Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Crushing the Nobles
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Hihihihihiing!
The warhorse named after the Wind Spirit King reacted instantly to its master's command.
"Knights! Let's charge! We'll beat those arrogant bastards flat!"
Uoooooh!
At Eugene's booming shout, the free knights hidden in the forest burst out in a swarm.
"What!?"
"Didn't they say fewer than twenty?"
The moment they spotted the horde of free knights behind the black dragon banner, the noble knights—who had been charging in high spirits—went pale.
"W-what do we do?"
"We're doomed at this rate! Captured by those lowly scum? A disgrace to the family!"
The noble knights hastily halted their charge and milled about in confusion.
Meanwhile, the free knights, led by the black dragon banner, were galloping straight toward them. Unable to withstand the pressure, one knight finally hurled his wooden lance.
"Sir Jeremy!"
"You're not suggesting surrender, are you!?"
"As if!"
Baron Jeremy drew the longsword hanging from his saddle.
"If it's come to this, we fight for real. With true steel, we won't lose to rabble like them, right?"
"……!"
The knights' eyes widened at the sight of the longsword gleaming with silver light.
But soon enough, they too began discarding their wooden swords and lances, drawing their real weapons one by one.
"Exactly! No way we lose to wandering beggars like that!"
"Jan Eugene? Even as lord of Twin Crowns, he's got no real combat experience against true knights like us."
"More knights will arrive soon. We just hold out till then. Even if a few of ours die, they'll pay the ransom."
"Right! Deaths happen in knight tournaments—what's the big deal?"
"We just need to capture Jan Eugene! Knights! Charge!"
Uoooooh!
The noble knights, their pride and confidence exploding, and their squires all gripped real weapons and charged at the free knights once more.
"Th-those lunatics?"
"Sir Eugene! What now!?"
As the free knights wavered, Eugene bellowed.
"They started it! I'll handle it—you follow behind!"
Thududududu!
Proving its noble bloodline, Silion—who had already sprinted dozens of meters at full gallop—pounded the earth even harder, showing no sign of fatigue.
A few seconds later, Eugene clashed head-on with the noble knights.
* * *
"Not far now?"
"Just beyond that hill! They sent a vanguard, so they're probably forming up there."
"Good."
Baron Ismael, lord of Rotvia, smiled in satisfaction.
'Good thing I prepositioned those mercenaries ahead of time.'
Strictly speaking, it was against the rules, but racking up achievements and winning in the mock battle turned even that into brilliant strategy.
And as far as Baron Ismael knew, at least three or four others had the same idea.
But he'd been the first to spot and target the mock battle's biggest prize. It was proof that the gods favored him.
"Baron Ismael, shouldn't we rest a bit? The horses look a little winded from pushing so hard."
After a moment's thought at the knight's words, Baron Ismael shook his head.
"They might have sent scouts. We can't give them time to prepare. Let's end this quick."
"Hmm. True, only about twenty of them, and most in crappy armor anyway. Fine, let's do it."
Baron Ismael and his accompanying knights were all clad in plate armor or plate mail.
Even their squires wore high-quality plate coats or fine chain mail.
In contrast, most free knights were poor at best, managing only chain mail—and some so destitute they wore just hauberks.
A wooden sword could still inflict plenty of pain depending on where and how it struck.
But wooden weapons barely scratched plate mail.
Even metal maces or warhammers struggled against it sometimes—wooden ones were a joke.
For that reason, Baron Ismael and the knights were utterly convinced of victory.
'Even dozens of those guys together are just post-meal exercise.'
Jan Eugene was a slight concern, but wielding only wooden swords and lances, he couldn't withstand a combined assault from six or seven plate-armored knights.
Or so they thought—until growing closer to the hill and hearing some kind of commotion.
"What's that noise? Gasp!?"
Baron Ismael, charging vigorously over the hill, went wide-eyed.
* * *
"They're really coming again?"
"Yeah. How much of trash do they think we are?"
The free knights—who had just been beating the first batch of noble squires like dogs—rolled their eyes.
"Knights, stay calm. We'll handle this batch the same way."
At Eugene's cool voice, the free knights snapped to attention.
Just moments ago, when Eugene had charged alone like a storm, they hadn't fully trusted his words.
They figured he'd take out one or two knights at best, leaving the rest to them.
But they'd been wrong.
A pitch-black javelin flew from Eugene's hand, piercing one noble knight's shoulder before tracing an arc through the air like a living serpent and returning to his grasp.
Using the same method to down two more knights, Eugene then drew his battle axe at the last moment, smashing their lances and swords and unhorsing the rest.
They'd paid dearly for using real weapons banned in the mock battle.
Awed by his overwhelming skill and strength, the free knights could only shudder.
After that, their job had been simple.
Less than three minutes after the noble knights were routed, they attacked the squires plunged into panic, beating them half to death.
And now, as Eugene and Lanslo had predicted, another group of noble knights arrived.
"Ah! Those guys are trying to flee!"
The moment a free knight shouted, Eugene and Lanslo spurred their horses forward.
Thududududu!
"Mirian!"
"Leave it to me! Keeeet!"
Mirian shot up the hill like the wind, landing right in front of the noble knights wheeling their mounts to escape.
"Ptooey! Ptoo-hat! Ptui ptui ptui!"
He spat repeatedly through the narrow slits of their helmets.
"Ugh!?"
"W-water in my eyes?"
Blinded by the invisible spirit's phlegm barrage, the knights yanked off their helmets one after another.
