Heinrich had a single thought as he met the gaze of the young lord, and that is:
'...Those eyes. It's a look I only ever see in people whose conviction is as foolish as it is absolute.'
Heinrich knew he had no right to question deeper into the young lord's decision.
But.
"If you don't mind me asking, young lord, why do you wish to become a knight?"
A foolish question, especially when posed to a descendant of a family renowned for their sword.
Yet, foolish as it was, such a question could sometimes reveal the truest answers.
"To be stronger. Is there any other reason than to desire strength?"
"What will you do once you achieve that?"
"What do you mean?"
"What happens next when you have that kind of strength you train for?"
"Ah. I…"
Words refused to come from Seven's mouth, though it's not like he didn't know the answer was.
Then again, it was a direct question. To desire strength was easy. But knowing what to do with it was another matter. In the end, a resolve without direction was little more than empty ambition.
Heinrich gave a small sigh and shook his head.
"You may be mistaken, young lord. A knight is not merely someone who swings a sword well. What does that strength mean to you?"
Heinrich had a point, a valid point that mere strength was simply not enough.
Seven replayed the question in his mind.
Aside from surviving the deathflag of Seven Hart, what comes after? He wanted strength, but strength for what?
Every knight had their own reasons why they wield a sword: Duty. Honor. Justice. legacy. Wealth. Fame.
But was that truly his reason?
No.
Then, was it because this character he had possessed was birthed into the Hart lineage, destined to follow the path of his ancestors?
No.
Is it because knights seemed so heroic like the ones he had read about in the novels?
No.
"Myself."
Seven declared, expression stoic.
"I will use my power according to my own will."
In the first place, he was thrown here against his own will.
Throw that heroic shit out the table.
There is no such thing as the stories of knights saving everyone, or grand speeches about honor and virtue. Seven wasn't here to be admired.
He was here for himself, and only for himself.
Because of the damned question posted by the author, he was here to survive. Until he could find a way back to his previous life as Seojin.
"I see."
Heinrich did not sound impressed, nor did he sound disappointed either.
'I misjudged him.'
Heinrich studied the young lord once more.
He looked ordinary at first glance, far more ordinary than his older siblings. But that was only appearance. The blood of Hart still ran through him.
Ask any descendant of Hart that same question, and they would give a nearly identical answer:
To wield power according to their own judgment.
Maybe that was also why the Harts remained the only one among the Great Four Houses to resist the kingdom all these years, holding fast to its independence.
"If that is your wish, young lord, then I have no objection."
Heinrich exhaled quietly.
"However, you must be tired from the trip to the village yesterday. Please take a moment of rest first. I will introduce you to the camp tomorrow."
"No."
"Pardon?"
"I'll start today."
"...!!"
The abrupt response from the young lord left Heinrich speechless, but he quickly recovered his composure.
"Alright. Before that, please take this for now."
Taking the iron sword Heinrich handed, Seven felt the weight was too much for his hands.
Strange though, it was said that a knight's companion is his sword, thus why did Heinrich hand it over like a mere stick?
Heinrich seemed to read his confusion.
"Please do not trouble yourself with such concerns. It is only one of the spare iron swords kept in storage."
"Aight."
Seven tightened his grip on the sword with all he could muster. He tried a swing but couldn't lift it enough.
"Mmm. You seem to have an idea about the basics of the sword, young lord. However, you are putting too much effort."
Heinrich pointed it out.
"If moderate strength is sufficient, use only moderate strength."
"You mean, like this…?"
Seven's grip was already loose enough, at least by his own judgment. It was the same way he had practiced in his room, mimicking the novels and series, swinging the sword over and over.
Heinrich still did not look satisfied.
"In that case, allow me to demonstrate. Try to block this."
Heinrich drew the scabbard from his waist and assumed a form like he was holding a sword.
Thwack!
With the simplest strike Heinrich could manage, the sword flew from Seven's hand and clattered into the snow.
"O-ow. It hurts, damn it. The fudge was that?"
Heinrich's expression remained calm.
