Chapter 34: Chapter 34
In the Arman Alliance, the kingdom where jousting was most prevalent was Libert, but Pendia was by no means inferior in terms of popularity.
After all, was it not the kingdom that revered martial prowess the most among the five kingdoms and went wild for knights?
As evidenced by the fact that Roden had known the name of Feonil, the record-holding winner of the neighboring kingdom of Libert’s jousting tournament in the past, the Pendians’ love for jousting tournaments was immense.
As such, the jousting tournament held in the capital of Hasra was the largest festival, excluding a few major state events.
People engaged in heated debates over who would win this jousting tournament and placed their daily wages on bets.
“Hmm?”
Baron Lavayan, the royal deputy steward who was managing such a high-profile event, frowned upon seeing a certain application.
This was because the application details of a mere knight were a matter that should have been handled by those below him.
“What on earth is this for them to bring it to me…”
As Baron Lavayan read through the application, he soon understood why his subordinates had brought it to him.
Shan of House Barendil, native of Libert, knighted by Princess Cheryn of the Pendian Royal Family, black hair and green eyes, Altoan.
‘An Altoan knight?’
He questioned the nonsense for only a moment; when he contacted the Registry Office and looked up the roster of knights, there truly was a knight registered under that same name.
Baron Lavayan immediately summoned the officials of the Registry Office and scolded them.
“Why on earth was such an important fact not reported!”
“S-Sorry. Princess Cheryn told us not to bother mentioning the knighting of a mere knight to the higher-ups…”
Hearing that story, Baron Lavayan lost the urge to reprimand them any further, let out a light sigh, and dismissed them with a gesture of his hand.
A mere low-ranking official would not have dared to disobey the princess’s ‘recommendation.’
Although the princess held no official government post, she enjoyed the favor of the bureaucratic class thanks to having pointed out and abolished various unreasonable or absurd systems since a young age.
‘If the princes find out, it will be complete chaos.’
In the end, it was only direct officials like him who suffered when members of the royal family clashed.
He naturally let out a sigh at the thought of being buffeted from all sides.
At any rate, since there was no clause forbidding Altoans from participating (naturally because no Altoan knight had ever existed) the baron slammed down the approval stamp.
If he was going to get criticized either way, it was better to at least stick to the principles.
*
The venue for the jousting tournament was an arena of rich history built back in the days of the old Arman Empire.
Built to accommodate up to tens of thousands of people, the massive spectator stood rose in a circle surrounding the arena.
In the distant past, this place had been called the ‘Battlefield of Glory,’ and it was famous for having been visited by the emperor himself to watch gladiatorial matches in those days.
The spectator stood, which were usually completely empty, were crowded with spectators who had come to watch the jousting tournament.
“[Glory to the Goddess, loyalty to the royal family! We will now begin the Hasra Jousting Tournament hosted by the royal family!]”
Amplified by magic devices, the voice spread hundreds of meters in all directions, drawing cheers from the audience.
“[The first participant! Sir Darmun of House Calai from the Kingdom of Ruman in the south! Knighted by Viscount Shuld, the lord of Beo Island, he is a brave hero who hunted a band of Sirens in the South Sea and subjugated the Black Moon pirate crew!]”
Introduced to the crowd, Sir Darmun walked out into the arena and raised his hand to respond to the spectators’ cheers.
As he read off the list of participants walking out one by one from the waiting rooms surrounding the arena, the commentator’s face clouded over for a moment.
“[Ah, this is… the twenty-eighth participant! Shan of House Barendil from Libert! Knighted by Princess Cheryn of Pendia, he is a young hero who hunted the man-eating troll of Obilos and the Cockatrice of the Demonic Realm! And he is also an Altoan!]”
After a brief moment of hesitation, the spectators erupted into explosive cheers several times louder than before.
Did that mean the protagonist of the Cockatrice hunt, about whom rumors had been wild for days, was participating?
Surely someone who was a knight would not be stupid enough to write down fake achievements in a jousting tournament hosted by the royal family.
