At the entrance connecting the rest stop to the Kazimierz Nomadic City, Yujin let out a heavy sigh after having every pocket and bag thoroughly searched.
"…This is exactly what the Master was worried about."
As soon as he identified himself as a Sarkaz during the standard checkpoint procedure, the Kazimierz Security Force immediately treated him as an Infected. They shouted at him, ordering him not to move. For a split second, Yujin considered drawing his power, but he knew fighting there wouldn‘t change anything.
Eventually, he stood still and calmly requested a medical examination. He told them he would leave without a fuss once they saw the results. Since identifying Oripathy patients was a standard protocol for every nation, Yujin was subjected to a rapid scan.
"…Our deepest apologies!"
He hadn't expected a formal apology, but the guards bowed deeply once the scan confirmed he was uninfected. Thanks to that result and the high-quality identification papers Netsalem had forged, he was granted entry into Kazimierz.
"Sigh. Discrimination is the same everywhere, it seems."
When he revealed his race, the looks he received were split into two categories: pure loathing or an cold, mechanical indifference. Yujin wouldn't forget those eyes. Most people looked at others with a hollow gaze, but a look of genuine disgust was harder to brush off. It was a look he had seen many times as a child—the look people give to trash.
In Kazdel, everyone was a Sarkaz, so it didn't matter. But here, in a country dominated by the Kuranta, the persecution was palpable. Still, Yujin had no intention of hiding his identity. "Sarkaz" was a name that had become an inseparable part of his life. He couldn't discard it, and he wouldn't even if he could.
"I need some rest."
He had been living out of his vehicle for a week. Driving day and night had taken its toll, and the exhaustion was starting to set in.
Kazimierz maintained the outward aesthetic of a medieval knightly era, but once inside the Nomadic City, it boasted a cityscape of brilliant, eternal lights. It was a sight never seen in Kazdel. Buildings stood tall and dense, forming concrete canyons that triggered long-buried memories of Yujin‘s previous life.
"I was expecting more of a medieval vibe, but this isn't bad either."
Even the streets were meticulously maintained, illuminated by bright lamps. Since it was late, the crowds were thin, but there were still a few stragglers about.
After a short walk, he entered the inn he had planned to stay at. The interior was a stark contrast to the modern exterior—clean, wooden, and traditional. The first floor was a bustling tavern, while the guest rooms appeared to be on the floor above.
The raucous noise of the tavern died down the moment Yujin walked in. Dozens of eyes scanned him in a momentary silence before everyone returned to their drinks as if he were of no consequence.
A welcome ceremony, I guess, Yujin thought as he took a seat at the bar to order food. The man behind the counter, who was polishing glasses, looked up.
"An outsider. What brings you to Kazimierz?"
"Why does anyone come here at this time? I‘m here for the Grand Knight Territory."
He could have proudly stated he was here to compete, but that would have been a clumsy move. A random outsider claiming they were here for the nation's greatest tournament would only invite ridicule.
"Hah, true enough. There isn't much else to do here during the Major season."
As Yujin ordered from the menu, the aroma of cooking food made his stomach growl. He decided to fish for some information.
"How exactly does the Grand Knight Territory work? I've only just arrived."
"…Hmm."
The man's gaze suggested that if he wanted information, he‘d need to buy a drink, not just a meal. Yujin sighed and ordered a beer.
"Will you tell me now?"
"A man of culture, I see. What do you want to know?"
Yujin asked about the match formats, the qualifiers, and the knightly associations. The man answered readily.
"The knightly orders are famous enough, but... the situation has changed recently."
"Changed? In what way?"
"The old orders used to be symbols of glory—military powerhouses known for courage and justice. Now, the knights are split into two factions."
The Kazimierz knights were famous across the world. Even though they were divided into dozens of orders, a two-way split was news to Yujin.
"The Sport Knights and the Campaign Knights."
A flicker of distaste crossed the man‘s eyes as he mentioned the first group.
"The Campaign Knights are the true military force of Kazimierz. The Sport Knights... well, they're the economic backbone. They‘re the stars, the faces, the celebrities."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the Sport Knights have forgotten their duty. They‘ve forgotten why they became knights in the first place."
The famous chivalry of Kazimierz is rotting from the inside, Yujin realized.
"This Major will be the tipping point. Whether a Sport Knight becomes the champion or a Campaign Knight takes the title... the winner will take everything."
A bitter nostalgia hung in the man‘s gaze. Yujin felt a similar bitterness in his own mouth.
"But technically, wouldn't the Campaign Knights be more skilled?" Yujin asked. If the Sport Knights were just corporate figureheads, surely the actual military branch would be stronger.
"It‘s not that simple. Most of the top Sport Knights were originally veterans from the Campaign branches who were 'reformed' by corporate money. They are undeniably powerful."
So the current Sport Knights were pushing for the commercialization of the matches for power and profit, while the Campaign Knights wanted to reclaim the "honor" they felt had been abandoned.
On the surface, the Sport Knights sound like the villains, Yujin thought. But he wasn't here to judge. Not yet. He didn't even have a clear path into the Major yet, so he decided to take his time and observe.
"Hahaha! The winner might be a mystery, but the first one to be kicked out is already decided!"
A drunk patron nearby shouted, slamming his beer mug onto his table.
"The Nearls, obviously! Those fools don't know their place, trying to enter this competition!"
Nearl. Hearing that name, Yujin paused mid-bite. It sounded familiar.
"What can a bunch of wingless pegasi even do? All they have left is to plummet," another patron added.
Nearl... Pegasus... Yujin put the clues together in his head.
"Ah, right."
He remembered his friend back in his previous world mentioning a character with that name from the game. The memories were three years old and hazy, but he recalled it was a legendary knightly family.
He sipped his drink and listened as the drunks continued to mock the family. They laughed about how the tournament brackets had supposedly been rigged to pit the Nearl family against impossible odds just to humiliate them.
Something to keep in mind, he noted. Local gossip was the most valuable kind of intel.
"So, you‘re just here as a tourist then?" the bartender asked, placing a side of fries on the counter as a complimentary snack.
"For now. But my goal is to become a knight."
"Ho? An outsider aiming to be a Kazimierz knight? And where exactly do you hail from?"
"Sarkaz."
That single word caused the entire tavern to go silent.
The drunk who had been mocking the Nearl family burst into a loud, mocking laugh and stumbled over to Yujin.
"Hah! You think it's that easy to become a knight of Kazimierz? You're a Sarkaz! How did an Infected like you even get into the city?!"
The man threw an arm around Yujin‘s shoulder and tapped his cheek provocatively. Yujin continued eating his fries without reacting.
"I‘m not Infected."
"A Sarkaz who isn't Infected? Bullshit! You‘re just lying to hide the rot!"
People never believe the truth if it contradicts their prejudices. Yujin sighed and tried to shrug the man‘s arm off.
"Hey, maybe if we lift his shirt, we'll find some Originium crystals hiding underneath?"
The man reached for Yujin‘s clothes as if touching something filthy.
"I‘ve been patient enough."
With those words, the drunk man was sent airborne.