Before departure, Arthur held a brief but solemn ceremony in front of all the soldiers, presenting Gilbert with brand-new equipment.
For these young men, most of whom were born as farmers, this moment felt like a miracle—a leap across social classes.
Every gaze was filled with envy and jealousy, and some even carried a hint of longing.
Arthur raised his longsword high, his voice deep and commanding: "In the name of Arthur Grayson, I grant you the title of knight's squire and bestow upon you the name 'Gilbert.' May you one day earn your own glory and surname."
Gilbert knelt on one knee, awkwardly mimicking the posture of a knight being knighted.
His movements were stiff, even a little clumsy, but no one laughed at him.
On the contrary, everyone held their breath, their eyes brimming with admiration and awe.
"I… Gilbert, swear to serve you, Sir Arthur, with my life and loyalty." His voice trembled, but it was filled with sincerity.
Arthur smiled faintly, helping him to his feet and personally fastening the longsword to his waist.
In that moment, Gilbert seemed to undergo a subtle transformation. Though he was still the same simple country boy, the sword at his waist and the new gear on his body made him stand out from the ordinary spearmen.
Arthur turned to face the neatly lined-up soldiers, his voice loud and inspiring: "I hope each of you will take Gilbert as an example! Train hard, fight bravely! As long as you remain loyal to me, I will reward you with wealth, status, and glory!"
"For Sir Arthur!" the soldiers shouted in unison, their voices booming, their morale soaring.
Arthur chuckled inwardly. The art of making grand promises was something he had long mastered.
Compared to many others in this world, he clearly understood how to inspire loyalty and ambition.
After the ceremony, Arthur led his energized soldiers to rendezvous with the Falcon Trading Company.
The caravan was sizable, with about thirty to forty guards escorting over twenty wagons.
However, the guards' equipment was a mess—some carried swords, others spears, and one even had an old, worn-out bow.
Arthur scanned the group and couldn't help but shake his head. The guards' physiques and gear were unimpressive, a stark contrast to the soldiers he had trained.
As he observed, the caravan's leader, Geoffrey, approached quickly.
Geoffrey's eyes swept over Arthur's soldiers, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. "Sir Arthur, are these your family's private troops?"
His question wasn't unreasonable.
After three months of training, combined with ample food supplies and the assistance of the Data Panel, Arthur's soldiers had undergone a complete transformation. Each one was strong and imposing. Despite their simple equipment, they exuded an intimidating presence just by standing there.
In comparison, the caravan guards looked downright shabby.
Arthur smiled slightly, sidestepping the question and instead raising his own value: "Geoffrey, I've told you before—my team is worth a higher price. Next time you hire me, you'd better prepare more gold."
Geoffrey nodded repeatedly, his smile more genuine than before. "Of course, of course, Sir Arthur. You're absolutely right."
Though he agreed readily, Geoffrey had other thoughts in mind. Next time, he'd likely hire a cheaper group of mercenaries.
After all, merchants cared most about costs.
As long as the guards could fend off bandits, their quality wasn't a top priority.
With the caravan guards, hired mercenaries, and over thirty workers and servants, the group totaled around seventy people—enough to handle most unexpected situations.
Unless they encountered a truly dangerous threat, Geoffrey wouldn't spend an extra coin.
The caravan soon set off, embarking on a long journey.
For Arthur, this was his first time independently leading such a mission, but it wasn't unfamiliar.
During his time as a knight's apprentice, he had already experienced similar tasks.
From escorting caravans to participating in skirmishes, long-distance raids, and battlefield command, these were all part of a knight's comprehensive training.
This is precisely why training a knight is so expensive—they were never meant to be treated as ordinary soldiers.
On the battlefield, knights typically serve as mid- to low-ranking officers, especially those of noble birth.
A fully trained knight can lead a banner unit or a company of a hundred men during wartime. In times of peace, they are more than capable of handling small-scale armed conflicts between nobles. Even when a temporary army needs to be assembled quickly, the presence of knights ensures a baseline level of combat effectiveness.
Arthur, relying on the training of this life and the memories of his past one, handled everything with ease.
He planned the marching routes, occasionally inspected the troops, and carried himself with the practiced demeanor of a seasoned leader.
The only thing that left him dissatisfied was the lack of proper equipment.
As an independent knight, his mount was nothing more than a common nag, and his armor was a simple leather set—far inferior to the warhorses and gear provided by the count during his time in service.
His squire, Gilbert, was in an even sorrier state, also riding a plain nag and looking pitifully under-equipped.
Despite these limitations, Arthur didn't waste any time. While traveling, he made the most of the journey by training Gilbert, even incorporating the spearmen into his drills.
Using the Data Panel, he could monitor the soldiers' progress. While most of their stats remained relatively unchanged, there were occasional improvements, especially in the accumulation of experience points, which were steadily growing.
The first few days of the journey were uneventful, as they were still within the vicinity of Sentinel City—a relatively safe area that wasn't the caravan's primary destination.
However, once the caravan entered Count Avington's territory, things began to change.
The Falcon Trading Company had chosen a carefully planned route. Though it was slightly longer, it passed through more estates and villages.
Arthur was familiar with these areas, having served here before.
While he had never worked with the Falcon Trading Company directly, it was clear that the caravan wasn't large enough to attract the count's attention.
When major trading companies entered the count's lands, they were typically escorted by military forces, and much of Arthur's experience had been gained during those missions.
As the journey progressed, Arthur and the caravan leader, Geoffrey, grew more acquainted.
The two often chatted, and Arthur gleaned a fair amount of information from their conversations.
It turned out that the Falcon Trading Company primarily dealt in goods for commoners and seemed to have some connection to someone within the count's household.
The caravan's cargo included linen, farming tools, and a small number of jars and bottles—items that could fetch decent prices in the estates and villages along the way.
On the return trip, they planned to use the empty wagons to purchase furs and grain, which they would then sell elsewhere for a tidy profit.
Of course, Geoffrey didn't share too many details about the exact margins.
The journey remained relatively smooth for the most part.
At one point, they even encountered a patrol from a knightly order. Arthur exchanged greetings with a few familiar knight-squires among them.
The noble knights were somewhat surprised by Arthur's decision to become a Knight-Errant, but they didn't comment further.
However, once the caravan left Count Avington's territory, the atmosphere grew noticeably tense.
Geoffrey made a point of warning Arthur in advance: "This area is close to the mountains. Occasionally, barbarian tribes cross the range, but the biggest threat comes from the roaming bandits."
Arthur nodded, though he wasn't particularly worried.
As someone who had participated in anti-bandit campaigns in the past, he was intimately familiar with the situation in this region.
After recalling the local terrain and the distribution of various groups, he couldn't help but ask, "This area is mostly scattered villages and mountain strongholds, with no noble claiming it as their domain. Why would the caravan risk coming here?"