Murphy still didn’t object, only saying flatly, "As you wish, Your Highness."
A flicker of barely perceptible joy flashed in Elizabeth’s eyes. She followed by Murphy’s side as they returned to the room together.
Before long, another knock ca at the door.
This ti, it was the man from the highlands. He had changed into a relatively clean suit of Leather Armor, and the heavy stench of blood on him had faded considerably. His gaze toward Murphy was filled with straightforward reverence and gratitude. "Your strength is as dependable as a mountain. I, Batu, owe you my life."
With that, he thumped his own chest.
Imdiately after, the Iron Wall Imperial Guard Commander arrived.
His steps were steady, and despite his serious internal injuries, he maintained a soldier’s upright posture.
He gave Murphy a standard military salute. "Lord lfield, you turned the tide at the Central Tower. Not only did you save the defensive line, but you also indirectly saved the remaining lives of myself and my subordinates. The Empire will rember this aid."
After speaking, he did not linger, turning and leaving with crisp efficiency.
The Storm Twin Blades Brothers ca next, supporting one another. The older brother’s lost right arm was tightly bandaged, and the younger brother leaned on a crutch.
The two brothers looked at Murphy with a mixture of shock and gratitude. After a solemn bow,
The older brother said, "Thank you, Lord lfield... for buying us brothers ti to escape."
The younger brother nodded emphatically.
Ostun, the representative from the Golden Coast, didn’t dare to co. It was said his injuries were severe and, moreover, that he was overly frightened, hiding in his assigned quarters and refusing to go out.
Visitors arrived in an endless stream. Most were surviving Great Knights and their attendants coming to express their gratitude, while others simply wanted to witness the bearing of this new Legend.
Murphy’s reception of them was always brief and detached. Whether they were weeping with gratitude or filled with reverence, his response was invariably unperturbed.
Knight Armand remained in the room the entire ti, using his seniority and status to naturally navigate the social interactions and maintain the atmosphere.
When many visitors were unsure how to converse with Murphy, he would smoothly pick up the conversation, discussing a few details of the battle or their recovery from injuries. Thanks to him, the atmosphere never beca too awkward.
Throughout, Elizabeth sat quietly to one side, listening to the conversations. Whenever Knight Armand would introduce a Great Knight’s background and achievents, she would offer a tily nod or express her praise and sympathy with perfectly chosen words. She displayed a composure and grace that belied her age, leaving a deep impression on many of the visitors.
When the last visitor had departed and the room finally grew quiet, Knight Armand looked at Murphy and Elizabeth standing side by side, a wistful smile gracing his old face.
"Her Highness Elizabeth being here today was a truly wise move," Knight Armand began slowly. "These Great Knights from various kingdoms and territories are all figures of real power, or their trusted confidants. For them to be personally received and consoled by Your Highness today will be of no small benefit to the Vilt Kingdom’s future diplomacy and alliances."
He paused, then looked at Murphy with a aningful glint in his eye. "And as for you, Lord lfield, you are now a Legend, with a transcendent status. The Kingdom... will certainly do everything in its power to win you over and draw you close. Her Highness being here today is partly her duty, but perhaps it is also..."
He trailed off, smiling knowingly.
Elizabeth was just lifting a cup of herbal tea brought by a Maid. At his words, her hand trembled slightly, and a few drops of the pale gold liquid splashed onto her skirt, spreading into a small, dark patch.
A blush crept up her fair cheeks at a visible pace, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. She quickly set down the teacup and lowered her head, fumbling with a handkerchief to wipe her skirt, only managing to make the ss worse.
"You jest, Knight Armand," Murphy’s calm voice cut through the subtle awkwardness. "I am already fifty-three years old. The age gap between myself and Her Highness Elizabeth is vast."
Hearing this, Knight Armand roared with laughter, his voice full of open-mindedness. "Fifty-three? Lord lfield, what is fifty-three years to a Legendary Knight? Your physical pri can last until you are a hundred, and you will age far more slowly than an ordinary person. Before a Legend, age is never an issue."
His gentle gaze shifted between Elizabeth’s blushing cheeks and Murphy’s calm face, his tone growing even more suggestive. "Besides, there are many ways for a Kingdom to grow close to and win over a Legendary Powerhouse. Trust, respect, bonds of mutual interest, and even... closer ties... are all important ways to fortify the Kingdom’s foundation. Her Highness is of noble birth, and her talent and temperant are both exceptional. Standing beside you, Lord lfield, she would complent you perfectly, no matter how you look at it."
His words were so direct that Elizabeth’s head sank even lower. Even her neck was tinged with pink, and her fingers unconsciously twisted the ribbons on her skirt.
Seeing this, Knight Armand knew it was best not to say more. He rose and gave Murphy another solemn bow. "The Laval Clan will never forget your kindness, Lord lfield. I will not disturb you any further. May Oriane bless you both."
With that, he turned and took his leave.
The room fell quiet.
Elizabeth kept her head down, her heart pounding like a drum. Knight Armand’s barely veiled words echoed in her mind, making her feel both mortified with shyness and, at the sa ti, a secret, unexplored thrill.
Murphy, anwhile, walked slowly to the window. His gaze fell upon the tireless fountain in the courtyard, where droplets of water refracted shattered rays of sunlight.
The afternoon light cast their slanted shadows on the ground—one tall and straight, the other slender and delicate—in quiet contrast.
After a long mont, Murphy turned around. His voice was as steady as ever, but it carried a tone of dismissal. "Your Highness, you should return."
Elizabeth slowly raised her head, the blush not yet having fully faded from her face.
She glanced quickly at Murphy, her eyes eting the profile of his impassive face, then darted away again, fixing on the iris leaves unfurling in a sunlit corner of the courtyard.
"Mm," she answered softly, her voice faint but clear.
Then, she lifted her skirt, gave Murphy a flawless curtsy, and turned toward the door.
Her steps were light, her deerskin boots nearly silent on the stone floor. Only the pale gold hem of her skirt rippled softly with her movents.
The door opened and closed, and the room returned to silence.
Only the babbling of the water in the courtyard flowed on, seemingly as constant as ti itself.
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