"Master! What's wrong?"
"Sir Rodell!?"
As knights and squires panicked, Eugene and Lanslo—nearly at the hilltop—grabbed the wooden swords mounted by their saddles.
Crack!
The sharp blow sent Baron Ismael tumbling from his saddle without even a scream.
Even a wooden sword to the unprotected back of the head was fatal—that much was basic.
Crack! Thwack! Pow pow pow!
"Kuak!"
"Gak!"
"Kek!"
Eugene struck with his wooden sword, Lanslo with his wooden lance, targeting the noble knights' heads relentlessly.
"Th-this... Gasp!?"
The squires, slow to counterattack, bulged their eyes.
Waaaaaah!
The free knights, starting a bit later than the two leaders, charged with a roar.
And the beatdown began anew.
Pow pow pow pow pow!
"Uwaak!"
"Save me! Raaak! Help! Mercy!"
"Aaak! Ack! Ack!"
They lacked Eugene's monstrous strength, but the free knights' strikes were vicious.
Trained from childhood in merciless drills, they knew exactly where to hit for maximum pain.
"Look at these squire brats—nice armor!"
"But skills like shit!"
Having trained more with wooden swords than steel due to poverty, and mastering both giving and taking pain over long years, the free knights' thrashing was merciless.
Lanslo even had to hold them back lest they beat the squires to death.
Once the several minutes of beating wrapped up, Eugene addressed the free knights.
"Knights. More will come soon, so take one of these now."
"Oh! Got it!"
The knights chorused and pulled something from their pockets, swallowing it down.
It was mana crystals Eugene had generously bought and distributed.
Even in real wars, wealthy knights popped mana crystals regularly. Nothing restored expended energy like them.
But these poor free knights were mostly tasting mana crystals for the first time.
"Ooh! Strength surging!"
"Such an effect! Top-grade mana crystals, right?"
In truth, they were the lowest grade with the weakest effect, but to first-timers, even that was astonishing.
And that astonishment soon turned to another emotion.
"Handing out treasures like this! Sir Eugene's magnanimity is..."
"Truly the only honorable knight is Sir Eugene! I, Kailer of Alamars, swear from this day to grant any one request from Sir Eugene!"
"Me too!"
"Sir Eugene!"
As the knights' reactions shifted from camaraderie to outright praise, Eugene feigned humility.
"Knights. Focus on the battle now. Not for me, Jan Eugene, but for all of us! For our noble honor—fight on!"
Uoooooh!!!
As the free knights' resolve blazed anew, the spirit shook his head.
"As expected, milord is king of both battle and scams."
* * *
In two more battles after that, Eugene and the free knights captured 21 noble knights and their squires.
Fortunately, no deaths, but those who'd discarded wooden weapons for real steel were all badly wounded.
Without Eugene's mercy in feeding them mana crystals, ten or so would have crossed the River Styx already.
In any case, over sixty knights and squires total—disarmed and bound—were handed over to the spectator and referee stand where Earl Winslon sat.
"Incredible! Truly incredible!"
"I thought he was just a martial prodigy, but such brilliant tactics too!"
From the mountaintop pavilion overlooking the vast hunting grounds, Earl Winslon and the VIPs gasped in admiration nonstop.
At the same time, they condemned the noble knights blinded by achievements into folly.
"Sir Ismael, Sir Lubran—far too arrogant. I expected more from such famed knights. Disappointing."
"They're the type chasing fame over honor, aren't they?"
"Exactly."
Knights already titled or high-ranking often obsessed over fame, needing no formal knighting.
Baron Ismael and Sir Lubran fit that bill perfectly.
"Kuh!"
Hearing the VIPs, the two flushed crimson. But unable to deny it, they stayed silent.
Their squires spoke up in defense.
"Sir Eugene was too cowardly."
"Right. Any knight of honor and chivalry would fight fair and..."
"Shut it!"
"Hik!"
Baron Ismael ground his teeth at the squire, face terrifying.
"How much more disgrace do you want for me? Who kept us from dying?"
"S-sorry! Forgive me, master."
The squire, face bruised from the free knights' beating, bowed hastily.
"I was complacent. Sir Eugene just anticipated it and countered perfectly. I lost to a superior knight."
"I agree."
"Same here. The red team's victory under Sir Eugene taught me my flaws."
Led by Baron Ismael, the captured noble knights began praising Eugene one after another.
"……?"
The squires couldn't comprehend the sudden shift.
Just hours ago, their masters had mocked Eugene and the red team as wandering beggars.
But it was natural.
Having lost, praising the foe preserved some face.
Far better to say they'd narrowly fallen in fierce combat to honorable knights led by a legendary figure than beaten like dogs by vagabond trash, no?
This mood among the captured nobles led to an unexpected development.
"Prepare the ransom."
"H-how much?"
"Our gear, horses, and our value. Hmm. About a thousand silver coins should do."
"Y-yes?"
The squires gaped at the enormous sum.
But the noble knight, entranced, spoke solemnly.
"Honor can't be measured in coin. But to show even a fragment, we must pay at least that. Especially to a hero like Sir Eugene—not a penny wasted."
Hearing this, the other knights urged their squires as if by agreement.
"Prepare our ransom too!"
"But master, we're short on silver."
"Sell the horses if you must! You want to shame me further?"
"No, sir!"
"Send word to the homeland at once! Have them bring the shortfall immediately!"
A fiery ransom dick-measuring contest erupted among the losers.
(To be continued)
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