Lately, Camelot had been feeling a bit restless. He realized that maybe he had gotten too comfortable just doing most of his powering up and patrolling around the Library and its surrounding areas. Often, someone would be waiting to speak with him or on their way to meet him, and he did not leave the library roof at all.

Tonight, he decided to return to some older stomping grounds. Which was most of the city, back in the days of broader patrol and fighting the negaverse head on. His role was far different now, but he was sure he had not forgotten how it all worked.

He even chose to venture in his Knight stage, rather than fully powered up as Royal Knight. It would allow him to be more approachable, he thought, to those who might have a reason to be nervous around a powerful aura. And maybe he wanted to see if someone would pick a fight with him, and prove that he still had it when to came to basic survival skills.

How could he pass them on to others, if he did not keep them sharp? He was more than just a teacher, and he needed to act like a true knight. This city was where he vowed his service, and those people who were helpless against the threats that lurked in the shadows.

At the moment, however, he had not found anything chaos-y except a small youma he quickly dispatched with little effort. It had not exactly scratched the itch he was hoping for.

He stopped just short of hoping something would happen, having lived here long enough to know the city thrived on irony.