PETR, ERYN, AND I traversed the open plains, our destination set upon the horizon—the formidable Adamant Fortress. As we ventured forth, our path remained undisturbed, free from the clutches of misfortune. Perched atop a gentle hill, the fortress emerged, an imposing figure amidst the landscape.

Its grandeur revealed itself to us, fortified towers reaching skyward, their stony visage gray as if marked by the very essence of its name. Adamant walls, fifteen meters high, encircled the stronghold, a testament to its impenetrable nature. From a distance, I discerned the border it occupied, a boundary that separated the realm of humans from the desolate wasteland of red, charred earth.

It stood resolute, a guardian declaring to the world, "Here lies the demarcation between the dominion of mankind and the realm of monstrous creatures."

The lineage of the Adamant Knights could be traced back to the valiant Lumeos, who waged a fierce war against the fiends over a century ago. Charged with the solemn duty of safeguarding Maridal Village and its surroundings from the encroaching threat of monsters, the Adamant Knights had long been revered as custodians of the borderlands.

However, Petr confided in us that the spirits of the knights had been dampened by the waning appearances of fiends in the past decade. Morale had plummeted, and the specter of concern began to cast its shadow over my own heart.

Our arrival at the fortress only served to intensify our shared trepidation. Seeking an audience with the captain of the knights, we were escorted through the twin gates and ushered into what appeared to be a conference room. Yet, despite our status as guests, the figure awaiting us within was not the captain we anticipated. Instead, we were met by a middle-aged man, Edward by name, who presented himself as a strategist of the fortress.

"As a renowned adventurer, I have faith that you speak the truth," Edward's voice droned on, devoid of interest. Yet, it was evident that he harbored doubts, believing our words to be naught but falsehoods. "However," he continued, "I have reservations."

"I could fathom your skepticism if it were solely Petr who brought forth this tale. But do you dare insinuate that I, Eryn, esteemed as the fifth rank of the Vandaris Weavers' Guild, would stoop to propagate a fabrication?" Eryn's hands found their place on her hips as she fixed a piercing gaze upon the strategist.

Caught in the crossfire of Eryn's allure, noble bearing, and her esteemed weaver status, Edward's brow dampened with a cold sweat. "N-No, certainly not. It's just that... when you speak of this man petrifying a weaver and commanding meteors to rain from the heavens... forgive me for finding such claims nothing short of preposterous."

Petr interjected, seeking an alternative course. "Is there no avenue to directly converse with the captain of the knights? And if not, might we secure an audience with the commander of the first company?"

"Captain Armand Stevenson is presently indisposed, plagued by health ailments," Edward responded, his voice tinged with a hint of inconvenience. "As for Commander Albert, he is currently engaged in patrolling duties."

Both Petr and Eryn endeavored to elucidate the nature of my magical abilities and the appearance of the legion, yet Edward remained resolute in dismissing their assertions without a hint of earnest consideration.

I had not anticipated such unwavering rejection... What recourse remained to us? My gaze flitted towards Petr, searching for a solution.

"In that case," Petr declared, his tone resolute, "we shall bide our time until Albert's return."

"I regret to inform you that you may not lodge within the castle without explicit permission from one of the commanding officers," Edward replied with a touch of finality.

"Tch."

Did Petr just click his tongue in frustration?

Petr, bless his stubborn soul, wasn't one to easily navigate the realm of hard-headed individuals. In such situations, I typically stepped in, ready to engage in persistent and long-winded negotiations. However, it appeared that Eryn had a different plan in mind.

"Why don't we simply barge into the captain's room?" she proposed, her suggestion cutting through the tension.

It seemed I had overestimated my own potential involvement. Eryn's straightforward approach left me pondering the need for my own intervention. However, considering the volatile nature of both Eryn and Petr, I surmised that their fuses were more likely to ignite before any resolution could be reached.

"Excuse me, but I advise you to reevaluate the credentials of this man," I interjected, hoping to redirect the conversation. "Are you insinuating that he is a swindler? Do you truly believe I would be so easily deceived?"

This stalemate was leading us nowhere, as I concluded with a resigned sigh. Just then, one of the doors swung open with a resounding slam.

