I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

Until a voice came from the entrance to the deck.

"The Shining, Liz?"

The newcomer seemed to have spotted her companions gazing into the distance, as well as the somewhat unfamiliar figure beside them.

So the Radiant Knight of Kazimierz walked forward with some doubt and curiosity, and came to the three of them.

Then she saw that face, a face she knew all too well.

By the time she realized what was happening, she had already been lifted into the air by the wind, her feet dangling off the ground, and all her ability to move had been completely obliterated by the wind.

"That's pretty much what I thought. He's definitely a very interesting person."

Gerald silently observed Shining's movement as he touched the hilt of his sword. Any thoughts of fighting or seeking guidance were now overshadowed by the anger of their reunion, leaving him only with a cold remark—

"It's so funny that they don't even care about their own sister and leave the mess for someone else to clean up. And it just so happens that all this happened when I was far away from Kazimierz, and I haven't come back to see her for years."

“Tell me, Margaret.”

Gerald brought his golden eyes close to the face of the man with a similar pegasus-like features, and looking at the man's blank expression, asked, word by word:

"When are you ready to go back to your hometown, you irresponsible sister?"

Chapter Ninety-Eight: Interlude Chat (5K5)

"No, Shining."

As she was being lifted into the air, Margaret's first thought wasn't to break free from the wind binding her, but to stop her companion's actions: "He meant no harm."

“I do,” Gerald said expressionlessly, catching the pony dangling in the air and grabbing her ear, squeezing it roughly. “While I’m not really qualified to lecture you, that doesn’t stop me from beating you up right now.”

"...I'm sorry, I know I was wrong."

Seeing this, Margaret had no choice but to apologize to the younger brother in front of her, who was a few years younger than her: "Could you put my ear down? We can find a place to have a good talk, Jay."

Gerald tilted his head, looking at his childhood friend whose face had been sculpted by reality into his current resolute appearance, and a nameless anger welled up in his heart for no reason: "--Of course."

Why not, my dear Margaret?

--------

Margaret, or rather, Nearl, an operator from Rhodes Island, has made outstanding contributions to the medical company itself.

For example, she was one of the escorts for key personnel and those who were present at the recent incident in Chernobog, and many operators within Rhodes Island are also familiar with her—at least that's what she herself says.

Therefore, the best option for the conversation would be to take place in the dormitory. Anywhere else would inevitably attract attention and might even become headline news on the ship the next day.

His dormitory was no good. He had just used a spell to inform Ramalen that he wouldn't be going back for the time being. If Margaret were to come to his dormitory without knowing anything about it, then death would probably be a mercy to him.

However, considering that the three apostles lived in the same dormitory, it was not a convenient option to rashly enter the other's dormitory, even though Shining and Nightingale did not mind.

So they eventually decided to open a training ground as a place to talk, and specifically asked the other two black and white demons to return to their dormitories early—after all, Gerald didn't want to make a mess of other people's dormitories.

They didn't want to beat up their companions in front of others.

"cough--"

Margaret was struck hard in the abdomen, the most severe attack she had suffered since being brought to the training room that day. The single punch sent her flying several meters away, and it took her about a minute to fall back to the ground like a feather.

"What about the demon-dispelling techniques you told me about before?" Gerald walked slowly to Pegasus, who had just been tossed back and forth by the wind several times, and looked down at him. "No progress at all, is that it? I'm not surprised at all. After all, according to your companion, you should have been busy in the countryside for the past few years, healing people with your light."

Margaret simply listened silently to the rebukes, while unleashing her Originium Arts in her lower abdomen.

A pale golden light seeped from his palm, the glow of dawn, slowly nourishing the injured area and dispelling the lingering force and pain.

"I also thought I would finally see you in the ranks of the Knights of Conquest, rather than on Rhodes Island."

Margaret looked up at her childhood friend, whom she could hardly recognize, and said, "Your presence here means that Kazimierz has undergone tremendous changes."

"...So you really don't know anything."

As Gerald watched the other man's emotions gradually calm down, his initial indignation was suddenly doused with cold water, and his anger was extinguished along with it: "He didn't take the initiative to find out, he didn't read the relevant news, he left Maria in that godforsaken place for six years and never came back."

