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“I never thought I’d return to the battlefield like this.”
Paul Hendt removed his helmet and placed it on the desk in the imperial barracks, adjusting to the feel of armor he hadn’t worn in years.
“There was no one else I could trust with this. My apologies,” came the reply.
“Please don’t say such things,” Hendt responded, a hint of nostalgia in his tone.
Paul Hendt, once the vice-captain of the Blue Knights, had retired and served as a swordsmanship instructor for the MacGovern children. Now, being asked to return stirred old memories.
“I’m just honored to be of use again, though I wonder if this rusty old body of mine can still move like it used to.”
“Sir Hendt, we all know your skill. You don’t need to say that,” Martte replied from across the room, recalling how Paul Hendt had taught him as a child.
Even after Martte had been knighted, there were few occasions when he had managed to defeat Hendt in a duel. But looking back, he suspected that Hendt might have let him win.
“Haha, I wonder if the knights will follow me like they used to.”
Late that night, after receiving orders from Olivurn in the...
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