Darius was silent for a bit before he facepalmed. It seemed he had failed to account for the fact that his ability was elitist, so naturally the quality of the spearmanship skill it would grant him would be the best in all of Faust.

From that skill description alone, Darius could tell that even the basic version of these Lancer Arts might be far better than the master version of other spearmanship schools.

No wonder he felt so connected with his weapon, and that he could move it around with ease. He could even visualize multiple ways in which he could have ended that Grey Bear, those Laughing Hyenas, and even those Plain Lions without suffering any damage.

Darius put away the spear and walked into the homestead as he was. Since it was no longer nighttime, he didn’t need to think up some elaborate story. His noble’s attire alone should suffice. It might be slightly roughed up after the night, but then again it would be even stranger if that was not the case in the wilderness.

When he came closer, Darius could examine the homestead properly. In fact, it was more of a small village with somewhere between 50-70 cottages and one big farmhouse in the center. Around the homestead, on the other side, were miles of tilled land that were being worked on at this very moment.

There were very few of the villagers not at work, mostly the old and the young. As such, it wasn’t long before Darius was spotted by some residents.

Instead of coming up to him, they quickly rushed away to tell the others who were at work, probably the adults and decision-makers. As he walked along what passed for a road to the main farmhouse, Darius could see the ones working taking a long pause as they shuffled towards his location.

Rubbing his chin, he wondered how they would receive him and made some plans and counter-plans based on the circumstances. By the time he reached the door of the large and well-maintained farmhouse, he saw the various adults of this place standing there, waiting for him to do something.

There were about 200 adults at the least, with more than that number of children around their parents. As for the old, they numbered slightly less than that. This was actually quite large for a village from what he knew from the infoblock.

Darius stopped in front of them and maintained a purposefully lax demeanor, not like a young boy being eyed warily by many onlookers, but a master returning to his home.

“Who is the chief here?” Darius asked in a slightly imperious manner.

A tall man with slightly reddish skin and orange hair stood out from the group. “That would be me. You can call me Shanks.”

He had a thick mustache and an even thicker beard. A hoe was slung over his shoulder, and his beefy body proved his good work ethic on this farm. He certainly did look like someone qualified to lead.

But it wasn’t only that which Darius noticed. It was the fact that Shanks wore blue overalls that were embossed with a fading logo on the breast pocket. That logo had been added to his Database, informing him that Shanks must have had some ties to the royal family.

Judging by Shanks’ accent, which was free of any of the typical countryfolk augmentations, it was safe to assume he used to be a cityslicker who probably retired out here to start a new and peaceful life.

‘Ex-military. Discharged with high honors and a good sum in savings or reward, which he used to start up this homestead. It would explain why it could be so large yet so secluded.’ Darius analyzed him in his mind with the experience of a businessman.

There were no signs of wear on the buildings, meaning that they should have been built relatively recently, within about 2-5 years. There were also no signs of fighting from bandit raids, which, according to the infoblock, should be a frequent problem for the general populace outside the cities, so this reinforced the point that this Shanks fellow was someone of means.

But at the end of the day, this was all speculation and deduction. Darius found a simpler way to confirm his assumptions.

“You… your accent and your bearing…? You’re from the Royal City, no?” Darius asked with a surprised expression.

Shanks immediately narrowed his eyes, inspecting the newcomer even more carefully, his hoe shifting about a bit unruly, but he didn’t shrink back. “I am. So you should understand what that means.”

Darius nodded. “I do. Allow me to assure you that I’ve not come here to cause you or your peasants any trouble, Sir Shanks. I just wanted to find a place to lay my head until I finish my experiments.”

Shanks visibly relaxed when Darius called him ‘Sir’ after all his concessions. Even if he hadn’t been an ex-knight, any military man of a kingdom like this would find such an exalted title pleasant to the ear as it showed respect.

“In that case, there should be no problem with you staying here. We here at Poleria’s Homestead welcome any travelers. We have yet to build a tavern or inn, so I hope you don’t mind staying in my farmhouse?” Shanks offered with a curious smile.

“Poleria’s Homestead… what a lovely name, Sir Shanks. Does it have a special meaning?” Darius asked.

“That’s right, Young Sir. It was the name of my beloved wife who passed a few years ago. I decided to resign from all the unnecessary fighting and settle down like she always wanted me to and have named the place after her. Makes me feel like she’s here with us, you know?” Shanks confessed and let out a heavy sigh.

Darius smiled. He had successfully turned himself from a questionable youth of unknown origin to a respectful and thoughtful noble scion who was just passing through.

Not just Shanks, but the others around him became relaxed as relief flooded them. Shanks might be special, but they were common peasants. Andrato Kingdom had a typical medieval class society not unlike medieval Europe on Earth.

If a noble told a peasant to jump, they were required socially and by law to ask how high. There was no such thing as human rights or freedoms, and the majority of laws were basically used to secure the interests of the nobles, as well as serve as weapons for them to fight each other civilly.

That was why they had hurriedly called over Shanks, the only one among them who could deal with someone from a noble family thanks to his previous status. Now that this noble boy had proven himself to be quite amiable and declared he was not here to do anything to them, they had let down their guards.

Although Darius would love to believe that things going smoothly was all due to his own eloquence, which allowed him to be socially adept in all situations, in his heart he knew that his above-average Charisma had to have played a role in it, affecting him passively and actively.