Chapter 453: Side Story: The White Dragon – Part 2

Ursuline followed their gazes with a troubled expression, just in time to see a burly man with an intimidating air enter the hall.

All of a sudden, Ursuline felt utterly small. The newcomer had pitch-black hair and golden skin, with a physique rivaling that of northerners. Even at a rough estimate, he appeared over six kevettes and one hech(Approximately 192 centimeters) tall, with strength exuding from his broad shoulders and long, agile legs.

However, it was not the man’s robust build or menacingly nimble movements that had silenced the crowd. As Ursuline watched the man approach, he could not help but grow tense.

The man was dressed too casually. His rough-hewn boots were plain, and his closely fitted black woolen tunic lacked a single stitch of embroidery. What’s more, the vest draped over it seemed to be for defensive purposes, and the thick belt and longsword at his waist was clearly not for fashion. He looked more suited for the battlefield than a banquet hall.

The only piece of formality the man had donned before entering the palace was the steel epaulet over his shoulder, which bore the mark of his knightly order.

“What in heavens are you wearing?” sighed Triton, glaring disapprovingly at his squire who now stood before him.

The man raised one eyebrow and answered brusquely, “You ordered me to wear my best garb, did you not?”

He seemed unaffected by the crowd of intense stares on him.

“This is the most expensive outfit I own,” he added.

“I never ordered you to dress for combat!” Triton snapped. “What did you do with the outfit I sent you?”

“You mean those ridiculous pieces of fabric?” The man scrunched up his nose in disgust. “I gave them to Nirtha, so they’ve likely been converted to money by now. He said he was going out to drink and left with all the men in tow.”

Triton twitched his lips as if to hurl abuse but shook his head instead. “I was a fool for leaving you to your own devices.”

“What I wear changes nothing. If anything, my dressing up will only draw ridicule for impersonating a nobleman,” the man said cynically.

Triton opened his mouth as if to refute him, but realizing that the count stood next to them, quickly closed his mouth. He cheerfully spun around and smiled as if nothing had happened.

“My, how mindless of me. Please excuse my manners. This unruly fellow is the fledgling squire you have generously agreed to witness becoming a knight. His name is Riftan Calypse.”

He then nudged the man with his elbow.

The man reluctantly took a step forward and bowed his head slightly. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“What an interesting fellow. Even more so than the rumors suggested,” the count murmured, his tone neutral.

Ursuline, however, knew his father’s words held no compliments.

Triton, also detecting the undertone in the count’s remark, gripped the man’s shoulder as he said, “I hope you will forgive him. He is still unaccustomed to the ways of the court.”

The count merely cleared his throat.

Perhaps deciding it was better to withdraw, Triton steered his subordinate aside. “It seems I’ve commandeered much of your time. We shall take our leave.”

He led the man across the banquet hall, while Ursuline watched them go. The man’s face twisted into a sulk as Triton appeared to admonish him. Ursuline was surprised by how boyish he looked.

How old was he? Surely in his early to mid-twenties, as he had yet to be knighted. Lost in thought, Ursuline was startled by his father’s serene voice.

“He’s a strikingly handsome young man.”

Ursuline looked at his father in surprise. For a brief moment, he could not place who he was referring to, because his own impression of Riftan Calypse had been so intense. Such a lukewarm descriptor hardly seemed to fit his image.

Count Ricaydo shook his head. “Still, he must learn to refine his manners lest he become a hindrance to His Majesty.”

Ursuline did not reply.

The count sighed deeply. “It appears Lord Triton intends to train up that young man to be his right hand. His Majesty is also paying special attention to him, so he must be exceptionally talented at the very least. They are both meticulous in that regard. It wouldn’t hurt to make acquaintance with him. You will find yourself working closely with the Remdragon Knights once you become an official member of the royal knights.”

“Wolfgar… wishes to make me his squire.”

“He does?” Deep lines creased the count’s forehead. He gazed down at his son with troubled eyes and asked gently, “And how do you feel about the matter?”

“If possible… I would like to join the royal knights.”

His father paused as if contemplating something before replying with a smile, “Then rest assured. I shall have a word with Wolfgar.”

Despite his father’s assurance, Ursuline remained skeptical. The count had always been soft on his eldest son. Nevertheless, Ursuline kept his thoughts to himself and simply nodded.

