Gerard's Tournament (1)

He laid a plank of Draconian Oak across another in a cross and lashed them together with roots, binding everything tight.

Don't be fooled by appearances — he was a master carpenter. Work like this was nothing.

And so a brand-new practice dummy was born.

"There we go."

Perfect. Even as-is, this thing was exactly what he needed for training.

Swish.

Raising a hand, he fired off a few test Thunder Strikes.

Craka-ka-ka-ka-ka!

Bolts of lightning shot up from his fingertips and hammered down twice in succession.

And yet—

"Ooh."

Aside from a few faint scratches, the dummy stood unscathed. It had absorbed most of the force, and whatever it couldn't absorb seemed to dissipate harmlessly into the ground.

Could I make this thing even tougher?

The thought occurred to him out of nowhere, so he tried casting Master Growths on it as an experiment. But—

Nope. Not growing.

It didn't take.

Of course. The wood Plantman produced was already lumber — a tree whose life had ended. Growths only worked on living plants. A little disappointing, sure, but hoping for more than this would be plain greed. He was more than satisfied as it was.

Alright. Time to grind out that proficiency, hard and fast.

He loosened up his body all over again.

Either way, he could only linger in this city a short while before moving on. Seo Hwarang's final destination was the capital of the continent — his main goal was to enter the academy there and devour its vast collection of magical texts.

A shiver ran down his spine. Just imagining that moment sent dopamine surging through him.

Let's get to it.

Craka-ka-ka-ka-ka!

A new feast of magic began pouring from Seo Hwarang's hands. The ground caved in, and shards of stone scattered in every direction.

Around that time, Yoo Seon-ah's group was at Brandel's Magic Guild. As for her, she had her 2nd Circle bronze badge issued on the spot — the test spell being, of course, Thunder Strike.

"Excellent!"

"Very clean execution!"

"Truly impressive skill. A lightning-attribute specialist, I presume?"

That one spell had everyone in the room giving her a thumbs-up and their stamp of approval.

Afterward, since it was their first day in the city, they wandered around taking in the sights. They browsed the sprawling market and open-air bazaars, snacked their way through the food stalls. Bella, for her part, was absolutely beside herself with delight.

"Honestly... it's all so wonderful. Look at those artists over there! There are even musicians! Who knew the world could be this beautiful? So this is what traveling is all about!"

Ring-a-ling!

The city was freer than they'd expected. Music drifted through the streets, fortune-tellers plied their trade, and artisans displayed the clothes, furniture, and weapons they'd crafted. The locals, evidently content with their lives, wore faces full of vigor — and naturally, the country girl Bella's eyes sparkled as her head swiveled every which way.

Then, mid-wander—

"Huh?"

Bella spotted a large poster plastered on a wall.

"Whoa! Unnie! Come look at this!"

"What is it?"

Yoo Seon-ah came over for a look, but all she could see was a wall of incomprehensible symbols. Bella read it aloud for her.

"It says Lord Brandel is recruiting a champion for the city ahead of Gerard's Tournament!"

"Huh? What does that even mean?"

"So, um — the duchy holds a dueling festival every year with enormous prizes! It's called Gerard's Tournament!"

Bella launched into an explanation, her voice buzzing with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠excitement. As it turned out, there was some kind of festival where champions were chosen from the four cities — east, west, south, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠north — to duel in a bracket format. This notice was apparently the call for candidates. Mage or swordsman, it didn't matter; they were picking exactly four representatives.

"But that's got nothing to do with us, though?"

"Hehe, you think? Still, they say it's a once-a-year festival... I bet it'd be fun to watch before we go."

Bella's eyes glimmered. Honestly, this girl.

"We're just resting up before heading to the capital. This isn't a vacation."

"Yeees, of course not."

"Mm. Let's get going."

"Well, just in case—"

Rip!

Bella tore off one of the flyer slips pinned below the poster and tucked it into her sleeve.

Even as the sky darkened toward evening, Seo Hwarang hadn't stopped training.

Craka-ka-ka-ka-ka!

He had come to this world to read books. And to read them?

He had to grind his average skill proficiency to 80 as fast as humanly possible. There was no time to waste.

So how much time had passed?

"Hey, Hwarang!"

Yoo Seon-ah's group walked in.

"You were training this whole time? Unbelievable. Training or not, you gotta eat."

"True."

She had a point. Work as hard as he might, eating and sleeping came first — that was how he built the strength to train again.

When the hour arrived, the inn staff began carrying dishes out one by one to the massive table in the common room. This was a high-class inn, after all, and the quality of the food showed it: cold beer and Brandel's traditional dishes, fresh from the oven.

"Master! Master!"

Bella took the opportunity to chatter away about everything that had happened — including Gerard's Tournament.

"With skill like yours, Master, I really think you should enter! They say the prize for winning here is incredible!"

"Bella!"

Yoo Seon-ah narrowed her eyes in warning — but Seo Hwarang's gaze sharpened with curiosity.

Prize?

"Yes, the prize! They say Duke Waldheim himself personally gifts a weapon to the tournament champion every year — legendary weapons, each one worthy of its own chapter in a book!"

"Weapons, huh."

Come to think of it, he was already casting skills with his bare hands. A staff of some kind would be handy...

"Eh, still."

Seo Hwarang shook his head. Time spent in the tournament was time he should be spending entering the capital and getting into the academy. Weapons he could buy on Earth anyway. Books mattered more to him.

Bella, desperate to see the tournament, must have realized she was losing him — because she finally played her trump card.

