Liam had to admit that perhaps he still had plenty of room to improve.
At the very least, he couldn’t make heads or tails of the fighting style used by the brat named Clarus.
It was orthodox knightly swordsmanship, performed with the most flamboyant weapon of all—the rapier.
Normally, anyone using a weapon like that should be doing everything possible to show off their technique.
And yet the moment the fight began, Clarus launched such a vicious offensive that Liam was completely caught off guard.
There was a certain beauty to it—the kind born from fighting desperately for your life out in the wilderness.
Between Clarus’s sudden assault, his absurd attack speed, and those bizarre shadow thrusts that seemed almost impossible to defend against, Liam actually found himself being forced steadily backward.
Liam decided to simply overpower every trick with brute force.
After all, a lance naturally carried far more weight and force than a rapier.
Then Clarus lightly hopped backward.
And the next thing Liam saw was Margaret, her entire body blazing with light and fighting spirit, charging in to trade blows with him head-on.
This was supposed to be a battle between warriors, yet somehow the other side had brought a paladin who could tank, deal damage, and heal, while a high-agility, high-burst assassin bounced around beside her…
It didn’t take particularly long for the match to reach its conclusion.
Even Liam had no choice but to admit that the younger generation was terrifying.
“We won!” Even after leaving the training grounds, Margaret was still riding the high of their victory.
“So when are you planning to leave?” Clarus himself wasn’t particularly excited.
After a person brushed against death enough times, they eventually became numb to it.
A controlled spar like the one against Liam simply wasn’t enough to stir much emotion in him anymore.
“Hmm…
once the commander approves everything on his end, we can set off.” Margaret’s heroic features were filled with joy and anticipation for the future.
“Then…” She blinked her large eyes.
“It might still take another couple of days.
Where are you going to stay?” “Me?” Clarus scratched his head.
“I already filed a request.
I’ll just pitch a tent outside your encampment.” “Toland came with me, and that wanted criminal obviously can’t enter a military camp.” “Huh?
How can you do that?!” Margaret blinked rapidly, trying very hard to put on an expression that said, I’m only saying this for your own good.
“Actually, I train by myself until really late every day.
Because of that, the knight order even gave me a room all to myself…” Clarus’s mouth twitched.
“And what exactly do you plan to do with Uncle Toland?
Make him sleep outside the camp by himself?” Margaret’s little scheme ultimately failed.
In the end, all she could do was grit her teeth, glare at Toland, and help them set up the tent.
Poor Toland was completely baffled.
He had no idea how he’d managed to offend this little princess and couldn’t help worrying that once they got home, Młynar—Mr.
Family Comes First himself—might skin him alive and turn the hide into a new outfit for Margaret.
Two days passed quickly.
Throughout those two days, Margaret dragged Clarus everywhere she went.
Even when the knight order received missions to suppress bandits, she insisted on bringing Clarus along.
As for how Clarus felt about personally capturing one fellow bounty hunter after another…
Well, no one knew.
Still, bullying a bunch of poor bandits and bounty hunters wasn’t particularly entertaining.
And Clarus could clearly see how lax many members of the knight order had become.
An army like this would never fight a proper war well.
Kazimierz had been at peace for far too long.
With nothing better to do, Toland picked up a nearby treasure-hunting commission.
In the end, he crawled into a cave and dug out the client’s childhood “treasure”—a box of toys the man himself had buried there years ago.
Toland was absolutely furious.
Once their luggage was packed, Margaret gave Liam a hug and thanked him for everything he’d done for her over the years.
Liam was genuinely reluctant to see her leave, but a loss was a loss.
He wasn’t the type to make excuses after giving his word, so he simply smiled and told her to come back and visit often.
Several young campaign knights nearby were also “extremely sad to see Margaret go,” and therefore wanted to “give her a farewell hug.” Clarus kicked them flying.
Outside the encampment, Toland squatted on the ground counting ants like some idle NPC.
Once everything had been loaded into the pickup truck, they departed for home amid a chorus of farewells.
Hot-blooded Kazimierzian music played through the truck’s speakers while Clarus and Margaret sat together in the back.
“With your strength, Margaret, winning the championship shouldn’t be much of a problem, right?” Clarus rubbed his chin, then shook his head.
“Hehe.
If you believe I can win, then I’ll definitely become champion.” Margaret said as her eyes kept darting around.
“Not necessarily.
Some of the competitors really are ridiculously strong.” Clarus sighed with admiration.
“Take the Black Knight, for example.
I feel like she could kill me with one slap.” “Huh?” Margaret blinked.
“You actually watch knight competitions?
I remember you never really being interested in them…” “I watch recordings when there’s nothing to do out in the wilderness.” Clarus idly fiddled with his music player.
“Wait.” Margaret suddenly caught onto the important part.
“You said ‘she’?” Her tone immediately became somewhat dangerous.
“You’re a fan of another knight?
And she’s a female knight?!” “What’s wrong with female knights?” Clarus remained perfectly calm before suddenly turning toward Margaret with a mischievous grin.
“What, I’m not allowed to like female knights?” His smile widened.
“You’re about to become one yourself, you know.
Better not let me end up liking you, then.” “L-Like…” Margaret’s brain immediately overloaded.
The word repeated endlessly through her head until she felt as though steam might start pouring from her ears and she was about to faint on the spot.
Clarus shrugged and went back to fiddling with the music player.
What a rookie.
High attack, zero defense.
One little counterattack and she immediately behaved herself.
Once he finished adjusting the player, Clarus placed one earbud into Margaret’s ear and the other into his own, then happily closed his eyes and began enjoying the music.
Unfortunately for Margaret, that tiny gesture made her entire body go rigid.
Her back became straighter than it ever was when facing a superior officer as she sat bolt upright in her seat.
Breathe.
Keep breathing.
Don’t pass out…
From the driver’s seat, Toland silently gave Clarus the middle finger in his heart.
Flirting with her when you don’t even plan on marrying her.
Fucking scumbag.
Tsk…
And the moment Toland remembered that Margaret wasn’t even the only girl this bastard had dangling on a hook, the sour taste in his heart became even stronger.
…
After returning to Kawalerielki, they made the customary visit to old man Kirill, once again witnessing the deeply touching bonds between grandfather and granddaughter, as well as uncle and niece.
There was little point in Clarus returning to wander the wilderness anymore.
He had already found the direction he wanted his future to take.
All he lacked was an opportunity.
And now, he’d realized something else.
Since Margaret’s goal was also to help him—and other Infected just like him…
Clarus resumed his life in Kawalerielki.
It had been a long time since he’d lived this way, yet he didn’t find it uncomfortable at all.
As the saying went, going from frugality to luxury was easy.
Life in the Grand Knight Territory was infinitely better than living out in the wilderness.
What was there to complain about?
Well…
someone certainly had complaints.
Zofia was very dissatisfied.
The moment she heard about everything Margaret and Clarus had done together, she marched straight over to find Margaret.
She came out crying.
Margaret was at least comforting her afterward, but even Kirill noticed that no matter how hard his granddaughter tried, the corners of her mouth simply refused to stay down.
The very next day, Zofia dragged Clarus to an amusement park by herself, claiming she wanted to “relive the joys of childhood.” This time, Margaret couldn’t smile at all.
Life settled into a peaceful routine.
Since the current Kazimierz Major had already begun, Margaret would have to wait another three years before she could participate in the next one.
At long last, the highly anticipated 21st Kazimierz Major reached its final stage.
On the day of the championship match, Kawalerielki—the Grand Knight Territory—shone with dazzling brilliance.