As Ethan was lost in thought, he suddenly sensed someone approaching. However, he felt no joy because it was an all-too-familiar face. Soon enough, Knight Andy peeked into the room, looking sneaky. Ethan saw his suspicious demeanor and smiled bitterly, motioning for him to come in. Honestly, Ethan couldn't understand why Andy was acting this way—this was practically his turf. Why not just walk in directly instead of making Ethan invite him?
Even with Ethan's invitation, Andy didn't step inside. Instead, he motioned for Ethan to come over. Resigned, Ethan stretched his limbs and walked to the door.
"So, Knight Andy, what's with the cloak-and-dagger routine?" Ethan asked with a hint of frustration.
Andy looked apologetic and whispered, "I'm really sorry, Knight Ethan. The steward told me not to come near here, so I didn't dare approach without permission. But I heard that the Duke might be delayed and won't be here until much later. I was worried you might be hungry, so I took a risk to bring you something to eat."
With that, Andy pulled a cloth bag from his coat, revealing two hard black loaves of bread and some jerky. Ethan's face darkened at the sight of the military rations.
"What's the meaning of this?" Ethan asked, his tone growing colder.
Andy's face fell further as he handed over the bag. "I couldn't get into the kitchen, so I brought my own rations. Knight Ethan, please make do with this for now."
"You know what I mean," Ethan said, frustrated. He didn't want to make Andy uncomfortable, but he also didn't want to suffer alone. "Is the Duke treating me this way because I hung the attacker's head at the entrance of my territory as a warning?"
Andy glanced around cautiously before nodding silently. Ethan confirmed his suspicion but hesitated to explain that he hadn't known the customs of the Northland before. Ultimately, he decided against it. There was no point in arguing now. So, he forced a smile, took the bag, and said, "Thank you."
Andy gave him an apologetic smile before swiftly leaving. Once alone, Ethan tossed the bag onto the table, dragged a long chair closer to the fireplace, kicked off his shoes, and lay down to sleep.
Ethan had come to a realization: life was too exhausting. No matter how respectfully you treated others, they might not treat you as a person. Instead of seeking approval and facing rejection, it was better to do what made him comfortable.
He slept from evening until late at night. When he sensed someone approaching, he woke up, slowly put on his shoes, and stood up to wait. He could tell that two people were coming—one in front of the other, with remarkably even breathing and synchronized footsteps, as if they were one. It was clear that one of them was deliberately moving this way.
"A master. No, a super master!" Ethan quickly assessed.
The room's door, left slightly ajar, was pushed open to reveal a man in his fifties. He had short silver hair, healthy skin, but tired, sharp eyes. He wore a brown linen shirt with a torn shoulder, black wide-legged pants, and mud-covered military boots—no insignia or emblem.
The man following him was a middle-aged warrior around forty, with deep-set eyes, a light beard, and chiseled features. He wore a full leather swordsman's outfit, fully armed, and carried a long wooden box. Upon entering, he glanced at Ethan's hands before quickly looking away and gently closing the door.
Ethan's pupils contracted sharply when he saw the two men. His body even trembled slightly. If his guess was correct, the older man must be the Eagle Duke, and the warrior behind him was the Knight King, Gonzalez. The sword hanging from his waist should be the legendary "Blade of the Righteous Executioner." This sword, ordinary in material and craftsmanship, had been wielded by several grand swordmasters over the centuries. The sword's record was unparalleled: 45 undefeated battles in the Swordmaster Civil War and 242 total victories. It was a symbol of victory, only wielded by grand swordmasters.
Ethan wasn't shaken by the sword's fame alone. He trembled from the invisible, overwhelming pressure emanating from the Knight King. Though he had only glanced at Ethan casually, Ethan's heightened perception clearly felt the Knight King's imposing aura.
The Duke smiled warmly at Ethan and opened his arms wide as he approached. He glanced at the hair on the floor, left behind by Nolan, and then continued forward as if nothing were amiss.
"I'm very sorry, Knight Ethan. Some matters delayed me, so our dinner had to be turned into a midnight snack. I hope you don't mind!" the Duke said, moving to embrace Ethan.
Ethan wasn't foolish enough to miss the Duke's performative politeness. Instead of reciprocating, he stood tall, placed his right hand on his left shoulder, and bowed, following the empire's etiquette.
"I am honored to meet you, esteemed Duke."
The Duke laughed heartily. "Are you angry with this old man, refusing a simple hug?"
"You're teasing me, Your Grace. I am merely a knight."
"Alright, alright. If you don't want to, then never mind!" The Duke waved his hand dismissively. "You've waited long enough and must be hungry. Let's sit and eat while we talk, shall we?"
With that, the Duke led Ethan to a small round table. Several servants entered, pushing a food cart, pulling out chairs, and setting up the table.
The midnight snack was a roasted lamb, expertly sliced by a chef. Once they were seated, Ethan handed the Duke a box of carefully wrapped coffee.
"Miss Sophia asked me to greet you on her behalf. This is Black Iron Dwarf coffee, and I hope you will enjoy it."
The Duke laughed heartily, accepting the gift with both hands and passing it to a nearby servant. "That little girl, Sophia! Do tell her that I'd love for her to visit this old man sometime. By the way, if possible, I'd like this coffee to become a regular item—I really do like it."
Ethan was momentarily taken aback, thinking to himself that the Duke had seen through his plan to mix Sophia and the coffee to sell it to him. It was surprising how readily the Duke accepted.
Ethan smiled awkwardly. "I will certainly convey your message."
The Duke, noticing Ethan's gesture, glanced at the Knight King, who had been leaning idly against the wall with his arms crossed. The Knight King picked up the wooden box and walked over.