"Oh, and also! Even just being chosen as Brandel's champion comes with amazing rewards! The lord of Brandel is Count Adrian Lowell, you see, and they say he grants one wish to anyone who fights for Brandel's honor!"

A wish?

What was that supposed to mean?

"Look, it's right here. It says so!"

Bella pulled the flyer from her sleeve and pointed at the paper.

Sorry, Bella. Can't read that.

Skill Book Collect was sealed, and besides, skill books were the only texts he could read in the first place.

"If you're chosen as champion! Private audience with the Count! He'll grant one wish within reason! For the citizens here, that's an honor beyond words!"

"Hmm. A wish, is it."

Well. Suppose he asked for books?

"Master, remember how you were looking for high-Circle grimoires? A count-level noble is bound to own quite a few! Ah — though Brandel is more famous for its knights, so maybe he'd have more swordsmanship manuals?"

"......?"

Hold on.

Books?

Really?

The light in Seo Hwarang's eyes changed.

Now that stirred his curiosity.

It wasn't that he loved magic books in particular. It was books — any books he could read — that he loved. Which meant?

Martial arts manuals, swordsmanship treatises, archery tomes — anything at all. Hand him a skill book he could read, and he'd be grateful.

"You're saying they give out swordsmanship books? When does this tournament thing happen, anyway?"

"When the sun has risen fourteen more times!"

Two weeks from now.

Hmm.

He'd planned to rest for a week before moving on anyway. One more week couldn't hurt, could it?

"What do you think, Noona?"

"Me? I'll follow you wherever you want to go. But can people like us actually get picked?"

That was the real problem — nobody knew how strong the competition here actually was.

"Hmm."

But honestly. Seo Hwarang grinned.

So what if he didn't know? If he lost, he lost, and they'd head straight to the capital. It wasn't like losing meant dying.

For starters—

This place wasn't Earth. He'd treat it as just another dungeon to raid for books. There was no reason to hide his strength here — if anything, flaunting it might be better. In a world like this, showing your power was how you earned proper treatment, and with proper treatment came better access to books.

"Bella."

"Yes!"

"Where do I sign up for that?"

"Y-you're really entering?"

"Weren't you the one lecturing me into it this whole time?"

"Th-that's right! Yes! Okay! I'll find out all the details tomorrow!"

"Sure, sure."

Whatever. He figured it was this world's version of the Grand Martial Tournament that popped up in every martial-arts epic. And for sizing up where the power levels of this continent actually stood, nothing could beat it.

Let's do this.

The application process was simple. A judge had been stationed in front of the castle, and—

"Oh."

From early morning, a huge crowd had gathered outside the castle walls, buzzing with excitement.

"Now, the selection is simple! You see these Iron Wood dummies here? All you have to do is smash one apart or cut it clean through in a single blow!"

Aaah.

That thing!

A pleasant expression crossed Seo Hwarang's face. He'd reduced one of those to dust with magic just yesterday.

All I have to do is smash that to be picked as champion? That's... simpler than I expected?

"Let me try!"

Whoosh!

That was when the shirtless, muscle-bound swordsman stepped forward. Sword drawn and gleaming, his rugged physique seemed to proclaim that he was no ordinary man.

"Yes — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it must be cut in one strike."

"No problem at all! Huaaaahhhh!"

Shaaaaang!

The swordsman struck the dummy with blistering speed, but—

Thwack!

The blade sank uselessly into the dummy's side. It didn't so much as split the wood, and from the looks of it, he was struggling just to pull it back out.

"Buahaha!"

"Wahaha!"

The crowd erupted into howls of laughter as the swordsman grunted and strained at his stuck blade, his face flushing crimson with embarrassment.

"Ha! Looks easy, but it's harder than it looks!"

"No kidding. A swordsman needs to be at least a low-tier Sword Expert, and a mage needs a minimum of 4th Circle to crack one of those."

"Don't underestimate Iron Wood."

"Honestly, a full week of that and we might not even get four people through."

"Aw, come on. There's still Rian and Selina!"

"Those two are the real deal! They've been selected every single year!"

Rian Failin, the 4th Circle Battle Mage known as 'Thunder's Rian Failin.' And Selina Valdor, the low-tier Sword Expert known as 'Twin Swords' Selina Valdor.'

The two of them were the heroes of Brandel. Maybe not favorites to win the whole thing, but they made it to the quarterfinals every time, bringing pride and joy to the city's people.

Still, the citizens of Brandel nursed one cherished dream: to see a champion crowned from their own city, just once. They had come agonizingly close — runners-up more than once — but never champions. Not once.

"Master."

That was when Bella tugged at Seo Hwarang's sleeve.

"Do you think you could break one of those...?"

"Maybe I just shouldn't try?"

Her face was tight with worry. Watching the swordsman make a fool of himself right in front of them had only made it worse. She hated the thought of Seo Hwarang becoming someone's punchline on her account.

"That thing?"

Seo Hwarang scratched his head. He'd annihilated one completely before — but just breaking one? How was he supposed to control his strength for that? No idea.

Ugh, whatever. Just wing it.

Step.

Seo Hwarang was about to walk out, thinking nothing of it, when—

Ding!

Oh-ho?

A quest?

Seo Hwarang's eyes lit up.

So asking the Count for a favor was the real deal, huh. Gotta love it when the system confirms it for you.

In that case—

Should I just vaporize the thing in one spectacular flash? If I'm going to put on a show, might as well ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠make it a proper one.