A colossal figure strode into the room, resembling nothing short of a seasoned wrestler. His sheer size appeared to exceed three hundred pounds, and it was a marvel that his armor managed to contain his immense form. Judging by his countenance, he appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties.

"What in Preservation's name is transpiring here, causing such commotion within my fortress?" His words rang out, leaving no room for ambiguity. Pray, let this not be the captain, I silently pleaded.

"Sir Gilbert, the castle is under the jurisdiction of the order, not an individual," Edward hastily explained.

It came as no surprise that the icy glares from both Petr and Eryn immediately chilled the air, but what surprised me was the cool disdain with which even the strategist, Edward, treated him. Clearly, he was not the captain, yet his overbearing arrogance remained unmistakable.

"What did you say?" Sir Gilbert's voice thundered, his tone dripping with indignation. "I am a direct descendant of the very founder of this esteemed order, Gideon Adamant! Need I remind you of the order's name itself? The Adamant Knight Order! It is clear as day that this fortress is rightfully mine!"

Edward's response carried an air of authority. "Our charter contains no such provision. Sir Gilbert, you hold the position of a mere company commander."

Ah, I couldn't help but appreciate the unintentional enlightenment. I had encountered individuals of this sort in the corporate world from time to time. Strike at their pride, and they become susceptible to manipulation.

"Brother!" a new voice interjected, resounding with disapproval. A figure barged into the room, effortlessly pushing Gilbert aside. Clad in armor less adorned than Gilbert's, she possessed a wild mane of red hair, marking her as a knight of lower standing than both Gilbert and Edward.

Wait. Did she just say "Brother"?

"Petr, Eryn, I must apologize on behalf of my impetuous brother," the knight addressed us with a hint of regret.

"It's quite all right," Eryn responded, her voice carrying a soothing tone.

"Lin, perfect timing," Petr acknowledged. "Please, lend us your ear. Fiends have emerged, and we suspect a large nest lies at the root of their incursion."

Petr and Eryn seemed acquainted with this knight. Lin, was it? Her name echoed in my mind.

"What?!" exclaimed Lin, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Are you serious?!" Sir Gilbert interjected, his voice brimming with excitement.

"Fiends? Fiends! And you claim there's a nest? Excellent! Tell us where it is! The Adamant Knights and I will crush them without hesitation!" Gilbert's fervor emanated from every word he uttered.

"Petr, if what you say is true, we cannot afford to disregard this matter," Lin stated with a resolute tone, her eyes focused on Petr.

"Sir Gilbert, Lady Linden, you mustn't give credence to their outlandish claims. Their story is nothing short of absurd!" Edward interjected, his voice tinged with disdain.

Silence settled upon the room, heavy with the weight of the three knights' vastly contrasting reactions. Petr and Eryn found themselves at a loss for words. While Gilbert and Linden exhibited clear interest in delving further into the matter of the fiends, Edward, the one wielding the greatest authority, persisted in his attempts to drive us away.

I suppose I have no choice, I contemplated. Reluctant as I was, it was time to assume the guise of a formidable and powerful wielder of magic.

"Greetings, Sir Gilbert and Lady Linden," I declared, rising from my seat with deliberate grace. Placing my hand over my heart, I executed a bow, praying that my outward appearance exuded more confidence than I truly felt within.

"Who in Preservation's name are you?" Sir Gilbert retorted, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you one of Petr's recruits? Although, 'new' might be a stretch considering your age, Pops."

Linden, the red-haired knight, directed her attention to me. "Judging by your appearance, I assume you are a weaver, good sir. But what brings you to our fortress?"

"I apologize for any confusion, but you are mistaken. I am none other than the Archmage, Emberus Blazeus Xandros," I announced, emphasizing my grandiose title.

Gilbert and Linden exchanged a glance. If they truly were siblings, their connection seemed stronger than their apparent bickering suggested, I mused.

"Yes," Petr intervened, seeking to clarify matters. "With his formidable magic, he single-handedly vanquished a weaver leading a bandit group in the treacherous mountains and decimated an entire army of fiends before they could lay siege to our humble village."

"What?!" Gilbert's disbelief was palpable.

"I am starting to comprehend why some might find your tale implausible," Linden chimed in.

