“…I see.”

By now, dawn was beginning to break.

And as the once-empty training grounds gradually filled with the sharp clang of colliding blades, the Knight Commander hurried to end the conversation, wary that someone might overhear them.

Ricciardo Alvaro stroked his chin and let out a quiet sigh.

“…Then this must remain a secret from Sir Apern as well, correct?”

Tony Apern.

The newest recruit placed directly under Ricciardo’s supervision.

Among all the recent additions to the Imperial Knights Order, he stood out the most.

Whether it was because of his extraordinary skill—which had earned him the position of escort to the Emperor and Empress almost immediately after joining—or because of the remarkable bloodline that had left even knights with more than a decade of service astonished.

“That… yes, it probably should remain secret. Considering the consequences that could arise later.”

“You’re right.”

“…Still, if you believe it necessary, you may tell him. That investigation is ultimately your responsibility.”

“…This certainly gives me much to think about.”

Ricciardo understood that the Commander had given him the choice out of respect for him as a member of the Emperor’s investigation team.

For that alone, he was grateful.

But the greater the trust placed upon him, the heavier the responsibility that followed.

What would happen if he revealed this matter to Tony…?

Countless possibilities crossed his mind, yet he could not easily reach a decision.

“Thank you for sparing such valuable time for me, Commander.”

“There’s no need for thanks. This is all for the progress of the investigation. If you need my assistance again, come to me anytime. At least until the expedition begins, I still have time.”

“I’m already grateful enough for everything you told me today. Still, I won’t refuse the Commander’s generosity.”

Speaking with practiced ease, Ricciardo rose from his seat.

There was still plenty of time before the morning training session began.

More than enough time to stop by the underground prison and briefly interrogate that person.

After saying he would see the Commander again during training, Ricciardo departed from the Knight Commander’s residence.

As he passed through the quiet corridor and arrived before the entrance to the underground prison, several vaguely familiar faces caught Ricciardo’s attention.

Dressed in Imperial Knight uniforms, the men stood around chatting noisily amongst themselves.

They joked with one another before enthusiastically pestering the guards as well, even as the guards awkwardly avoided eye contact.

After thinking for a moment, Ricciardo finally remembered who they were.

‘Sir Mentabil and Sir Liwor… was it?’

He had never spoken with them directly, but he had crossed paths with them several times within the Order.

Although Ricciardo had only joined the Imperial Knights about half a year ago, he had blended into the Order remarkably quickly and generally maintained excellent relationships with the senior knights.

After all, he was naturally outgoing and quick to speak first, and his easygoing personality lacked any sharp edges.

Which meant the fact that he had never once properly spoken with those two could only mean one thing, they had deliberately avoided him.

‘They snicker and whisper whenever they see me, but the moment I approach them with a smile, they suddenly act offended instead, like people caught committing a crime.’

There were occasionally people like that.

People who believed Ricciardo’s appearance had stolen away opportunities that should have belonged to them.

An elite knight who gained the trust of both the Commander and Vice Commander immediately after joining the Order, and who was chosen to escort the Emperor and Empress during their visit to the temple, naturally attracted envy and jealousy.

And on top of that, Ricciardo was the second son of the Alvaro Ducal House.

Most of the other knights were also second or third sons of noble families, but the prestige carried by the Alvaro name was on an entirely different level.

That background alone likely served as excellent fuel for resentment.

Of course, the Imperial Knights Order was ruthlessly merit-based.

Ricciardo had never received special treatment simply because he was an Alvaro.

The reason he was regarded as one of the Order’s most promising talents was entirely because of his own skill.

Anyone who had crossed swords with him even once found it impossible to remain jealous afterward.

But those who chose instead to resent him from afar lacked the courage to face a junior knight fairly in combat.

Even so, the fact that they had joined the Imperial Knights at all meant they possessed respectable ability, even if they were nowhere near Ricciardo’s or Tony’s level.

It felt wasteful.

To squander their talent merely because they were too busy envying younger knights.

With attitudes like that, they would inevitably be overtaken year after year by new recruits until the day they were forced to remove their uniforms themselves.

‘They seemed to skip training often enough. So this is where they’ve been wasting time.’

The entrance to the underground prison was hidden enough to avoid attention, yet still close enough to the training grounds that one could reach them quickly if needed.

Especially during hectic times like these, when superiors lacked the time to micromanage ordinary knights, it was the perfect spot to slack off unnoticed.

Until now, Ricciardo had usually visited the underground prison after finishing his duties in the evening.

That was why he had never realized these men spent their time here like this.

‘If they skip morning training today too, I’ll have to report it to the Commander.’

