The sky outside the window was completely shrouded by dark clouds, with intermittent rumbles of thunder sounding like warnings, urging pedestrians on the street to quickly find shelter from the rain.
In the tavern, Count Evan regarded the eager look in his sister's eyes and casually replied:
"The solution is—you should step into the Holy Field immediately!"
"Humph!" Anna's eyebrows shot up, she glared at her older brother.
She was clearly aware that she had been tricked.
"I'm only a fourth-rank knight, I'm still a long way from the Holy Field!"
"Not long at all!" declared Count Evan, "Only nineteen and already a fourth-rank knight. Hehe, among this generation of St. Prowse, you are definitely the person most likely to become a Holy Knight."
"But that's just a likelihood.