“His build is smaller than I thought. I heard he was a massive giant.”
“He looks just like a kid… No, looking at his face, he really is a kid?”
“That greenhorn hunted a Cockatrice?”
“Come to think of it, I feel like I heard some nonsense about an Altoan boy hunting it.”
“An Altoan as a knight? Does that make any sense?”
“Could he have falsified his identity…”
Leaving religious issues aside, impersonating a knight was a serious crime.
While the commotion quickly spread through the spectator stood, Roden hastily ran to the commentator.
“What on earth is going on?”
“That he was knighted by the Princess as an Altoan is written here on this knighting scroll. Please check for yourself.”
Looking at the paper prepared in advance, the commentator let out a low groan.
Shan’s name, house name, coat of arms, and physical characteristics were all written there.
And finally, even the seal of the Hasra Royal Family verifying all of this.
After officials in the VIP seats went in and out several times, the commentator shouted with the help of the magic device.
“[We make an announcement! Sir Shan of House Barendil is of the Altoan race, and this matter has already received official approval from the royal family! Therefore, there are no grounds for disqualification as a knight!]”
Although protests poured in from Old Faith believers spectators, the commentator stubbornly called out the next person’s name.
Meanwhile, in accordance with the jousting tournament rules, Shan lowered and raised the detachable visor attached to his helmet a few times.
It was a necessary safety measure since there was a high possibility that splinters from a broken lance would pierce one’s face.
Shan’s expression as he looked around seemed half-fed up and half-amused.
“Whew, this is incredible…”
“If this matter hadn’t been resolved quickly, we probably would have been up there as well, Sir Shan.”
Since they were in a public setting, Roden, who was participating alongside him as his squire, spoke in a polite tone.
Finding that awkward, Shan made a disgusted expression before turning his gaze back toward the crowd.
Tens of thousands of gazes that conveyed curiosity, delight, suspicion, hostility, and even jealousy…
The heat of everyone staring in his direction was so intense that he could even feel a physical pressure.
“A Cockatrice?”
“Nonsense.”
“A mere Altoan as a knight!”
It was not just the audience members who were watching Shan and Roden.
The knights standing nearby, who had heard the introductions together, also looked at the two with expressions of utter absurdity.
There was a limit to bluster; how could a greenhorn who looked like he would fly away if another burly knight gave him a light nudge claim a troll or a Cockatrice?
On top of that, he was an Altoan.
Of course, unless the royal family was foolish, they would not have made someone presenting fake achievements into a knight, but no matter how one thought about it, the story was far too unreal.
“Is the armor alright? You didn’t have much time to get used to it.”
“It’s fine. It’s not that uncomfortable either. It must be something really well made.”
“That’s because it was made by a plate armor master whose family line has spanned five generations in the capital.”
Shan nodded at Roden’s words and looked down at the plate armor he was wearing.
This armor was indeed a privilege granted solely to the knight class.
Defense that perfectly protected every part except the joints with steel plates, along with an exquisite design and structure crafted so that it was not significantly more uncomfortable than mail armor.
The price of a single properly made set of plate armor was greater than that of an average warhorse.
Because his growth period was not yet over, the realization that he would have to get a new suit tailored if he grew taller later was enough to bring tears to his eyes.
To top it all off, a fairly powerful defensive spell had been enchanted onto this armor.
Shan stroked the faintly glowing armor and thought to himself.
‘I should say thank you when I meet her next time.’
Originally, when the armor was completed two days before the tournament and he visited the Magic Society, reservations were so backed up that finding a professional enchanting mage was impossible.
Other knights were already demanding that enchanting magic be cast on their own armor as well, so it was a helpless situation.
Yet out of nowhere, a few mages secretly took Shan upstairs and cast enchanting magic on the armor he had brought.
Naturally, this was thanks to Princess Cheryn, a major patron of the Magic Society, having given them advance word.
“Hmph, so he dressed himself up in new armor.”
“Maybe the Cockatrice broke whatever he wore before?”
“Looking at the state of it, he poured magic into that armor altogether!”