“My continued stay in Kazimierz would only have a negative effect. Besides, Maria has her uncle. She is strong enough and she will be better than me.”

Margaret lowered her head; she was indeed not a good older sister: "And, at that time, I was still searching for my own path."

“I know you are not infected. The reason Lord Cyril banished you from Kazimierz was specifically for your safety, which is why he fabricated the story about Oripathy,” he said coldly. “I’m not so dense as to not be able to see that, not to mention that all those theories about Oripathy are in my head. You don’t have any symptoms of infection at all.”

“Yes.” Margaret looked at the incandescent light source above her head, the light making her eyes shrink back in fear.

"So you're afraid of assassination? Why didn't you come directly to me?"

“I can’t risk exposing Maria and Uncle to the enemy’s sight. It’s best to keep them out of contact,” she said softly. “Besides, I can’t let anything happen to you. If you insist on standing up for me, it will only end up getting you out of the army and making the hyenas that are eyeing the opportunity even more unscrupulous.”

"...Ha, I wish they would have the guts to take this opportunity to frame me for treason."

These words calmed Tianma down considerably.

Gerald, standing beside her, suddenly crouched down and looked directly into Margaret's eyes:

“Listen, I don’t need your explanation, Margaret, I won’t blame you.”

"After all, so many people are watching you and want you dead. What really angers me is that you haven't contacted your family even once."

“I won’t ask you to tell me about your experiences over the years, or what you’ve learned. If you’d like to tell me about it over afternoon tea later, I’d be happy to listen.”

"Just as I myself change because of certain things and have more things to care about, you will also have your own encounters."

"but--"

Gerald paused slightly before finally saying, "At least, I hope you're ready now."

Margaret slowly sat up, meeting his gaze, her tone no longer evasive: "Preparations to return to Kazimierz?"

“No,” Gerald nodded slightly, then shook his head gently: “Be prepared to embrace change.”

Upon hearing this, Margaret remained silent for a moment.

She slowly stood up, gripped the double-handed hammer beside her, took a deep breath, and then looked at Gerald solemnly, her tone steady and serious: "Gerald, when I leave..."

What exactly happened inside Kazimir?

……

Gerald knew very well that his childhood sweetheart was, in a sense, a very "knight-like" person.

But he just really hates that word.

Because a knight in battle is a knight, a nobleman is a knight, and a knight in a gladiatorial contest is a knight; once a word is widely defined, its connotation is distorted and turns into a stereotype in people's minds.

So from the very beginning, after he was truly disappointed in Casimir, he never referred to himself as a "knight" again.

In any case, he is neither a nobleman stripped of his honor, nor a member of the knights of conquest, nor an ordinary person who takes to the stage wearing corporate armor; this statement cannot be wrong.

Of course, there's also the most important thing:

Unlike Margaret, he was not a noble person who possessed light and hope, was extremely difficult to defeat in spirit, and always rose up to strive forward.

He is the person furthest from that title.

So the despicable Pegasus told the noble Pegasus everything.

The story revolves around how he fell on the battlefield, how news of his death reached Kazimir, and how he ultimately brought things to a close.

Could this Radiant Knight handle this sudden surge of guilt and remorse? He didn't know.

All he knew was that the expression on Margaret's face at that moment was something he had probably never seen before in his entire life.

Even when he was a child, holding her hand and getting lost in the forest, having to huddle together for warmth in a cave to spend the night, he had never seen Margaret show such an expression of extreme sadness in front of him.

"why?"

This was the only question she could ask, and it had no specific target.

It could be about why the Securities and Futures Commission made such a decisive judgment, or why the father chose to have that perpetually uncooperative enemy die with him, or why Gerald ultimately chose to surrender in Colombia.

Or perhaps it's because she didn't know what to ask.

Any superfluous words will become sharp knives piercing the heart of the person in front of you, and will also pierce her heart.

Standing on the champion's platform, the young and impetuous woman revealed an ignorant smile, and threw the warhammer in her hand far away, smashing it on the head of herself six years later.

“There’s no reason, Margaret. Dwelling on the past will make you waver.” Gerald patted the other’s cheek with his palm: “If you have any thoughts like ‘If I had been there, would things have been different?’ I’ll hang you up and beat you to a pulp.”

