saint Peter City; he wanted to return home before that “good younger brother,” so he could handle many matters first.

…

Without stopping, he galloped thirty li straight through, arriving at Maple Town as dusk fell.

Gervas decided to rest and spend the night there.

Of course, the more important reason was that nearby, in the maple forest, grew a Red Spirit Fruit tree.

After swallowing two mouthfuls of dried rations, Gervas slipped into the maple forest under cover of darkness.

He chose nightfall precisely because Red Spirit Fruit was a magical herb—emitting faint light at night.

Thus, it was far easier to find than in daylight.

Of course, such activities were fine only in human-inhabited areas—never deep mountains or wild forests, or you’d become prey for beasts before you even found the fruit.

“Found it! I never expected a precious Red Spirit Fruit to grow in a maple forest like this!”

After searching the forest for about half an hour, Gervas located the Red Spirit Fruit.

Holding the faintly glowing red fruit in his palm, his heart pounded.

This was the supernatural power—the aura—that every noble possessed.

But as a younger son, Gervas, though he practiced his family’s aura-breathing technique, lacked sufficient resources and time; even now, he remained a mere common knight, unable to reach Great Knight status.

Unlike his elder brother, the family’s heir, who, thanks to the family’s full investment, had condensed his aura seed at fifteen and become a titled knight.

In this world, knights were divided into two types: ordinary knights, composed of commoners, and divided into Knight Squires, Knights, and Great Knights!

Above ordinary knights stood those who wielded supernatural power—knights who possessed aura, collectively called Titled Knights, with specific ranks: Bronze Knight, Silver Knight, Gold Knight, and Earth Knight.

Though Gervas could eventually become a Titled Knight through persistent training and physical strengthening, if he waited until his twenties or thirties, it would be too late.

Returning to the edge of the forest with the Red Spirit Fruit, Gervas immediately ate it.

The fruit dissolved instantly, turning into a warm stream that surged through his entire body.

The bliss made Gervas moan repeatedly.

Through inner observation, his body and meridians were both strengthening.

Without delay, Gervas steadied his mind and began practicing his family’s breathing technique.

Practicing now would fully prevent the Red Spirit Fruit’s potency from leaking away.

Until dawn the next day, Gervas rose.

With a hum, a faint red glow flashed across his palm; he gripped his sword hilt and slashed forward sharply.

CRACK! A maple tree the width of a bowl split cleanly in two.

The cut was smooth, clean, without a single ragged edge.

“This effect is incredible! I’ve become a Great Knight! Ha!”

Gervas laughed aloud—the Red Spirit Fruit had greatly strengthened his body and meridians.

In his previously nonexistent aura, he now saw signs of condensation.

Though he could currently sustain this aura release for only two or three seconds.

Just one strike.

But this was already a massive advancement.

It equaled one or two years of training, instantly elevating him to Great Knight strength.

More importantly, with his meridians strengthened, his once-slow aura absorption—like a dry irrigation ditch—now flowed like a gentle stream.

At this pace, his aura seed would fully condense in no time.

That night, the villagers of Maple Town slept uneasily, for strange, chilling laughter echoed from beyond the town.

When the magistrate arrived the next day with soldiers to search the area, he found nothing.

From then on, a legend spread through Maple Town: that a ghost wailed in the darkness beyond the town.