Looking at the masked youth, Fie could not help but wonder...
(Why does he wear a mask...?)
However, Fie could not find it in herself to ask such a question of him.
And for good reason, too — Fie was worried that if she had done so, he would have been offended and dismissed her on the spot. Indeed, this masked youth known as Yore had a somewhat unapproachable, complicated aura.
Finishing his simple and straight introduction, Yore moved on to introduce the other members.
“I’m Conrad. Welcome, newcomer!”
First, it was the plain-faced man who gave his name, once again winking while doing so. He was young and of medium build, and possessed remarkably unremarkable facial features. Conrad did have a bright personality, however, in addition to what seemed to be a touch of hospitality, as demonstrated by the herbal tea he had offered to Fie a while ago.
Otherwise he was very much normal, without any special recognizable features — plain in every sense of the word. However, upon closer inspection, Fie had a vague sense that there was more to him than meets the eye.
(There’s something strange about him...)
Next up was the large, heavily-built man.
“...”
Wordless as usual, he instead held up a piece of paper, pointing to it before directing his thumb at himself. And then he winked. “Orbel,” the paper said.
“Orbel can’t speak. We leave the combat and weapons transport to him though, thanks to the body he was blessed with. His hobby is plant cultivation.”
As Crow added on to his explanation, Orbel took out yet another sheet of paper. It said, in clear letters: “Gardening.”
“Although it was his dream to become a knight and borrow some of the castle’s large gardens for gardening, we’re an unofficial platoon, so he can’t exactly do that.”
As such, he had taken to utilizing planters to plant many flowers instead — Crow explained, while Orbel sat with a slightly dismayed expression.
“I see...”
Upon hearing that, Fie could not help but feel sorry for him.
(If only that pavilion could be used for his purposes... That would be great.)
Although it was a small back pavilion, flowerbeds had been planted in the courtyard. However, in its long periods of disuse, much of it had all but returned to the wild. It wasn’t possible for Fie to reveal who she actually was and that she was not allowed out of the back pavilion. Also, it would be impossible for it to be loaned out to someone like Heath. In the end, it was a pointless idea.
“The flowers you have planted are very pretty, Sir Orbel. I look forward to the day where you can cultivate a full flowerbed.”
Upon hearing such a compliment, Orbel gave an embarrassed, but happy smile. Fie thought that he was quite a nice person.
“Parwick. I am this platoon’s long-range fire support.”
The eye-patched man introduced himself as such, concise in his mannerisms.
“He’s quite the archer, you see. To the point where he wouldn’t miss a target 200 meters away,” Crow added.
Fie thought that this was amazing. After all, the best archer in Daeman could only hit a target that was 120 meters away about 70% of the time — or so she had heard.
After Parwick’s introduction, the last to give his name was the middle-aged man in work overalls. In fact, he seemed to be the oldest in the platoon.
“I’m Garuge. Although I was chosen to be a knight, I make weapons and perform maintenance tasks more often. I also make tools. I don’t fight very much, see... After all, I’ve got quite a few years on me. Although I do some field engineering work from time to time.”
Garuge handed Fie a sword still in its scabbard. Its length was between that of a knife and the more commonly-utilized knight’s longsword — a perfect middle ground. It felt light and sturdy.
“A present. A gift for passing the test. For someone with your build, this length is probably the best fit. I’ve also modified her in various places so that she’s lighter. Don’t worry, though, she’s got as much strength in her as an ordinary blade.”
“Wow! Thank you very much!”
Although it was still in its scabbard, Fie attempted to swing the blade. The weight of the blade was, miraculously, not too different from the wooden sword she had used in the test, to the point where even someone like Fie could properly swing it.
Regarding the blade with sparkling eyes, Fie gladly sheathed the blade into her waist-belt.
“Let me know if you want me to make anything. If it can be made, I’ll make it for you.” Garuge’s smile had a mature edge to it.
It could be fairly assumed that the unknown mechanical constructs Fie had seen on her way in were Garuge’s creations. Fie thought that she wanted to ask him about them when she had the chance.
With this, everyone in the room was introduced.
“Well actually... There’s one more person, but he’s currently away on a special assignment. You know, a bit of an outing. I’ll introduce you when you eventually meet him.”
And so according to Crow, there was one more person in the mix. Next was Fie’s turn.
“My name is Heath, and I have been accepted into the 18th as a squire! I’m still very new at this, but I’m very glad to make your acquaintance!”
Fie bowed her head deeply, with both hands placed before her in a ceremonious manner. It felt like she was giving a typical bride’s greeting before she was to be married off.
Placing a free hand on Fie’s head, Crow added on to her introduction.
“Apparently, he was born in Teornoah. Well, that’s all I guess. Let’s all get along.”
(Huh...?)
Fie hadn’t revealed where she had been born to Crow. His proclamation didn’t line up with where Fie was actually born — in addition to not matching her fictional profile either. To begin with, she had never heard of a place called Teornoah.
“I see.”
“Understood.”
“Yeah, sure!”
However, the four knights present quickly accepted Crow’s statement as fact.
In reality, “Teornoah” was a code word used amongst knights to refer to children of illegal immigrants, children of the poor who had no nationality due to their circumstances, or children who had run into issues with the law. Although individuals who become knights are given an official citizenship in Orstoll, such is not the same for squires, who were technically illegally staying in Orstoll for the duration of their training.
As such, these children were widely referred to as “from Teornoah” by members of the Royal Knights, and they were not to be harassed for their nationality (or lack thereof) during their time as a squire.
Crow had assumed that Heath was the child of illegal immigrants, primarily due to the tattered clothing that Fie was wearing when they had first met, in addition to her thin, almost pallid features. And then there was the affair of Fie crying tears of joy upon biting down on a kebab — not to mention the dirty tricks she had employed during her bout with Gormus.
Crow had very much believed that his assumption was on point. However, now Crow had his doubts — that unique way Heath had mocked his opponent, for example. It was too clean for a gutter child — the blond hair and deep blue eyes too, almost as if he were royalty. It wouldn’t be too strange if his original country of birth had fallen, its monarchy crushed, and he had been forced to escape to another country, whereupon he then fell into poverty. All these were plausible scenarios in Crow’s mind.
(I’m sure he’s seen some stuff...)
Even Crow thought that he wasn’t quite acting like himself — to think of this pint-sized youth with such empathy. He felt that something about Heath made him want to help him.
To the Heath who was currently confused and apprehensive about this newfound nationality, Crow communicated that he would explain later, whispering in Heath’s ear.
And so Heath nodded obediently.
Fie felt overwhelmed — to Fie, all of the introduced knights so far seemed to have amazing skills or abilities. She began to question her place in this platoon, losing some confidence in herself.
“Um, I... I may not be that good with the sword, but I’ll... train hard from now on... I’ll train until I can’t anymore... And I won’t fall over again! I’ll get better in combat... So...!”
Fie had no place to belong to but here. To that end, she was trying to demonstrate her worth, somewhat desperately. To those that had saved her life, Fie swore to become an individual worth training up — her future depended on it.
“Hey, Heathy. No need to make such a hard-pressed expression, you know? Just relax.”
“That’s right. You don’t have to overdo it, you know. You’ve still got quite a while as a squire after all.”