"Should doubts persist regarding my abilities, there is no need for words. Allow my power to speak for itself," I calmly responded, deliberately extending my arm and pointing to a spot on the floor.

While the Adamant siblings, Gilbert and Linden, along with Edward, regarded me with dubious gazes, I refrained from reacting and initiated my incantation.

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"By the repercussions of this spell, I summon forth the statue in my possession. Recall," I intoned, channeling my magical energy.

The air just above the designated spot on the floor warped and shimmered. Gradually, the indistinct gray haze solidified, revealing the unmistakable form of the Karyon statue. Through the use of Recall, I summoned the very statue we had concealed amidst the verdant bushes outside Maridal Village. As always, the statue depicted Karyon's visage, contorted in a visage of terror.

"What?!" Edward gasped, his astonishment laid bare for all to see.

Gilbert stood there, utterly dumbfounded, while Linden recoiled with a piercing shriek. It appeared that my "Grand Archmage Demonstration: Part 1" had achieved the desired effect.

"This scoundrel," I elucidated, gesturing toward the transformed figure, "is the leader of a notorious bandit gang that targeted the caravan of Leo, a respected merchant hailing from Vandaris City. They kidnapped his daughter, subjecting him to immense anguish. I present him to you so that he may face the consequences of his actions, as dictated by your laws."

Truth be told, I was uncertain whether the order of knights possessed the authority to adjudicate crimes or administer justice. I may have gotten a tad carried away.

"However, in his current petrified state, extracting information or holding him accountable for his misdeeds would prove quite challenging. Allow me to rectify that. Through this spell, all mana within a three-meter radius shall be returned to the void. Dispel Magic."

With a flourish, I cast a second spell, dissolving the petrification that had befallen Karyon. A brilliant light enveloped the statue, only to dissipate as swiftly as it had manifested. What remained was a feeble, disoriented man, collapsed upon the floor.

"Rgh... Ahh... Augh," he groaned incoherently.

The restoration of the statue back into its human form seemed to elicit a more profound reaction from the audience than the mere conjuring of the object itself. The three knights stood there, mouths agape, observing Karyon's feeble state as he lay helpless, unable to articulate coherent words or even rise to his feet.

Petr and Eryn, though less overt in their expressions, appeared equally astounded. Magic possessed the capacity for more than mere destruction, as they were now witnessing firsthand.

"The...the statue...transformed into a human..."

"But...you...how...?"

Their disjointed utterances mirrored the bewilderment that shrouded their thoughts.

"Am...amazing..."

I proceeded to walk unhurriedly in front of the trio, their minds still ensnared by astonishment, and approached Karyon. No need for haste. I took measured steps, acknowledging a twinge of guilt as I beheld his vacant, unfocused gaze. Yet, I quelled the pang, extending my hand to retrieve my Staff from his grasp.

"This artifact is mine," I asserted, my words directed at Gilbert, who stood there perspiring profusely. Upon closer observation, I noticed he had positioned himself in front of the red-haired knight, as though shielding her from any perceived harm. Perhaps he possessed redeeming qualities after all, I mused.

"To reiterate," I commenced, enunciating each syllable with meticulous care, "I am Archmage Emberus Blazeus Xandros. I humbly request an audience with the esteemed captain of the renowned Adamant Knights or any suitable representatives of your esteemed order. Our discussion pertains to the imminent threat posed by fiends that currently plagues these lands. If necessary, I am prepared to await the proper consideration of my request here."

My speech unfolded deliberately, weighted with utmost gravity. With the conclusion of my final utterance, I emphatically tapped the bottom of my staff against the floor.

"I trust you shall procure the requisite permissions," I declared.

All three knights nodded their heads with alacrity.

Given that Albert, the captain's son, would not return until the following day, we found ourselves compelled to spend the night within the confines of Adamant Fortress.

Nightfall descended swiftly upon the city of Dravus, its early arrival dictated by the scarcity of lamp oil that forced most residents to seek slumber soon after sunset. Edward, our guide within the Adamant Castle, led us to a modest guest room, ensuring Eryn had a partition for some semblance of privacy.

Sleep eluded me, and in my restlessness, I turned to Petr, seeking further illumination on the enigmatic Adamant Knights. With an air of eager anticipation, he readily obliged, settling into a chair beside the crackling hearth. The warm glow of the fire cast dancing shadows upon his face, lending him the air of a natural-born raconteur.

