Kazimierz is a mountainous, forested country, with the vast Kazimierz Plain stretching across its southern region and bordering Victoria. Throughout its history, it has clashed with Ursus multiple times in war.
The knight class forms a significant part of Kazimierz's political structure. Once, the title of knight symbolized true honor. Should a knightly family go without a knight for too long, they would be stripped of their noble status.
However, with the intervention of Capitalist , commercialized competitive matches featuring knights as the main attraction began to undermine their traditional standing. The rift between the old knightly aristocracy and the emerging capitalist elite—along with the competitive knight groups upon whom the latter depended—became increasingly sharp.
Modern Kazimierz operates under a dual political system: the Council of Justice, representing the secular knight class, and the Kazimierz General Chamber of Commerce, which embodies the interests of capital.
Anyone walking the land of Kazimierz cannot avoid dealing with the forces of at least one of these factions.
To be fair, from the perspective of the story's plot, the Supervisory Council—which stands for the old knightly order—is framed as the side of justice. The Commercial Federation, dominated by Capitalist , often acts in the shadows, engaging in underhanded dealings, making it appear as a villainous organization.
As players, however, they didn't view these rival factions with prejudice or moral bias. Combat-oriented players or those who admired the knightly tradition gravitated toward the Supervisory Council, while crafting-focused players, who relied on a steady supply of materials, naturally aligned themselves with the commercially savvy Federation.
After all—what do the political squabbles of the native factions have to do with us? We are players. Do they even understand the value of a Fourth Impact?
In his previous life, Felix had built a solid relationship with the Chamber of Commerce. Thanks to their efficiency, every time he ordered materials, they would arrive within a week. Their prompt service left him thoroughly satisfied.
Now, as a businessman walking this world again, Felix believed it was time to reconnect with the Chamber of Commerce.
He wasn't a pure warrior, nor did he harbor a strong aversion to how the Federation commercialized the knights. In fact, many professional players had risen to fame through Capitalist's system. Capitalist had the power to make anyone famous—though maintaining that fame was another matter entirely.
As for the spirit of chivalry, Felix never disrespected it. On the contrary, he admired it.
But absolute neutrality was impossible in this land.
From the historical records unearthed by players in his past life, it was clear that the Commercial Federation had not always existed.
"The knight class neither tilled the land nor engaged in trade. It was a ruling class built on exploitation and force."
Knights needed others to trade for them, to run their factories, to farm their land, and to transport their goods. The knight class—rulers by virtue of might—relied on these "exploited" groups for survival. And those exploited people included not just the commoners living on knight fiefdoms, but also the early merchant guilds—who were originally retainers of the knights.
As squires, they were responsible for managing every detail of a knight's life, ensuring their masters lived in comfort and splendor. Yet, over time, the wealth of these knights became a treasure trove—one that the squires, holding the metaphorical golden keys, had access to.
In times of peace, a knight's daily expenses weren't particularly extravagant—mostly purchases of everyday goods or the acquisition of property. There was little incentive for the squires to unite. Each simply carried out their duties as stewards within their respective households.
But once war broke out, everything changed.
War always brings with it staggering military expenses. Behind every battle lies the need for a robust logistical system.
While the knights fought on the front lines, their squires ensured the rear was stable—meticulously preparing logistics for Kazimierz's war efforts.
Over time, the retainers began to form alliances. They established absolute trade relationships with craftsmen, merchants, and farmers, wielding money as their lever of influence. Though born from the supply-and-demand dynamic of war, this cooperation catalyzed the rise of capitalism in Kazimierz .
Consider the research and development of weapons by knight-affiliated craftsmen; the procurement and transport of food for marching armies; the construction and repair of trenches, fortresses, and castles—all these activities deepened the interdependence of the squires and the broader economic class. Thus emerged the Squires' Society, an organization formed by the union of these once-separate households.
When the war ended, Kazimierz had successfully defended most of its territory. Many knights, however, perished on the battlefield. And yet, their fiefs and lands did not lose their stewards.
Indeed, even in death, the knights' wealth remained under the control of their loyal retainers. Rather than fading into obscurity, these stewards prospered. They evolved into families of wealth and power—Capitalist families—with their own assets and entrenched networks spanning other squires, artisans, farmers, and merchants.
It could be said that the squires of Kazimierz , exploiting the limitations of the knight class, seized a historic opportunity. From their once-loyal masters, they wrested control of the regime.
And this—was the origin of the Chamber of Commerce.
The progress of an era relies not on force alone, but on the advancement of economics and politics. No individual—no matter how powerful—can deny this truth.
