That answer of his still lingered within his mind. He wasn't expecting the bartender to ask such a thing, nor did he expect to give an answer to it.

However, the answer he had given was more of a question to himself than a proper answer. It had been at least a great time, no more than a year, since he's left the ranks of the Holy Order of Solgaria, the great knights that served the dukedom of the same name, and a majority of the high-ranking members within the order served as retainers to the lords of Norwalk. The Norwalk family is the current rulers of the dukedom of Solgaria, and the knight was of status, a former retainer to them. But he had left them due to its current state.

So the question as to what his place in this world would be an obvious one if he were to continue remaining with the Norwalk family. Their loyal knight to the family, and the oath they had taken on during the ceremonial blessing when being inducted into the order, to serve as the indomitable sword and shield of the dukedom. And to always have faith in them.

But of course, he wouldn't be on this journey of discovering his purpose and whether his actions mattered or not if the faith in the Norwalk family didn't shatter and waver at all. One might say it was petty of him for a knight such as himself to abandon his duty and oath over such a thing. But the knight had to. He couldn't bear the fact that, nor did he want to accept the fact that his entire purpose from then may have very well been to cause havoc and destruction, sowing the seeds of discontent throughout the lands.

Pushing through the doors of the tavern, walking down the steps of the porch, his ears caught wind of a conversation of the current ongoing war on hand. The leading power, his former dukedom, Solgaria, at the forefront of invasion. Several other lands that were keen on expanding and greedy for power had decided to ally themselves with them. One such example was the warrior dukedom, the Realm of Leistana. A relatively small dukedom when it came to the powers of Solgaria and the other dukedom, Rostam, but a reason why they've survived as a powerful dukedom till now was many factors. For one, Leistana has produced a number of fierce, and often considered, bloodthirsty warriors and armies. Firm protectors of their territory and a force of unchallenged might to a degree, they were a dukedom to be wary of. While their ambition of wanting to expand their lands has dwindled a considerable amount of the years, the moment one nation is vulnerable, they won't hesitate to take their chance at the opportunity. Many like to consider them foolish and dimwitted brutes, but that wasn't the case at all. They could be cunning individuals whenever they want to, and should they need to in order to win any sort of situation. Diplomacy or on the battlefield.

Just as he began to walk toward the outskirts of the town and continue onward on his journey, he couldn't help but overhear some of the guards talking from the nearby guardhouse. He stopped for a moment and began to listen in.

"But, sir! The village back five miles is callin' out for help...!" A junior guardsmen spoke, only to receive a head shake from who seemed to be the captain. "Sir, I beg of ya. I've got family back ov'e there. At least let me take a small platoon."

The captain sneered, "You out of ya mind, boy? That village borders Leistana territory. Just headin' over there is askin' to get yourself killed. Those Leistanians are nothin' but barbaric bastards."

"But cap'n, we can't just let 'em all die like dogs an' rabid animals. Isn't that our duty? To go out an' protect the weak?"

"What are we, rangers, boy? We're just the village guard, not guardsmen like them folk in Solgaria. Even if we wanted to, we lack the means to do so. So how 'bout you pipe down already an' get back to ya fuckin' post!"

"Cap'n—"

"I said back to your fuckin' post, rookie!" The captain turned around and smacked the junior knight in the jaw. "You fuckin' deaf or somethin'! I told ya already to drop it but you can't seem to fuckin' listen! When I say drop it, you fuckin' drop it! Ya understan' me!?"

The junior knight spat out some blood, along with a couple of teeth. He heaved a sigh and looked up at his captain with a glare, showing no sign of backing down on his plight. The wandering knight stared at the young one intently, analyzing what sort of move he would make.

He noticed a fire of intensity and vigor in the young man's eyes. To stare up in defiance in the face of a superior was admirable, but most people would think of him as a fool for doing so. Whether they be guardsmen, the castle guard, an order of protectors, or the village guard, their primary duty is to protect the weak and innocent. No matter the cost. Such a duty was both a privilege and honor.