"Once known as the Sunrise Prairie, the charred expanse to the east of Adamant Fortress is now referred to as the Dusk Frontier. Delving into the tale behind this change in nomenclature shall grant you a glimpse into the storied history of the Adamant Knights," Petr began.

He wove a narrative that stretched back a century and a half, to the time of Gideon Adamant, the revered founder and inaugural captain of the renowned order. In those days, when the second cataclysmic fiend outbreak loomed ominously, Gideon Adamant and his Lumeos Knights stood as a bulwark against the encroaching hordes, emerging triumphant from countless battles.

Gideon's heroism earned him adulation in Lumeos, prompting the kingdom to acquiesce to the fervent public demand. Thus, an independent order of knights was granted existence, charged with safeguarding the borderlands. As a testament to his valor, Valor Keep was bequeathed to Gideon, its location nestled within the heart of the Sunrise Prairie.

However, three decades hence, the Necrotide Onslaught struck like a malevolent tempest. Legions of the undead surged forth, their motivations shrouded in mystery, and Valor Keep fell under the relentless assault. Whispers abound regarding Gideon's fate: some claim he perished defending the fortress, while others contend he succumbed and now roams the land as one of the unliving. The remaining members of the knightly order and the displaced denizens of the prairie retreated westward, where they erected a new bastion—the Adamant Fortress. With unwavering resolve, they swore an oath to protect the land from both fiends and the scourge of undeath.

While they have dutifully upheld their solemn pledge, it is said that the forsaken Valor Keep remains a haunted edifice, plagued by lingering specters of the undead—though such accounts may be little more than spectral rumors and superstitious whispers that cling to its forsaken halls.

"And thus, the Sunrise Prairie transformed into the Dusk Frontier," Petr concluded his tale with a somber tone, the weight of history hanging in the air.

I couldn't help but voice my thoughts, softly murmuring, "So, the taint of undeath reaches even these lands." Swiftly realizing my momentary lapse, I refocused my attention on the matter at hand.

"From what you've shared," I pressed on, "it seems that two centuries past, the outbreak of undeath drove the Adamant Knights from their ancestral domain, claiming the life of their first captain. Is it then the reason why the order no longer bears the name of Adamant? Was the family held accountable for the initial captain's failure, thus losing their hold on power?"

Petr shook his head, countering my assumption. "No, there is another reason for that," he clarified. "Around fifteen years ago, if I recall correctly, the captain of that time sought to reclaim Valor from the clutches of the undead. Despite strong opposition, he pressed forward with his ill-fated plan..."

Understanding dawned upon me. "Ah, I see."

Eryn chimed in, joining our conversation. "It turned into a complete and utter disaster," she interjected. "Not only that, but the losses incurred during that ill-fated expedition severely hindered the knights' ability to mount an effective resistance when the fiends' nest was discovered five years later."

Petr nodded, adding further context. "Indeed, and that ill-fated captain was none other than Gilbert's father," he revealed. "Removed from his position, he is but a mere shadow of his former self, so they say."

Such tales of hubris and misguided ambition echoed the corporate world's fables, where managers gambled their organizations' fates on grand projects destined for failure. I couldn't help but draw a parallel, understanding the motivations behind the boisterous siblings. They were members of a once-proud lineage, striving to reclaim the power that had rightfully belonged to their family. To compound their hardship, their own father had been the architect of their downfall. It must be an arduous path they walk, likely drawing the ire of their fellow knights. Perhaps that is why Gilbert feels compelled to assert dominance with such fervor.

"To be young," I muttered under my breath, not in a tone of mockery but rather tinged with a hint of sorrow. I pitied them, yet I couldn't help but feel a touch of envy for their youthful vigor.

Petr and Eryn, however, did not share my wistful sentiments, particularly when it came to Gilbert.

"While I sympathize with Linden, Gilbert deserves whatever scorn he receives," Eryn declared with a firmness in her voice.

"Perhaps... but children do not choose their parents," I interjected, offering a more nuanced perspective.

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that matter. No justification can excuse his deplorable conduct," Eryn retorted, casting a quizzical glance my way, questioning my continued sympathy for Gilbert.

