"Greetings, Grand Commander Caym Fairburne! Greetings Lieutenant Hector Tassis!" The knights thundered their greetings as Caym and Hector strode through the gate.
With a commanding gesture, Caym signaled the knights to resume their duties, their disciplined camaraderie resuming in an instant.
The training ground erupted with activity, a symphony of clashing swords, thudding footsteps, and twanging bowstrings.
In one corner, archers and crossbowmen practiced their precision, while nearby, swordsmen engaged in swift, precise duels.
Meanwhile, others engaged in rigorous physical training, their efforts evident in the rhythmic cadence of jogging, the strain of lifting weights, and the determined push-ups on the ground. The training ground pulsed with energy.
Becoming a part of the Grand Order is a cherished aspiration for countless aspiring knights, a dream that extends beyond the boundaries of social class and gender.
This prestigious institution not only welcomes commoners, but also embraces both worthy men and women, providing them with a unique opportunity to fulfill their noble calling.
Upon ascending the ranks and achieving the esteemed status of Protector Knights, members are granted the privilege of their own living quarters within the barracks, inside the Imperial Palace itself.
While they have the option to reside elsewhere, many choose to remain within the Order's confines, especially those who are unmarried. This choice stems from a desire to further their training and enhance their skills continuously.
For these dedicated individuals, each accomplishment is met with generous rewards, bestowing not only personal glory but also immense honor upon their families.
The Emperor himself openly supports the Grand Order, ensuring that any member who achieves remarkable feats is duly recognized.
Such recognition can manifest in various forms, whether it be the granting of a noble title or the opportunity to marry into a noble family.
Thanks to this unwavering imperial endorsement, members of the Grand Order enjoy not only the fruits of their labor but also the unquestionable respect and admiration of the society they serve.
Within the Grand Order, the knights' dormitory occupies the left wing of the complex. Each knight is allocated their own private quarters, complete with a personal bathroom, ensuring both privacy and comfort.
Furthermore, the Order generously provides its members with complimentary meals and clothing. A spacious dining hall on the ground floor offers knights the flexibility to dine at their convenience, while a weekly service allows them to request the laundering of their clothes by diligent attendants.
In a separate building positioned in front of the dormitory lies the infirmary, a crucial facility for the care and well-being of knights.
Next, the right wing of the complex is dedicated to the hierarchy and operational aspects of the Grand Order. Here, one finds the chambers of the Grand Commander, the Knight Lieutenant, and the Guardian Knights.
The Grand Commander presides over a well-appointed office situated adjacent to the expansive meeting hall, a space where important decisions and discussions take place.
Additionally, this wing is home to the inventory, housing an extensive collection of weapons and equipment vital to the Order's mission.
Adjacent to the inventory lies the entrance to the dungeon, an area that undoubtedly holds its own significance within the structure.
"Greetings, Grand Commander," Ivan greeted respectfully as they arrived at the entrance to the dungeon. Caym acknowledged the greeting with a nod before he continued walking. Ivan turned to the guard stationed at the entrance and issued a firm command, "Do not let anybody in."
As they ventured deeper into the dungeon's labyrinthine passages, Caym finally broke the silence, his voice echoing in the long, dimly lit hallway. Each step resonated in the narrow space.
"Did you find anything?" Caym inquired.
"We found no similar brushes as the Count. However, we discovered a rather intriguing item," Ivan replied, handing him a delicately embroidered handkerchief.
Caym's keen eyes quickly recognized the intricate symbols adorning the fabric.
"We believe this is another Logarian message," Ivan stated, concern etched on his face. "I am afraid to say that you might be right, Commander. This man is not the messenger but rather a receiver himself."
Caym's frustration grew evident as he clenched his jaw. It became increasingly clear that Count Braille and the merchant were merely puppets in the hands of a more cunning mastermind.
Approaching an imposing iron door, they were met by two knights who stood guard. Without hesitation, the knights swung the door open, revealing what lay beyond.
"Greetings, Commander Fairburne," the knights chimed in unison. Their words were cut off abruptly as Hector, visibly exasperated, interrupted them.
"Sigh. Are you new here? Next time, try not to announce the Commander's arrival," Hector remarked, gently tapping the knights on their shoulders. Ivan, too, added his silent reproach, a stern reminder for the guards to exercise more caution.
Hector's frustration deepened as the prisoners' cries filled the air. The dungeon resounded with shouts, pleas, and curses directed at Commander Fairburne, who maintained a stoic composure in the face of the chaos.
"I curse you, Caym Fairburne!" a skinny man's voice pierced the air, his words laden with bitterness. "A Faraday will never forget!"
"Fairburne, you ungrateful brat! You will die in regret!" an old man's voice quivered with anger and grief.
"Bring me back my sons! My dear sons! You murderer!" cried an elderly woman, her voice breaking with sorrow.
"Commander! Commander Fairburne!" the desperate cries continued unabated.
The knights, realizing their grave error, attempted to restore order. "Shut your mouths or you'll get no food tonight!" one of them barked, attempting to silence the prisoners, but their attempts were futile against the tide of emotions.
"There they go again," Hector said, his voice heavy with resignation.
Caym noticed a knight reaching for a whip on the wall. "Do not bother," he said, his gaze sweeping over the prison cells. "Let them scream themselves to death."
As if a bucket of freezing water had been thrown on them, the prisoners shivered. It was the first time they had heard Caym speak to them in the dungeon.
The prisoners exchanged fearful glances.