Chapter 226: Might As Well Let Her Know She's Doing Fine
"And who might this be?"
As Steven sized up the girl dubbed the "Whislash Knight," she was doing the same to him—quietly, curiously. That question flickered in her golden eyes, the same one everyone seemed to ask the first time they laid eyes on him:
What species is this guy supposed to be?
No defining features, no telltale signs, no animalistic traits or elemental flairs. In a world where even your tail could give away your entire bloodline, Steven's lack of distinctiveness had somehow become the most distinct thing about him.
After all, most people hadn't even heard of the nation called Ægir, let alone realized that Steven was just a plain old human.
"Nice to meet you," Steven said with a grin. "I'm your newest fan. Call me Steve."
It was, as always, his go-to alias. Although it's just a one word difference from his real name, he rarely ever gives his real name, not unless he trusts the other party.
The girl raised a brow. "My fan? You don't look like one."
She gave him a quick once-over—not with hostility, but with that casual skepticism that came from experience. And she had a point. He hadn't come running up asking for an autograph. He wasn't gawking or blushing or acting like he'd just seen a goddess walk in. Honestly, he looked more like a guy who'd just bumped into someone random on the street.
"Well, like I said—new fan. I was curious what the Radiant Knight's aunt would be like in person."
Steven offered a lazy smile.
He was far past the age of idol-chasing. Claiming to be a fan? Just a line he used in casual conversation. But the curiosity? That was genuine. He was curious what kind of person this "Whislash Knight" really was.
At first glance, she definitely didn't carry Nearl's gallant, radiant aura. No—this girl was more like a breeze in spring: youthful, nimble, almost... girlish.
Which was weird.
She was Nearl's aunt, wasn't she? Shouldn't it be the other way around?
"You talk like you know Margaret personally," the girl muttered under her breath, brushing a golden lock behind her ear. Her tone had a hint of nostalgia.
"...Well, we've met a couple times. Sort of," Steven said, scratching the back of his head.
Now that he was literally talking to Nearl's family, he figured he might as well send a message along—just to let them know she was doing fine. Nothing too detailed. Nearl hadn't exactly been secretive about her identity back at Rhodes Island, so this shouldn't cause her any problems.
"Wait—you know Margaret?"
This time, the bearded man known as Old Knight and the bald bartender both perked up, visibly shaken.
So that's why he had looked so stunned at the photo earlier—it wasn't admiration, it was recognition.
"Yeah," Steven replied casually. "She's doing well, actually—working at a medical organization now. She's got reliable comrades at her side, and judging by the look on her face when we talked, I'd say she's living a pretty peaceful life."
He thought back to that moment when Nearl's expression lit up—when she realized he could help treat Nightingale. That kind of smile didn't come from someone burdened by hardship. That was the kind of joy only someone surrounded by hope and support could show.
No matter how unfairly she was exiled from Kazimierz, she hadn't lost herself in bitterness.
If anything, she'd found something new—comrades, a cause… maybe even a place to belong.
It's like a blessing in disguise.
"R-Really…?"
Zofia—the so-called Whislash Knight—practically skipped over to Steven's side, her graceful image from the broadcast replaced by the bubbly energy of an excited older sister who had just heard news about her long-lost sibling. The elegant, composed warrior he saw on screen? Nowhere in sight. In her place was a girl with wide, sparkling eyes and a bright, hopeful face.
"Why would I lie about something like this?" Steven said with a light chuckle. "But if you don't believe me… hmm, let me think. How could I prove I've actually met her?"
He tapped his chin, digging through his memories of Nearl—Margaret. There had to be something small, something real, something only someone who had spoken to her would know.
"…Oh, right. She had this catchphrase. Kinda cheesy, honestly. But most of the patients at that medical company really liked it."
He cleared his throat and, with a tone of confident resolve, mimicked her voice as best he could:
"To be a knight is to be the noble light that illuminates the land."
The moment he finished, Zofia froze—then lit up with an even deeper surge of emotion.
That line. That voice. It was her. It had to be. Not only was the phrase spot-on, but Steven had somehow captured the unique strength and sincerity in Margaret's tone—a sense of someone who truly believed in her ideals.
And that was what made Nearl different from those who postured or spouted heroic lines to sound cool. When she spoke about light and justice, she meant it. That raw sincerity had left a strong impression on Steven the first time he heard it. Anyone willing to sacrifice for their ideals—he believed—deserved genuine respect.
Zofia's hands rose to her chest, pressing gently over her heart as she took a shaky breath to calm herself. Her expression softened, and her glowing eyes turned once more to Steven—now with full trust.
If he could say something like that in that exact way, there was no doubt.
Margaret… was doing well.
And with that, Zofia could finally stop worrying.
