At dawn, the castle welcomed the first light rain of the fall season.

  Rein, following his biological clock, slowly woke up in a pile of straw.

  As the lowest-ranking "slave" in the castle, Rein had neither his own room nor his own bed.

  Therefore, he had no choice but to sleep in the filthy, cold, and foul-smelling empty stable, alongside other "stable slaves" like him.

  In the darkness, Rein looked at his companions who were still asleep, quietly getting up without disturbing them.

  After all, this was a situation he had grown accustomed to over the two years since he was sold to the castle.

  “Huff…”

  Rein exhaled a breath of foul air and then rubbed his hands together vigorously.

  After gradually adjusting to the cold, rainy weather, Rein stepped over the other still-sleeping companions and quietly made his way to the only oil lamp in the center of the empty stable.

  The oil lamp was filled with lamp oil made from animal fat.

  This type of lamp oil was cheap, but it had a significant drawback: it easily solidified in cold weather, making it difficult to light.

  The lamp oil in the lamp before Rein had already solidified, sticking to the wick, and the flint in his hand was unable to ignite it.

  As a result, Rein had no choice but to grip the exposed wick with his hand, standing alone in the cold empty stable, waiting for the heat from his palm to melt the solidified oil on the wick.

  After a moment...

  Snap!

  With a spark flashing, the dim stable was soon illuminated by the faint yellow glow of the flame.

  Rein glanced around at his companions, some still sleeping, others pretending to be asleep, and didn’t try to wake them.

  After all, as "stable slaves," their only purpose was to take care of the horses for the knights of the castle.

  If they did well, there would be no rewards.

  If they did poorly, they would be beaten or worse, killed and discarded outside the castle, left to rot without anyone caring.

  Such a dark future made the stable slaves resign themselves to living day by day, hoping to survive another.

  But Rein was an exception among the stable slaves...

  Knowing that the others wouldn’t wake up this early, he took down the hanging oil lamp and headed alone to the adjacent stable.

  Inside the stable were three warhorses and several ordinary packhorses.

  The Morton Duchy was a nation built on cavalry, and in this country, everyone took pride in becoming a knight.

  Once, when Rein first arrived in this strange “other world,” he too dreamed of becoming a knight.

  He believed that perhaps he could carve out a place for himself in this unfamiliar land and leave behind a legend of his own.

  But all those dreams were shattered the night a group of mounted bandits raided his village, looting and pillaging everything in sight.

  It was on that night that Rein came to understand two things:

  First, the men on horseback were not always knights.

  Second, among the things knights protected, commoners like him were perhaps not included.

  He realized this because on the armor of one of the leading bandits, he clearly saw a crest that resembled a noble’s sigil.

  Though he didn’t recognize which family the crest belonged to or what it represented, he knew one thing for certain—these men were no ordinary bandits.

  After all, ordinary bandits couldn’t afford expensive armor, nor did they have the right to bear a noble crest.

  After being captured by these men, Rein was sold to the baron’s castle in Thornhold after a series of twists and turns, eventually becoming a stable slave responsible for tending the knights’ horses.

  “Someone who once dreamed of becoming a knight... only to end up as a slave lower than the horses he tends…”

  Rein muttered softly to himself as he lowered his head to feed the horses.

  And the truth was, as he said.

  If a horse dies, the knights will genuinely grieve for a long time.

  But if a stable slave dies, the knights may only coldly say, “I see,” and then nothing more.

  This is the life of a slave in the Morton Duchy—like weeds by the roadside, unnoticed by anyone.

  In the dim stable, after Rein poured all the feed into the mangers, he sat alone on a large stone beside the stable. He stared blankly at the empty patch of land in the castle courtyard not far away, quietly waiting.

  As the rain stopped, a beam of morning light shone into Thornhold.

  A group of militiamen soon began training in the castle courtyard under the guidance of a trainee knight.

  For Rein, this was a rare "learning time."

  Rein didn’t want to be a slave for life, and he definitely didn’t want to spend his whole life tending horses for others.

  Therefore, he had to seize every opportunity to "rise" in life.

  Sneaking a glance at the militiamen’s training every morning became Rein’s almost only "chance."