And for this captain to neglect that job was but a mere stain on his honor and character, but one look at the older man and the wandering knight understood. He was a coward and nothing more, bent on obtaining power in order to live the life as he pleases. And he obtained that power by becoming captain of the village guard, holding an amount of authority that was just below the village lord of this settlement.

Speaking of this lord, where was he? He couldn't possibly agree with this viewpoint, can he? Local and small settlements had an understanding to help one another if they were part of the same nation and dukedom. But the matter of the predicament was that the nearby village calling for help was on the borders of Leistana. And while both Solgaria and Leistana were both allied and currently in an alliance, there were many among the people on both sides that considered each other enemies.

The people among Solgaria's smaller villages thought of the Leistanians as lower brigands and barbaric beasts whilst the people of Leistana saw the Solgarians as snobbish artisans caught up in their arrogant politics.

The young squire scowled at his captain. "You're just a meager coward, cap'n. Solely focused—"

The captain kicked the young man's face, "Who ya callin' a coward, huh!? You think you can come in 'ere and tell me what to do, eh!? Let me remind ya again, I'm the fuckin' cap'n round here an' I call the shots as well! You're nothin' but a lowly recruit that kept beggin' on our fuckin' doors to take ya in!"

"Cap'n, I think that's—" Another one of the guardsmen went to speak up, but...

"No! Remember this, you lot! I'm the one round here who fuckin' pays ya to do your fuckin' jobs! All of ya are nothin' but braggarts that came up off the streets an' had nowhere to fuckin' go! Some of ya are just escaped convicts from Solgaria's capital! So let me remind you, the one who gave ya a home an' job to even live in is me! An' I can take it all away, ya hear me!? Now get back out there and do your fuckin' jobs! The moment you bring up that bullshit again, I'm cuttin' ya fuckin' balls off!"

He soon snarled, feeling the gaze of the wandering knight piercing into his back. Turning around, he gave him a rather menacing glare, but to be honest, the knight had seen far more intimidating things than this. He had faced greater opponents and adversaries than this lowly captain of a village guard.

"What you lookin' at, eh? Got somethin' to say to my face?" The knight remained silent, which seemed to piss the captain off even more. "Well!? Say somethin' then!"

"...Nothing. Was just passing through."

"Then bugger off! Before I have ya arrested for loiterin' round here!"

"I was just leaving." The knight's metal and clunky footsteps began.

"That's right..." It seemed the captain tried to mutter something to himself, but the knight was still within earshot. "Dishonorable scum. Fuckin' stickin' your nose in somethin' you shouldn't."

The knight halted, something the captain took notice of. Was his actions to depart from the Holy Order dishonorable? In short, yes.

But of course, those that had witnessed what he witnessed will know that the reason behind such a thing was far more complicated. The knight didn't make this decision willingly, however, as previously noted, he left because of his dwindling faith the longer he stayed and saw the deplorable acts.

However, to be called dishonorable by this disgrace of a captain, who decided to forsworn the duty he should be upholding by responding to the pleas of a nearby village, especially a village in which that is in ally territory. Even though this village sat on the borders of Leistana and Solgaria, this village held residents of both nations alike. To abandon their allied residents there was very much the same as abandoning their very own.

"I did forsake my oath that day..." The knight began, causing the captain to halt and warily turn himself back over. "I have never forgotten it. I stained my honor by abandoning the sacred duty of protecting the noble family... However, if there is one thing I will not abandon at all, it is the duty we all share."

"You tellin' me how I should do my fuckin' job, mate?"

"The village guard. The guardsmen. Crownsguard. The Holy Order. Knights... It matters not what organization we belong to. The duty we share is the same. Abandoning the innocents and citizenry is something more dishonorable than abandoning an oath made to some noble in a castle."

The captain let out a rather bellowing laughter. "You out of your goddamn mind, mate? Not every one of us is doin' this out of the goodness of our hearts, ya know. This is a job, nothin' more than that."

"This job, this duty... It is a privilege." The knight stood his ground, his armored boots digging deep into the dirt as he clutched his longsword tightly. "There is no higher honor than that. If you can't seem to grasp the importance of it... Then you fail as a captain, let alone holding a sword."