Of course, this was also the reason why the other knights viewed Shan with gazes mixed with jealousy and contempt.
Unlike their armor, which showed clear marks of having been through all sorts of hard battles even if well-repaired and maintained, Shan’s armor was so glossy that anyone could tell it had never been in a single fight.
At that moment, the announcer’s voice could be heard from afar.
“[The thirty-fifth participant! Sir Katra of House Dalik from Rondo Gorge! The young hero who hunted the Banshee of Lanche Plains, the possessed tiger of Corban Village, and the man-eating troll of Obilos has arrived!]”
“Huh, could it be?”
When Shan brightened up upon hearing a familiar name and familiar achievements, Roden also nodded in agreement.
“It seems right… No, it seems to be him.”
As expected, the person entering was Sir Katra, with whom he had hunted the troll in the past.
The young squire standing beside him was also a familiar face.
Wearing a solemn expression, the young knight looked around, and upon spotting Shan, his face brightened as he approached.
“I thought it was someone with the same name, but it really was you! How on earth are you here? Don’t tell me you’ve already become a knight?”
Judging by his tone, the fact that Shan, an Altoan, had become a knight was not particularly surprising to him.
He was merely surprised by the fact that he had become a knight in just a single year.
Glad to meet an acquaintance after a long time, Shan also smiled and replied.
“Yes. Connections just happened to align.”
“Do you happen to know that young friend, Sir Katra?”
The one who barged in with the question was a middle-aged knight who had grown a thick beard like Roden.
However, his physique was not particularly robust, and being scrawny, he gave off a somewhat gloomy impression.
“Ah, Baron Ragol! Long time no see. Yes. Shan here… Ah, you said he became a knight? I have a history with Sir Shan. We hunted the troll of Obilos City together in the past. At that time, I was saved when I was on the brink of death.”
As he had mentioned before, Sir Katra unhesitatingly revealed that he had preserved his life with Shan’s help.
At his honesty, which was uncharacteristic of a knight who lived and died by honor, the other knights nearby wore bewildered expressions.
“Heh, you really took down a troll?”
“There was even talk that that boy took down a Cockatrice.”
At those words, Sir Katra asked with a surprised expression as if he had forgotten.
“That’s right, I was going to ask you a moment ago, but I forgot. You took down a Cockatrice? Is that true? That stone lizard?”
“Yes. I didn’t take it down completely alone; I received a bit of help.”
“It’s hard to believe, but… well, considering you possessed the skill to fight a troll one-on-one even before awakening Fighting Spirit, doubting you is ridiculous. But I hadn’t heard anything about such a creature appearing.”
“I was in the Demonic Realm until recently. I hunted it there.”
“Did you happen to sever its head and bring it along?”
“I left it in the garden of the house where I’m currently staying.”
“I’d really love to see it. If it wouldn’t be rude, may I ask for an invitation after today’s tournament ends?”
Rather than doubting the truth, his face looked genuinely curious about the Cockatrice’s head.
Indeed, even if knights ran around trying to hunt one, it was a creature rarely seen once in decades, so it was only natural.
“Of course.”
“Thank you! Then I should head to my place soon. Let’s have a good match.”
After Sir Katra moved away with words of encouragement, the gazes of the knights watching Shan from around slowly shifted.
If before it had been a pathetic gaze asking ‘what on earth did he rely on to put forward such achievements,’ now it had changed to a degree of harboring suspicion, thinking ‘could it be?’
Realizing this, Roden whispered so others could not hear.
“That’s a shame.”
“Why?”
“If they had looked down on you, you would have disposed of the first round easily.”
“It’s fine as long as I win everything with skill.”
If his skill required inducing carelessness like that to win, dreaming of victory would have been impossible from the start anyway.
Roden also chuckled as if agreeing.
*
After the commentator continued calling out participants, over eighty knights finally gathered in the massive arena.
Following encouraging words from a certain count, the first match began shortly after.
“[The contestants participating in the first match are Sir Ron of House Katya and Baron Garn! O Goddess, please grant your blessing to the winner!]”
