Baron Rivelle's butler, who had been standing attentively by the door, immediately heard his master's words. Although his face remained composed, he was well aware that the Baron had not actually prepared three rooms within the manor. Still, he needed no verbal instruction. As the butler of the household, he instinctively understood that this was his cue to act at once and make the necessary arrangements.

Without hesitation, the butler's form blurred, vanishing from sight as he dashed deeper into the manor corridors. The Rivelle Manor, befitting the residence of a noble, was vast and finely constructed, its marble floors reflecting the warm glow of lanterns along the hallway. Despite its size, very few actually lived within its walls. Only the Baron himself, his wife, their children, and the butler resided there permanently. The numerous guest chambers and spare quarters often stood empty, yet always well-maintained, ready for use at a moment's notice.

Asher noticed the sudden disappearance of the butler from the doorway, but he said nothing. His sharp perception allowed him to deduce precisely what the old man was doing.

"Since this is everyone's first time here," Baron Rivelle said, his tone cordial, "allow me to give you a brief tour."

He rose from his seat with a fluid motion, his posture straight and regal. William and Finch, though familiar with the Baron through their families' connections, had never actually set foot in Rivelle territory before. If they had, the butler would certainly have recognized them immediately.

The three young men stood, following the Baron as he led the way out of the room. Their steps echoed softly against the polished floor. As they moved through the grand hallway, adorned with banners depicting the Rivelle family crest, the Baron gestured to various portraits and artifacts displayed along the walls, briefly explaining their history.

Asher, though seemingly uninterested, quietly observed everything. There was an unmistakable pressure that accompanied Baron Rivelle's movements, a subtle yet heavy presence that radiated strength and authority.

'Firmstar Life Rank,' Asher thought to himself after a moment's silent assessment.

Although the Baron was of the lowest noble rank, his power was by no means insignificant. Among the ten established Life Ranks, Firmstar stood as the sixth, well above the average soldier or knight. Asher did not know the Baron's precise Sub-Life Rank, nor did it particularly matter to him. What did matter, however, was the realization that even a Baron possessed strength formidable enough to command respect.

Some individuals preferred to conceal their Life Rank, as Asher himself often did, hiding their true strength from others. Yet there were also those, like Baron Rivelle, who saw no reason to mask it. The Baron's aura was open and unrestrained; his bearing alone revealed the measure of his power.

Asher could tell by the man's posture, by the way he walked with deliberate grace yet cautious awareness, that he was always prepared for combat. It didn't surprise him. The world of Crymora was not like the fantasy tales told in books, where nobles sent their knights to fight on their behalf while they remained safe behind palace walls, issuing commands from the comfort of their estates.

Here, nobles bled alongside their soldiers. They led their troops personally, standing on the front lines during battles and monster tides alike. In this world, status was hollow without personal power to back it. Even within the mighty Zarethorne Empire, there existed numerous individuals who dared to defy the Emperor himself, those whose personal strength rivaled his, despite lacking noble titles or heritage.

'Impressive,' Asher thought quietly, glancing at the Baron with renewed interest.

"Would you like to see my knights?" Baron Rivelle asked suddenly, his voice calm but carrying a note of pride. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back as he spoke, his stride steady and confident.

"Very much," William replied without hesitation. There was a spark of curiosity in his tone. He wished to compare Baron Rivelle's knights to the ones serving under his own family's command.

The Baron nodded, taking a left turn down a long corridor. After descending a flight of wide stone stairs, they exited the manor and crossed the courtyard toward another large structure situated on the far left side of the estate. Before they even reached the building, Asher could already hear the rhythmic clashing of steel echoing through the air.

The sound grew louder with every step until, upon entering the training hall, Asher was greeted by a sight that stirred something within him. The expanse before them was immense, the air alive with motion and energy. Over two hundred knights, men and women alike, moved with disciplined precision, their weapons slicing through the air in blurs of steel.

The clang of metal against metal reverberated through the open hall, followed by the rush of wind each time blades collided. Shockwaves rippled across the training ground as the knights struck and parried, their movements synchronized in practiced rhythm. Sweat glistened on their armor, and the atmosphere carried the heavy scent of iron and effort.

"Although the Monster Tide is expected to arrive within a day or two, according to our latest calculations," Baron Rivelle said, his voice raised slightly to be heard over the sound of clashing weapons, "it does not mean my knights are exempt from training. They continue to drill daily, though I have ordered them to moderate their intensity. After all, battle is unpredictable. Even our estimates could fail us, the Monster Tide could strike earlier, perhaps even today."

Asher's gaze swept across the field of warriors, and his mind drifted momentarily to the Wargrave Knight Order Round. He remembered the scene vividly, hundreds of trainees and seasoned knights honing their skills under the vigilant eyes of instructors. Before his meeting with Cassandra, he had seen the Wargrave Knights' sheer discipline and overwhelming strength firsthand. Though he didn't know the precise number of knights under his family's banner, he was certain it was in the thousands.

Here, by contrast, Baron Rivelle commanded a smaller force, just over two hundred knights by Asher's estimation. Yet their discipline was admirable.

'Of course, this might not be all his knights,' Asher thought, his purple eyes narrowing as he sensed something distinct, a presence that stood out from the rest. His attention shifted to a tall man observing the training ground from the far side, his expression calm and unreadable, his stance radiating authority.

Noticing Asher's gaze, Baron Rivelle explained, "That is the Knight Commander. He answers only to me."

Asher nodded slightly, assessing the man's aura. 'Wavestar Life Rank,' he concluded. From what he could sense, most of the knights here ranged between the Blazestar and Firmstar Ranks. The Commander, however, was clearly superior to them all, standing even above the Baron himself in power.

He found it curious. A man of such caliber could easily have sought service under a wealthier or higher-ranked noble house. Surely many offers had been made to him, yet he remained loyal to Baron Rivelle.

Asher shook his head faintly, dismissing the thought. It was none of his concern. After observing the knights' training for several more minutes, the Baron gestured for the group to follow him, and they began their walk back toward the manor.

Asher glanced once more at the knights as they departed. The sound of their synchronized strikes echoed behind him like thunder.

'I would have loved to cross blades with one of them,' he mused silently, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as they left the training ground and made their way back toward the manor's grand entrance.

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