"Ya think you're better than me!? Just because you were a goddamn knight of Norwalk, that don't mean you're a better sword than me!"

"Trial by combat."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"You..." The captain started laughing, "Ya fuckin' joking with me!"

The knight didn't say anything, merely dropping his knapsack to the ground. Taking a few steps forward, he unsheathed his longsword, the blade of the magnificent weapon glimmering brightly in the sunlight, despite the black sheen to its body. Putting one foot forward, his right knee bent and the left leg extended backward, two hands were placed on the handle of the sword. His arms looked as though he was tucking the pommel and handle slightly inward toward his lower abs, his arms like they were in a juxtaposition.

Seeing as he was serious, the captain looked to his subordinates and growled, gesturing his head to form a dueling square. The other guardsmen looked to each other for a moment before they went to do what they were ordered, one grabbing the downed junior guard that was on the ground and begin dragging him away. Once that was settled, the other guards then began to form a square around the two duelists, giving them ample space to move around and swing their swords around without restraint.

Drawing his own longsword, the guard captain put both hands on the handle as well, the sword positioned above his head without exception. The knight steeled himself and analyzed his opponent. Judging from the way his arms were moved and how the sword was positioned, the stance the guard captain took was an upper guard, or Vom Tag as it is most commonly called. One of the more basic and beginner guard stances that squires begin to learn when beginning the path of the sword. This is mostly because a majority of principal and basic strikes could be executed using this guard stance. Overhead strikes along with slashes coming from the upper side were something commonly used when using this stance as well. It seemed he had some training after all.

A moment of silence between the two, a slight whistling in the wind as the oncoming breeze brushed a few leaves and twigs through their dueling ground. By now, the junior guard had been roused from his earlier daze, wondering what the commotion was about. It wasn't until his eyes were locked onto his captain and a mysterious knight at a standoff, beginning to pace each other in a circle, staring into their gazes without interruption.

They paced at each other for what seemed like minutes on end. Boots grinding on the gravel and dirt as they moved, an aura of tension that was quite heavy with how intensely they were staring at each other.

Three. Two. One. The captain was the first to initiate the attack.

A battle cry as he charged forward, he went for a simple overhead strike. Amateur, is what the knight thought. Something so foreseeable and easy to dodge with a simple side step. A loud clang echoed throughout the area, the guard captain grunting before he immediately followed up with an air strike from the left side, having returned back to the Vom Tag stance.

*Clink*

Armored gloved hands firmly gripping the sword tightly, the knight did a quick thrust forward and blocked the attack. The stance the knight adopted was known as the Plow stance, or Pflug, another basic guard that new learners begin to practice that is proficient in thrusts and quick cuts toward the hands and arms. It is a universal guard also perfect for parrying strikes, so it was essentially a combined stance that boasts incredible defense and quick attacks. Truly a deadly combo when the longsword is placed in the hands of a professional.

A few more strikes came his way, the knight responding easily with his Pflug stance as the rhythmic clanging and clinking of the blades continued to make some sort of music. Sparks flew, the guard captain's mouth open as he let out a yell with each heave he took. His strikes and attacks were unrefined and sloppy, focusing more on brute strength than skill and speed. While the knight was calm and poised, putting more focus on his defense to continue tiring out his opponent. Holding his blade with precision and grace, adamant and confident in his own strength and stamina, while also knowing the gap of experience and combat ability.

The knight knew, no doubt that his opponent was perhaps a brigand or a mercenary before becoming some village guard. But while some seasoned mercenaries and sellswords were proficient and an expert in their weaponry, he could deduce that the guard captain in front of him had most likely got far enough in his life by overpowering his opponents by sheer strength alone. Not a single bit of discipline regarding his swordplay at all.

It was like he was taught before. Anyone could pick up a sword and swing it around, doing and dealing damage to people. However, the difference about this is whether the person was willing enough to put in the effort to learn and effectively use the techniques properly. Only then could a sword be truly dangerous, wielded in the hand of a skilled warrior.

