His arm, where the whip had landed, burned like it was on fire. Kiole clenched his grip around the noble’s wrist, desperately trying not to look at the injured spot.

I’m... I’m a knight too!

There wasn’t a single person here with more martial skill than him. In this place, Kiole was the only knight.

A knight’s duty was to protect the weak. He had sworn it aloud when he was appointed.

That was all. That was the only reason he had stepped forward.

“You—you insolent wretch! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The noble howled, struggling to free his arm. When he couldn’t shake off Kiole’s grip, his coachman and servant rushed over in a panic.

“You scum! Let the young master go!”

Kiole blocked the whip and stick they swung at him by pulling the chain of his shackles taut between his hands. The iron chains were heavy and unwieldy, but for once, they served a purpose.

But before Kiole could properly exchange blows with them, the cries of the other prisoners behind him halted him.

“Don’t! Hurting a noble is a serious crime! You won’t get off with just labor!”

“Stop! Please, just stay still!”

The prisoners’ voices, filled with genuine concern for Kiole, rang out.

Normally, he would have ignored such pleas without a second thought... but to his own disbelief, those words made his body hesitate—like something had caught him by the ankle.

And in that instant, the noble’s servant struck Kiole on the head with his stick.

—Thunk!

Kiole’s vision spun violently as his legs gave out. He dropped to his knees and collapsed. The world was spinning before his eyes.

“Grab him! Quickly!”

“Yes, sir!”

Kiole was subdued in an instant. As he lay pinned to the ground, the noble approached, trembling with rage, and raised his hand.

—CRACK!

The whip lashed his body. The pain was so sharp it snapped his consciousness into focus, despite the nausea and dizziness.

“What’s this? Not even a scream? You’ve got spirit, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long that lasts—until you’re bawling and begging!”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t screamed—it just hurt so much that no sound would come out. But being taunted like that only made Kiole more determined to stay silent. He bit his lip and writhed like a worm, enduring the pain.

—CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!

Every strike felt like a bolt of lightning slamming into him. Shudders wracked his body with each hit, and his clenched teeth let out only strangled gasps of pain.

Damn it. It hurts. It hurts so much...!

No one—not even that demon Yuder Aile—had ever beaten Kiole la Diarka like this. It was the first time he’d felt pain this humiliating and degrading. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The noble, enraged by the sight, shouted even louder.

“You vile creature! You dare defy me, a noble, while wearing prison chains?! Do you even know who I am?!”

He didn’t. And the fact that Kiole didn’t know meant this man belonged to some insignificant house. Who was he to demand recognition?

If only I weren’t in this situation...!

Gasping for breath, Kiole forced his lips to part.

“You... you should know who I—”

“Please, please stop! At this rate, you’ll kill him!”

A prisoner interrupted, shielding Kiole with his body.

“If you keep beating him, he might really die!”

“Our overseer will be back any minute! Talk to him instead!”

“What’s this? Are all of you asking to die as well?!”

The noble bellowed in fury, but the prisoners didn’t back down.

“We’re just workers doing what we’re told! That young man didn’t know better—please, noble sir, show him mercy...”

“He’s clearly learned his lesson now—look at him. Please be merciful!”

“Please...”

Kiole saw their legs trembling in his blurry vision. They weren’t unafraid. They were terrified—more than he was. But they had stepped in anyway, risking punishment to protect him.

They were just fellow prisoners, not even acquaintances. And yet...

Kiole stared blankly at their backs. The bitter resentment he’d felt just moments ago seemed to melt away like snow in the sun.

And then—

“What’s all this commotion?”

The overseer returned.

The same man who had worked the prisoners like a demon now seemed like an angel. He slowly surveyed the scene: the noble with the whip, the kneeling prisoners, and Kiole collapsed behind them. His frown deepened.

“Are you the one in charge of these prisoners?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been a week since I requested repairs outside Baron Radmozel’s villa in the Miknon district! Yet instead of answering, you’ve gone and fixed some invisible side road first! How can you claim this wasn’t a deliberate insult to our house?!”