  But just watching wasn’t enough to become a "knight."

  Horses, equipment, combat skills, and even other things that Rein couldn’t even imagine were what ultimately cemented a knight’s prominent status in the Morton Duchy.

  So, even though some of the militiamen noticed Rein’s unusual behavior, no one really cared.

  After all, who would pay attention to the thoughts of a slave?

  Once, Rein also thought he could never escape the chains of slavery that bound him.

  But after the second day he arrived at the baron’s castle, things began to change...

  [Soul Link completed, Knight's Blessing activated...]

  [Note: Those who follow the Eight Virtues of a Knight will receive the Knight's Blessing, and glory will belong to them.]

  The "Knight's Blessing" was the first piece of information that appeared in Rein's mind on the second day after he arrived at the baron's castle.

  And its effect was simple: as long as Rein strictly adhered to the Eight Virtues of a Knight, he would receive varying degrees of Blessing, or what could be called "talents."

  But activating these talents was not an easy task.

  Two years had passed, and Rein had only activated two of the blessings.

  They were Humility and Honesty, two of the Eight Virtues.

  [Humility (Absolute Focus): By maintaining humility, you gain the best ability to learn and analyze.]

  [Honesty (Sense of Truth): By maintaining honesty, you gain the ability to distinguish between all truths and lies.]

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  Without these two blessings, Rein didn't think he could have learned anything from watching the training.

  But with these two blessings, the situation was entirely different.

  After all, Rein's learning target had never been the ordinary militiamen.

  It was the burly trainee knight of the castle, Fergus, who stood in front of the militiamen.

  Though Fergus rarely took action himself, he occasionally selected one or two militiamen to spar with in order to showcase the strength of a trainee knight.

  Therefore, on one of these rare occasions, Rein used the terrifying learning ability brought by Humility (Absolute Focus) to observe some unusual things about Fergus.

  For example, during combat, this trainee knight’s breathing pattern would change instantly.

  This, in turn, caused his strength and speed to visibly increase, which amazed Rein.

  After making this discovery, Rein began to quietly observe Fergus's breathing techniques and other subtle details during the trainee knight's training sessions with the militiamen.

  Thanks to the terrifying enhancement of Humility (Absolute Focus), by the third month after arriving at the baron's castle, Rein had nearly mastered Fergus's unique breathing method.

  However, after trying it for the first time, Rein never used this method again.

  During that attempt, he experienced what it truly felt like to be "on the brink of death."

  The sensation of his body tearing apart, with his internal organs aching, made him immediately stop his reckless actions.

  Afterward, Rein suffered a high fever for three days, and it took him nearly half a month to recover, as if he had danced with death.

  But although the attempt had cost him dearly, it was not without reward.

  Because after that, Rein clearly felt his appetite had increased significantly.

  His physical fitness also seemed to have improved slightly.

  However, as a slave, Rein was never in a position to always have enough to eat.

  Naturally, he dared not casually use the special breathing method to train his body.

  But Rein did not give up.

  Instead, he got up early every day and, rain or shine, sat here to observe the militiamen's training.

  Rein wasn’t trying to learn anything specific from it; rather, he was looking to seize a fleeting, almost impossible opportunity.

  And as the saying goes, "Effort will not betray the diligent"—today, that nearly impossible opportunity... finally appeared.

  "Hey, you there, little slave. I’ve seen you watching from over there for more than a year now. I imagine you must have some desire to become a knight.

  But if you really want to become a knight, just watching won’t cut it. Come over here and give it a try."

  Fergus's cheerful voice immediately interrupted the militiamen's training, drawing everyone's gaze to the frail figure standing by the stable.

  When Fergus extended the invitation, Rein naturally couldn’t refuse, nor would he dare to.

  For the first time since coming to the castle, Rein was allowed to step out of the filthy, dim stable and onto the well-maintained, lush green grass of the castle's courtyard.

  As he approached, the years of living in the stable had left an undeniable odor on him. His rough clothing was visibly stained with bits of weeds and unidentifiable dirt.

  This caused the surrounding militiamen to grimace in disgust, instinctively pulling away from him.

