Chapter 14: The Fallen Silver Armor.

The morning sunlight poured across the streets of White Rose District, carrying the fresh, earthy fragrance left by last night’s rain.

Breakfast time for the Iron Sword Party.

At the table, Hill was enjoying a fluffy thick omelette roll, accompanied by a cup of warm milk.

In the corner, Nya squatted on her designated rug, clutching an enormous bowl filled to the brim with dried little fish. She ate with such enthusiasm that her tail thrashed wildly behind her.

“Hill.”

Phyllis set down her teacup and gracefully dabbed the corner of her mouth.

“I’ve written a summary report about yesterday’s dungeon run.”

“So formal?”

Hill looked up in mild surprise.

“Of course. Reviewing past performance is the foundation of getting stronger.”

Phyllis produced a sheet of parchment covered in her neat, elegant handwriting.

“While Hill’s swordsmanship was flawless, the terrain severely limited your evasion space when facing area attacks. And Nya…”

Phyllis cast a faint glance toward the cat-eared girl in the corner.

Nya instantly froze mid-chew, ears standing straight up in tension.

“…her scouting ability is acceptable, but her body is too fragile. In sudden crises, she can only run away and cannot relieve frontal pressure for you.”

Phyllis concluded calmly.

“The conclusion is clear: we need a wall.”

“You mean… a heavy-armor knight?”

Hill nodded.

“Indeed. If we’d had someone holding a shield in front yesterday, I wouldn’t have had to dodge around so much.”

“Exactly. A tank who can draw aggro, has thick skin and high durability, and obeys orders unconditionally.”

Phyllis smiled as she delivered the somewhat ruthless job description.

Ten o’clock in the morning, Adventurers’ Guild.

Despite the new recruitment notice being posted, very few dared apply.

Phyllis’s strict hygiene clauses—combined with the requirement of not only being strong but also willing and able to take fatal hits for the Captain—had scared off most candidates.

Hill propped her chin on her hand, boredly watching the adventurers come and go in the hall.

Just then, a nearby argument caught her attention.

“I already said—I don’t accept this kind of loot distribution!”

A clear yet slightly stiff female voice rang out.

Hill turned her head.

The speaker was a young woman clad in full silver plate armor.

Her hair blazed like fire—vivid red. Her features were proper and symmetrical, yet her expression was taut with unyielding seriousness.

At her feet rested an enormous kite shield emblazoned with an iris crest—a noble’s emblem, though the shield itself was covered in countless scratches.

Facing her was a sleazy-looking thief captain.

“Come on, Lady Alyssa, this is the Adventurers’ Guild, not your knight order. Loot goes to whoever grabs it first. That ‘distribute according to need’ knightly code of yours is outdated!”

“That’s theft! Banditry!”

The knight named Alyssa flushed crimson with anger.

“If everyone only thinks about grabbing loot in battle and ignores covering their teammates, what kind of party is that?!”

“Tch. Stubborn as hell. No wonder three parties already kicked you out.”

The thief captain waved dismissively.

“Get lost, penniless noble lady. We don’t carry dead weight.”

Alyssa bit her lip hard. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword until her knuckles whitened.

But in the end, she released it, picked up her heavy shield with resentment, and turned to leave.

Murmurs and mocking laughter rippled through the surrounding crowd.

In this profit-driven circle, those who clung stubbornly to old codes were usually the punchline.

Hill watched that lonely yet ramrod-straight back. Something stirred in her eyes.

That clumsy, earnest righteousness reminded her of certain comrades from her previous life.

“Phyllis.”

Hill turned.

“I know.”

Before Hill could even finish, Phyllis had already stood up.

She had been watching the scene the entire time.

The female knight’s personality seemed troublesome, yes—but that armor’s thickness…

Mm. Looked very durable.

And her current isolated situation made her easy to control.

Alyssa von Hornheim was at the lowest point of her life.

To revive her declining family, she had set aside noble pride and come here to become an adventurer—only to discover reality was far crueler than she imagined.

“Is upholding the knightly code really wrong…?”

Just as she dragged her heavy steps toward the exit, a gentle voice stopped her.

“Please wait, Lady Knight.”

Alyssa turned.

Before her stood a beautiful silver-haired girl, and behind her—like a living saint—a golden-haired nun.

“Is something the matter?”

Alyssa asked warily.

“We are the Iron Sword Party.”

Phyllis stepped forward, her smile impeccable.

“We couldn’t help overhearing your discussion earlier. Though it may be presumptuous, we are very interested in the principle you mentioned—covering one’s teammates.”

“…Are you here to mock me?”

“No. We’re here to invite you.”

This time it was Hill who spoke.

She stood, meeting Alyssa’s gaze directly.

“We need a shield. A shield that won’t retreat for loot, that will stand firm in front of teammates even at the cost of its own life. Can you be that shield?”

Alyssa was stunned.

She looked into Hill’s clear, unblemished crimson eyes.

There was no mockery, no contempt—only pure hunger for strength and trust.

“I… I am Alyssa.”

The female knight straightened her back and performed a textbook knight’s salute.

“If it is for justice and protection, my shield will never falter.”

“Good.”

Hill smiled.

