Patience!

"Hunting grounds, you say?"

Harry paused, caught off guard by Reggie's words. The question hung in the air, thick with an unspoken challenge. After a moment, he nodded, a sly smile forming. "If that's what you mean," he replied smoothly, "it would be my honor."

Reggie's intense gaze softened into a grin, his eyes gleaming with approval. The silence between them carried a mutual understanding, a promise of the thrill to come. Moments later, Harry mounted his horse, feeling the familiar weight of his bow at his side, and set off toward the open plains.

The sun hung low in the sky by the time Harry arrived, casting a golden light over the rolling grassland. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught his eye; a young deer, delicate and swift, darting across the open field. Without hesitation, he nocked an arrow, his every movement fluid and precise. He released the arrow, watching as it struck the deer with a swift, fatal blow, pinning it to a nearby tree. The forest held its breath, the silence thickening around him.

Harry stepped forward, and his servant approached, finishing the task with practiced efficiency. As he knelt, presenting the white-furred deer to Harry, his voice held a note of awe. "Lord Harry, this is a white deer, rare in these lands."

Harry raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Is that so?" He looked over the fallen creature, noting the beauty of its soft, snow-colored fur. "Skin it, and send the pelt to my brother as a gift. As for the meat, divide it among yourselves."

A cheer rose from the servants behind him, their voices carrying across the field. Smiling to himself, Harry urged his horse forward, eager to explore the hunting grounds further.

The forest grew denser as he rode on, the shadows lengthening in the fading light. His sharp eyes caught glimpses of more than just prey in these woods; strange, towering figures moved at the edges of his vision, their hulking forms unmistakable. They were humanoid yet vastly different, stronger, wilder, and brutal-looking.

These were the orcs.

Unlike the humans Harry had known in his previous life, these creatures wore primitive animal skins, their faces twisted in fierce determination. Some stood half a head taller than the average man, with muscles corded like tree roots beneath their rough garments. Their eyes flashed with a strange, almost feral energy as they watched him, as if daring him to draw his blade.

One orc, bolder than the rest, let out a guttural roar and charged toward Harry, brandishing a crude weapon. With a sigh of resignation, Harry drew his sword, dispatching the creature with a swift, practiced motion. He gazed down at the orc's body, a mixture of curiosity and unease flickering across his face.

"More orcs here lately," he muttered to himself. It was unusual. Baron Ethan's lands, while sparse and unremarkable, were not close to the borderlands where orcs typically roamed. He'd rarely encountered orcs before; other than the occasional slave sold in the markets.

But now, here they were, scattered across the hunting grounds as if they belonged here. As he ventured deeper into the forest, he saw more of them, groups scattered throughout, gathering in strange, loose formations as if they were scouting or patrolling. An odd chill ran down his spine.

The sheer number of them suggested something more than a few lost wanderers. It was as if they had infiltrated his father's lands in silence, slipping past the lines of defense while everyone's attention was fixed on the front lines. Baron Ethan was likely battling the orc tribes on the border at this very moment, unaware that his own territory was becoming a foothold for these strange, relentless creatures.

This was a dangerous sign, one that made Harry pause and consider the implications. If orcs were appearing this far inland, the war was closer than he'd thought. Yet, he couldn't help but shrug off the concern. It wasn't his battle. His father and the warriors would handle the front lines, and whatever happened here in these quiet woods seemed distant, almost like a passing dream.

For now, his thoughts turned back to his immediate needs. Hunting was hard work, but the rewards were tangible, the profits filling his coffers with a steady trickle of wealth. And that was what mattered most to him, his growing savings, his own piece of this world, bought with blood and sweat, but undeniably his.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the hunting grounds, Harry's gaze turned toward the darkening woods. There was more to this land than he'd realized, more than he'd ever imagined. And perhaps, in time, he would have to confront it. But for now, he was content, his thoughts consumed with gold and the quiet, hidden power it brought.

As the new appointed guardian of the Cecil family's hunting grounds, Harry had a straightforward job. His primary responsibilities were to patrol the expansive territory, hunt regularly, and deliver a portion of the spoils to Reggie. However, he had the freedom to keep any excess for himself.

Harry decided early on to share most of the extra game with his followers. It was a strategic choice, fostering camaraderie and loyalty within his small team. Over time, as they hunted together, a bond formed. Trust built itself slowly, like the sturdy framework of a well-crafted bow.

In the beginning, Harry had been a novice in the art of hunting. His past life in the modern city had not prepared him for such tasks. Yet, in this new world with the help of his simulation, his identity as a hunter from a distant realm began to surface, allowing him to grasp the nuances of tracking and trapping quickly. With each successful hunt, he not only brought home food but also saved up a modest sum of coins.

As he gained experience, Reggie's confidence in him grew, but Harry knew that earning the Knight's Aura Technique, along with other rewards, required more than just performing well in the hunting grounds. There were layers to this game, and he needed to understand them.

After a long day, Harry returned to his quarters, the weight of his thoughts heavy on his mind. He opened a potion bottle he had acquired from Klaus and poured the shimmering liquid into a cup, hesitating only for a moment before drinking it down.

Instantly, a wave of warmth spread through him, his skin flushed an unusual shade of crimson. Pain simmered beneath the surface, but he gritted his teeth and bore it silently. This was part of the process, a necessary trial he had come to expect.

Time slipped by, and eventually, the agony subsided, leaving him feeling lighter. He rose, stretching his limbs and savoring the cooling sensation that followed the heat. His mind sharpened, clarity returning as he assessed the potion bottle beside him. "It's almost empty," he murmured, a tinge of regret coloring his voice.

The potion was a Knight potion, a rare elixir that promised enhanced strength and agility. Harry felt its effects coursing through him, invigorating his muscles and sharpening his reflexes. "I feel stronger," he thought, a smile creeping across his face. "If I could just get my hands on more of these potions, I might draw closer to becoming a Knight."

But a lingering doubt shadowed his enthusiasm. "Without the advance Knight Aura Technique, even an abundance of these potions won't lead to promotion." His thoughts spiraled back to the crucial missing piece of the puzzle.

He glanced around his modest room, reflecting on his time with Reggie. He had been dutiful and prompt, always delivering good news and supplies. Whenever Reggie had needs or requests, Harry fulfilled them without question, but he had also tried to drop subtle hints about his own ambitions. Yet, Reggie remained oblivious, treating him as a subordinate rather than an aspiring Knight.

"Does he even realize how much I'm giving?" Harry wondered, frustration rising within him. In Reggie's eyes, perhaps he was merely an illegitimate child, unworthy of the Cecil family's esteemed Aura Techniques.

Initially, joining Reggie had been a gamble, a hope that perhaps he could learn something valuable. Yet, with the war dragging on, Baron Ethan absent, and Reggie showing no inclination to share the secrets Harry sought, his patience began to wear thin.

Just then, a noise broke the quiet. Harry's instincts kicked in, and he lifted his head, scanning the shadows beyond his quarters. His sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement; a dark figure darting through the underbrush.

"Who goes there?" he called out, his voice steady but laced with tension. The hunt had just taken a turn, and Harry was ready to confront whatever lurked in the shadows.