She exhaled deeply, then gave a relieved smile. Her gaze toward Steven shifted—no longer suspicious, but filled with appreciation.
This young man… he must've shared some kind of real connection with Margaret.
"Well then," she said warmly, "thank you. Truly. Hearing that she's doing well lifts a huge weight off my heart."
She dipped her head slightly in a gesture of thanks, and then, with a smile that lit up the dim tavern, extended her hand toward him.
"I forgot to introduce myself earlier. You can just call me Zofia."
Steven accepted her handshake with natural ease, giving a polite nod in return.
"No worries," he replied. "Honestly, I think she'd be glad to send her regards if she had the time. She's just… really busy right now."
And that wasn't a lie. Nearl really is tied up—focused on preparing for Nightingale's surgery, scrambling to get everything in order. She barely had time to rest, let alone write letters back home.
Besides, based on what that Sarkaz named Shining had told him, Nearl's return to Kazimierz wouldn't be a simple family visit. No… if she came back, it would be to shake the foundations of the place.
The timing just wasn't right.
"Don't worry, don't worry!" Zofia waved it off, smiling even brighter. "Just hearing that she's okay—that alone is the best news I've had in years."
She turned to the bartender, raising her voice with excitement.
"Old Marcin! Bring out the best fresh brew we've got! This news is better than my win today—I say it's cause for celebration!"
As she laughed, the joy radiating from her was unmistakable. Zofia wasn't smiling out of politeness—she genuinely cared about Nearl, thought of her not just as family, but as someone deeply important.
And for Zofia, that one simple message of peace was more than enough.
"Well then… Steve, was it?" Zofia turned to him with a teasing smile, her tone light. "So the whole reason you came to talk to me was just for that news you brought?"
She tilted her head thoughtfully, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes.
"If you're actually interested in the Kazimierz Major, I could thank you properly. I've got a few extra passes for the upcoming matches I'll be participating in. Nothing too fancy, just some friendship tickets—seating is limited, after all."
It wasn't a huge offer, but it was heartfelt. The news he brought was enough to lift a boulder from her chest—she had to give him something in return. That was just how Zofia did things.
Steven gave a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his head.
Free tickets were nice and all—he definitely wouldn't say no—but he hadn't forgotten why he'd come to this bar in the first place.
Sure, Zofia looked like she came from money, the kind of girl who'd never had to check a price tag in her life. But he wasn't about to hit her up for cash. He had standards, after all.
Still… someone in this city needed to be generous enough to help him loosen a few coin purses. His wallet wasn't just empty—it was crying.
"Oh, I'd be happy to check out the matches," he replied. "But truth be told… I've got something else I'm even more curious about."
"Something more interesting than the Major?" Zofia raised an eyebrow. "You're a tourist, right? Most people come to the Grand Knight Territory just for the games. Unless…"
She leaned in slightly, conspiratorially.
"Let me guess—you're a hardcore fan of one of the knights. Want to get the inside scoop? Like… the super popular Whislash Knight, maybe?"
Steven chuckled and waved a hand. "No, no, nothing like that."
He glanced around the bar, making sure it was just the four of them—himself, Zofia, the grizzled bearded man Old Knight, and the bald bartender. Once satisfied, he leaned in a bit closer and lowered his voice.
"It's more like… I'm curious about this so-called 'General Chamber of Commerce' you folks keep mentioning. Judging by Old Knight's reaction earlier, it doesn't sound like they have the best reputation."
Zofia's eyes sharpened a bit, her lighthearted smile fading into something a little more serious.
"I know it might not mean much coming from a tourist," Steven continued, "but I can't help wondering… if certain businesses are really pushing things too far, doesn't anyone hold them accountable?"
His eyes flicked toward the door—his voice just above a whisper now.
"From what I've seen… it feels like the entire Grand Knight Territory is under the General Chamber of Commerce's thumb. Isn't it dangerous, letting merchants hold so much power?"
The moment the words left his mouth, a chill settled into the air. The expressions of the other three stiffened—faint, but unmistakable.
"That's… not something you should go around saying," Zofia muttered, voice taut with caution. "But…"
She paused, then sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"If you're really just asking about what the General Chamber of Commerce is made of—its member guilds and general structure—that much I can tell you. That's not exactly a secret."
Her gaze met his again, serious this time.
"But don't repeat what you just said. Not here. Not anywhere. The General Chamber of Commerce's eyes and ears are everywhere. Far more than you'd expect."
She offered a tight, almost bitter smile.
"Curiosity's fine. But around here? It might come with a price."
<+>
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon[1]
Latest Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 274: Let's Retire[2]
Link to the latest chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/130087803?collection=55713[3]
https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=expanded[4]
[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=expanded
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/130087803?collection=55713
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/130087803?collection=55713
[4] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=expanded