“Win!”
“Kill him!”
Excited by the cheers echoing from all around, the horses snorted and stamped their hooves.
A moment later, the two knights setting off from both sides charged toward each other at full speed.
“Here it comes, here it comes, here it comes!”
“Ohhhhh!”
Charging for a few seconds with long lances blunted at the tips tightly tucked under their armpits.
The moment the two crossed, along with a roar loud enough to reverberate across the vast tournament grounds, one knight fell from his horse.
“Ahhh.”
“No! Get up! Please!”
“My money…”
“Awesome! I won! I won!”
Cheers and laments from acquaintances of the two competing knights and gamblers who had wagered money on the outcome echoed from all around.
The dismounted knight passed out on the spot, was ruled defeated, and reopened his eyes after receiving healing miracles from priests waiting nearby.
“Did I… did I lose?”
“You worked hard, my lord.”
“Kugh…”
Pain in his chest struck by the lance made the knight grimace and groan.
While Roden checked the horse’s physical condition as a squire, Shan watched the match proceeding beyond the window as if spellbound.
‘Wow…’
He had seen knights dueling on the battlefield in the past and had tried something similar to a joust with Feonil, but watching such a tournament in person was a first for him.
Yet seeing it from up close like this, the intensity was even greater than he had imagined.
Was it because they could completely exclude surrounding circumstances and focus solely on the one-on-one duel? He could feel that the knights’ immersion and concentration were on a different level.
The cheers and laments echoing from the spectator stood each time a knight collapsed also heightened his emotions.
It was because he felt as though through this fight, one was controlling the hearts of tens of thousands of people at will.
“Do not lean out and stare too much.”
Right then, the knight sitting opposite Shan spoke softly.
“Pardon?”
“If you keep watching other people’s matches, you’ll grow tense and your body will stiffen up. You would do well to compose your mind during that time. To properly control Fighting Spirit, it is better to calm your emotions.”
He seemed to have assumed that Shan’s deep immersion in the outside match was due to fear.
Since there was no sign of mockery and it felt like genuinely well-meaning advice, Shan nodded and sat down.
Silently closing his eyes and focusing his consciousness inward, he could indeed feel that he had been overly excited, just as the man had said.
Had he gone straight into a match in this state, handling Fighting Spirit would likely have been somewhat unnatural.
Of course, whether that would have affected the outcome of the fight was a different matter.
Around the time he felt his mind had thoroughly calmed down, a voice calling Shan could be heard from outside.
“[The next match is Shan of House Barendil and Garn of House Finua!]”
As Shan leaped up from his seat, the man who had advised him from opposite also stood up likewise.
The two looked at each other with awkward expressions.
“My, to think we’re first-round opponents…”
Pondering briefly how to respond, Shan lightly bowed his head and spoke.
“I hope we can have a good match.”
“Indeed.”
A short while later, having stepped onto the arena grounds, Shan lowered his helmet’s visor and held the lance and shield in each hand.
On the opposite side, he saw the knight who had given him advice moments ago preparing in a similar manner.
As they stood in their designated spots, flags bearing the coats of arms of House Barendil and House Finua crossed at the midpoint.
‘Ready…’
Whoosh! As the flags were raised, two warhorses began charging toward each other.
Aiming his lance, Shan recalled the tips for jousting duels he had heard from Sir Darkal in the past.
‘First is the proper manipulation of the lance and shield.’
Accurately targeting the opponent’s head with a lance while atop a horse galloping at full speed was by no means an easy task.
Even so, if one compromised slightly and aimed for the chest instead of the head, the possibility of being blocked by the shield increased dramatically from then on, and even if it landed, inflicting enough impact to dislodge the rider was far from easy.
On top of that, having to simultaneously defend against the opponent’s lance with one’s shield meant that even three eyes would hardly be enough.
Of course, for Shan, this was merely a technique he could perform as effortlessly as breathing.
Given that he was capable of using different weapons in both hands, what big deal was thrusting a lance while defending at the same time?
‘Second is the control of the warhorse.’