"Rraaaahh! Haaaah!" The guard captain yelled, his strikes becoming more erratic and impatient the more he realized he wasn't getting far.

"Hmph." Calm and collected, the knight responded in accordance with the proper stance.

*Clink* *Clank* *Clink*

The same noises continued to happen repeatedly. It was the same thing, rinse and repeat. The guard captain continued with his strategy of trying to overpower the knight with sheer force and brute strength. But against a well seasoned warrior and fighter like himself, and has better experience, he wasn't getting anywhere with the same tactic he was utilizing.

Parrying another strike, the knight made his move. In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, the knight made two swift horizontal cuts onto the guard captain's exposed areas of his arms. The captain stumbled back, huffing and puffing in anger, in slight disbelief as he examined his body. He had actually been cut... From someone he considered beneath him. Unthinkable.

He stared at him. The knight continued to remain in his Pflug stance, still remaining calm and relatively collected. He wasn't agitated or at all unnerved in the slightest. The knight knew better than to be angered or annoyed, to be dismayed by other outside forces and distractions. By now, he could probably understand what was going through the captain's mind.

"My men must be thinking lowly of me" or "My men must be judging me at a poor rate right about now". No doubt that was running through the guard captain's mind, considering that he was making a fool of himself during this little duel between himself and this supposed disgraced knight. Just the mere thought of his men speaking ill of him behind his back made the guard captain grind his teeth, the ongoing rage beginning to build up. As if his rage hadn't been building up in the first place. The moment the knight even proposed a trial by combat, he considered it a waste of his time. However, if he backed down from the challenge, that would only prove to his men that he was a coward, given by the assumptions made from the junior guard and the knight wanting this duel.

Exhaling an angered huff of air, the guard captain roared once more and began to put his all into this very strike. With his sword raised up, and with all his might, he brought it down in hopes of bisecting the knight in half, head first. And even though the armor he wore was quite heavy, the knight displayed his agile and nimble reactions, a quick dash back with his step as his opponent's longsword bounced off the dirt ground, kicking up some slight debris. The guard captain was now in a moment of vulnerability, the knight taking this chance as he rushed forward and bashed his armored shoulder pauldron into the man's chest. The guard captain coughed in pain, dropping his blade in the process as he fell to the ground and onto his back. He tries to pick himself up, only for him to hold his breath as the tip of the knight's blade was pointed directly at his nose. Sweat pooled down his face, his previous angered and erratic behavior was now replaced with anxiousness and slight fear. The first time ever he was placed into a life and death scenario, and it was being bested by a measly knight in his eyes.

And although he couldn't see the knight's eyes, he could feel that burning gaze being directed at him, almost like they were powerful flames burning through his entire body. His body even quivered, his hands gripping at the dirt floor below.

"Well? Do it then!" The guard captain spat, egging for the knight to take his life. Trial by combat usually ended with one or the other's death.

Briefly unclenching the handle before gripping it tightly once more, the knight withheld the urge to even push his blade through the man's skull. Even if he wanted to, it wouldn't even grant him a hint of satisfaction to take this man's life. He didn't deserve it, and death was far too much honor than he deserved.

Retracting the blade from his nose, the guard captain's mouth agape but also letting out a sigh of relief, the knight began to walk away. The guard captain heaved himself up and got onto his knees.

"The fuck are ya doin'!? Finish the duel, dammit! Kill me already!"

"No." His tone blunt and sharp, he turned his head back slightly, "I'd be wasting my energy killing someone like you."

"The fuck you say, mate!?"

"I have encountered many adversaries in my service to the Norwalk family. And honestly... You don't even hold a candle to any I've faced."

To be acknowledged as a worthless adversary, someone not even worth killing in a duel, made the man's blood boil. Scrambling to his feet and regaining his footing, he scampered over to his fallen blade and picked up, and in a thrusting motion, attempted to stab the knight in the back. With quick reflexes, however, the knight turned around and assumed a different stance.