Shortly thereafter, the count took Ursuline around the hall to introduce him to various acquaintances. As Ursuline parroted greeting after greeting, he stole glances at Evan Triton. The viscount was also making every effort to facilitate connections for his subordinate.

Riftan Calypse, however, seemed unwilling to cooperate. A high priest was visibly upset, his face flushed red with offense at whatever the squire had said.

In the end, Triton was forced to usher him out of the banquet hall. Ursuline absentmindedly watched them leave until he was jolted by his father’s insistence and was led away to where the palace officials were gathered.

That night, Ursuline was only able to retire to his room once he had been introduced to all the important nobles at the banquet.

Once in his room, he collapsed onto his bed and only opened his eyes just before dawn. He stared up at the ceiling briefly before rising to wash and change into his freshly cleaned training uniform. Then, he strolled out of the dormitory into the dusky morning.

Inhaling the chilly air, he headed to the training grounds. It was still early, so the area was empty. After taking in his surroundings, he started toward the armory to select a sword for training. Just then, the sharp sound of clashing metal made him stop in his tracks.

Ursuline frowned. Who could be sparring with real swords at this hour? A pair of hot-blooded knights dueling at the crack of dawn to avoid getting caught?

Curious, Ursuline left the armory and headed to the sparring ground. There, inside an enclosed area, he saw two men fiercely crossing swords.

The deafening clang of metal on metal made him take a step back. Sparks flew in the pale dawn light with each collision, and a thunderous noise split the air, causing him to tense unwittingly.

“Rather pathetic for someone who’s been acting so cocky. Since when have you played it safe?”

As Ursuline descended the steps to get a closer look, he paused, recognizing the familiar voice. The morning sun rose above the walls at that exact moment to illuminate their faces.

It was the pair Ursuline had met at the banquet hall the night before — Riftan Calypse, was it not? The mixed-blood squire was sparring with his superior, wielding a longsword that emitted a blue light. He swung it in a diagonal arc.

“Didn’t you always nag at me to work on my defenses?” he challenged.

“I told you to work on your defenses, not make puppy-paw attacks like this. By God, I’ll have to train you from scratch again,” Triton admonished.

Riftan snorted loudly before making a sharp jab at his opponent. Though Triton barely dodged the attack, a devilish smile played on his lips. He appeared so belligerent that it was hard to believe this was the same man who had been so stately the night before.

“Now that’s more like it. Time to teach my impudent squire a lesson.”

Triton leaped from the ground first. His burly opponent, who had seemed incapable of being overpowered, took a few steps back to dodge the attack.

Triton did not miss the opening. His sharp blade broke through his subordinate’s defense and aimed precisely between his neck and shoulder. Riftan brought up his weapon in a parry, but Triton’s blade was already pointed at his throat.

Realizing there was no escape, Riftan furrowed his brows and admitted defeat.

“It’s your win.”

Triton slung his sword over his shoulder and laughed heartily. “It’s always a pleasure besting you. So much more satisfying than when I beat Nirtha.”

Riftan, however, appeared indifferent to his loss. As he sheathed his sword, he said stiffly, “You seem content enough, so I’ll return to my room now. I slept less than three hours because of you.”

“Not so fast. I’m not done disciplining you,” Triton said, grabbing Riftan’s shoulder as he attempted to climb over the fence. “We’ve let off some steam, so now talk. What is bothering you?”

Riftan merely looked at him as though he were speaking gibberish.

Triton sighed softly. “Your behavior has been particularly unruly these past few days. Well, it’s always been unruly, but it’s getting worse the closer we get to your knighting ceremony. What is the matter? Are you having second thoughts about becoming a knight?”

“You needn’t worry. I’m not backing out of my decision to become a Remdragon Knight.” Riftan leaned on the fence and folded his arms over his chest. “I simply don’t see why I must waste all this energy on something so pointless. I’ve already passed the Remdragons’ test. What use is there in spouting a few words before the king and a high priest?”

Triton knitted his brows at the remark. “Do you not take the oath seriously?”

“More like, I think all this talk about oaths, honor, and chivalry is plain nonsense.”

Ursuline felt something surge within him. Had he not been eavesdropping, he would have charged straight at the man.