Thinking that to himself, Ricciardo approached the two knights standing before the underground prison and greeted them with a pleasant smile.

“Sir Mentabil, Sir Liwor. Fancy meeting you both in a place like this.”

The lively chatter between them stopped instantly.

Perhaps they had never expected Ricciardo to appear here at this hour or perhaps they had been caught in the middle of speaking ill of him.

Either way, traces of embarrassment flickered across both of their faces.

“Ah….”

“You must be out for a walk. Though this isn’t exactly the most scenic place for one.”

“R-Right….”

Liwor—the gentler-looking of the two knights—answered awkwardly, visibly flustered.

Mentabil, however, merely lifted his chin in silence as though displeased by something, despite having received nothing more than a polite greeting.

His attitude openly conveyed just how little he liked Ricciardo.

But because Ricciardo was far taller and broader than Mentabil, from an outside perspective it looked less like an arrogant gesture and more like Mentabil simply tilting his head upward to make eye contact.

“Sir Alvaro.”

“Yes, Sir Mentabil.”

“You intend to report to the Commander that Sir Liwor and I were here, don’t you?”

“Well now, since training hasn’t started yet, is there really any need for that?”

Looking down at Mentabil, Ricciardo answered casually, as though entirely oblivious to the jealousy directed toward him.

At the implication that he would not report them, Mentabil’s gaze softened slightly—only for the next words to ignite it all over again.

“But if you skip morning training as well, then naturally I’ll have to inform the Commander. It’s a knight’s duty to attend mandatory training, after all. Skipping it would be a problem.”

The moment those words left his mouth, anger flared again within Mentabil’s eyes.

“Sir Alvaro, I’ll give you one chance to take back what you just said.”

“Thank you for the offer. But I won’t.”

“…Sir Liwor and I are your seniors in the Order. We entered the Knights years before you did. Five years and three years ahead of you, respectively.”

“I see.”

“In other words, Sir Alvaro, you are a junior far beneath me.”

“Yes, well.”

“Then let me ask you this. Just because the Commander and Vice Commander favor you, does that give you the right to disrespect your seniors like this?”

Ricciardo paused briefly before answering.

Partly because he genuinely could not understand how saying ‘I’ll report it to the Commander if you skip training’ somehow translated into disrespecting one’s seniors.

And partly because, honestly, he very much wanted to answer with a blunt ‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t expect to waste time on something like this.’

He had intended to finish the interrogation quickly and head straight to training, but instead, valuable time was slipping away while they argued pointlessly.

And if he answered carelessly, Mentabil would undoubtedly latch onto his words and refuse to let the matter go.

Though honestly, it seemed likely the man would become angry no matter what answer he gave.

“S-Sir Mentabil….”

“Sir Liwor, I believe a rude junior should have his behavior corrected early.”

“Well, that may be true, but….”

“I’m telling you, we need to uproot this attitude now! What happens if Sir Apern ends up influenced by him too?”

“I-I think so too! But what if Sir Alvaro really reports us to the Commander? It’s not like we’ve skipped training only once or twice….”

“Then we make sure he learns not to speak carelessly! Why are you being so spineless about this?”

At this point, the two of them had started arguing with each other instead.

Wonderful.

At this rate, if Ricciardo interrupted, they looked ready to explode at him for daring to b*tt into a conversation between seniors.

Wearing a troubled expression, Ricciardo silently watched their painfully illogical argument unfold.

Meanwhile, precious time continued slipping away.

‘Should I just give up on the morning interrogation?’

After obtaining information from the Commander, he had hoped he might be able to draw out different testimony this time.

Half resigned, Ricciardo was just beginning to consider quietly slipping away while the two continued bickering—when suddenly—

Creeeeak.

The entrance to the underground prison slowly opened with a groan like a scream.

Then—

“How noisy.”

An ice-cold voice echoed out.

The shouting instantly stopped.

So startled were the two knights that they unconsciously held their breath, their tightly pressed lips trembling faintly.

The person emerging from the underground prison fixed Mentabil and Liwor with a merciless stare.

The slow-moving gaze felt like that of a beast awakened from sleep.

Both men froze rigid on the spot.

As though the mere sight of them was unbearably pathetic, the newcomer let out an irritated sigh.

“Get lost. Unless you want to lose those knight uniforms.”

At those words, the two fled instantly.

They moved so fast that the air practically whistled behind them.

Ricciardo stared blankly after them in disbelief before suddenly jolting back to his senses and taking a step away himself.

It would be wise to leave quickly before he unleashed his temper next.

But then—

“You, however, seem to have business here.”