Knight Tournament (3)
Northeast of the Royal Capital loomed a tall, rugged mountain.
Officially named Penna Mountain, it was far better known as the royal family's private hunting ground.
The royals had designated the entire mountain as their exclusive preserve, meticulously managing the monsters that spawned there.
They periodically hunted down the dangerous ones and rigorously controlled the population of smaller beasts, turning the place into a massive playground fit for kings.
Critics often decried it as a royal money pit in peacetime, but for hosting the second part of the Knight Tournament, it was perfect.
Hundreds of people crowded around a large bulletin board near the entrance.
Krout's face twisted in mild disgust at the sight.
"We're a bit late, my lord."
"Yeah. Should we wait?"
"As you wish."
But there was no need.
The candidate knights noticed Calix and began parting the crowd one by one.
The noisy murmurs died down in tandem.
Their gazes toward Calix varied wildly—envy, curiosity, jealousy, mockery, even pity.
Envy, curiosity, and jealousy made sense enough, but mockery and pity? Those were harder to fathom.
Hmm, so they took the bait after all?
Thinking that, Calix approached the board and confirmed his suspicions.
[Group 12]
[Lance]
[Sial]
[Bernu]
[Rones]
[Todler]
[Calix Szczecin]
Everyone else was listed by name only.
Commoners.
No matter the grouping criteria, this outcome defied logic.
Calix had dominated the first round with overwhelming scores—anyone could see that.
Even if it was random, the odds of half the handful of commoner participants out of hundreds landing in his group were astronomically low.
Unless someone had rigged it.
"Young master, this..."
Flames blazed in Krout's eyes.
Calix pressed down on his shoulder, sensing an outburst brewing.
"Freaking out here just makes you look like a lunatic. Bottle that rage and unleash it on the bastard who pulled this off."
Krout clenched his jaw at Calix's words.
"The tournament is run by retired Royal Knights. Disgraceful. What could they possibly lack to stoop to this?"
"Royal Knights have families too."
"Servio Viscount's crew again?"
"Nah. The Servio's Kosalin family doesn't have that kind of history."
"Then...?"
"No clue yet. Time to find out."
It didn't take long for the two to get their answer.
"Where's big brother?"
Laila stared blankly at the girl who burst in without knocking.
Celestina Yurin.
A child from a world utterly alien to her own.
Exiled or not, royal blood coursed through her veins—a noble pedigree.
And plenty still followed her.
Laila figured her beauty played a part.
Oval face, skin pale as porcelain.
Deep black eyes, huge and captivating.
Slender shoulders that stirred protective instincts in any man.
Her short hair, brushing her nape, gave her an androgynous air for now.
But in a few years, she'd bloom into a beauty who could rule the Eren Continent.
By contrast, Laila was a commoner who'd rolled in the mud since childhood.
The gulf between their worlds hit her like a ton of bricks.
"What? Why aren't you answering? Where's big brother?"
"The young master went to the Penna Mountain entrance to check the group assignments for part two."
"Tch! He leaves without a word to me..."
Yurin vanished as abruptly as she'd appeared, door still wide open.
Laila rose with a short sigh, intending a garden stroll to clear her head.
She hadn't gone far when raised voices erupted from the salon annex entrance.
Quickening her pace, she spotted a young man in fine clothes gripping a woman's wrist.
Marie, was it? Her maid... What's going on?
Drawing closer, their words sharpened into focus.
"Hey, why play hard to get? I'll pay double—no, triple!"
"I'm just a maid serving the guests here. Not a salon courtesan."
"Argh, come on! First-timers all say that. You'll get used to it. You came here knowing the score, right?"
"You aren't listening. As I said..."
"Ugh! Do you know who I am?!"
The exchange grew heated.
Laila couldn't stand by. She moved to intervene.
Then—
Slap!
"Kyaa!"
The young man backhanded Marie's cheek without mercy.
He advanced on her as she crumpled.
Tsk!
Laila whipped a dagger from her sleeve.
Shing—whish!
The youth recoiled, stumbling back a few steps at the flying blade.
"What the hell?"
"Enough. She's a maid serving the guests here—not yours to manhandle."
"Heh! Fine. Name your price and hand over the bitch. Oh, and you're pretty cute yourself. I'll take you too as a bonus. I like snapping thorny roses for decoration."
