It was a deep night when everyone should be asleep, but the sound of horse hooves ringing across the plains was thunderous.

A single horse glided forward under the brightly risen full moon, followed by dozens of cavalrymen.

From a distance, it looked like a stunning painting, but if one drew closer, they would realize it was filled with the urgent shouts of men.

"Send the signal! We have to block his path!"

In the middle of that picturesque scene, there was a knight carrying a large shield on his back, shouting orders.

The man with an impressively firm square jaw had thrown aside his torch and was fiercely chasing the man ahead of him.

"Now!"

At the man's command, flaming arrows shot up from behind.

The red arrows, revealing their presence even under the bright full moon, were sending a silent signal to the other knights waiting ahead.

"Now is the time! Charge!"

Following the signal sent by the flaming arrows, cavalrymen who had been hiding at the edge of the hill began charging out.

Their refined momentum, not crumbling in the slightest despite the urgent situation, truly befitted Arnstein's elite troops.

-...

The sight of the cavalrymen charging without a single opening looked like a wave crashing down from the hill.

However, the man who was ahead on his own showed no particular reaction, even upon seeing the swarm of cavalrymen charging darkly toward him.

-Let's go.

He merely stroked the neck of the horse he was riding once.

As the rider's hand touched it, a blue ghost fire began to burn from within the horse's eyes.

"He's too fast!"

"Damn it! Make him change direction at least!"

The ambush was excellent, but the opponent was too fast.

They were Arnstein's cavalry, accompanied by excellent warhorses, but the reality was that they couldn't even catch up to a single horse.

"... Just what kind of horse is that!"

The cavalry captain, who had pushed himself to charge down the hill, ended up gritting his teeth at the sight.

An acceleration that effortlessly surpassed all his common sense.

Even the experienced cavalry captain couldn't help but be flustered by the sight of it, doubting if it was even stepping on the ground.

"At least block its path somehow!"

If they couldn't catch up, they had to at least try to herd him.

"Fire!"

Realizing that the tips of their swords would not reach, the cavalry captain hurriedly ordered them to fire their arrows, but even that was already too late.

SWISH! SWOOSH-SWOOSH!

The arrows soared high as if to touch the clouds, but all they managed to pierce was the shadow left behind by the unidentified man.

NEIGH!

Leaving behind the cavalrymen's sighs, the unidentified man nonchalantly disappeared.

Pablo, who had stopped because he could no longer catch up, mashed his lips in frustration as he listened to the horse's cry coming from afar.

* * *

"It looks bigger than Sturma's walls."

"A little bit."

At Nibelun's words beside him, Vlad placed his palm over his brows and looked up at Valletta's gates.

The walls of Valletta, which only seemed to grow taller the closer they got.

At the sight of the grayish-white walls they had never seen in the North, both Nibelun and Vlad began darting their eyes around without prompting.

'... But the shape is a bit unusual.'

Valletta's walls not only looked sturdy but also appeared refined and elegant in shape.

It was understandable, as the bricks stacked one by one possessed a bizarre sense of balance.

"They stacked the bricks and then joined the seams with lime. That's probably why it turned out in such a wonderful shape."

Vlad nodded at Nibelun's explanation from beside him.

Indeed, just as he said, unlike Sturma's walls, which were made by placing large stones, Valletta's walls were entirely built with small bricks.

He didn't know how the durability would differ, but they would have at least been able to easily shape the walls into whatever form they desired.

"Halt! The party ahead, state your identities!"

However, in contrast to the wonderful appearance of the walls, the guards standing in front of them were sharply on edge.

Perhaps due to the chaotic atmosphere in the central region lately, the guards' attitude toward strangers was just as sharp as the spears they held.

"I am Rodrigo of the Imperial Enforcers."

Seeing their menacing demeanor, Rodrigo quickly stepped forward.

It might be different for Bayezid, but the position the Imperial Enforcers held in the central region was special.

The guards, who already knew Rodrigo's face, hurriedly raised their lowered spears in a fluster.

"Welcome, Lord Rodrigo!"

"Good work. Anyway, we would like to vouch for the people behind us as well. To be exact..."

Looking back, Rodrigo only intended to vouch for Vlad and Nibelun, but Vlad, catching onto his intention, had already pressed himself closely next to Joseph's carriage.

He didn't know how far the name Bayezid would work, but he thought it would be better to borrow the name of the Imperial Enforcers, at least here in the central region.

"... Up to that carriage there."

"Understood, Lord Rodrigo."

The captain of the guards was bewildered as an unexpectedly large number of people flooded in all at once, but even so, he could not go against the prestige of the Imperial Enforcers.

"You've grown up a lot, knowing how to be considerate now." "I'm just standing here because there's shade."

Vlad scratched his chin as he looked at Jager, who was snickering inside the carriage.

That action of trying to feign composure had the intention of hiding his awkwardness, but it was also an effort not to hurt Joseph's pride.

"... It should be fine for the Imperial Enforcers, but as for the guests, please refrain from going out at night."

However, the party's entry was proceeding more awkwardly than expected.