Shifting the conversation, Petr interjected, "By the way, Sir Stevenson, the current captain of the knights, was formerly the vice-captain."

"He is a man of great wisdom," added Eryn, "and although his son, Sir Albert, may not possess the same commanding presence as his father, he is an exceptional knight. I have no doubt that he will lead his fellow knights in resolving this predicament."

The power structure within the Adamant Knights began at the pinnacle with the captain, followed by a council of advisors, and then the four commanders of each company, ranked from one to four. Albert, the captain's son, held the esteemed position of commander of the first company, while Gilbert commanded the second.

Captain Stevenson, being advanced in years, was expected to retire from his position soon, yet his successor had not been determined. The two prominent candidates vying for the esteemed mantle were none other than Albert and Gilbert themselves, each harboring ambitions to ascend to the captaincy.

"You're telling me that Gilbert is considered a viable candidate... Is he genuinely popular?" I inquired, a tinge of incredulity coloring my voice.

"Well, he is a direct descendant of the order's founder," Petr responded, his tone carrying a hint of explanation. "And in the eyes of some, his prowess with a blade surpasses that of any other knight."

"I beg to differ. Linden, even if she refuses to acknowledge it, outshines him in skill. But both of them undoubtedly possess more influence than Albert. It's hardly a competition," Eryn chimed in, expanding upon the topic.

It seemed that raw power held significant sway in the city of Dravus.

"That female knight... Linden Adamant, or is it Lin? Tell me more about her," I pressed, curiosity piqued.

"Linden Adamant is Gilbert's younger half-sister," Petr clarified. "They share a father but have different mothers. Frankly, I'm astonished they have any common blood between them."

"While her brother may falter, Linden is a true knight. She holds the position of lieutenant commander in the second company. However, her experience is somewhat lacking..." Eryn added, offering further insight.

It appeared that Gilbert bore the brunt of everyone's disdain, I mused, just as a knock resounded at the door.

"Forgive the intrusion, Lord Petr, Lady Eryn, Master Mage. Are you still awake?" It was Linden's voice from behind the door.

I anticipated Petr to respond, yet as I glanced at him, he merely stared back, leaving me to address the visitor.

"Yes, I am awake. Pray tell... Aherm. Is there something you require?" I attempted to infuse grandeur into my words, but my voice faltered, betraying my lack of confidence. Eryn struggled to suppress her amusement, her mouth twitching with the effort.

Well, I am doing my best, you know?

"Thank the heavens. Could you please open the door? I apologize for the late hour, but dinner has been prepared, and we would be grateful for your presence," Linden requested.

Dinner...

I hadn't anticipated being invited to partake in a meal, having already satisfied my hunger for the night. However, declining the offer would be impolite, wouldn't it?

"I am not particularly hungry, but I appreciate your hospitality. I shall attend," I decided, acting without consulting Petr. When I glanced at him, he responded with a smirk before moving to open the door. As it swung open, Linden stood before us, holding a candlestick that cast a soft glow upon her face. She possessed a striking beauty, her intense eyes capturing my attention for a moment. Regrettably, her expression seemed rigid, betraying her nervousness.

"It seems Lord Xandros will be delighted to join. Are we also invited?" Petr inquired, offering his assistance.

"Thank you. My brother will be most pleased," Linden replied, then turned to Petr. "And yes, you are welcome as well."

"My brother will be happy"? Could it be that the one hosting this dinner is...

"Hey there, Lord Mage! Help yourself to as much as you want! I personally selected the castle chef, you know. The man's truly talented, don't you think?!" Gilbert's voice boomed across the room.

"Uh-huh..."

Unfortunately, my prediction proved accurate. Gilbert awaited us at the table as we entered the dining hall.

The expansive table groaned under the weight of steaming plates, each brimming with food. There was barely any space left between the dishes, a befitting display for the colossal knight. I found myself seated at Gilbert's end of the table, subjected to his interpretation of lavish hospitality. It became evident that his notion of entertaining guests centered primarily around providing them with delectable food. I must admit, everything was truly delicious, but still...

"This chicken is marinated in kumis overnight before being roasted. Isn't the meat tender? It practically melts in your mouth!" Gilbert exclaimed.

