"I apologize for Colt," Sven looked at the knight, whom his friends had helped to his feet. Colt's appearance wasn't dreadful; by evening, a couple of bruises would appear, and only a blow to the ribs could cause something serious. But Sven wasn't too worried about him.

"His brothers just died," Sven continued. "They said Tikou killed them. That's why he's been acting this way. Don't take it to heart."

Sven's voice was calm and indifferent. He wasn't interested in Colt's old story, the one that always made him cry. He was more curious about why Felix was here.

"Where are you from?" Sven asked.

Felix's response didn't keep Sven waiting.

"Union, but I'm a traveler."

Sven scrutinized Felix. He wasn't very neat, but he looked good enough for a traveler from the Union, a different part of the continent.

"More precisely?" Sven inquired more attentively.

"Morion, the City of Streams."

Sven nodded. It was a port city by the Sea of Olt. Ships from the Sea Union, a trading company of the Rumilian Empire, often sailed from there to the Republic. He knew the city well. Morion supported the Republic in the Imperial March, unlike most Union cities, which sided with the Empire.

"Yes, a beautiful city," Felix reminisced about fleeting moments from his life in Morion.

With a surge of emotion, he calmed down and began to watch Bernard. The child was innocently sucking his finger, and Felix immediately thought about food, as did his companion.

"Bring some goat's milk," Sven gestured to his subordinate. There were many of them around, but only one responded - Christoph, a big and seemingly kind man. He served as Sven's deputy in the fortress.

"Thank you," Felix expressed his gratitude, and shortly afterward, the milk was in his hands. They gave him a wooden cup filled to the brim with milk.

The conversation between Sven and Felix didn't last long. When they spoke, it took them mere moments. Neither of them was interested in these inquiries. Felix had already realized that Sven was the warden of Solen Fortress and one of the order's lieutenants. All because of his sixth rank, which was often possessed by the magisters themselves, not their subordinates.

Felix bowed and left. He wanted to find lodging before it got dark, and that became his pretext to leave. But as he exited, Christoph followed him. Seeing this, Felix stopped and waited.

Approaching him, Christoph began to speak:

"Leave Solen," it was a warning.

"Why?" Felix didn't understand. Fights happened often, and he hadn't been rude to Sven during their conversation.

"Sven is obsessed with the art of the sword. He always craves a fight with worthy opponents. I've seen those cold blue eyes countless times, hungry for battle. And it's only because he observed you closely that he didn't attack. He'll find a reason to attack very quickly. So, leave. It's better for you and your child."

Felix wanted to rest, eat, wash up, and sleep somewhere other than the ground. But he believed Christoph. During the Imperial March, he had often seen eyes like Sven's and was confident in the truth of his interlocutor's words...