When the dual political system of Kazimierz was formalized, both the National Council and the Supervisory Council were established as its two pillars. The National Council served as the judiciary and held legislative authority. Meanwhile, the Supervisory Council acted as the administrative body, composed primarily of knights.
But while laws can be written, enforcing them requires true power. The National Council, in practice, had little ability to restrain the Supervisory Council—representatives of the knight class, who were also the ruling elite. In Kazimierz , knights both governed and legislated.
If a knight was benevolent, life in their domain could be bearable—even decent.
But what if the knight lord was cruel, a tyrant devoid of honor or chivalry?
In truth, the knights had once become the oppressors of Casimir—making laws and enforcing them at will, while peasants and squires bore the brunt of exploitation and abuse under their iron rule.
Then came the Armorless Alliance—silent, concealed in the shadows, armed with bows and arrows, their presence looming ominously over every knight's head.
Times had changed. The old ways had become obsolete.
Kazimierz no longer needed so-called knights. In times of peace, only economic strength could drive the nation forward. It was in this environment that the Chamber of Commerce rose to prominence. With slogans like "Make Kazimierz Great Again!" they championed a new path—one defined not by swords or banners, but by trade, innovation, and enterprise. The Chamber now stood as the primary economic engine behind both the National Council and the Supervisory Council.
Even if the Supervisory Council wished to sever ties with the Chamber, it would have no choice but to face reality: Kazimierz could no longer function without the Chamber of Commerce—just as it could no longer fully abandon the ideals of chivalry.
Felix brought his pickup truck to a halt before the gates of Kawalerielki, one of Kazimierz's largest mobile cities. After a brief identity verification, he was granted entry.
Kawalerielki was like a second home to him. To Felix, it felt no different than the vibrant metropolis of Lungmen. Whenever he missed Chinese cuisine in the game, or longed for the company of his wives in the Guards Bureau or Penguin Logistics, he would linger in Lungmen for a while. And whenever he found himself reflecting on past mistakes—tired of attachments and ready to return to a simpler, forge-bound life—he would retreat to Kawalerielki.
Here, in this city of steel and ambition, the familiar faces were not those of his wives, but of fully armed knights clashing in the arenas; of bleary-eyed office workers briskly weaving through corporate towers; of gamblers laughing, drinking, and fighting in rowdy bars at night.
The characters he remembered from his time in Kazimierz had all moved on. There were no beautiful girls left to search for—only cold, unyielding steel.
Once he'd settled in, Felix began inspecting his old stomping grounds. The upcoming 21st Kazimierz Knight Competition Qualifiers—set to begin early next year—promised to bring warmth to the winter chill that clung to Kawalerielki. The city streets were packed with people, mostly Kuranta, but many others had come from distant regions.
Posters, slogans, and advertisements covered the city's alleys and boulevards. Shopping mall screens blared promotional videos of popular products endorsed by famous knights, occasionally interspersed with trailers for the upcoming Knight Games.
This bustling, capital-driven atmosphere—so reminiscent of the modern world—put Felix at ease. Whatever he chose to do here, he would be just another face in the crowd. No one would notice. No one would care.
"Good morning, Kawalerielki! Did you see the result of yesterday's betting? Number 30 won! There was a fan brawl at Arena No. 3 last night—fifty fans slightly injured! Oh, but one of the knights was hurt too, so you can bet the Knights' Association won't take this lightly. You'll all be paying for it one way or another! And get this—there was another blackout around Brilliant Shield Industrial. Power grid damage—yep, more of those crazy knight fans! Meanwhile, the Chamber of Commerce's media team is out interviewing participants of the 21st Kazimierz Knight Arena Qualifiers. Look at them! What a bunch of legends! I'm your good buddy Big Mouth Mob, and it's time to start a brand new day filled with the spirit of chivalry!"
This big-mouthed Mob was the mouthpiece of the Chamber of Commerce.
Felix sat in a small shop, quietly enjoying a late breakfast. The shield currently flying off the shelves—produced by Brilliant Shield Industrial Company—was endorsed by a popular competitive knight heavily promoted by the Chamber. Mob's broadcasts only ever delivered the news people wanted to hear.
Still, there was a certain pleasure in listening to such news. Regardless of the content's value, the host's lively tone and theatrical delivery made it hard not to be drawn in.
After finishing his meal, Felix headed toward several materials shops he used to frequent in his past life. With less than 100,000 LMD on hand, there wasn't much steel or metal he could afford, but it was enough to dabble in a small-scale, low-cost fast food business.