Because as the Imperial Enforcers ahead passed through the gates, the captain of the guards slyly blocked the party's path.

"Why is that?"

Could this also be discrimination against Northerners?

When Vlad, who had already experienced this before, made a fierce expression, the captain of the guards hurriedly opened his mouth to clarify that it wasn't the case.

"... It is because there have been frequent missing person cases throughout the territory lately. So I hope we won't have any misunderstandings."

"Missing person cases?"

To think there were missing person cases in a city that looked this sturdy.

At the completely unexpected answer, Vlad's face stiffened.

"It's difficult for me to tell you the detailed circumstances."

They were the respected Bayezid in the North, but here in the central region, they were merely outsiders.

Furthermore, now that the political landscape had become even more complicated due to the Northern Alliance, it would undoubtedly be difficult for them to hear about the intimate affairs of the territory.

"Please go inside. Valletta welcomes you."

A city that looked massive from afar and elegant up close, Valletta.

But once they crossed the gates and entered, the place seemed filled only with a disturbing silence for some reason.

* * *

"Welcome to Valletta, Joseph of Bayezid."

It was a space filled with the smell of old books.

There was an old man looking at the group in a space that was more suited to be called a study than an office.

"... And Vlad of Soara."

He was an old man who looked more like a scholar than a lord ruling over a territory.

However, the reason he didn't appear weak was likely because of the intense gaze visible behind his low-hanging glasses.

"I'm sorry about this. I should have properly addressed you as Sir Vlad Aureo."

"It's fine, Count. Please call me however you are comfortable with."

"As you know, it seems the name Vlad of Soara has become much more familiar to me."

Count Arnstein grinned as he looked at Vlad, seemingly glad to see him.

Though they had never met before, Count Arnstein and Vlad were people who already shared a connection.

The name Vlad of Soara was a possibility bloomed by the knight Pablo, so the Count's eyes looking at him were bound to be filled with genuine delight.

"The honor of my knight is my honor. Looking at the proof of that honor makes me truly glad."

The Count's interest was drawn much more toward Vlad than toward Joseph in front of him.

Lords in the northern borderlands might be a different story, but for someone of Count Arnstein's standing, the overlord of the central region, there was no need to read the room regarding Bayezid at all.

"It feels as though I can sense the cold wind of the North upon your shoulders. So, what is the reason you sought me out all the way here?"

Despite his age, his sparkling eyes were already full of curiosity.

Looking into his eyes, Vlad couldn't help but think that the Count and Nibelun would get along quite well.

"It is an honor to meet you, Count. The reason I came to see you is..."

Joseph, who had been eliminated from the Family Head competition and was looking for a shoulder to lean on until now.

Joseph tried to draw his attention by even bringing up the name of his mother's family, the Oscar Family, but the Count's gaze upon him was already cold and settled.

Rather than an unpleasant look, it was a look showing that his interest had cooled.

"... We can talk about that later."

It seemed like a remark leaving room for discussion, but in the language of nobles, it was tantamount to an expression of refusal.

"Did you also seek me out for the same reason?"

As if he knew this would happen, Joseph wasn't particularly disappointed by the Count's gaze that brushed past him.

He merely looked at Vlad beside him and nodded as if telling him to go ahead and speak.

"... I have followed the deaths of the dragons, Count."

For Vlad, dealing with nobles was always a difficult task.

Even more so in front of a big shot like Count Arnstein.

However, perhaps because Joseph was right next to him, Vlad didn't seem to feel as heavy a burden as before.

"And the wicked beings accompanying that death as well."

"... Oho."

Vlad continued speaking, carefully selecting words that would provoke the most interest, just as the Count wanted, and to get what he wanted as well.

And as if his choice had been correct, the Count's cooled eyes began to sparkle once again.

"I wasn't exactly expecting much, but you've brought some quite interesting news."

The reason guests from afar are welcome is likely because they bring fresh news that cannot be easily accessed otherwise, like now.

"Yes. You followed a wicked being, you say..."

And if the news the guest brought was connected to the very issue that had been tormenting him all this time, there could be nothing better for the host.

"Right. Let's discuss it over dinner later."

Vlad might not have known, but in the world of nobles, offering to have dinner together was akin to the highest compliment a host could give a guest.

"By the way."

"Yes. Please speak."

"There is one thing I am curious about."

And the hidden meaning behind inviting a guest to dinner also meant that the host wanted something else from them.

"I heard that all the horses in the North are excellent. Are the horses you brought with you like that as well?"

Vlad found himself briefly flustered by the Count's out-of-the-blue question.

While the Count surely had a clear intention in saying it, to Vlad listening, it was an incredibly out-of-context question.

"... Are you talking about our horses?"

"Yes. Your horses."

The Count's glasses, looking at Vlad, gleamed white.

"I am asking if the horses you have brought are fast enough to be shown off anywhere."

Vlad of Soara, the honorable name his knight Pablo had bloomed.

The Count was hoping that the northern knight, who had brought news as beneficial as it was welcome, would also become the clue to resolving the current crisis.