"Yes... It is indeed delicious... Ngh..." I managed to reply between bites. The chicken thigh impressed me with its succulence and a delicate blend of sweet and sour flavors. However, I had already surpassed my limit.

"Brother, stop forcing more food on him. It's impolite. Can't you see he doesn't want any more?" Linden interjected, her voice filled with exasperation.

"Shut your mouth! We're having an important conversation here!" Gilbert retorted.

What part of anything you've said could be considered important?

Yet, if I viewed it from a different angle, these knights were our current sponsors, and hadn't I just been sympathizing with their misfortunes moments ago? I suppressed my instinct to protest. Perhaps this was an opportunity to capture their attention with a couple of well-executed magic tricks...

...or maybe not.

Just as I was relying a little too heavily on my survival instincts from corporate dinners, I noticed Petr and Eryn subtly signaling me with their eyes. It was time to conclude this affair.

"That was an incredibly delicious meal, but I simply couldn't eat another bite," I declared, washing down the last remnants of meat with a sip of wine.

"Gilbert, would you kindly proceed and share your thoughts? Lord Xandros is growing weary," Petr urged.

"We cannot afford to waste Lord Xandros's precious time with trivial banter," added Eryn.

Petr and Eryn piled on Gilbert, ostensibly in my defense, but it was evident that they were seizing the opportunity to vent their frustrations.

"Silence! A pair of wretched adventurers have no right to speak to me in such a manner!" Gilbert roared, slamming his fists onto the table and grinding his teeth.

"Brother! That is enough!" Linden shouted, and without warning, she delivered a forceful punch to Gilbert's face, the impact resonating with the clatter of bones—a perfect jab from a skilled pugilist.

What kind of relationship do these siblings share? Petr and Eryn don't seem fazed... Is this their normal dynamic?

"Please accept our apologies, Lord Xandros," Linden pleaded, placing her hand over her heart as she bowed to me. "I implore you to stay and hear what my brother has to say."

"Hmph!" Gilbert grunted, his bruised face already showing signs of discoloration, before downing his glass of wine as if nothing had happened.

"Very well," I responded. "I will listen, provided he begins without further delay."

A part of me yearned to reprimand Gilbert for making his sister apologize on his behalf or to demand that he meet my gaze. However, Linden's solemn plea held greater sway over me.

Once Gilbert had drained his glass, he finally turned his attention towards me.

"It's a straightforward proposition, Lord Mage. I have decided to offer you the opportunity to become one of my subordinates!"

Ah, leave it to him to utter such preposterous words, as if they carried weight and importance.

I found myself momentarily speechless, my mind reeling from the audacity of Gilbert's proposition. Without turning my head, I glanced towards Petr and Eryn. Petr expressed his frustration with a disappointed click of his tongue, while Eryn's forehead pulsated with a prominent vein, a menacing smile tugging at her lips.

"Apologies, but I must decline," I finally replied. In that moment, my act slipped slightly, but under the circumstances, who could blame me?

"What?! Are you suggesting that you would reject the invitation of the heir to the Adamant family?!" Gilbert bellowed, sweeping his bulky arms across the table, causing plates to clatter in his wake.

"At present, I have no desire to serve under any master."

If I had been subjected to such a verbal assault back in America, I likely would have struggled to maintain my composure, becoming as helpless as a deer caught in the glow of headlights. In fact, that was precisely how I had fared against the bandits. Yet, even though it had only been my third day in Dravus, it seemed that I had already begun to develop a thicker skin.

"What did you say?! I am an Adamant!" Gilbert exclaimed, his fist clenched.

"Brother!" Linden interjected swiftly.

"What? Ah! Ow! S-stop!"

She promptly seized his arm, twisted it behind his back, and proceeded to drag him out of the room as he writhed in pain.

"Ow, ow, ow! Lin! Sis, you can't just—oww!!!"

"I apologize, Master Mage! Petr, Eryn, I had no idea he was planning something like this... I will extend a proper apology to you later!" Linden paused to bow her head repeatedly, while Gilbert cursed and futilely struggled against her grip.

And then, she hauled him away.

"I knew it would be something foolish," muttered Petr, seizing the opportunity to pour himself another glass of exquisite wine before we departed.