Inside the armory, rows of wooden boxes were neatly arranged along the wall, each marked with a number and the owner's name.
The knights quickly found their boxes, lifting the heavy crates in pairs or individually, containing a full set of plate armor, which was quite heavy.
"Hey, be careful, that's my treasure," a knight said to his assistant, his tone half-joking, half-serious.
"I know, I know, your 'tin lover'," the companion replied with a smile, and together they carried the box out of the armory.
On the training ground, people appeared one after another, following the usual order to line up, forming neat squares before Dalton and Phillip.
In front of each stood a wooden box containing their plate armor, and no one whispered among themselves.
Everyone stood straight, looking straight ahead, awaiting further instructions.
But beneath this silence, among those who had performed poorly in previous trials and had not passed the assessment, undercurrents stirred.
Even those who had shown cowardice or selfishness had already begun to change expressions.
Sweat trickled from their temples – not from the fatigue of carrying the boxes, but from internal tension and fear.
A man in his thirties clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.
In the previous trial, he had abandoned a wounded comrade and retreated alone out of excessive fear.
Although this matter was not publicly condemned, everyone understood it well.
At that moment, a frightening thought kept flashing through his mind.
"Are we going to be settled with? Will we be stripped of our identity and have the plate armor, symbolizing honor and status, returned?"
If so... He was going to return to the village, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
Despite Lord Karl's presence, the lives of the villagers had significantly improved compared to before.
Now they could eat meat every two or three days, so they didn't have to save a few eggs for holidays.
But having experienced a better life, he no longer wanted to pick up a hoe again and return to a life facing the yellow earth.
No, perhaps even worse, because after experiencing "exile," he couldn't even hold his head high in the village.
In the knightly order, there was enough meat daily, and it was free.
Although the training was tough, he felt himself growing stronger every day, learning combat techniques and knowledge, and also having the opportunity to learn forging or other crafts.
Such a way of life was something most commoners on Terra's territory wouldn't even dare to dream of.
He secretly glanced at his colleagues and noticed that many of them also had anxiety in their eyes; he was not the only one with similar fears.
At the very front of the group stood Dalton and Phillip side by side.
Both were equally suspicious, but most of all, they were determined to carry out Karl's orders.
They slightly tilted their heads and whispered in voices that were barely audible.
"Why hasn't Lord Karl arrived yet?" Dalton glanced at the rising sun.
"It should be soon," Phillip said quietly.
They waited a little longer. On the training ground, besides the wind, there was no sound; the ranks of knights remained neat and orderly.
Just as Dalton was wondering whether to send someone to check, he blinked.
In an instant, a figure silently appeared before them, standing with his back to them, facing the entire phalanx of knights.
Dalton and Phillip caught their breath; they had no idea how Karl had gotten there.
No footsteps, no cutting of the air, not the slightest movement.
It was as if the man had been standing there from the start, only just noticed.
What shocked them even more was that the special connection they had established with Karl during the practice of Sun Breathing was now "failing."
No, it wasn't invalid – it was "delayed" – about half a second after Karl appeared before them.
That familiar, sun-drenched feeling finally came from Karl.
They moved closer together, and Dalton barely breathed a voice: "The induction is delayed... what's going on?"
Phillip frowned deeply and whispered: "Never before has Lord Karl been invisible, and we can sense his presence with the breathing techniques..."
"There are two possibilities: either the Lord consciously blocked it, or he blocked our perception of him," Dalton whispered.
"But there's no reason for him to do so, at least in this situation."
Phillip nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes: "Dalton, I lean towards the other possibility."
"The Lord was originally outside our perception range, but moved at an incredible speed directly in front of us – so fast that we didn't react in time."
This speculation sent a chill down their spines; although the detection range was limited, it was almost a hundred meters.
How fast would one have to move to cause such an almost instinctive sense and "delay"?
At that moment, the phalanx of knights also noticed Karl's sudden appearance, though they couldn't clearly see how he had arrived.
But when the familiar figure appeared in their field of vision, everyone instinctively straightened up and simultaneously shouted: "Lord Karl!"
Their voices rang out in unison over the training ground, and Karl nodded slightly.
He didn't waste time explaining how he arrived or the contents of the orders.
He spoke directly, his voice clear to everyone: "Next, those whose numbers I call will place their boxes of plate armor before me."
He didn't have a list in his hand, but he began to freely recite a string of numbers: "Seven, eight, sixteen, twenty-nine..."
The numbered knights were first stunned, but quickly reacted, immediately picking up or lifting the box before them and quickly walking towards Karl.
Then place the suitcase, bow to him, and quickly return to their place in the line.
The entire process was orderly, only the dull thud of the box hitting the ground, boots, and footsteps could be heard.
One after another, wooden boxes were stacked before Karl.
Soon, over three hundred boxes of almost identical size were neatly arranged in one spot.
When the last knight whose number was called returned to the line, Karl's gaze swept over the mountain of wooden boxes before him.
He made a simple gesture, raising his right hand palm up and making a slight "lift" motion.
The next moment, a scene that stunned everyone occurred – over three hundred wooden boxes simultaneously lifted off the ground and floated upward.
They didn't float randomly, but automatically adjusted their position and stacked layer upon layer, as if arranged by an invisible hand.
From scattered locations, they transformed into a neat, compact "box wall," with each layer precisely aligned.
Karl held the chest in an empty pose with one hand, all the boxes suspended above his palm, layer upon layer, over four meters high.