The knight's barracks bore the proud insignia of the Calanthor Empire—gleaming gold on a backdrop of pale steel. It was meant to instill pride, inspire fear. Today, it looked tired. Blood had been spilled too close to home.
Lancelot walked casually alongside a quiet knight with silver hair and an even quieter presence.
Silver O'Reinhardt. Barely known, barely registered by most.
The road they took was sealed off—no civilians allowed. Not after what happened.
`Well, of course they'd seal it. Someone tried to attack the Queen… You don't exactly hang welcome banners after that.`
Ahead, standing like he'd just stepped out of a painting, was Garrick Solvain. The Captain of the White Sun Knights, the man practically glowed under the sun—his smile dazzling as ever.
Right next to him stood a woman with arms crossed and a frown sharp enough to cut glass.
`Oh, lovely. Rayne Heron. Vice-Captain herself. This is going to be fun.`
Lancelot barely held back a smirk as her eyes narrowed the moment they landed on him. She clicked her tongue in irritation—an oddly satisfying sound, really.
"Sir Lancelot," Garrick greeted, spreading his arms like a gracious host. "Welcome. I was meaning to visit you in the infirmary, but… well, duty calls."
"Oh, don't worry about it," Lancelot replied smoothly. "I figured you were busy with all the bowing, scraping, and paperwork."
Garrick chuckled. "Still, I'm grateful. If not for you, things could've gone sideways fast. I was practically useless."
Lancelot waved him off. "You landed the final blow. That counts. My plan was a gamble anyway. If Delta had been just a little faster, I'd be in a casket."
"You're too harsh on yourself," Garrick smiled, then turned to Silver. "And you must be the 'special case'. Silver O'Reinhardt, right?"
Silver stepped forward and gave a polite bow. "Yes. From the Reinhardt family. I specialize in the rapier."
Garrick nodded warmly. "Welcome to the White Sun Knights. Glad to have you."
Lancelot clapped his hands once. "Well then, shall we get to the investigation—"
"Ahem," a cold voice interrupted. Rayne stepped forward, arms still crossed. "The battlefield is no place for the palace's pet."
Garrick winced slightly. "Rayne—"
"No. Let me speak, Captain." She took a step closer. "They're underestimating us. Sir Lancelot Du Lac, I hope you're not planning to chase shadows while we look for the real attackers."
Lancelot's smirk didn't budge. "Truth tends to hide in shadows, Vice-Captain. You'd be surprised what you find when you actually look."
Sensing the air tense up, Garrick clapped his hands. "Right. Strategy meeting in an hour. Let's not waste daylight."
Rayne scoffed and walked off. "Tch. Just don't get in our way."
---
By midday, the sun gleamed off polished armor as the knights gathered outside the barracks.
Rayne stood before them, voice clipped and commanding. "Our goal is simple: find the ones who dared attack the coronation. Leave no stone unturned."
`Attackers, huh? Yeah, sure. The real culprit is thar fucker Julius. Snake's hiding behind his title while everyone's too polite to notice. I need proof. Then I can take his head without anyone crying treason.`
"Move out. Do not shame the White Sun Knights," she snapped.
The knights scattered like ants, combing through debris and wreckage.
Except Lancelot.
He sat cross-legged on a rock, arms behind his head, staring at the clouds.
Silver blinked at him. "Um… Shouldn't we… I don't know, help?"
"Nah. Waste of time."
'He's supposed to be one of the Queen's top men? Seriously? This is the guy she vouched for?' —Silver stared at him in disbelief.
Rayne, of course, was not having it.
She stomped over, scowling. "Sir Lancelot. Care to explain what you're doing?"
Lancelot turned his head slightly. "Sitting. Pretty sure that's obvious. Might wanna get your eyes checked."
Silver thought. 'He really knows how to piss her off'
Rayne looked ready to explode. "What, too incompetent to even pretend to investigate?"
Garrick appeared just in time to prevent a homicide. "Okay, okay, that's enough."
Lancelot stretched his arms and stood. "Alright, alright. You've guilted me into it. Guess it's time I got to work."
Rayne narrowed her eyes. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Basement. Where the Captain was trapped."
Rayne scoffed. "We've already analyzed the runes down there. There's nothing useful left."
"We'll see," Lancelot said, walking off without another word.
'What's he up to now…?' Silver followed, along with a very reluctant Rayne and Garrick.
The basement was a mess of broken stone, shattered pillars, and scorch marks. At its center, a half-faded magic circle etched into cracked earth.
"This is where I got lured into a trap," Garrick said, frowning. "Thought we caught someone… ended up nearly dying."
Rayne folded her arms. "We already analyzed the rune. Even had the Royal Mage Department look at it. Nothing suspicious."
Lancelot walked to the circle and stared at it. For five solid minutes.
'What is he even doing?' Silver thought. 'Meditating?'
Rayne exhaled sharply. "Are you broken? Or just playing dumb?"
"Shh," Lancelot said, waving her off. "Trying to decide what level of idiot you are."
Garrick thought. 'He really knows how to piss her off'
"You—!" Rayne growled.
But Lancelot cut her off. "You said they studied the rune, right? Did anyone check what was used to draw the circle?"
Rayne blinked. "…What?"
Garrick frowned. "You mean… like the ink?"
"Not ink. Blood. This was drawn using Sea Serpent's blood." Lancelot stood up. "And last I checked, there's only one family that monopolizes that material."
He turned, eyes cold.
"The House of Tangent."
Later, a royal mage inspected the site and confirmed it. Sea Serpent's blood. No mistake.
Garrick's face lit up. "This is it! We've got a lead!"
He turned to the squad. "Everyone! Pack up! Tomorrow at dawn we head to the Tangent Manor! Get your beauty sleep—we're moving out!"
"YEAHHHH!!" the knights shouted in unison.
Lancelot, meanwhile, was soaking in the praise. Rayne? She was in the back, trying very hard to hide the fact her face was red.
He gave her a smug glance. She looked away.
Silver sighed in the corner.
'I don't know if he's a genius or just the luckiest bastard alive. Either way… I need to report to the Queen.'
---
That night…
The training field behind the barracks was dimly lit. Lancelot stood alone, the Uruz rune on his wrist glowing faintly.
`Focus. If I'm going to play this role right… I need to master his techniques too.`
He took a deep breath.
"Hundredth Step."
With a sudden blur, he vanished—reappearing seven meters ahead with a thud.
`The Uruz rune's boosting my growth. Good. I'll need it soon.`
"HELLOOOO!"
He flinched. "Holy hell—!"
A bright-eyed girl with a flaming red ponytail stood just feet away, practically vibrating with energy.
"Iris," she said with a grin. "Biggest fan. Nice to meet you, Sir Lancelot!"
"Fan?"
She gave him a dramatic thumbs-up. "Heard all about how you protected the nobles. Especially Lady Elena. You're like a living legend!"
`A fan is what I least expected.`
"I… see," he muttered.
Suddenly, her eyes sharpened. "What was that?"
A shadow slipped past the tent. Lurking.
She reached for her blade.
Lancelot didn't move. Just smirked.
"Relax. Probably just a rat."
`So that fucker has started moving.`
"…That rat looked huge."
"Uh. Big rat. Maybe a… cat?"
She frowned. "Cats don't make that kind of noise…"
"..."