The soldier bowed again, deeper than before.

"Permission to deliver the full message, Young Master."

Lucas let out a silent sigh.

In his mind, only one thought came up: Damn… this world is way too dramatic.

"Fine. Say it."

The soldier straightened up, though his knees were visibly trembling.

"T-The duel will be held in the center of Voss Town," he reported.

"Announcements have already been posted throughout the city. The duel is scheduled for the late afternoon… so the commonfolk can watch."

Geralt went pale.

Anya's jaw dropped.

"The countdown is six days from now."

Lucas rubbed his forehead.

Great… a whole circus. Exactly what I needed.

But the soldier wasn't finished.

"There is one last message from Sir Aldric…"

Lucas lifted his head.

"What now?"

The soldier swallowed, clearly terrified.

"He asked… where the Young Master would like to be buried."

Silence fell.

Then—

"Son of a bitch," Lucas muttered irritably.

The soldier panicked instantly, raising both hands slightly.

"M-My apologies! Young Master, I was merely ordered to deliver the message! I didn't mean—!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just go."

"Y-Yes, Young Master! I'll take my leave!"

The soldier bowed repeatedly, nearly tripped as he turned around, then sprinted away as fast as he could.

In his heart, he was immensely relieved:

Thank the Saints… the Young Master didn't do anything to me…

--

Silvara could only shake her head.

"Aldric truly intends to break your mind," she said coldly.

"He's provoking you on purpose. He wants you unstable before the duel even begins."

Lucas clenched his jaw, anger rising.

Silvara watched his expression for a moment, then let him process the anger on his own.

Not long after, Geralt and Anya approached with worried faces.

"Y-Young Master…" Geralt swallowed hard.

"Are you really… really planning to duel Sir Aldric?"

Lucas took a breath, then nodded.

"Yeah."

Geralt immediately trembled.

No… lad, why… why?

He already imagine the Young Master losing, and himself returning to poverty—struggling to earn two gold coins a day.

Anya, on the other hand, had her eyes sparkling.

"So… so Young Master is training for the duel? Wow…"

She clenched her tiny fists in admiration.

"To challenge someone far stronger than yourself… As an Iron Knight, I deeply respect your courage!"

Lucas couldn't hold it—he let out a small laugh.

This kid was always dramatic…

But at least she helped lighten my mood a bit.

"Hahaha… you're something else," Lucas said, rubbing his forehead.

"I haven't won yet, you know."

Anya lifted her chin proudly.

"But bravery is the first step toward victory!"

Geralt grew even paler.

Silvara only sighed quietly.

Lucas finally managed to exhale, the tension in his chest easing slightly.

Lucas brushed off his pants, then turned to Geralt.

"There's no more work for you today. You can go home, Old man..."

Geralt froze on the spot.

His face turned pale, then immediately panicked.

"Y-Young Master! Please… please don't dismiss me!"

He dropped into a half-kneel.

"I swear I'll work harder! I'll do everything properly! Please don't—"

Lucas covered his face with one hand.

In his mind: Good god… royal drama again. I'm so done with this.

Before he could clarify, Anya stepped forward dramatically, like a child performing on stage.

"O brave Young Master… please have mercy on my father…"

Lucas nearly threw himself onto the ground out of sheer frustration.

"That's not what I meant!" he finally snapped.

"Old man... You still works tomorrow. Today's work is done. Go home. Rest."

Geralt froze, blank for a few seconds—then realization slowly dawned on him.

"O-Oh…"

His face flushed bright red from misunderstanding.

Lucas sighed, took out two gold coins, and handed them over just like always.

"Here. Go."

Geralt lit up like the morning sun.

"YOUNG MASTER! THANK YOU! THANK YOU SO MUCH!"

His joyful voice practically echoed across the field.

Anya bounced excitedly beside him.

"OOO… Anya can eat good bread again every day! Yeaayy—"

She quickly cleared her throat and adjusted imaginary armor.

"Hmm… Iron Knight is pleased."

She declared curtly, trying to sound cool.

Lucas rubbed his temples.

Geralt was ready to head home, but Anya suddenly looked confused.

She glanced up at Silvara with wide eyes, as if seeking permission.

Silvara gave a faint smile—rare for her to show such an expression.

"You should go home as well, Anya.

We'll... continue conquering letters tomorrow, as usual."

But Anya shook her head quickly.

"I-I'd like to stay here, if that's okay…"

She fiddled with the hem of her clothes, bashful.

"A-Anya wants to wait for the maid who brings the tasty bread…"

Lucas and Silvara exchanged a look, then chuckled softly.

Lucas nodded immediately, speaking before anything else could escalate.

"Alright, fine. You can stay."

As if refusing to let Geralt slip back into his "tragic commoner" mode ever again.

Anya skipped her way toward the rows of tomato plants.

She looked at them with determined eyes.

"Anya will guard these tomatoes. So the evil birds won't attack them," she declared, planting her hands on her hips like a tiny knight.

Lucas and Silvara both nodded, then returned to their training.

Silvara stood beside Lucas, her expression turning serious again.

"Now, channel mana into the blade of your hoe. Not too much. Just direct it toward the tip."

Lucas lifted the Great Hoe, took a breath, and tried it.

Within seconds—whoosh—mana flowed through smoothly, like water.

The hoe's blade glimmered faintly.

Silvara tilted her head, slightly impressed.

"That was fast… Well, your body is still a noble's body. It's natural for you to absorb and channel mana more easily."

Lucas nodded.

Then paused.

"…Wait. If that's the case, what about you, Silvara? You're not a noble, right?"

TING—

A realization struck Lucas.

He had been with Silvara all this time, yet he'd never actually asked who she really was.

Silvara froze for a moment, then cleared her throat softly—

a bit nervous, a rare sight from her.

"If you want to know about me…"

She turned her gaze away, a faint blush on her cheeks.

"Then… just ask."

She quickly added, awkwardly:

"But… but I'm not forcing you."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.