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Johnny, who was serving nearby, watched as Redman walked away and quickly asked his boss, "Boss, does Lord Redman mean we're going to war?"
John cast a mysterious glance at him. "What do you think?" he replied before heading into the tent.
"What do I think?" Johnny scratched his head in confusion. He felt that war was indeed on the horizon; both lords seemed strange.
Inside the tent, John sat training, stretching his body while pondering Redman's words. From what Redman had said, John understood that Redman was aware of the implications behind his words. It seemed that Redman had received news from the White Family, and things were stabilizing. At least Redman's official status as a noble was secure; he just wondered if he could handle it.
There was no point in overthinking it; ultimately, it depended on the relationship between the two of them. He hoped Redman would be a good boss rather than just a good noble.
In a courtyard at Iron Will Fortress, twenty Ironclad Guards were resting while inside, Redman was chatting with a middle-aged bald man.
"Uncle, how's everything going?"
The man responding to Redman was his uncle, George White, a forty-three-year-old Knight Attendant who had condensed Knight Seed into a Half-Step Transcendent. However, at this age, it was nearly impossible for him to become a Transcendent; generally speaking, anyone over thirty-five had little chance of breaking through to Knight's Flame and achieving Transcendence.
George White felt somewhat uneasy in front of his nephew, especially since Redman was a young Transcendent. Their status difference was significant; the family had invested considerable effort and gifts to make this happen for him.
"That's good to hear," Redman nodded reassuringly. He had waited half a month—longer than the ten days initially mentioned—and had feared that things might fall through.
Noticing the smile on Redman's face, George cautiously asked, "Nephew, the family has strong opinions about you granting a knight title to someone from a serf background. You know that this could easily go to someone within our ranks. Moreover, this serf isn't even a Transcendent."
"Someone's envious, I see," Redman thought as he observed his uncle's expression. It was understandable; after all, he was advocating for John to become an Actual Knight.
There are two types of knights: one is a virtual title, like Poland's Gray Bear Mercenary Corps Captain, who received recognition from the White Family but held no land and could not pass on the title. The second type is an Actual Knight who possesses both a knight title and land. As long as their descendants survive and maintain their territory, they remain nobles forever; their heirs inherit knight status.
"How could they not be envious? An Actual Knight is rare in our family," George admitted honestly. "If I were qualified, I would want to compete for it myself. Although I am considered Noble Youth now, in decades to come my descendants will drift further from the main family line. They might end up living worse than some wealthy merchants."
"Envy? Just hold it in." At that moment, Redman was no longer just John's advocate; he felt more like himself—at least among outsiders.
"This title is something I've earned with my life. A bunch of people who wouldn't dare pick up a weapon have no right to take it from me. John saved me from the flames and fought against orcs alongside me; without him, I would be dead.
"I need to handle this trophy without explanation; he just said I’m the boss and he’ll listen to me. He even gave me his share of the rewards—I can’t let him down. This title belongs to him; without him, it can't belong to anyone else."
George White looked at his nephew with admiration for his determination but then thought about how his own two sons paled in comparison. "Nephew, you’re quite loyal to your friends. Um, Uncle has a favor to ask you."
"What is it, Uncle?"
"Hey, brother, I feel like there's no future for me here with Will White. Can I come along with you?" George White thought it was important to find a better path for his descendants.
Redman didn't refuse; he felt more at ease with family members coming to rely on him than with complete strangers.
"Uncle, could you send him a message and let him know to come over?"
"Sure, I'll have him pack up and bring his horses in a few days." George felt relieved, knowing he had arranged for at least one of his sons.
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