Unlike tournaments in certain regions, Hasra’s jousting tournament had no tilt barrier separating the two knights.
In other words, it meant that sharply swerving the horse’s head mid-gallop to pivot from the opponent’s left to right was entirely possible.
Of course, fleeing out of total loss of fighting spirit resulted in disqualification by the referees.
The problem was that controlling the horse precisely was difficult in a situation where one could not hold the reins because both hands held a lance and shield.
Under such conditions, if both riders failed to properly read each other’s movements, the horses sometimes collided; in such cases, being severely injured was lucky, while bad luck could result in death.
The horses, needless to say, died instantly.
‘And finally third, the regulation of Fighting Spirit.’
In truth, this could be called the beginning and end of a jousting duel, the most crucial element.
Since skilled knights often clashed lance against shield, matches in the upper tier were frequently decided by how much of the Fighting Spirit drawn forth at the moment of impact was distributed between offense and defense.
In the first place, imbuing Fighting Spirit simultaneously with the opposing mental images of ‘attack’ and ‘defense’ was a high-level technique, so most focused on either offense or defense alone; since it was not visible externally, one had to rely purely on instinct and experience.
Concentrating a large amount of Fighting Spirit into the lance to strike the chest first and dislodge the opponent?
Concentrating Fighting Spirit into the shield to block the lance while accurately striking the head with a small amount of Fighting Spirit to dislodge the opponent?
Or splitting it exactly half-and-half, enduring a certain level of impact while hoping the opponent concentrated on attacking, and thrusting simultaneously?
Even so, becoming overly absorbed in this risked neglecting the fundamentals of lance and shield handling.
‘Which one could it be…’
Quietly watching the knight charging from the opposite direction, Shan gradually distributed and loaded Fighting Spirit into his lance and shield.
The important thing here was that one must not load the mental image of ‘piercing’ into the lance.
Loading the mental image of ‘blunt impact’ to blow the opponent away, resulting in a broken neck or crushed internal organs from the heavy blow, was considered an accident, but intentionally loading the mental image of piercing into the lance to impale shield and armor was regarded as one of the most despicable methods of assassination.
At the moment of collision, Shan raised his shield diagonally to accurately deflect the opponent’s lance, while simultaneously thrusting his own lance into the opponent’s helmet to push him back.
Knowing it would not be blocked by the shield, he deliberately loaded little Fighting Spirit, yet the overwhelming speed generated as the two horses crossed was enough to cause a thunderous roar and unseat the knight.
Had he concentrated all his Fighting Spirit into the lance, the man’s neck would likely have broken on the spot, killing him instantly.
“Oh, he won!”
“The boy knight won!”
At Shan’s victory, cheering voices broke out from all directions.
After all, did humans not have an instinct to go wild over situations where the underdog defeated the strong?
The sight of Shan, standing at barely around 160 centimeters, toppling an adult man who was clearly half a head taller than himself was more than enough to stimulate catharsis.
Quite apart from the fact that he was a lowly Altoan.
As he returned to his spot, Roden grabbed the horse’s reins and smiled.
“Good work, Sir Shan.”
“This jousting tournament is even more fun than I thought.”
Should he say that the difference between hearing about it and trying it himself was even bigger than expected?
Above all, the fact that it involved a strong psychological element rather than merely moving one’s body was particularly enjoyable.
“Should we buy another suit of armor later and try it between ourselves?”
“Please spare me.”
Chuckling briefly at Roden’s groaning, Shan’s sensitive ears accurately caught a few cheers coming from amidst the buzzing noise and criticism.
“Awesome, Shan!”
“Do your best!”
“Win the next match too!”
The owners of the voices were the few Altoans in the arena.
As they had been able to pay quite a bit of money to come watch the jousting tournament, they were on the wealthier side for Altoans, yet they were still far from high society.
Yet a member of their own kin, even still a young boy, was shining brighter than anyone down in that arena below.
How could their blood not boil? How could they not pour out these emotions?
Seeing his kin, Shan grinned broadly and raised his lance high into the air.