His roar was enough to make the prisoners flinch—but the overseer didn’t even blink. He just tilted his head slightly, like someone listening to a dog barking.

“So you punished the prisoners over that? Beating one bloody?”

“That was no mere punishment! They insulted me—and this one dared to lay hands on my body! He deserves this and more!”

“You agree with that?”

The overseer asked Kiole directly. The unexpected question caught him off guard.

“Why are you asking him anything? Just tend to my request—”

“I’ll get to that. But first, I need to assess the situation. Please be quiet.”

“What?! Are you seriously—”

“So, is what he said true?”

The overseer ignored the noble and repeated the question to Kiole. Slowly, Kiole shook his head.

“...He was going to hit someone first, so I stepped in. All I did was grab his arm. Nothing more.”

The blunt, insolent tone made the other prisoners gasp.

“O-Overseer, sir... he may sound rude, but he’s a good lad. He means no harm, really—”

“So that’s how it was. Understood.”

The overseer nodded coolly, arms crossed. Then he turned to the surrounding prisoners.

“And the rest of you? Tell me what you saw.”

The stunned prisoners, seeing hope in his calm demeanor, rushed to speak up, eyes wide and voices quivering.

“He’s telling the truth! We were just working like usual, but then that nobleman came over and—”

The overseer didn’t stop them. He let them say everything.

Watching it all unfold, Kiole felt that odd sense of déjà vu again.

I’ve definitely seen him somewhere before...

He hadn’t spoken privately with the overseer even once during his time here, so it had slipped his mind. But now, the familiarity was too strong to ignore.

Who is he? Where have I seen him...?

“Enough! What is this circus?! If you continue to ignore me, I’ll report you, Overseer!”

“Go ahead.”

The overseer replied in a tone more fitting for a back-alley thug than a public official. The noble blinked, stunned by what he’d just heard, while the overseer stepped forward and smiled with a menacing glint in his eye.

“These prisoners aren’t just doing labor. They’re restoring the Seventh Wall of Luma—piece by piece, in strict order and placement. His Majesty the Emperor, the Chancellor, and even the Palace Mage Office are closely monitoring this. And you want me to throw all that away to appease you? Hm?”

“W-What...?”

“So you’re saying, noble sir, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ that your authority exceeds His Majesty’s? Is that what you mean? Hm?”

“I—I never said that!”

“Oh, didn’t you? Then why are you beating up people who are carrying out the Emperor’s orders and getting in the way of their work? Sounds like treason to me. If anyone should be reported, it’s you, don’t you think?”

“...!”

“Your section isn’t the only one that’s not done. Even the most prominent ducal houses are quietly waiting their turn. You think they’re doing that because they have nothing better to do?”

The noble was at a loss for words. In fact, he looked more shaken by the mention of ducal houses than the Emperor himself. The overseer’s lip curled into a crooked smirk.

With a casual motion, he approached Kiole, lifted his wrist, and gave it a gentle shake.

“Looks like this arm might be broken. Gonna cost a fortune to treat. He’s one of the few prisoners here who actually does good work. And thanks to Baron Radmozel’s interference, everyone else’s repairs will be delayed. Should I pass that along?”

“Y-You dare try to threaten me—?!”

“Hm?”

And then—it happened. Kiole noticed the expressions around him shift.

“That young man’s face...!”

“His hair color’s changed!”

“What’s going on?! What happened?!”

Kiole hadn’t realized it, but during the scuffle, the cuff on his wrist had loosened. It had sustained damage during the whipping, and when the overseer had shaken his arm, it had further disrupted the magical disguise bracelet hidden beneath—enough to break its effect.

The overseer, Debran Hartude, feigned dramatic shock as he shouted upon seeing Kiole’s real face.

“What the—who are you?!”

“I...”

“Could he be... an undercover agent sent by His Majesty to investigate the labor system?!”

Kiole didn’t even need to answer.

That resounding shout echoed beyond the alley.