Translator: CinderTL
"Let's not talk about that for now..."
Feeling the gazes around them, Roland gently but firmly disengaged from Darco's embrace, then lightly patted his friend's shoulder.
"How's Baron Forslin's health?"
"Father's in excellent health! But Mr. Hawk often mentions you, and so do his apprentices..."
Darco shook his head in exasperation, then playfully punched Roland's chest.
"I still can't figure out why you're so popular."
"Hahahaha!"
Darco's exasperated expression transported Roland back to the tranquil days they had spent at Blackwater Territory Manor.
Hawk's frequent mentions of him were, of course, due to their mentor-father relationship.
As for the apprentices...
Probably because they couldn't find anyone else willing to help with chores for free.
Roland chuckled softly and shook his head before asking, "What about you? No one giving you trouble here?"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Darco scoffed, flexing his arm. It was now noticeably thicker than when they were at Blackwater Territory.
"Sure, some arrogant fools try to use their noble lineage to lord over me, but..."
He patted his muscular arm.
"A few punches from me and they quiet down. All softies! And..."
He glanced around to make sure no one was listening before lowering his voice, unable to hide his smugness.
"Leonard—ahem, my mentor—said I have good innate talent. In a few months, I'll be eligible to learn the breathing technique! What do you think, brother?"
Darco raised an eyebrow and nudged Roland's shoulder, his face practically screaming, "Praise me!"
"Jealous?"
"Of course," Roland replied, a slight smile playing on his lips as he nodded gently.
"You jerk..."
Seeing Roland's calm reaction, Darco's enthusiasm waned. He dropped his playful demeanor and spoke more seriously.
"Once I officially master the Knight's Breathing Technique, I can return to Blackwater Territory and inherit my title."
"If things don't work out for you in the River Domain Nations, come back and find me, understand? I might not be able to give you everything you want, but at least you'll never have to worry about food or shelter."
Looking into his friend's sincere eyes, Roland felt a warmth spread through his chest.
Though this study abroad journey remained shrouded in mysteries, reuniting with an old friend brought a rare moment of genuine relaxation.
Just as he was about to respond, a deep voice suddenly echoed across the fairground.
"Everyone, return to your formations."
Following the voice, Roland saw a burly man in a coarse linen shirt standing in the center of the fairground. His gaze swept across the students on both sides like a razor's edge, radiating an undeniable sense of authority.
"That's my mentor, Leonard..." Darco muttered, shrinking his neck and whispering to Roland. "He's got a terrible temper. Maybe... we should talk tonight—no, tomorrow night? I have assignments to finish tonight."
Roland nodded, and the two quickly returned to their respective formations.
In moments, the once-noisy fairground fell into complete silence.
Leonard immediately announced the start of the martial arts competition.
Students from the River Domain Nations and the Golden Valley Kingdom took turns competing, with Roland among them.
He deliberately restrained most of his strength, engaging in back-and-forth exchanges with his opponents. He effortlessly controlled the rhythm, maintaining a subtle yet decisive advantage, ultimately securing victory in each match with just the right margin.
After completing his matches and handing off to the next competitor, Roland returned to Instructor Reggie's side.
"Instructor Reggie..."
He caught a glimpse of Duke Arno, who had appeared on the platform unnoticed, and quickly averted his gaze, asking in a low voice, "How's the negotiation with the Golden Valley Kingdom going? When can we leave?"
Reggie, who had been intently watching the matches, shook his head helplessly, noting that their side had suffered more losses than wins.
"It's settled. The original month-long exchange has been shortened to three days."
He spoke slowly.
"Today is the martial arts demonstration. The next two days will be for sightseeing. After that, we'll set off for home."
"Three days, then..." Roland exhaled softly.
Though the information was still scarce, he couldn't fully grasp the root cause behind the Golden Valley Kingdom's strange anomalies. But as long as they distanced themselves from this place, he was confident they wouldn't get entangled in any further trouble.
"However..." Reggie's tone suddenly turned hesitant.
"When we first witnessed the phenomenon of withered earth in eastern Golden Valley, I subtly suggested we return early. But the person in charge at the time was unusually adamant against it..."
"Yet this morning, when I brought it up again, he agreed immediately. It just feels... off."
He trailed off, shaking his head.
"Perhaps it's just my imagination."
Roland frowned slightly.
After a moment's thought, he still couldn't fathom the reason for the official's sudden change of heart. In the end, he could only offer a quiet warning.
"Regardless, Instructor Reggie, we should remain cautious until we're back in the River Domain Nations. I can't shake the feeling that... something's not right."
"You're right," Reggie nodded solemnly.
After a few more brief exchanges, Roland's gaze quietly swept across the surroundings.
In stark contrast to the River Domain Nations, who had struggled to send barely a dozen transcendents during the Mistland campaign, the Golden Valley Kingdom now deployed dozens of transcendents as escorts for a simple academic exchange.
Moreover, the relatively common knights comprised only a small fraction of this force.
Among the remaining transcendents, Roland could barely discern their classes, sensing only their immense power through subtle emanations of energy.
The disparity in strength between the two nations was glaringly evident.
As Roland covertly observed the scene, the nobles on the high platform were also surveying the fairground below.
Their gazes weren't inquisitive, but rather...
Like hunters scrutinizing prey trapped in a snare, their eyes held a hidden amusement.
"Three days?"
After listening to a report from a middle-aged noble beside him, Arno popped a crimson fruit into his mouth.
"It seems the River Domain Nations didn't send complete fools this time."
"Then, Lord Arno, what should we do next?"
"First, reassure that little Lucius. Tell him everything is proceeding according to plan. Once these lowly fishermen leave the royal capital..."
Several crisp cracking sounds echoed as Arno bit into the fruit, its sweet juice trickling down the corner of his mouth.
"We'll ambush them. As for who will carry out the task..."
He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the surrounding nobles, and asked softly, "I heard Earl Auston had a conflict with these fishermen yesterday?"
"Yes," the middle-aged noble replied, a flicker of disdain crossing his eyes. "He even tried to accuse those merchants of being spies. Truly... an incorrigible fool. He nearly ruined your plans."
"No matter," Arno waved his hand, his tone remaining gentle. "Let him handle the ambush."
"But..." The middle-aged noble glanced at Auston, who was conversing with others nearby, his voice tinged with urgency. "With all due respect, Lord Arno, Earl Auston may... not be up to the task."
"Relax, Erwin," Arno said, patting his shoulder lightly, his eyes narrowing slightly. The gesture made his amiable face seem subtly sinister. "If he dies at the hands of these fishermen, that would be... quite convenient. After all," he added, "even fools have their uses."
(End of the Chapter)
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