The soft morning light streamed in from the window, casting a gentle golden hue on Arkhan's face.
He furrowed his brow slightly, opened his eyes, stretched, and let out a big yawn. He gazed out at the garden through the window, a smile creeping onto his face.
"Another beautiful day..." He mumbled to himself.
Arkhan skillfully tidied up his bed, went through a quick morning routine, then picked up the feather pen and notebook from the desk and headed outside.
It had been almost half a year since he arrived in Tintagel, at the invitation of Artoria, who was currently hosting him at her foster father Ector's house.
He had distributed the bodies of those wyverns to the families of the fallen knights. Even though wyverns were just subspecies of dragons, they still held great value. Their scales could be fashioned into armor, claws could be used for weapons, and their diluted blood mixed with herbs could be turned into healing potions, beneficial for both children and strengthening the body.
It was no wonder they said dragon-slaying was a profitable business; even without finding the treasures dragons might guard, the dragons themselves were enormous treasures.
Most of those knights were the mainstays of their families, with elderly parents and young children to support. In this low-productivity era, a family without adult men would quickly fall apart, meeting a bleak fate.
However, with this money, Arkhan hoped to help them get through these difficult times.
But in doing so, Arkhan had turned himself into a complete pauper.
He had wanted to continue hunting wyverns, but it seemed that either those wyverns had sent some kind of signal before dying, or there were traces left at the scene.
In any case, within a hundred miles of Tintagel, one couldn't find a single dragon species, not to mention even wild boars.
Fortunately, with his skills in arithmetic and literacy, he now worked as a teacher and mentor in Ector's family, earning a decent monthly income.
As he entered the dining room, Artoria, dressed in a simple gown, was having her breakfast. A young man of similar age to Arkhan sat beside her, struggling with a knife and fork as he chewed on a piece of meat.
"Teacher." Artoria stood up and greeted Arkhan politely with a nod.
She was Arkhan's student now, and she felt obliged to show him respect.
Arkhan nodded with a smile, then glanced at the young man next to her. He cleared his throat softly, "Ahem, ahem..."
The young man's face twitched slightly, and he reluctantly stood up, muttering, "Teacher..."
"Didn't hear you..." Arkhan said lightly.
The young man's voice raised a notch, "Teacher!"
"Kay, for a grown man, why is your voice softer than Lily's? Are you turning into a sissy?" Arkhan teased.
Kay's expression turned stiff for a moment. These days, there were few words that irritated him more than 'sissy'.
Half a year ago, he didn't even understand the meaning of the term, but after Arkhan explained it to him, he swore that he would fight anyone who used that word on him, except Arkhan of course.
The only reason he exempted Arkhan was because he realized he stood no chance in a fight against him.
Kay clenched his fist, his neck turned a shade of red, and with all his might, he shouted, "Teacheeer!!!"
The entire house seemed to tremble for a moment, dust and wood chips falling from the ceiling. Artoria's eyes flickered, and she emanated a surge of magical energy around her food and herself, clearing away all the dust and debris.
She elegantly picked up her bowl and continued sipping her porridge.
"Well done, Kay. Knights need to show a strong presence when facing enemies. Shouting like that every morning when you wake up will be beneficial for building your momentum." Arkhan nodded in approval, taking a seat and starting his own breakfast.
Kay's face turned somewhat rigid. If he had to do this every day, his voice would be gone in no time.
But Arkhan said it was helpful for building momentum.
After some hesitation, Kay's expression gradually hardened.
Arkhan almost burst out laughing.
Kay was Ector's son, Artoria's foster brother, and the future third seat at the Round Table. But for now, he was nothing more than a rebellious troublemaker.
From the day Arkhan arrived at the estate, this guy had been a handful. Fortunately, after a good scolding, he finally settled down a bit.
It just went to show the old saying was right—"What do you do when a child misbehaves? Most likely, they're just testing the limits, and a good scolding does the trick."
At his core, Kay wasn't a bad person. He had a strong sense of justice and dreamt of becoming a powerful knight. And because of that, Arkhan practically had him wrapped around his little finger.
Kay sat down and lightly nudged Artoria with his elbow.
Artoria turned her head, her azure eyes unimpressed. "What are you doing? I'm still eating my porridge."
Kay tried to signal desperately and said in a hushed voice.
"Say it now, while you can!"
"Say what?"
"Have you forgotten what we discussed yesterday!?"
"There's nothing more important than eating!" Artoria retorted.
Kay was on the brink of frustration. His sister was impeccable in every way—strong, composed, level-headed, and wise. But when it came to food, she transformed into someone else entirely!
No, she didn't just change as a person; she shifted species, becoming nothing less than a lioness guarding her food.
Arkhan watched their antics and shook his head. "Kay, hiding behind a girl isn't the chivalrous way."
Setting aside her empty bowl, Artoria spoke earnestly, "Teacher, even though I am a girl, I am still a knight. Please do not underestimate me. And besides, if it came to a real fight, Kay wouldn't be my equal."
Arkhan smiled and shook his head again. "Lily, do you know what it takes to be called strong?"
"Someone with great strength!" Artoria answered without hesitation.
"Wrong."
Both Artoria and Kay blinked in surprise.
"The strength you possess is always relative. An elephant is stronger than an ant, like how you are stronger than Kay. But does that make you a strong one? No, it's oppression and tyranny, using strength to force others into submission. Such people will never earn respect because there will always be someone stronger than them."
As he swallowed the last piece of bread, Arkhan continued:
"A truly strong one possesses an exceptionally strong heart. When faced with difficulties, they do not retreat; when confronted by enemies, they show no fear. They remain humble, hold compassion for the weak, stand firm in their beliefs, know their goals, and work tirelessly to achieve them. They never give up hope, even in the most hopeless situations. That, my students, is what you call strong."
Arkhan stood up and lightly tapped both of their heads with the back of his knife.
"You two still have a long way to go before you become truly strong."