"That is what happens when your grip is too rigid, where the impact travels straight into your forearm. You must learn to be flexible."
Seven picked up the sword again.
In novels, protagonists just pick up a sword and learn a skill, but that notion did not seem to be applicable in this setting.
Step, step.
Heinrich began to scrutinize his physique.
"Now that I look at it, your body does have a decent potential. Yet it is strange that your muscles are quite underdeveloped for your age."
"I know that already, and my muscles are something that can be improved with me being a knight cadet."
"Aha. Alright. Give me the sword back first."
"Here."
Seven handed it back.
A short amount of time later, two knights on patrol nearby arrived.
Heinrich exchanged a few words with them, and both of them stopped, dropped to one knee, and greeted Seven.
""We greet the young lord!""
They then stood and headed toward the gate to take their positions.
"Follow me."
"Aight."
Seven glanced at Iria, who was watching from the window, and then followed Heinrich to the backyard.
Behind, another pair of knights were on patrol, walking back and forth along a paved path near the stable with three horses.
They continued along the path for nearly ten minutes before the camp finally came into view.
The terrain was mostly flat and only had a few gentle slopes, but the distance still felt longer than expected.
Step, step.
Soon, they passed through the entrance set into the thick wooden wall built from whole logs.
"Please excuse the state of the training camp. The budget for proper restoration still remains limited."
Seven said nothing.
He could only feel mildly awkward, because he was, partly, responsible for that lack of funding because of his medication.
More than anything, what caught his attention were the stone lanterns burning with blue flames at each corner of the wall.
He had seen them in the village and in the manor as well.
If he remembered correctly, those were starlit lanterns.
They were magical lanterns powered by the stars of mages, releasing a scent that drove away wild beasts and possibly demons, at least according to the novel.
Humans, on the other hand, are not able to distinguish the odor the lantern emits from the normal air.
They passed by a worn cabin.
Outside it, two knights sat across each other on one bench, a rough pattern carved directly into the surface of the bench between them.
It had three squares carved inside one another, their corners and middles connected by straight grooves. Eighteen round stones rested both on and off the lines: nine black and nine white.
One knight with a white hair wore a crooked grin as he tapped a stone.
Tak, tak.
"Poor thing. Why'd ya place the white stone there, Martin?"
The bearded knight with a half shaved face scratched his head.
"What? It looked like a good move to me."
"Look here."
Tak.
The white-haired knight had three stones now aligned neatly in a row. He then flicked one of white stones away from the pattern.
"Aw. Come on, you—"
"Martin. Filip. The break's over."
Heinrich stopped in front of them, and the two knights instantly stood straight.
""Greetings, Vice Commander!""
"Sigh. Both of you help me gather the rest at the training ground."
""At once, Vice Commander!""
Heinrich tapped both of their shoulders and moved on. Within two minutes, every knight in the camp assembled in the training ground.
Low murmurs spread through them. Some wondered why they had been called together, and others focused on the unfamiliar young man standing beside Heinrich.
Heinrich stepped forward.
"Knights of Neamh."
From that word alone, the camp grew quiet.
"I know many of you are wondering who the young man behind me is."
Many of the knights envied the young man's flower boy appearance, yet compared to their sinewy bodies from all those years of training and experience, his physique looked frail.
"The one before you is none other than Seven Hart, the youngest Hart and the very young lord we all have served and protected in this manor for fifteen years."
A ripple of surprise erupted.
"For many of you, he has only been a name, but that changes today. The young lord has finally chosen to walk the path of the sword."
Heinrich ignored the murmurs that followed.
"I know some of you may have thoughts about this. However, that decision belongs to the Archduke. We are knights. Our duty is to serve and obey. "
Heinrich gestured towards Seven.
"I expect all of you to act accordingly. That is all."
Then Heinrich stepped aside and, for the first time since yesterday, where all he did was to bow, Heinrich knelt.
The knights looked at one another, although having a doubt in their hearts and minds, had no choice but to follow the action of their vice commander.
"""We greet the Young Lord!"""