Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: The Mock Battle Proposal
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“Kieghoo! A distinguished guest has graced this humble abode!”
Unlike moments ago, the spirit was kicking up a proper fuss, using formal speech.
“Sent by His Lordship the Count? Huh? Here to take our master back to the castle? Say it is! Please, handsome knight sir!”
Pouring out pleas that wouldn’t be heard anyway, Mirian buzzed around Lancelot’s vicinity like a housefly.
Eugene fixed Mirian with a steady glare and shot him a meaningful look.
“Kiek!”
The startled creature caught the silent command in Eugene’s eyes and bolted out of the tent.
Lancelot, naturally, hadn’t seen Mirian at all, and he took a seat on the chair Luke had swiftly wiped down.
“Then I’ll take my leave. Call for me if you need anything, Master.”
“Yeah.”
Luke bowed at the waist, gave Lancelot a silent nod of respect, then exited the tent.
“Your squire’s quick on the uptake. Fine build too, and from his gait, it looks like he’s put in solid training.”
“Not a squire—a slave. Viscount Fairchild, son-in-law to Count Winslow, gave him to me as a gift.”
Lancelot looked surprised at Eugene’s reply.
“You equipped a slave with a sword, armor, and even a horse?”
“He’s quite useful, as you saw.”
“...As expected, you’re no ordinary man. I’m astonished by you in more ways than one, Sir Eugene.”
Eugene replied calmly to Lancelot, who flashed his characteristically kindhearted smile.
“I’m astonished too. You’re really Count Winslow’s knight? Then what was that guard act earlier?”
“Haha. It wasn’t an act—it was a real job. The one who gave me the sword, armor, and horse asked me to do it, so I had no choice.”
“Count Winslow did?”
“Yes.”
Eugene was puzzled.
Even for a great noble with his own knight order, using a knight as a guard?
No, even more baffling—a proud knight following such an order in the first place.
‘No, wait. He just said “asked,” didn’t he?’
Eugene intuited that the relationship between Count Winslow and Lancelot wasn’t your typical lord-knight dynamic. But for now, he decided to play dumb.
“Anyway, why are you here?”
“Same deal—Count Winslow asked me to come meet you.”
“Hmm.”
“Those Dogae Church Holy Knights who were rude to you were freelance knights, but no slouches in skill. And you routed three of them.”
“So?”
“The Count grew very curious about you. He naturally assumed you’d come to the castle to pay respects, but you set up camp outside entirely, so here we are. He didn’t say it, but he’s probably pretty miffed.”
Lancelot shrugged with a meaningful smile.
“That all?”
“You really are no ordinary man, Sir Eugene.”
The organizer of the knight tournament—a great noble any knight would kill to serve—was miffed.
No knight would stay unshaken hearing that. Yet Eugene didn’t so much as twitch an eyelid.
“Here’s the point. The Count wants you and me on the same team for the mock battle.”
“For the mock battle?”
Eugene had heard all about the knight tournament from Galpredic.
It consisted of three main events: jousting, swordsmanship bouts, and the mock battle.
Jousting was the crowd favorite by far, but lords and nobles placed great weight on the mock battle.
Large-scale clashes of forces were the true reason nobles poured fortunes into maintaining knights.
“Why should I? And you’ve got no issue fighting alongside me?”
“Issue? Perish the thought. What knight wouldn’t relish fighting beside the man who aided Archduke Ascendra in ending the chaos on the Karsbaegin Peninsula?”
“You knew that?”
“Indeed. I was fishing, actually. My apologies.”
Eugene felt like he’d taken a hit as Lancelot grinned sheepishly. He’d sensed it at the gates too—Lancelot was no ordinary fellow.
“With knights flocking from everywhere for the tournament, all sorts of rumors fly. I took interest in one about the Karsbaegin Peninsula by chance. Then seeing you today, I pieced together you might be the man.”
“Hmm. Fair enough. But you still haven’t answered why I should fight on your team.”
“In this tournament, jousting’s worth 30 points, swordsmanship 30, and mock battle 40. To win, you need victory there—and a standout performance.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Haha. You’re sharp. Any other knight would’ve agreed by now and pushed to lead the team himself.”
“I’m like that. So why me on your team?”
Lancelot wiped the smile from his face and spoke gravely.
“To win, you must fight with me. Because I’m... well, pretty damn good. Very good.”
“...”
Eugene stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then said coldly,
“Cut the bullshit and give me the real reason.”
“That was real! I fight really well. I’m strong.”
“You heard the rumors about what I did on the Karsbaegin Peninsula?”
“Yes. But mock battles are...”
“You hear about me clearing the Archibald family dungeon solo?”
“...!”
“Didn’t hear that one, huh? So don’t spout crap about being strong in front of me.”
Stunned, Lancelot fell silent for a beat, then sighed.
“Whew~ Guess I need to change plans. No, my benchmark was off from the start. I’d based it on you hunting a wyvern. Anyway, straight talk.”