"...But that's just how it is."

“The truth is, you’re arrogant enough to think you can influence his mind with just your words.” Gerald grabbed the other man’s ear and rubbed it a few times. “Don’t tarnish his resolve, no matter how foolish the decision may be. If it were me, I would—”

He suddenly stopped talking and focused his gaze on his hands.

It was placed on these hands yesterday, where they clashed with the wind they knew best.

"Jay?"

Margaret looked up at Gerald, who was lost in thought. Thinking that her words had touched on Gerald's painful memories, she couldn't help but interrupt, "Are you alright?"

“I’m fine, Margaret.”

Tenma blinked, bringing up the old name again, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic: "I was just thinking that since you're still the same as before, it's better to call you by this name."

“…It’s just a name that’s been mispronounced.” Margaret sighed, but the worries she had been having were indeed dispelled by this sudden interruption. “But, well, if you want to continue calling me that.”

“The question now is,” her expression gradually turned serious, and she deftly shook off Gerald’s hand, “what are you going to do next?”

Gerald was in a good mood and shared his thoughts with the Radiant Knight:

"Preparing to kill."

--------

For some reason, after he had told her some details of the operation, Miss Lin Guang seemed a little dissatisfied and agitated, and hoped that he could stop for a while and discuss it with her.

It's not that it's impossible, but Gerald doesn't think it's necessary.

Seeing his childhood playmate still looking as charming as ever, although it initially caused him some dissatisfaction, this dissatisfaction naturally dissipated with time.

This meeting only reinforced his belief in one fact.

We must get back to Kazimir as soon as possible.

Therefore, after temporarily saying goodbye to Margaret, Gerald embarked on his journey to the medical department.

Having already traversed this path once before, he now seemed quite adept at it, and the wind seemed to guide him back to the way he had been.

So, as he set off on his journey, he naturally bumped into the person he had just been thinking about.

"Father."

Aifanil emerged from the entrance of the medical department in the distance and quickened his pace to approach Gerald upon seeing him: "It seems your medical examination went smoothly."

“Everything’s fine,” Gerald said, looking at the banshee in front of him. A strange feeling welled up inside him, and he felt a strong urge to touch the ear feather on his son’s head. “I might be going to Kazimierz later. What are you doing at the medical department? Are you feeling unwell?”

“One of our doctors is having some memory problems, so Dr. Kal'tsit asked me to come and see if it was caused by a curse.”

“It’s not easy to fake amnesia,” Aifanil said slowly, with a hint of contemplation. “Especially under the influence of the spell, considering that ‘forgetting’ is not a true loss, but more like a lock. As long as the right key is found, everything that is locked can be released, including the deepest secrets hidden in one’s heart—if one is unlucky.”

“…” Gerald broke out in a cold sweat. “Oh, oh, I see. Do you remember what it was about?”

"Can not remember."

The banshee pointed to her arm and head: "This part of my memory has been erased by a curse. It's most likely some content related to Dr. Kal'tsit that would cause me serious harm."

"If you'd like to know more, I can take you to her office."

No, he doesn't want to know; he already knows.

Gerald silently wiped the sweat from his brow. He suddenly realized that negotiating with the lynx at this moment was probably not a very good idea.

……

The medical ward corridor remained quiet and orderly, white light spilling onto the floor, illuminating two figures walking side by side. Gerald slowly stepped forward, listening to the echoes of Evanil's footsteps beside him in the corridor.

After passing through a suddenly bustling corridor, seemingly where patients had escaped from their wards only to be recaptured, they did not stop but continued along the corridor.

Kal'tsit's office soon came into view.

"This is Dr. Kal'tsit's office."

As Afael arrived at the door, he bid farewell to Gerald, saying, "Please take good care of yourself. The doctor seemed rather downcast when I left. I'll head back now, Father."

"...I can tell."

As Gerald swept the room's layout with his wind, a strange expression appeared on his face: "Kal'tsit, she's got some tricks up her sleeve."

As he spoke, Gerald knocked on the door in front of him, and after receiving permission, he pushed the door open and went in.