Chapter 37: Reversal

"Lord Kuro, I've heard the Knight Sanctum will soon be recruiting new apprentices. Is this true?"

After some idle chatter, Cheneys abruptly shifted the topic.

Upon hearing this, Lord Kuro stroked his beard with a faint smile. "The matter is absolutely true. A friend of mine, an Execution Knight in the Sanctum, told me himself."

"That is splendid news!" Lord Cheneys's eyes lit up, though his voice held hesitation. "Truthfully, I wish to recommend my son, Lavelle. You know he's shown potential for knighthood since boyhood, merely lacking the proper avenue into the Sanctum. As friends of many years, you will surely assist me with this small favor, yes?"

Lord Kuro merely offered an understanding nod. Noble titles in the Kingdom of Zane were not hereditary in perpetuity. Cheneys's current rank was its terminus; his children would not inherit nobility. To retain aristocratic privilege, they needed to earn new titles. Becoming a sanctioned Knight of the Sanctum was the simplest and most fitting path.

"Of course, my friend. Lavelle's qualities are evident. He is born knightly material. I shall employ my connections to secure him an opportunity within the Sanctum."

Lord Kuro was quite willing to aid his fellow noble Cheneys – one never knew when the favor might need returning.

"You have my profound gratitude! I shall remember this kindness!"

Cheneys executed a perfectly elegant bow, his excitement barely contained.

"It is simply what a friend does," Kuro replied, still stroking his beard with a smile.

At that moment, a maid in a black-and-white dress entered and curtsied. "Milord, Commander Barbour has returned."

Cheneys's smile vanished. "Did they bring back that peasant?" he asked coldly.

"There is indeed a plainly dressed young man accompanying them."

"That must be him..." Cheneys confirmed with a nod.

Lord Kuro, who had been listening with vague confusion, interjected. "What exactly is this about?"

Cheneys wasted no time, succinctly recounting the incident involving Lavelle near the academy grounds.

After hearing it, Kuro also displayed anger – genuine or feigned was unclear. "Outrageous! I have never encountered such audacity from lowborn filth! He must be publicly executed! How else shall the dignity of nobility be upheld?"

You carry it out yourself then. I've no wish for the stink... Cheneys thought disdainfully, though his face mirrored the outrage.

The two noble lords swept imperiously towards the entrance hall.

Even approaching Cheneys's manor, Glen was struck by the sheer opulence of the aristocracy. The ruling class of a fantasy world truly is different. Their dwellings are exquisite; the architectural beauty rivals anything I saw before... he assessed silently.

Stepping inside the estate grounds, his eyes met meticulously trimmed hedges forming ornamental gardens. At the center of one green enclosure stood a fountain graced by intricately carved stone statues. Maids, doubling as gardeners, tended to every detail. They dipped into respectful curtsies whenever Barbour, clad in his noble knight's armor, passed them by.

An unexpected wave of nostalgia washed over Glen. He recognized it as an echo from his predecessor's memories.

"That's him! Mother! That's him!"

A shrill voice shattered Glen's introspection.

He focused his gaze and, surprisingly, saw Lavelle and a noblewoman approaching rapidly, their expressions hostile.

"Milady!" Barbour saluted, and the men-at-arms followed suit, offering the Knight's salute to Sophia.

Sophia acknowledged them with a mere hum. She then tilted her chin upwards, regarding Glen with undisguised disdain. "So, you are the one who struck my precious son?"

Facing the noblewoman's question, Glen didn't answer directly. Instead, he looked at Lavelle, his tone heavy with implication. "Seems I really did go too easy on you…"

"How dare you utter such things in my presence!" Sophia shrieked, her composure evaporating like steam. She resembled a bristling cat.

The men-at-arms raised their swords. One even leveled a flintlock pistol.

Nearby maids had already retreated to a safe distance, peering nervously from behind the tall hedge walls.

"Is that really the peasant who dared strike Young Master Lavelle? How brazen!" "He's finished. The Lord will have him executed. So pitiful, and so young." "Hush! Be careful Lady Sophia hears you. You'll be punished..."

Glen alone caught every whispered word.

"You filthy peasant! Just wait for the gallows! Hahaha..." Lavelle crowed, his laughter piercing as he watched Glen surrounded by weapons.

Yet, despite the encircling threat, Glen remained unnervingly calm. He casually pushed aside a sword tip that had come dangerously close to his nose, his voice level. "No need for haste, noble lords. The party isn't quite complete."

Before anyone could grasp his meaning, two more figures approached – Lord Cheneys and Lord Kuro.

"Let me see the face of the man who dared lay hands on my son!" Cheneys's voice boomed ahead of him.

As the two lords drew near, everyone present offered their respective formal greetings.

With a dismissive wave, Cheneys fixed Glen with a gaze full of cold, crushing pressure. His voice dropped to a dangerous low. "It appears it is you, boy. Tell me. Who granted you the audacity to touch my son?"

Glen merely chuckled. His distaste for these self-important nobles was plain, his words unguarded. "Had a bad day. Your son seemed like excellent stress relief. So I hit him. Any objections?"

The sheer audacity of the statement caused widespread shock. Eyes widened in disbelief. Gasps escaped the maids hiding in the distance.

The boy's utterly mad! Lord Kuro thought, nearly tugging his beard off in astonishment.

"Good... Very good!" Cheneys's face contorted, crimson with rage.

Beside him, Lavelle and Sophia trembled violently, their eyes promising Glen a slow, painful death.

Had a noble of equal standing spoken such words, their anger might have been tempered. But the man before them, clad in simple attire, was a peasant – countless rungs below them on the social ladder. Such blatant disregard for noble status, coming from his lips, was an unbearable insult.

Enraged beyond reason, Lady Sophia suddenly lashed out. She snatched a knight's sword from the nearest man-at-arms's grip and swung it wildly towards Glen's face!

Cheneys, still consumed by fury, reacted too slowly. His shout to stop her came a fraction too late.

The clumsy attack posed no threat to Glen. He simply raised a hand and caught the blade's flat surface mid-swing. His fingers clamped shut like a vise. The razor-sharp edge failed utterly to even scratch his skin. No matter how fiercely Sophia strained and pulled, the captured sword remained immobile, frozen in his grasp.

"Barbour! Get her away! Now!" Cheneys, suddenly regaining a measure of cold clarity, yelled frantically at his knight commander.

But Barbour, hearing the command, stood rooted to the spot. Beads of cold sweat sprouted on his palms.

Only a Knight of the First Order like himself understood what this peasant's display truly signified. Such precise, effortless control over muscle and movement indicated power at least equal to his own. Lady Sophia's life hung utterly in this commoner's grasp!

"Milord," Barbour's voice was tight with warning. "We cannot engage. This boy... he is formidable."

The words struck Cheneys like a physical blow, momentarily emptying his mind of coherent thought.