By the time I reached the eastern gate, it was already 5:36 a.m. I spotted two girls with a striking difference in height. One had long orange hair tied in a ponytail and wore gray armor. The other had short, pale-purple hair and was dressed in lightweight clothes suitable for easy movement.
They were Grace and Ethefelis. They'd arrived surprisingly early, while Jacob didn't seem to be here yet. I walked over to them.
"You're here early. Have you eaten?"
"I have."
"Mr. Karen, I've eaten."
"Mr. Karen, I've eaten as well."
There were only two of them, yet a third voice joined in. It sounded very familiar—like the Sword Saint.
I turned my head, and sure enough, it was the Sword Saint.
Why was he here? Don't tell me he planned to come along too… No, more likely he was here as a father, seeing his daughter off.
"Duke Somart, are you here to see Grace off? I didn't notice you earlier."
"Yes. I had something to take care of and stepped away for a bit."
Wasn't the Sword Saint a little too worried? And he was alone—I didn't see anyone who looked like his wife. He really was overprotective.
On the other hand, weren't Ethefelis's parents a little too carefree? She was only twelve—no, thirteen—and yet no one came with her… ah, well. Other people's family matters weren't something I should comment on.
Since the Sword Saint was here, I also got curious about what had happened with the people from the temple after I left yesterday. They hadn't come to my house, but that didn't mean I could let my guard down.
"By the way, Duke Somart, what happened with the people from the temple yesterday?"
"They've split into two factions over your actions. One believes you are not the true Brave. The other believes the Archbishop and is convinced that you are."
I hadn't expected them to split like that. Of course, I firmly belonged to the I'm not the Brave faction. As long as they believed I wasn't the Brave, no one would go around calling me one.
The next step was figuring out how to make that faction win. But I couldn't interfere directly—doing so would be walking straight into a trap. That meant I had to rely on someone who already knew the truth. Conveniently, I had one right next to me.
"Is there any way for the not the Brave faction to win?"
"Your intentions are a bit too obvious, don't you think? Still, I believe it would be difficult. The Archbishop has a lot of influence. It may resolve itself given some time."
What a shame. Truly a shame. I should've dealt with the Archbishop first. He was the one who reported things to the king back then. But I still hadn't heard anyone ask me directly whether I was the Brave. Had he not announced it yet?
"The Archbishop hasn't made my identity public yet, has he?"
When I asked, the Sword Saint glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then lowered his voice.
"Lord Karen, please lean your ear closer."
"Alright."
I didn't think this answer needed that much secrecy, but I leaned in anyway.
"In order to make you submit to the temple, the Archbishop is holding off on announcing it for now. If he waits too long, however, he may make it public."
That really didn't require whispering. Still, it meant the Archbishop planned to give me time—once I submitted, he'd announce it. Or perhaps he'd keep it hidden as long as it benefited him. Either way, his goal was my power.
His ambition was bigger than I'd thought. He needed a warning. This time, I leaned toward the Sword Saint's ear instead.
"Then please convey this to him politely: don't even dream that I'll submit to the temple. If he dares to announce it, I'll make the entire temple disappear."
The moment I finished, the Sword Saint stared at me in shock and whispered hoarsely,
"Can you really do that?!"
"We'll see."
I answered with a smile. The Sword Saint froze. Grace and Ethefelis, who had been watching us, both looked completely confused. Yeah… kids really didn't need to know about this.
I casually turned my head—and saw Jacob arriving. It wasn't even six yet, but since everyone was here, we might as well depart soon.
Jacob waved as he approached us, then spoke in flippant tone.
"Oh, you're all here already. Looks like I'm the last one."
Suddenly, the Sword Saint crossed his arms and fixed Jacob with a stern stare, his voice rough and commanding.
"Hey, kid. Come here."
"Eh?! S-Sword Saint—Duke Somart, sir?! Y-Y-Yes! I'm Jacob Zereil…!"
Jacob panicked the instant he recognized the Sword Saint. Had he not noticed the Sword Saint standing right beside me? After Jacob finished introducing himself, the Sword Saint jerked his chin toward a nearby spot.
"I have something to say to you. Come."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Jacob trembled so badly that even his walking turned stiff and awkward. What was going on? Had Jacob done something wrong? I pointed at the Sword Saint and asked Grace,
"Grace, what's going on?"
But Grace covered her face and crouched down, replying in embarrassment,
"Don't ask me. This is so humiliating…"
Soon after, the Sword Saint returned with an arm draped over Jacob's shoulder. Jacob was hunched over, shrinking into himself, looking like someone who'd just been bullied by thugs and didn't dare resist.
The Sword Saint then asked me to protect Grace—a strange thing to say. If I was supposed to protect Grace, did I even need her in the party? Still, I didn't want to lecture him in front of his daughter, so I just brushed it off.
Unable to watch any longer, Grace started pushing the Sword Saint away, telling him to hurry home. The Sword Saint gave her a hug, obediently turned around, and left. Only after he disappeared from sight did Grace turn back to us.
During that time, I walked over to Jacob—who already looked thinner before we'd even set out—and asked him what the Sword Saint had said.
"Jacob, what did the Sword Saint tell you?"
"He warned me not to make a move on Grace."
So that was it—the Sword Saint was a total daughter-lover, and Jacob had been labeled a bad influence. Faced with that, I didn't really know what to say. I placed a hand on Jacob's shoulder and spoke with a tone full of pity.
"Then be careful. And remember—if you do make a move, take responsibility."
Taking responsibility might lessen the sentence, after all. I didn't mind romance within the party, but don't mess up the team's atmosphere.
"I won't make a move!"
"Fine, fine. If you say you won't, then you won't. These are your bicycles."
Jacob denied it vehemently, and I brushed him off casually before taking out four bicycles.
One of the four was a smaller model, adjusted for Ethefelis's height. She was a bit too petite, after all.
"These bikes are so light! Where were they made?"
Jacob lifted one of the bicycles, marveling at its weight. It made sense—these four bikes were all high-performance models, with high load capacity, great speed, lightweight frames, and excellent durability.
"I got them from a dungeon."
"No way… what is the dungeon, anyway…"
Jacob looked completely stunned, but honestly, it was still too early for that reaction. He could be as shocked as he wanted later—once he saw the traveling house.
After that, Grace came back to pick up her bicycle, and we set off. All three of them rode well, but Jacob didn't have much stamina, so we had to slow the pace for him.