How easy is it for a golden knight to sneak away from a heavily guarded castle like Marquis Alaric Windwalker’s?

The answer is that it’s almost effortless.

Marquis Alaric Windwalker’s castle was a masterpiece of magical craftsmanship, fortified with intricate formations capable of repelling entire groups of silver knights. Yet, for all its grandeur, it had one glaring flaw—its defenses were designed to keep intruders out, not to prevent escape. The formations, while formidable, couldn’t hinder those who wanted to leave. Even an ordinary person with enough cunning, a ladder, or a lucky opportunity at the gates could slip away unnoticed.

For a knight, especially one skilled in scaling walls and leaping from great heights, the task was child’s play. And for a golden knight? The formations and walls might as well not exist.

Furthermore, the magic barriers, calibrated to detect and repel threats at the silver level, were powerless against the raw energy of a golden knight. Either they wouldn’t detect him at all, or they’d shatter under the overwhelming force of his internal energy. This made Edric’s task laughably simple.

...

Edric—a golden knight of extraordinary skill—prepared his quiet escape. Moving unseen through shadowed halls, he avoided the patrolling guards, and when the time came, he scaled the wall with the ease of a bird taking flight.

Once outside the castle’s perimeter and in a quiet place, he retrieved a map from his satchel, identified his destination, and activated Eagle’s Wings, a spell that allowed him to take to the skies.

Although Edric could run faster than most creatures on foot, flight offered unparalleled convenience. It was one area where mages had a clear advantage over knights. A silver-level mage’s transportation methods were often more efficient than those of even a golden knight.

Knights, of course, had their own means of taking to the air. A golden knight could leap incredible distances and use artificial wings or mechanical devices to glide. There were also magical artifacts that enabled flight, but none of these could compare to the flexibility of a mage's spells. After all, a knight’s internal energy—no matter how immense—couldn’t cast spells. Only mana could.

Likewise, mana was limited in its own way. It couldn’t directly enhance physical combat. Pouring mana into a sword wouldn’t create a powerful strike, nor could it amplify strength the way a knight’s internal energy could. The two energies—mana and internal energy—were fundamentally different, each with distinct uses. Mana excelled in versatility and creativity, while internal energy dominated the realm of raw power and physical enhancement.

Edric had read of an ancient technique that supposedly allowed the fusion of mana and internal energy to create a higher form of power. However, the books provided by the Marquis were vague and fragmented, offering no concrete steps or insight into how this could be achieved. It was an intriguing possibility, but it remained little more than a tantalizing mystery for now.

...

Kaelith lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty. Sleep eluded him, as it had for several nights now. Every decision he made felt like walking on a razor’s edge, where a single misstep could mean the difference between life and death.

“Will Alaric try to outmanoeuvre me?” he wondered, his brow furrowed.

The lack of reliable information gnawed at him. Most of the spy networks in Windwalker territory were controlled by Valdrin, leaving Kaelith blind to Alaric’s movements and intentions. This made predicting Alaric’s plans nearly impossible, a frustrating handicap in a game where even the smallest advantage could tip the scales.

Currently, Alaric’s envoys were in negotiations over future trade treaties, but that process was painstakingly slow. Time was slipping through Kaelith’s fingers like grains of sand, and he couldn’t decide whether to allow the talks to continue or to send the envoys packing and prepare for an immediate assault on Windwalker’s army.

“Hello,” a voice suddenly broke the silence.

Kaelith froze. “Hmm?” His eyes darted around the dimly lit room. “Did I hear something?”

“Here!” the voice came again, clearer this time.

Kaelith’s heart raced. He sprang to his feet, snatching his sword from beside the bed. “Show yourself!” he bellowed, his voice loud enough to echo through the entire wing of the manor. He hoped the noise would alert the guards.

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A figure stepped forward from the shadows—a man with fiery red hair, piercing green eyes that seemed to glow, and a face etched with the deep lines of age.

Kaelith’s breath hitched in his throat. He had just scanned the room moments ago and seen nothing. The intruder must have used some form of magical concealment.

“I’ve already dealt with the guards outside,” the old man said calmly, his voice tinged with menace. “No one is coming to save you.”

As he spoke, he released a faint golden aura that shimmered around his body like a flame barely restrained.

Kaelith’s body reacted before his mind could process what he was seeing. His hair stood on end, his breathing faltered, and all color drained from his face, leaving him pale as parchment. His hand trembled, the sword slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground. His wide eyes were fixed on the glowing aura, a single phrase escaping his lips in a trembling whisper.

