What awaited me upon returning to the Baron Endenberg’s household was a rather enthusiastic welcome from the knights.

  Several knights had drawn their swords and surrounded me. Even if I was technically the heir of this house, their reaction was no different from facing an enemy.

  The only reason they hadn’t resorted to force yet was likely because Schneizel was standing beside me.

  In the world eight years ter, he was universally acknowledged as the strongest man alive.

  Even now, his mere presence exuded an overwhelming pressure that kept others at bay.

  "Well, well. Brat, you really do have some baggage, huh?"

  "I suppose I was more focused on hiding it than anything else. My apologies. I was afraid you’d refuse to take me as your disciple if I told you."

  "Hah, don’t sweat it. Tolerating a disciple’s mischief is part of a master’s job, ain’t it? So, what’s the pn? Wanna force our way through?"

  The moment Schneizel swept his gaze across the knights, unease rippled through their ranks.

  They had steeled themselves for battle, while Schneizel remained utterly unfazed. The sheer gap between them was almost ughable—so vast I couldn’t even begin to fathom it.

  That said, letting things escate into a fight would be bad, even I could tell that much, ignorant as I was of this world.

  "That won’t be necessary. I’d like to speak with my father. Could you arrange an audience immediately?"

  So, I stepped forward and spoke up.

  The knights’ attention shifted from Schneizel to me.

  Bearing the full weight of their focus—and the pressure that came with it—was exhausting, but I had no choice.

  This was the real test—whether I could prove myself worthy of becoming Schneizel’s disciple.

  "I’m afraid that won’t be possible."

  As expected, the most pompous-looking knight rejected my request.

  "And why is that? Are you saying this despite knowing I am the heir of House Endenberg?"

  My words carried the implicit message: My status outranks yours.

  But the knight only returned my words with a scornful look.

  Hmm… Is this about my birth?

  Wait, was Norwin actually some sve kid picked up from somewhere?

  No clue. For now, I’ll try digging a little deeper through conversation.

  "I’m well aware of that. However, I am a knight sworn to the Baron, not to you."

  Fair enough.

  Can’t really argue with that, huh?

  "Furthermore, the Baron has not granted you permission to leave the estate. Now, please return at once."

  Ah. Yeah, this isn’t gonna work.

  Even if I’m technically a seven-year-old with the mind of someone in their twenties, against actual adults, my intellectual advantage is practically nonexistent.

  Besides, I spent the tter half of my life as a NEET—my only real experience with society was up until high school.

  There’s no way I could out-talk a knight who’s spent his life navigating the intricacies of noble society in this world. Guess I’ll have to work on that too.

  So, what now?

  The knights clearly have no intention of letting me see the head of the household.

  At this point, maybe I should just let Schneizel force our way through—

  "My, my. Quite the commotion. Ah, I see. So this is the situation."

  A voice—gentle and utterly out of pce—suddenly filled the air.

  A warm, soothing tone that put everyone at ease. Even the knights and I, locked in our standoff, couldn’t help but rex slightly under its calming effect.

  But I quickly snapped back to vigince.

  "Hah."

  Because the man standing next to me—Schneizel, who had looked bored even while surrounded by knights—was now making the most strained face I’d seen all day.

  "Norwin, welcome back. I was surprised when you disappeared without a word, but I never doubted your safety."

  The man smiled amiably, his demeanor every bit the refined gentleman as he addressed me.

  Wait, is this guy my father?

  He’s ridiculously handsome. If I’ve got his blood in me, my future looks promising.

  Well, not that I need the excitement—I already know what adult Norwin looks like. And… he’s not exactly a looker.

  Still, if he was so sure I was safe, why lock me up in the first pce?

  Ugh, too much information. My brain’s overheating.

  "And—it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your presence is even more formidable than the tales of your valor suggest. You must be Commander Schneizel, correct?"

  "Yeah, that’s me."

  Schneizel’s face might as well have been screaming I hate you as he clicked his tongue and looked away.

  "My, such harshness. It seems I’ve been disliked."

  "Damn right. You lined up a buncha weaklings to intimidate us."

  One of the knights reflexively reached for his sword at the word weaklings, but a single gre from Schneizel made him freeze in pce.

  Seeing this, the gentleman—likely my father—bowed without hesitation.

  "My deepest apologies. It seems my subordinates ck proper discipline."

  "Whatever. Not like I care. And quit bowin’—can’t stand that."

  "Hehe, my apologies… Ah, but how rude of me. I’ve yet to introduce myself. I am Nichos von Endenberg. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

  "Nichos, huh? Got it."

  From their exchange, it was clear Schneizel held overwhelmingly higher status.

  As a commander—and a future Great General in the making—Schneizel was a man of immense influence. To someone like him, a provincial baron’s family must’ve been little more than an afterthought.

  As I pondered this, studying their faces, my eyes met Nichos’.

  He smiled at me.

  But his eyes—cold and still—remained untouched by that smile.

  His gaze was sharp, piercing, as if he could see right through me.

  Is he reading my thoughts, or am I just overthinking this?

  No idea.

  "Now that introductions are out of the way, shall we proceed to the main topic?"

  Main topic?

  Wait, is he about to scold me for leaving without permission?

  I instinctively braced myself, prompting Schneizel to step forward protectively. Damn, that’s cool.

  "Main topic? What’re you gettin’ at?"

  "Please, rest assured. I have no intention of provoking a conflict with you, Commander Schneizel. This is about… gratitude."

  "Gratitude?"

  "Indeed. It would be a disgrace for generations to come if I failed to express thanks to the one who saved my son in his time of need. Though hastily prepared, we’ve arranged a welcoming feast in your honor."

  "Heh. Well, I got stuff to talk about too. Fine by me."

  Uh, Schneizel? Aren’t you gonna ask how this guy knows you helped me?

  "Stuff to discuss… You mean Norwin’s apprenticeship, correct? We can cover that—and more—in the guest room."

  With an inscrutable smile, my father delivered those words, sending a chill down my spine.

  Nichos—Norwin’s father—should’ve been an irrelevant side character in the original story. So why does he feel so… unsettling?

  Guided by Nichos, we arrived at the main estate’s guest room and took our seats on the sofa as directed.

  The opulent space, with its dazzling decor, was a stark contrast to the annex. Even the furnishings alone made the difference painfully clear.

  Yeah… I really was being neglected, huh?

  It’s obvious at a gnce.

  While I nervously scanned the room, Schneizel sat perfectly still, not so much as twitching.

  Seated across from us, Nichos maintained his smile as he spoke.

  "First, regarding the apprenticeship—I have no objections. Please, train him as you see fit."

  "……Hah?"