Manfred spent quite a while recovering from the dizziness.

His vision was blurry, his face burned with pain, and it was difficult to even open his eyes.

Damn it, weren't nobles supposed to avoid hitting each other in the face during brawls?

With great effort, he slowly sat up from the ground, inching towards the two terrified women, pulling the rags out of their mouths. "Don't be afraid, let me catch my breath and untie your ropes."

The two women didn't even dare breathe loudly, simply nodding gently.

This time he paused even longer, gathering enough strength to loosen the ropes. "Alright, you can go. Be careful not to get caught by that guy again..."

That guy probably wouldn't have a chance anyway. Once the ship was filled with people and left the harbor, he'd run into migrants everywhere. Doing something like that in front of everyone, the other guy probably wouldn't have the guts.

The women, freed from their bonds, carefully skirted around him, then quickly ran out of the storage room—the hurried footsteps gradually fading away, eventually returning to silence.

From beginning to end, they still hadn't said a word, not even a thank you.

Manfred leaned against the wall, slowly exhaling, the coachman's words suddenly surfacing in his mind for some reason.

"I'm telling you, kid, don't always think of yourself as a great hero, especially out here... or one day, you're going to suffer a big loss."

He shook his head, pushing those distracting thoughts aside.

This kind of scene, he was already used to it, wasn't he?

Now he just hoped to get back to his assigned cabin before the official departure, and that no one had taken his bunk.

Suddenly, Manfred heard light footsteps again, accompanied by the "creak, creak" of the wooden planks, slowly approaching him.

Damn it, hadn't that McKinley guy had enough?

The footsteps stopped abruptly at the door of the storage room, then the door was pushed open a crack, and a head peeked in.

Manfred was stunned. It was one of the women who had escaped.

And when the door opened, he discovered that both of them were there—and the one standing behind was struggling to lift a wooden bucket, her movements stiff, as if she were using all her strength.

It wasn't until she placed the bucket in front of him that he noticed it was filled with clean water.

"You..."

One of them took out a handkerchief, wet it, and gently wiped the blood off his face, while the other apologized incessantly, "S-sorry, we got you beaten up like this. We were so scared at the time, that's why we didn't dare say a word... because, because... you said you were a noble too."

Manfred couldn't help but laugh.

Even though he was in pain all over, he didn't want to control his expression.

"Uh, what's wrong?"

"Didn't I say?" he interrupted her, "From the moment we boarded the ship, there are no more slaves and nobles—because the King of Graycastle not only abolished slavery, but also revoked all noble privileges. In other words, we're all the same people now."

That's right, Manfred was not unaware that there were no knights in Graycastle—merchants traveling to and from various places had long spread this news to Wolfheart. In the eyes of most nobles, this was simply outrageous, but it made him pay more attention to Wimbledon.

Since his family had declined, a question had been lingering in his mind: what exactly is a knight?

When his father was still alive, he had never considered this question, and assumed that inheriting this status was only a matter of time. But when the territory was annexed in the competition of various forces, Manfred found that things had become unexpected. The new lord ignored him, and those who were clearly unqualified became high and mighty, he seemed to have nothing left except a surname.

According to ancient books, the pioneering ancestors chose their most outstanding representatives as kings, and the kings then bestowed status and honor upon the brave and skilled warriors, to jointly defend the homeland and its people. This was the origin of titles. And knights, as those closest to the bottom, should be humble and compassionate, while upholding fairness and integrity, in order to make the territory prosperous.

It was because of these qualities that ordinary people did not possess that they were more noble.

This was also what Manfred had always wanted to become.

But now he couldn't figure out what the difference was between a knight and an ordinary person without land. What represented their nobility, was it those extraordinary spirits, or a land deed?

In the struggle for power and profit, the great lords' territories were changing every day, and among the people he knew, cripples could be knights, idiots could be knights, but he, without land, couldn't, which made him doubt the so-called "knight class."

Despite suffering setbacks after the decline of his family, Manfred's goal had never changed.

It could be said that he had long had the idea of going to Graycastle, all that was lacking was the travel expenses. Later, the people of Graycastle took the initiative to enter Wolfheart, and the large-scale migration of villagers from various towns became the best opportunity.

He wanted to know if he could still be a knight in a place where there were no more nobles.

After hearing the sentence "we are the same people," the expressions of the two women clearly relaxed a lot. "Really... is that so?"

"It's been spreading in noble circles for months, those big families can't wait to paint Wimbledon as a devil from hell," Manfred smiled weakly. "But now, they're probably all going to seek refuge with that most terrifying devil."

The one wiping him paused for a moment. "Why did you help us? Aren't you afraid of that noble..."

"He wouldn't dare kill me, because I already warned him," Manfred shook his head. "I don't know how the people of Graycastle will conduct the investigation, but I heard that witches are involved, and lying is absolutely impossible. Even if he doesn't think it's a crime to humiliate you, committing s*icide against another noble is definitely a crime that cannot be ignored, he knows that."

Saying this, he took a breath. "By the way, my name is Manfred Karstain, what are yours?"

How interesting, this was the fourth time he had given his name today, right?

"My name is Dailan," the other said softly, "Her name is Momo." She paused, as if making up her mind, "What that noble said is true, we were sold to—"

"I said, that was all before the ship, it's okay not to mention it," Manfred waved his hand. "Just like the coachman who brought me here said, no matter how you lived before, there will definitely be a new life waiting for us afterwards—if not, we wouldn't have decided to leave Wolfheart and go to a distant, unfamiliar place, would we?"

"Woo----------------------"

At this moment, a long and resonant horn sounded.

The departure time was approaching.

"Let's go back, it'll be a hassle if someone takes our spots," he struggled to stand up. Although he was still in a lot of pain, he should be able to make it back to the cabin with difficulty. "Me too, I don't want to sleep in the storage room for such a long journey."

The two women exchanged glances, and after hesitating for a moment, Dailan took out a white pill from her pocket and handed it to him.

"This is..."

"A medicine that can delay pain," Dailan said, "If you're in unbearable pain, lick it or break off a small piece to eat. But remember not to eat too much at once, because it can only delay the pain, not eliminate it."

Manfred took the pill with a puzzled look. Only delaying pain instead of stopping it, could there really be such a magical medicine in this world?

Dailan and Momo didn't explain further, and left the storage room carrying the bucket.

And this time, when the two reached the door, they stopped and bowed deeply to him. "Thank you, Mr. Karstain."

Manfred breathed a sigh of relief.

Not everyone is the same, are they?

That was enough.

He looked at the pill in his hand for a while, and tried putting it to his mouth and licking it.

A faint sweet taste spread from his tongue.

It was probably... a dumpling made of wheat flour? Maybe with a little honey added.

Maybe it was just a placebo stolen from the noble who bought her.

But the moment that thought popped up, something incredible happened.

Almost in an instant, he felt all the pain disappear, as if he had never been beaten at all.