Gerald came in with long strides, joy bright on his face at the door, eyes skimming Medith’s party like a sunbeam over steel.

Medith smiled, greeting them like old friends: "I’ve long heard your continental mercenary corps is hailed as the Radiant Knights. Seeing you today, the name shines true."

"Your warriors stand straight as pines, spirits high, aura like a drawn blade. I bet their dueling beats regular troops by miles." Her one sweep weighed their bodies like scales.

Very good—better than the crowd in her newly founded Dusk Legion. If such a trained, sharp company joined her, her power would leap like a dragon from the deep.

It’s close already, but growth still needs time, like a sapling taking rain.

"Sprite maiden, your fame isn’t hollow... Long admired. I’m Gerald Fortress Lord of Dawnlight Castle." On his near-forty face, a shy ripple broke like spring water.

Medith chuckled: "Gerald Fortress Lord, are you smitten with us? The Elf Clan is warm and hospitable. Win my sisters’ favor, and flying side by side isn’t impossible.

We’re quite open, right, Lina?"

"Uh... uh?" Lina feigned innocence, tilted her head like a curious bird, then laughed. The mercenaries stopped their hands, stood grinning, laughter rippling like wind in grain.

"Medith... you... you’re really okay..." A low, familiar male voice rolled in like distant thunder. Surprise pricked Medith’s chest before her eyes searched.

Clink, clink—armor chattered. A scar-lined uncle walked up slow. His thick beard and square face hooked her memory. "Gulo?"

Gulo smiled in thanks: "That’s me. Thanks to you, we reached the Northern Kingdom safely and returned Duke Tobyers’s daughter—Nicola—without a scratch.

The badge you gave me was a lifesaver. In a valley, danger closed like wolf jaws, and Mountain Bandits sprang an ambush. We were few. We could fight, but Miss Nicola’s safety wasn’t sure.

At the key moment, I remembered your badge. I flashed it. Before I could speak, the bandit chief yelped and bolted. The rest scattered like startled crows, tumbling away.

I’ve got to say, your name among bandits is like a demon’s shadow—cold enough to send them running."

"After that, Duke Tobyers, grateful, pressed me to stay as Nicola’s bodyguard. The pay... numbers I’d never dare dream. But I thought of my purpose, and your trust.

So I chose to return to the team. The Duke saw my resolve, pulled strings to place me under Gerald Fortress Lord. Step by step, by strength and deeds, I naturally reached captain."

A jolt ran through Medith; guilt rose like a tide. Back then she’d been careless. If Gulo’s crew had been robbed and killed, she’d carry it for life.

Luckily, the wheel turned. She’s small in the Southern Kingdom’s eyes, yet to bandits her name burns like sunlight on a ghost.

"Didn’t expect it... you’ve been tempered by plenty of fights." Sais sighed like wind through reeds. Gulo shrugged: "How could it match what you faced...

Eh, wasn’t there a beautiful elder sister that day..." Memory struck; his mouth shut like a clasp.

A trace of sorrow crept over them, then let go like mist at dawn. "The dead have passed. The living carry their will forward—also an offering.

She still reminds me how severe the price will be if I err." Medith stared at the scar on her hand, eyes drifting like a lone cloud.

Gerald exhaled, a long breath. He’d heard bits of what these women endured. Hatred in chains is the fiercest weapon; even Medith sank into it, nearly brewed disaster.

"Commander Medith, where are you headed?" Gerald shifted the current. Medith pointed to the far north like an arrow: "North, to meet the Northern King.

I have matters to discuss. Passing by, I thought I’d see you and maybe... try to fish a few people from you, haha."

Medith laughed broad as summer. Gerald chuckled: "No can do. With your skill and looks, I’d become a commander of bachelors.

But you’re here as a guest. Stay a few days? I want to learn a thing or two from you. In return, I’ll give you what you want and forge a few suits of armor. How’s that?"

Sais and the others traded looks, a silent tide. Gerald meant he’d loosen his grip and grant Medith part of his forces, in exchange for her training and formations.

Medith uses troops like a god. In Sia City, she broke ten thousand with three thousand. Against the Bloodhand Gang, she crushed Andrew’s decades-long border rule at minimal cost—famous across the realm.

Any commander wants a peek at her methods and that odd, cutting mind.

"Then I’ll gladly accept." Medith clasped Gerald’s right hand, warmth bright as firelight.