The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

During their breaks, the workers leaned against the fence, watching the sheep grazing and chatting idly.

Morian looked around. The farm was surrounded by many low wooden houses, mostly two-story, filled with various tools, crops and haystacks.

"Mr. Gavin worked at Varan Farm," Charlotte said regretfully. "After retiring, his physical disability made it difficult for him to find work. Without work, he faced many restrictions, so his life was once very difficult, and at times he was almost like a homeless person."

"Fortunately, the farmer was a kind man. Seeing that he had nowhere to go, he gave him a job looking after the sheep, which included accommodation but no meals."

Even the most noble knight cannot escape being slain...

With a silent sigh, Morian asked:

"How much of a stipend did he receive from the royal family after he was dismissed?"

"It is said that he was only given fifty gold pounds, and because he was from the Southern Continent, someone in the royal family deliberately withheld some of it, so he ended up with less than forty pounds."

"These are the initial one-time allowances," Charlotte continued. "Although you'll receive a five-pound allowance every month thereafter, that's not enough to last a month in Bethlehem."

Morian felt a little heavy-hearted as he listened, feeling that the allowances the kingdom gave to retired soldiers were far too meager.

Five pounds is only equivalent to two months' taxes for an office worker!

After thinking for a moment, he decided to start with the other party's actual needs, so he began to ask:

"Did that retired knight mention anything he particularly wanted?"

"Hmm..." Charlotte's emerald green eyes flickered as she recalled, "He said he'd been craving strawberries lately, but they're too expensive."

"Wait a minute, what the hell is this demand?!" Morian's lips twitched.

Pay attention to the rice noodles! Oh no, I mean the bottom line!

As they talked, the two gradually walked to the wooden house in the far corner, its double doors ajar.

Charlotte gently knocked on the door and called out in a louder voice:

"Mr. Gavin? Are you inside?"

As soon as she finished speaking, a middle-aged man came to open the door. He was about forty years old, with sunken cheeks that looked weathered, and dark skin that was a symbol of the people of the Southern Continent.

Looking down, Morian saw his mutilated left leg, which was replaced by a rough wooden prosthesis from the knee down, making it difficult for him to walk.

"You must be Miss White?" The man nodded in greeting, then turned his gaze to Morian with a questioning tone.

"This is Mr. Morian, the detective I mentioned before," Charlotte introduced. "He wants to ask you some questions about the royal family."

Gavin glanced at him for a few moments, then forced a smile and extended his right hand to shake Morian's.

"Please come in. The hygiene conditions on the farm are not very good, please forgive us."

The interior of the cabin was even narrower than the exterior, with only a simple table and a few farming tools piled in the corner. Most of the area still had fences that hadn't been completely removed, suggesting that this place was once a livestock shed before serving as a rest area for employees.

On the table was a piece of black bread and half a bowl of whitish mushroom soup, presumably Gavin's lunch for the day.

As soon as you step into the house, you can feel the dust mixed with grass clippings hitting your face. That's not just a figure of speech; the dust really does blow onto your face, causing an itch.

"It must have been tough for Charlotte to come with me to this kind of environment..." Morian thought to himself.

Seeing that Gavin was about to pick up the bowl of cold soup, he decided to cut to the chase and said:

"Mr. Gavin, I would like to ask you about the Royal Knights and some things within the royal family."

"...What do you want to know?" Gavin's tired eyes shifted, but remained cloudy.

"Some old traditions," Morian said with a faint smile. "We can chat while we eat. I heard there's a nice restaurant in town; could you show me the way?"

Gavin remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly hesitating whether to agree.

After looking at the clear soup he was holding, he finally nodded.

"Okay, but I need to let the boss know first."

Ten minutes later, the three of them were walking on the dirt road in the small town.

Gavin's prosthetic leg made him walk slowly, especially on bumpy, bad roads, forcing both of them to slow down as well.

The town is actually less than a kilometer from the farm. Despite its small size, it has hotels and police stations located on the main street, as well as clinics and churches, although the church was not open today.

There were only a few restaurants serving food, one of which was a bar. Gavin thought about it and finally chose a restaurant called "Windmill Restaurant".

The restaurant's interior is warm and comfortable, with tall windmill flowers planted in pots, emitting a faint fragrance, which is clearly the origin of the restaurant's name.

Morian was just about to find a nice corner to sit down when the middle-aged woman who was the proprietress saw that there weren't many people and warmly invited them to sit down at a four-cornered wooden table.

"Please order whatever you like, Mr. Gavin. Don't worry about the price." He handed over the menu with a faint smile. "Consider it payment for providing the information."

Gavin took the menu, flipped through a few pages, quietly swallowed, glanced at Morian, then at Charlotte:

"Is it really possible?"

"Of course," Charlotte said with a smile.

After receiving an affirmative answer, Gavin no longer stood on ceremony and immediately called the waiter to order.

He ordered a roasted lamb chop with mashed potatoes, a ham and cheese sandwich, a salt-fried fish, cream of vegetable soup and apple pie, and finally a large glass of ale, since the restaurant didn't have any strong liquor.

After handing the menu back to them, Morian and Charlotte ordered some simple food before handing it to the waiter.

While waiting for his food, the retired knight, who had been sitting ramrod straight, suddenly felt a little embarrassed:

"Mr. Morian, have I... ordered too much?"

"Not at all, please rest assured, my weekly salary is more than enough to cover these meals," Morian said with a smile, trying to ease the other person's mood.

After saying that, he deliberately started with the easiest question and smoothly asked:

"Mr. Gavin, how long have you served in the Royal Knights?"

"Twelve years," Gavin replied in a hoarse voice. "I served from the age of twenty-four to thirty-six, and was only forced to retire two years ago."

Morian nodded slightly, controlling his facial expression to make his next words as calm as possible.

"May I ask how you got your leg injury?"

"This is all thanks to the rebellion that occurred three years ago on the border of the kingdom. All my teammates were killed that day, and I was the only one who survived, but I lost my left leg."

His expression was very calm as he spoke, but his tone was somewhat heavy.

"Because I am from the Southern Continent, I was not well-liked. After returning to the Knights, many people thought I was the one who deserted in the face of battle, which is why I was able to survive."