His plan was to forge a few fine iron crossbows—nothing fancy, slightly substandard in craftsmanship. These kinds of weapons were perennially popular. They weren't restricted in use, and Kazimierz 's bounty hunters favored them for their balance between function and price.
He spent the entire day hammering away, and by nightfall, he had crafted three white, fine iron crossbows. Though lacking in workmanship and quality, they were good enough for the black market.
For him, forging substandard gear was difficult—it meant intentionally holding back. The lack of refinement meant missing out on valuable experience points and skill progression. But for now, Felix wasn't chasing growth. He needed money.
The black market was where identities were left at the door. It was also the second-most densely populated area for the infected, right behind the slums.
Most of the crossbows on the market were junk—unreliable, jam-prone, inaccurate, and poorly constructed. Felix's crossbows, though technically defective, avoided the worst of these problems. They were stable when fired and unlikely to jam; their only issue was slightly reduced durability. In this environment, they'd be snatched up immediately.
Of course, the Chamber of Commerce—and its spies—had their hands everywhere, and the black market was no exception. In fact, prices here were subtly regulated by the Chamber as well.
Felix walked toward a familiar fork in the path—a route he had once taken in his previous life. Back then, it was a game mission that led him here, where he had met a black market trader. That man had once been a knight of the Knights Association, but disillusioned by the Federation's tyranny, he quit and turned to underground dealings. With old connections and a strong enough military force, he was able to operate both above and below the table. For players, he was an ideal business contact—someone who could be trusted not to backstab them or trigger a Dragon Sword bounty.
The mechanical and tech gear Felix wore now served as the perfect deterrent. His hood concealed most of his face from anyone nearby, but the halo above his head remained visible. That was enough to make the more malicious onlookers think twice. After all, the Sankta race wasn't one to be trifled with—they were always armed.
Rounding a dim corner, he approached a space most people passed by without a second glance. Only regulars knew what this place really was.
"Welcome... Sir, what can I do for you?"
Thad looked up from a noisy television comedy, his casual demeanor freezing when he saw Felix's face—and his race.
A Sankta?
Was this man here to investigate the black market's subpar firearms?
"I heard about this place from Old Tom."
Old Tom, the owner of a bar on the corner, had long been involved in the black market business. Many people had discovered the location of this underground market thanks to his introduction. That's right—if players wanted to qualify for access to the black market, they could only do so by completing missions issued by Old Tom.
Felix, having already known the route, naturally skipped that requirement.
"I'm here to deal in low-quality crossbows," he said flatly, his expression blank, tinged with a trace of sorrow—reminiscent of the actor Andoain. He pulled three fine iron long crossbows from his bag and laid them on the table. "A few Kuranta friends I met in Kazimierz went out hunting. These substandard crossbows weren't suited for it, and... they died at the hands of their prey."
Thad's heart skipped a beat when he saw the crossbows tossed onto the table so casually. He shot up from his seat with a bang and quickly examined them. Though the craftsmanship showed signs of black market-level finishing, the crossbows themselves were in surprisingly good condition.
Inwardly, Thad sneered. He shook his head, wondering just where these three fools had come from. Going hunting with crossbows like these—without using spears, shields, or traps—was plain foolish. Sure, a crossbow could be used for hunting, but if someone ended up dead, it was a matter of skill, not quality. What was even the point of blaming the weapon?
"So... what are you trying to say, sir?" Thad asked cautiously, suppressing the scorn on his face and looking up at Felix.
Felix's face was filled with sorrow. "They didn't even have the money for proper burials. Their families asked me to sell these killers—to use the funds to cover future living expenses."
"My condolences, guest."
Thad let out a quiet breath of relief. So, he wasn't here to stir up trouble. He looked at Felix and asked, "May I check the crossbows' integrity?"
Felix gave a slow nod.
Thad gripped one of the crossbows and aimed at a piece of armor set up nearby. After loading it, he fired four shots in quick succession. Three bolts pierced through the armor cleanly. One bolt even went straight through.
Thad's eyes widened with surprise and delight, though he did his best to appear disappointed. "It is indeed... a low-quality crossbow."
Felix curled his lips slightly. Oh please, he thought. You're practically wagging your tail trying to hide your excitement.
Still, he remained composed. "One hundred forty thousand LMD. Enough to let each family live out their days in peace."
"Guest, that's robbery!"
Thad looked caught between laughter and disbelief. What kind of ridiculous moral guilt-trip was this? But once it came down to pricing, he immediately leaned back in his chair—ready to haggle with logic and reason.