Squatting slightly, his left leg placed a little bit forward, he places his longsword's hilt onto his upper arm and lets it rest there. This guard stance, known as the Key, or Schlüssel, was supposedly the stance known to break and counter all other stances. Thrusting his blade forward, he struck the guard captain's shoulder. Because of the nature of this guard stance, it meant for the opponent to move out of their current guard and be forced to react to it. The guard captain reacted by attempting to stop on his heels and attempt to block the attack. But he miscalculated at the height the knight's sword would come into his space, the sound of screeching metal as the edges collided and grinded against one another, sparks flying.

A piercing scream was let out, the guard captain having dropped to the ground again, his arm lying next to him and a profusely bleeding area of where the appendage once was. How it happened, once the blade struck into his shoulder, it went deeper. With the surging pain now coursing through him, the guard captain gripped the blade, causing the metal edge to dig into his hands, blood staining the black sheen of the metal. What the knight could do is gently pull out his sword from his shoulder, but to even strike someone in the back whilst they weren't looking, especially at the fact that they had recently lost a duel, was something he couldn't necessarily forgive. While he did consider the guard captain a worthless adversary, if he had somehow lost the duel himself, and if he were to be taunted by him, he wouldn't act on such convictions to even retaliate back in the way the captain did. So in order to teach him a lesson, he decided to take away whatever made him a warrior in the first place, slicing and cutting the arm cleanly off.

Now towering over him with a daunting stature, now that he was on the floor and staring up at him, the knight gave off a rather intimidating presence and aura. A loud thunk was heard, the knight stabbing the tip into the ground and placing both hands onto the pommel.

"To have the gall to strike someone in the back, right after you lose... I know more beasts and bandits that have more honor than you do."

"You fuckin'...! Sonuvabitch! I'll fuckin' kill ya!"

"I would kill you, but..." The knight paused briefly, "Death is far too much honor than you deserve."

"You little...!"

"I will not kill you. Nor will I help you," the knight spoke, sheathing his blade. He looked at the other subordinates. "Any of you. Grab the town's doctor. Now."

His authoritarian tone struck an immediate response to them, prodding for two of them to hurry over and grab their writing captain and help him back into town in order to find the nearest doctor. With the rest of the company and the knight being by themselves, the metal clad warrior turned to the rest of them.

"How can the lot of you still stand by him, a man willing to abandon his post and duty, just for the sake of living and staying alive? To abandon others? Innocents?" He received no response from them, the only thing they did was shuffle in their spots or look to one another. "Despicable. While many of you may be former criminals and ruffians, escaped convicts, and picking this job as something to escape from... How can you stand by and let innocents die, knowing that you could've done something?"

"You really think them lords an' nobles will just let our past crimes be washed away? It ain't that easy for everythin' to be washed away overnight." One piped up.

"You're right. It won't. However, if you can show them that you truly want change, a better life, but most importantly, forgiveness and redemption... It may very well happen one day." He brought a fist to his chest, "When I took my oath as a Knight of Norwalk, I strived everyday to ensure that no one. Women, children, anyone. No one had to endure the strifes of war and the grievances of violence. And while Solgaria is no longer what it once was, someone... No, others have to fulfill the role of protector. Because if there is nothing to stand as that role... Then the ones that suffer may not just be innocents. But our loved ones as well."

They were silent for the most part. Until another guardsmen spoke up, "Then... Then what do you propose we do?"

"...We start by riding out to the village that requires reinforcements. While others may have responded to the call, we cannot count our chances on that." The knight then picked up his knapsack and began making for the stables at the guardhouse. "Now, hurry! Time is of the essence!"

With the troops being rallied, making haste for the horses, they set their sights on their objective. Focused, determined, and eager to complete it.

Like the knight said, it may be a longshot for redemption, but it was a start. And to put it in perspective, those citizens pleading for help may well be their very own relatives. That very fact would put a stain on their consciousness and haunt them. If no one was to protect them, who else would be their shield? Their protector?

They may very well never receive the reward they want, to become free men again in the city of Solgaria, but if they wanted to get even the sliver of a chance. They had to fight for it.

And prove their worth.

What better way to do that than start by being the shields the innocent needed?