"Words aren't getting through. We're not slaves. Leave. One more step, and I won't guarantee your life."
"Kekeke, try it. Touch a Lander heir, and you're dead meat."
As Laila stepped forward, a new figure emerged on the youth's side.
Casual clothes, but sword at hip—bodyguard knight.
Laila sensed he outclassed her vastly. His natural pressure sapped her will to fight.
She balled her fists until her nails bit into her palms.
Gritting her teeth, she recalled her mana breathing method. The suffocating weakness ebbed away.
"Hah, feisty one."
The noble youth's guard widened his eyes in surprise.
His mana breathing suppressed fighting spirit.
Two classes below, most couldn't even lift a sword.
Yet this unremarkable commoner shook it off through sheer will.
It stung his pride.
His lord might doubt his skills if he slipped.
The knight drew his sheathed sword like a club.
"Guess you need a taste of the stick. How dare a lowly commoner glare at noble blood?"
Then Gordon came sprinting from the salon.
"What is this?!"
The noble youth sized up the newcomer.
Gordon wore the knight order uniform, unlike the women.
"Tch!"
He clicked his tongue.
Couldn't rough up an obvious knight.
Reveal the family, and he'll fold.
He cleared his throat for a formal intro.
"Ahem! I am Rublin Lander, eldest son of Lander County. Surely you know his excellency, Commander of the Central Army? State your name and rank."
Not all count families were equal—power varied wildly.
Central Army commander meant iron grip on at least 20,000 elite troops—a top general.
That made Lander County a juggernaut, dwarfing Szczecin.
"I am... Gordon Strauss, a regular knight of Szczecin County."
"Szczecin?"
A sly smile curled Rublin's lips.
Jackpot. This'll be fun.
"You just arrived, so you don't know the situation. I'll explain: these two commoner sluts insulted and defied a noble—me. One even shoved a blade in my face. How will you take responsibility?"
"Hmm..."
Gordon's face darkened.
Marie was the fairest in the group, barring Yurin.
Arrogant young noble + pretty maid? He could guess the rest.
Problem was, this guy wasn't the reasoning type.
His own knight status bought a bare minimum of talk—and compensation demands.
Of all times, young master isn't here...
As Gordon hesitated, a late-arriving Yurin rushed to Marie.
"Marie!"
"M-Miss! Why are you..."
Panicked, Marie tried to stop her—but too late.
Rublin's eyes locked on.
"Oh?"
He grinned crookedly and barked an order.
"Sir Hamilton."
"Yes!"
"Grab that maid bitch. Time she learned the cost of defying nobility."
"Yes, my lord."
As Hamilton stepped forward, Gordon gritted his teeth and blocked Marie.
"Stand down. You know she's done nothing wrong."
"As a knight, you know you can't defy your lord."
"Blind obedience isn't right. If the path is wrong, a true knight speaks up."
"Daring to lecture me? Prove you're right with steel, whelp."
A low shout escaped Hamilton, heat haze rising from his body.
Class 6.
Proclaiming his Sword Owner status, he unleashed mana to crush his foe.
"Urk!"
Gravity felt multiplied five, tenfold.
Still Class 4, Gordon couldn't bridge the gap.
His legs buckled, knees bending slowly.
"Hah!"
Laila charged Hamilton, unable to watch.
"Tch, insolent!"
Pressuring with aura worked one-on-one.
Side interference shattered focus.
But two classes below? Child's play for Hamilton.
He just hated dirtying his blade on rabble.
Whoosh!
"Hng!"
Laila's dagger sliced empty air.
Hamilton vanished in a blink.
Now behind her, he casually seized Marie's nape and strolled back to Rublin.
"Maaarie!"
Yurin wailed in anguish at her limp form over his shoulder.
Rublin read Laila's reaction—more than mere employees.
"Heh heh, she'll pay for insulting me. But if you care to... mingle a bit, I might forgive it. I'm generous with pretty ladies."
"You bastard...!"
Tears welled in Yurin's bloodshot eyes.
Suppressed fury scorched her chest.
Then.
A familiar voice pierced her ears.
"He's right. Way too sleazy and low-rent. Even a third-rate villain would do better."