“G-Golden K-Knight…”

He collapsed to his knees, his body betraying his overwhelming fear.

The sheer power radiating from a golden knight was enough to render even the bravest warriors helpless. Golden knights were the cornerstone of any duke-level family’s strength and influence. Without them, such families would crumble under the weight of their rivals. To face one as a mere silver knight was to stare death in the face with no hope of survival.

Kaelith knew this all too well. He had no chance. If this golden knight had come with the intent to kill, there was nothing he could do to resist.

The sheer power radiating from that tiny release of golden internal energy was enough to make Kaelith’s knees buckle. His vision blurred for a moment, and he nearly fainted on the spot. Never before had he encountered a golden knight, and not even in his darkest nightmares had he imagined the difference in strength would be so insurmountable.

Standing before the old man, Kaelith felt as though an entire mountain had been placed on his back. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he couldn’t move.

The ‘old man,’ of course, was Edric. Using the skill, Flesh Control (White) to alter his facial features, he had taken on the appearance of an old man. He hadn’t bothered to change his hair or eye color; after all, who would suspect that this “elderly golden knight” was actually a fifteen-year-old boy from the Windwalker family?

“Get up,” Edric commanded, withdrawing his golden internal energy. He hadn’t expected such a dramatic reaction from a silver knight and found it mildly amusing.

Kaelith, still trembling, struggled to his feet, his head bowed in submission.

“I came here to make a deal,” Edric stated plainly.

Kaelith’s mind raced with confusion and suspicion. Why would a golden knight—one of the kingdom’s most powerful figures—personally come to negotiate with him? What could he possibly have that would warrant such attention?

He couldn't shake the thought. Lands granted to marquis-level nobles like his father rarely held resources that could interest a golden knight. Areas with valuable assets—high-ranking metals for forging swords, energy crystal mines, magic stone deposits, or fertile soil for cultivating magical plants—were always reserved for duke-level families or claimed directly by the royal family. There was simply no logical reason for a golden knight to concern himself with a marquis's territory.

“Esteemed golden knight master, please let me know what your honor desires,” Kaelith said, forcing his trembling voice to remain steady.

Deep down, he knew he had no real choice in the matter. This wasn’t a negotiation; it was a command dressed as a deal. If he refused, there was nothing stopping the old man from killing him on the spot.

Although the kingdom had laws designed to curb abuses of power, Kaelith was under no illusions. Laws were little more than guidelines when it came to the strong. A golden knight wasn’t bound by such trivialities.

Kaelith clenched his fists, feeling the weight of his helplessness. Golden knights weren’t entirely free to act as they pleased; they still had to tread carefully to avoid offending others of their rank. But Kaelith knew the truth—his death would mean nothing to any other golden knight.

With that grim realization settling in his heart, Kaelith lowered his head further and awaited the golden knight’s reply.

The old man spoke with a calm yet commanding tone, “I will help you become the Marquis of the Darkwind family. In return, you must obey my every command.”

Hearing this, Kaelith bowed deeply, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and resignation. “That is a given, my esteemed master! I will do all your honor desires without question!”

Kaelith was loyal to the Darkwind family. He wasn’t the sort of person who would sell out his family’s land or independence for personal gain. But he wasn’t a fool either. In the face of absolute power, resistance would bring only destruction, not salvation.

What troubled him most was the mystery surrounding the old man. Kaelith had no clue where this golden knight had come from.

The Bloodstone Kingdom did have laws governing even golden knights. They were not supposed to kill high-ranking nobles without justification. But Kaelith knew such laws were only as strong as the golden knights willing to enforce them. More importantly, finding a pretext for killing someone like him was far too easy.

Edric nodded, a faint smile on his face. “Valdrin will die in five days. Come to the capital then, and I will help you secure the title of Marquis.”

Then, his expression darkened, his green eyes gleaming coldly. “You are not allowed to divulge any information about me to anyone. Is that clear?”

Kaelith felt a chill run down his spine; he said, "Absolutely!"

Edric had taken every precaution to conceal his identity. Yet, even so, he couldn’t afford any loose ends. Should his presence be discovered, it might provoke an investigation by the king. While Edric doubted anyone could find him, he knew better than to underestimate the magical tools or cunning strategies at the kingdom’s disposal.

To him, the risk was worth it. Securing control over the Darkwind family was critical for his plans. With such a powerful noble house under his command, many things would become more straightforward—acquiring rare magical tomes, hiring assassins, or faking his death when needed.

With a final glance at the kneeling Kaelith, Edric disappeared into the night. His destination was clear: Valdrin’s territory. It was time to eliminate the current De Facto Marquis.