  However, unlike the militiamen who showed no restraint in expressing their contempt, Fergus, the trainee knight, seemed oddly interested in this little slave.

  After observing Rein from up close, Fergus noticed that, although Rein's clothes were dirty and his hair was messy, his nails were remarkably clean, with not a speck of dirt under them.

  This indicated that Rein was, in fact, someone who valued cleanliness, but due to his environment, he had no choice but to appear so shabby and untidy.

  But this small detail didn’t matter much.

  No matter what Rein's identity had been before, now he was just a stable slave in the castle.

  What truly piqued Fergus's interest, and what led him to invite Rein to join the training, was something far more simple:

  It was Rein’s eyes.

  Unlike the numb, hollow eyes of the other slaves, Rein’s eyes were clear and pure.

  This made him stand out among the other slaves.

  After all, one side was made up of walking corpses, and the other was a living person.

  Even a normal person, not to mention a trainee knight like Fergus, could easily see the difference.

  However, most people simply didn’t care about a slave’s thoughts, nor did they bother to understand these individuals’ pasts.

  That was why they chose to ignore it.

  In fact, if Rein hadn’t shown up at the same spot in the stable every morning, quietly watching their training, Fergus would never have noticed his unusual gaze, nor would he have been so spontaneous today.

  After all, who would care about a slave’s thoughts?

  In the morning sunlight, Rein, with his bony frame and shabby clothing, was like an ugly duckling among a flock of swans. The surrounding militiamen, tall and strong with rosy faces, silently watched him with expressions of either disdain or arrogance.

  But just as the militiamen didn’t care about a slave’s thoughts, Fergus, the trainee knight, also didn’t care about the opinions of mere militiamen.

  Therefore, after sizing up the 12-year-old Rein, who barely reached the chest of the militiamen, Fergus casually grabbed a wooden sword from a nearby rack and tossed it in front of Rein.

  "Pick it up, little slave, and then..."

  Fergus’s gaze swept over the militiamen, finally landing on one with a sharp, monkey-like face, whose build was relatively weak compared to the others.

  "Defeat him."

  "As long as you can do it, I’ll let you join my militia. How about that?"

  It was the truth...

  With the Honesty (Sense of Truth) ability, Rein immediately sensed the sincerity and the condescension hidden in Fergus's words.

  In response, Rein gave his answer.

  He picked up the wooden sword from the ground, now a bit heavier due to the rainwater, and respectfully spoke,

  "Thank you for your grace, esteemed Knight Fergus."

  Upon hearing this, Fergus was momentarily stunned, then, as he scratched his stubbled chin, he couldn't help but chuckle.

  "Esteemed Knight Fergus..."

  What a delightful and fitting title.

  Although Fergus had heard similar words from many people, for some reason, when they came from Rein’s mouth, the effect was entirely different from when others said them.

  Fergus could feel that Rein’s words weren’t empty flattery, but sincere praise from the heart.

  Thinking this, Fergus’s impression of Rein improved significantly.

  He silently made up his mind.

  As long as Rein’s performance wasn’t too bad, regardless of whether he won or lost, he would be inducted into his militia.

  After all, he was "Esteemed Knight Fergus," not some damn trainee knight.

  And a true knight, why would he be stingy with his charity toward a slave?

  However, unlike Fergus, who now regarded Rein differently, the chosen militiaman had a look of impatience on his face.

  "You worthless, damned slave! What are you standing there for? Hurry up and attack! Do you want me to stand here in the cold morning and punish you together?"

  In response, Rein didn’t get angry.

  He merely raised his wooden sword silently, lowered his body, and placed the sword over his shoulder in a ready stance.

  "Hmm?"

  Fergus, who had been watching, immediately became more alert.

  Because the stance Rein had just assumed was unmistakably the first move from the "Dove Swordsmanship" that he had demonstrated just three days ago — Dove's Beak.

  If Rein wasn’t just pretending, this meant that in just three days, this unnoticed little slave had learned one sword technique simply by watching.

  If that were true, then Fergus might have just stumbled upon something valuable.

  Thinking this, Fergus’s expression grew serious.

  He had a feeling that this seemingly insignificant little slave might bring him quite the surprise.