His expression now deadly serious, Lancelot spoke low.
“The Holy Knights’ sudden entry has thrown the tournament into chaos. Tons of entrants already want on their team. To beat them, we’d need to field a horde of Golden Moon Knights, exposing the Count’s forces badly. He’s worried about that.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
Straightening up, Lancelot gave an awkward smile and sat back down.
“Sorry. But from the Count’s view, even acknowledging your skill and deeds, trusting an unseen knight is tough. Especially one recommended but never met.”
“Hmm. Fair.”
Eugene nodded, knowing he’d feel the same in the Count’s shoes, and continued.
“So, basically, the Count wants a team led by other entrants—not Holy Knights—to win the mock battle, and he’d like me in on it?”
“Exactly. Agree, and whatever support you want...”
“No.”
“...!”
Lancelot was genuinely shocked.
He’d seemed so calculating, nitpicking every word, yet he accepted without hesitation once the truth was out?
‘A man of true magnanimity.’
Lancelot felt admiration and emotion swell.
“I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve heard Count Winslow is a man who truly knows knightly honor. A noble in distress asking for aid? No true knight could stand aside.”
How long since he’d met such a manly man, a knight among knights!
‘Shame on me! Scheming against a true knight like this.’
Lancelot brimmed with remorse and despair.
“Sir Eugene. On my honor, I swear: if you lead our team to victory in the mock battle, separate from the Count’s prizes, I’ll grant you one request.”
“Hmm. If that’s what you want.”
Eugene nodded composedly, inwardly thrilled at the windfall but hiding it.
His quick agreement was simple.
‘The tournament sees plenty of deaths, right? And with the Count sending a knight to ask personally, no backlash even if I kill a few.’
One death would surely be Yung Dirhit’s, so Eugene silently thanked his sudden luck.
Oblivious to the dark thoughts, Lancelot gazed at the “true knight” with shining eyes.
* * *
After Lancelot returned to the castle, Eugene stepped out of the tent with Luke.
They entered a pub in Winslow Village.
“Welcome, sir knight. Drink, food, or woman—what’ll it be?”
In the tournament rush, the serving boy spotted Eugene’s plate mail and knew a big spender, greeting him with utmost courtesy.
“Owner around?”
“Yes, sir. One moment.”
Highborn knights summoning pub owners was routine, so the boy fetched him swiftly.
“You called for me, sir knight?”
Eugene extended his hand to the groveling pub owner and said,
“Can you prep wine and ale for a hundred, same for food? Speak if the coin’s short.”
The owner’s jaw dropped at the three gold coins plunked into his palm.
“Oh my! Yes! Of course!”
“Then cart it out to the tent village outside the gates as it’s ready. You know the spot?”
“Absolutely! Wheeled right over!”
* * *
Two hours later, near sunset, several carts rolled into the tent village.
“What’s this?”
“Mmm. Smells good.”
Young knights without knighthoods or deeds yet, and their squires, emerged one by one from their tents.
Luke, waiting upfront with the carts, raised his voice.
“This ale and food is a treat from my master, Sir Yan Eugene! For all you brave knights here! Partake freely! Accepting Sir Eugene’s generosity would honor us greatly!”
“Nothing fancy, but enjoy to your heart’s content. And until the tournament ends, I, Yan Eugene, wish to cover your meals. Will you allow it?”
Standing beside Luke, Eugene rested his right hand on his shortsword’s guard and saluted the knights lightly.
Ooooh...!!!
Admiration rippled like waves.
“Whew! Thought the Winslow knight from the capital was just swaggering, but what a misjudgment.”
“Indeed! First time seeing you, but a true knight of honor!”
“We’ll dig in, Sir Eugene!”
“Sir! Thanks! I’m from Betirak...”
“I salute your boundless magnanimity, like the sea. I’m of the Failon house...”
The freelance knights, who’d eyed Eugene warily after Lancelot and the Winslow knights’ visits, flipped entirely.
Freelancers were always dirt poor—feeding horse and squire alone strained them.
Ones with means took village inns, but tent-dwellers outside the walls were the knightly destitute.
With Eugene offering food and drink till tournament’s end, their excitment was natural.
Of course, Eugene wasn’t flush with cash or bored.
“No, these beggar bastards! Over one silver, they grab collars and brawl? The guy next tent beats his squire like a dog for losing his last shirt! Total chaos!”
Before Lancelot arrived, Eugene had sent Mirian to scout the mood outside. Cocky but capable at such tasks, the spirit reported the freelancers’ reactions unfiltered.
And Eugene resolved.
‘Lots’ll join the Holy Knights’ side for the mock battle? Over half are tent-dwellers here.’
Money buys loyalty.
That loyalty would be Eugene’s sword and shield to smash the Holy Knights’ team and slaughter Yung Dirhit.
(To be continued)
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