The knight wearing a silver helmet felt a tremendous shock at this moment.

He remembered clearly that three or four months ago, a young boy dressed in poor-quality clothing, carrying a mud sapling, arrived alone at Rose Manor, demanding to see Firina.

At that time, the boy was indistinguishable from the lowly lives in the slums, with the only difference being his calm demeanor and fearless gaze.

He vividly recalled the boy being rewarded with a hundred Gold Coins by Firina after presenting Blue Crystal Grass.

The boy later seemed to have received additional gifts from Firina, becoming a Pioneer Lord...

The Pioneer Lord wasn't the key; the key was... what kind of Pioneer Lord could possess a Level 15 mount in just three or four months?

Was it so easy in a wilderness filled with dangers to establish a Pioneer Territory?!

Moreover, the aura surrounding the boy was unmistakably that acquired through countless bloody battles, controlling the fate of thousands!

It was the exclusive mark of those in upper positions!

He had only seen it in a few high-ranking figures.

No one among the younger generation possesses it...

Not even the first heirs of those Duke Clans!

He couldn't imagine why there was such a drastic change in just a few months for the boy.

Could it be that he got the Level 15 mount simply by a stroke of luck?

He wanted desperately to reassure himself, but it just didn't sit right.

Because his father, an Imperial Baron, was only Level 15!

And even at that level, he was already supporting the whole family.

But now, the boy's mount matched his father's level... how absurd is that?!

Even finding reasons couldn't convince him to accept it all.

What stirred his emotions more was a sad message from his cousin, who had become a Pioneer Lord last year and was once closely bonded with him.

His territory had been destroyed by a pack of Bloodthirsty Werewolves, and he perished amidst the chaotic battles.

The contrasting fates brought a peculiar sense of disjointed destiny.

He couldn't help but feel a bit downhearted.

But eventually, he forcibly suppressed his turbulent emotions, took a deep breath, and said solemnly.

"Lord Lear, please wait a moment. I will notify them right away."

He said and then turned away, entering the manor himself.

Though he couldn't quite describe his feelings on the way.

Soon, he arrived at a house not open to the public, reported to the maid guarding the door, and received a summons.

Carefully passing through the door, he entered the elegantly furnished room.

The walls around were adorned with colorful oil paintings, their lines graceful, the craftsmanship simple yet pure, clearly from the hands of masters.

The furniture and decorations were exquisite and beautiful, unmatched by anything outside in terms of style.

In the center, a ten-meter long wooden table held a candelabra, its candle flames flickering lightly, drops of wax slowly dripping down, occasionally making sizzling sounds.

The room carried a slightly drowsy beauty.

Before the main seat were seven or eight exquisite dishes, sampled delicately by a figure that made the outside world tremble.

Every move was soothing to the eyes, filled with elegance and classicism, like a perfect noble etiquette teaching demonstration during dinner.

The knight in the silver helmet saw the figure, his gaze heated, humbly bowed his head, and placed his hand over his chest in salute.

"Good evening, Your Highness."

The Griffin Empire's most celebrated genius mage, Eldest Princess of Lorand City, the stunningly beautiful Northern Flower—Firina Lorand, gently laid down her knife and fork.

Her tone was steady, crisp, and ear-catching.

"Rekell, is there anything amiss?"

Silver helmet knight responded with a complicated tone.

"Your Highness, a Pioneer Lord requests an audience..."

"Pioneer Lord? The new batch of Pioneer Lords received their supplies yesterday; what do they seek with me?"

Such ordinary matters wouldn't be reported to her; Rekell would intercept them.

Now, drawing the knight himself, something was evidently amiss.

"Your Highness, the Lord is... Lord Lear."

Pronouncing that name, his voice carried a trace of bitterness.

Firina was slightly surprised, with a hint of joy faintly visible.

Her gaze instinctively shifted to the side, landing on an oak table carved with intricate elf patterns.

A whimsical Seven-Colored Bamboo Dragonfly gently swayed in the breeze.

Its unique appearance added a touch of life to the entire space.

Lord Lear returned from the wilderness?

A vision surfaced in her mind: a plain-looking, weak figure who stood proudly, viewing her as an equal, winning her recognition and friendship, handsome in appearance.

Her eyes softened.

"Bring him in."

"Yes, Your Highness..."

"Wait, Jasmine... you go too."

The knight in the silver helmet, surprised, looked up at the maid, the bitterness in his mouth deepening.

In his three years stationed at Rose Manor, it was the first time he saw Firina dispatch her personal maid to receive someone.

And the person wasn't some noble scion, just a Pioneer Lord who had been in the wilderness for a few months... thinking of his cousin who was dear to him, buried in the wilderness, a sense of irony arose.

Both human, yet the disparity could be so vast?!

Jasmine exchanged a glance with him, softly replied, and stepped forward to follow.

After leaving the hall, the maid, with a gentle temperament and elegant demeanor, equal to that of any noble lady, carried a touch of curiosity in her eyes.

"Rekell, it seems Lord Lear has undergone quite a change..."

She observed closely, noting the changes in his expressions that couldn't escape her gaze.

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