“I’m Hill. This is Phyllis. The one hiding under the table is Nya. Welcome aboard.”

Hill extended her hand.

Alyssa, somewhat overwhelmed, hurriedly removed her gauntlet and offered her rough, callused hand.

Just as their palms were about to meet—

“Ahem.”

Phyllis gave a light cough.

With perfect naturalness—as though merely showing friendliness—she laid both of her own hands over Hill’s, then guided Hill’s hand to clasp Alyssa’s together with hers.

“Welcome, Miss Alyssa.”

Phyllis smiled sweetly, brows curved like crescent moons.

Yet Alyssa felt an inexplicable chill travel up her arm from the point of contact.

“However, before officially joining, we’ll need you to sign a contract.”

Phyllis said softly.

“After all, we are a proper party. Rules must be observed.”

Half an hour later, inside a private guild booth.

Alyssa stared at the parchment in front of her—covered in dense clauses—and frowned deeply.

“Um… Miss Phyllis?”

“Just Phyllis is fine.”

“Alright, Phyllis. This clause… ‘In battle, you must unconditionally prioritize protecting the Captain, even at the cost of your own safety…’ Isn’t this a bit much?”

Even though knightly spirit demanded sacrifice, having it written as a binding clause felt strange.

“Miss Alyssa.”

Phyllis was pouring tea for everyone, movements smooth and practiced.

“Hill is the core damage dealer and sole Captain. If she falls, the party collapses. As a shield-bearer, isn’t this your natural duty?”

“…That’s true.”

Alyssa couldn’t argue.

“And this one…”

Alyssa pointed lower down.

“‘Without permission, entry into the Captain’s bedroom is prohibited, as is instilling any dangerous or unhygienic thoughts in the Captain…’”

“This is for Hill’s physical and mental well-being.”

Phyllis placed a cup of fragrant black tea in front of Alyssa.

“Our party operates under military discipline. As a knight, you should be quite accustomed to following rules, yes?”

“…I understand.”

Caught off guard by the phrases “military discipline” and “knight’s duty,” Alyssa ultimately signed the document—which in essence was little more than a Contract of Indentured Servitude & Meat Shield Code.

“Pleasure working with you.”

Phyllis folded the parchment away, her smile now carrying a touch more sincerity.

“By the way, Alyssa.”

Hill took a sip of tea and asked,

“Your gear looks pretty damaged. Need repairs? Phyllis is excellent with her hands.”

“No need to trouble yourselves!”

Alyssa hugged her shield awkwardly.

“This armor has been passed down in my family. It’s old, but sturdy. I… I’ll save up to repair it myself.”

“That won’t do.”

Phyllis suddenly spoke.

She walked behind Alyssa and gently ran her fingers over the shield’s scarred surface.

“This shield will be standing in front of Hill from now on.”

Her voice was low and tender, almost like an incantation.

“If it isn’t strong enough and Hill gets hurt because of it… that would trouble me greatly.”

“So, leave it to me.”

A faint glow appeared at Phyllis’s fingertips.

“I’ll add the strongest fortification enchantment. Free of charge.”

“F-free?”

Alyssa was stunned.

Enchantments cost a fortune.

“Yes.”

Phyllis looked up at Hill. The love in her eyes was thick enough to drown in.

“As long as it’s to protect Hill, no price is too high.”

Watching the scene, a warm current surged in Alyssa’s chest.

What wonderful teammates!

Not only had they accepted her—they were even selflessly upgrading her equipment.

Could this be the team she had always dreamed of?

She completely failed to notice Nya in the corner, looking at her with the pitying gaze one reserves for a sacrificial lamb.

Nya even quietly tucked her little dried fish deeper into her arms.

That iron-plated big sister is such an idiot nya…

That golden-haired witch is just doing maintenance on her personal Hill-specific bulletproof vest nya.

That evening, in the dormitory.

Phyllis made an unprecedented exception and allowed Alyssa to stay in the house.

Of course—on the first floor, in the guest room.

Nya still slept in her basket in the living room, while the second floor remained the absolute private domain of Phyllis and Hill.

“Phyllis, you’re really kind to Alyssa.”

Hill lay in bed, watching Phyllis remove her earrings at the vanity.

“I thought you’d be picky about her personality.”

“How could I be?”

Phyllis turned, let down her golden hair, climbed into bed, and slipped into Hill’s arms.

“She’s a good knight. Clumsy, but very sturdy.”

Phyllis buried her face against Hill’s chest, listening to that strong, steady heartbeat.

With this iron wall in place, no more filthy things, acid, or claws would ever reach Hill again.

How wonderful.

Another layer of protective film.

“Hill.”

“Hm?”

“Next dungeon run, let Alyssa take point.”

Phyllis’s fingers toyed idly with the buttons of Hill’s nightgown.

“We should give her a chance to prove herself, right?”

“Yeah. She’s the tank, after all.”

Hill agreed without the slightest suspicion.

Outside the window, moonlight lay cold and clear.

Downstairs in the guest room, Alyssa clutched the freshly enchanted, gleaming shield—too excited to sleep—swearing to give her heart for this warm team.

Upstairs, Phyllis held her entire world in her arms, the corners of her mouth lifting in a serene, contented smile.