Newbie Gacha (3): If You Want to Become a Windsor Knight, Come to Terezia Right Now!
"'Luxury goods don't need advertising anyway.'"
As Sisilia had predicted, this simple public notice exploded in popularity.
Freelance knights who'd been waiting for this day, mercenaries harboring dreams of becoming knights someday—they all flooded in from every corner of the land in less than a week. Quite the talent pool.
"Lady Sisilia. Where should we gather the applicants?"
"The dungeon."
"Pardon?"
Sisilia assembled the applicants in a dungeon. But it wasn't a real one. Just a shabby hole-in-the-wall stocked with starved goblins and the undead they spawned upon death.
"Gonna raid it or something?"
"Hmm, looks like a nothingburger dungeon on the surface."
"Primary test seems easy. Nothing special."
"Gah!"
"Demon!"
Thud, thud.
Something massive enough to shake the forest charged straight at the applicants.
"Hngh!"
"M-My god."
A blazing giant golem. Towering as tall as a building, its oppressive aura was no joke.
"Humans! Get lost! This is my turf!"
"Run!"
"Fight that? Insane!"
The knights scattered in panic. Soon, the clearing stood empty.
Rustle—
And then—
Four figures appeared in the now-deserted clearing, a table set before them.
"……."
Chiron and Edward glared at Sisilia, who sat in the center with her chin propped on her hand.
"Sisilia, you didn't... mistake the entry test for child's play, did you?"
Edward forced a smile as he asked.
Sisilia replied flatly.
"Nope."
"……Then care to explain? What good is that brute golem for testing?"
The golem from moments ago was a fake, woven from Sisilia's wind. Edward had added flashy flames for decoration—a design Sisilia absolutely loved.
"This test checks basic potential. We're recruiting below our usual standards this time, but 'growth potential' is non-negotiable."
"Growth potential?"
"The grit to fight enemies stronger than yourself."
How many could solo a raid from the start? But those who kept challenging after failure would eventually succeed.
Sisilia valued grit over lightning reflexes or innate combat sense.
"Knights without the courage to take risks have no place in Windsor."
"Sound logic."
Chiron nodded gravely.
"But did the golem really need to talk?"
Chiron, who'd voiced the golem, protested vigorously.
"Was it that bad...?"
Sisilia wilted like a drenched kitten. Chiron backpedaled hastily.
"No, brilliant idea."
"Voice aside, did you have to wrap it in my Blessing too? Your wind could've intimidated them plenty."
Edward, who'd handled the special effects, asked coldly. As royalty and vice-captain, he smarted at his holy power being wasted on this.
Sisilia covered her mouth, feigning surprise.
"If it's a burden on the vice-captain's mana, no helping it."
"……Who said that?"
Whoosh! The flames engulfing the golem doubled in size.
Sisilia beamed, thoroughly pleased.
"Send in the next group."
Applicants: 535
Phase 1 Passes: 68
Anyone who even tried facing the golem passed. Sisilia's method raised eyebrows, but it worked surprisingly well. The big win? Speed. Sorting 535 people normally took ages—this wrapped in under an hour. Even grumbly Edward had to concede.
"But Captain. Handing the test to Sisilia over your vice-captain? Not ideal. For the order's future."
"When you're captain."
"……."
"Do as you like then."
In short: I'm captain now, so zip it.
Edward's brow twitched, but he held his tongue.
"……Phase 2's the Colosseum?"
Chiron and Edward sat in the Colosseum's VIP seats. Phase 1 passers filled the arena, faces brimming with confidence.
"Fear resistance test, maybe."
"Or duels."
"Either way, standard. Sensible choice."
Standard wasn't bad. Fear resistance was a Windsor staple—proven effective.
But…
'Sisilia never wears the same outfit twice.'
Chiron narrowed his eyes. The only thing she repeated was her daily white knee socks.
Would she really run the same old test? Amid anticipation and vague unease, Sisilia entered the Colosseum.
Gripping a 5-shilling wooden sword.
"...Lady Sisilia's personality?"
Beatrice, hollow-eyed from all-night Newbie Guidebook cramming, met old comrades for the first time in ages: Riha顿 and Dsen.
Strawberry juice in hand, she sweated bullets.
'Oh no, should've stayed home.'
After a day buried in books, fresh air tempted. And the pricey capital dessert? She bolted.
'Bribes...! If Lady Sisilia finds out, it's the axe for me.'
"Betty, please. I must pass this test."
"Can't wait another year for the family name. Gotta rack up merits."
Beatrice was soft-hearted.
"Honestly, no clue. She never spilled on this test."
After a pause, Beatrice checked for eavesdroppers and whispered:
"But... knowing Lady Sisilia, probably…"
…picks the ones who keep swinging till they drop dead—but don't.
"……."
Sisilia's image was set: Sword Princess Sisilia. A symbol of beauty in the capital. Every sword swing an art form. Born noble—grace in every gesture, every word.
Of course, that "adequate dungeon" proved she wasn't all sugar. Ruthless to demons.
Expected from Windsor's knight, right?
They listened intently to Beatrice, but deep down:
Pfft, no way it's that bad.
Riha顿 and Dsen would bitterly regret that complacency.
Bam! Bam—!
"Sh-She's gonna kill us all!"
"Impossible!"
"No Blessing and that power?!"
Sisilia stomped a burly mercenary, flailing her wooden sword like a maniac. His Blessing barrier cracked under the onslaught.
"Dsen. This…"
"Forget grazing her hem. Survival only."
It started like this:
Sisilia strolled in with just a wooden sword. Surveying the passers, she said breezily:
Survive: Pass. Die: Fail.
They figured exaggeration. Who executes applicants?
No Blessings from me.
Some laughed. High knights dominated via superior Blessings. No Blessing? Even Sisilia was just a girl.
…Or so they thought.
Kaboom—!
"Th-That's—"
"No Blessing?!"
Dust swirled massively. Sisilia, having shattered a mercenary's barrier, strode toward the huddled passers.
"This makes no sense!"
"How's she piercing barriers barehanded?!"
Sisilia dodged spells, parried swords—no matter the barrage. Parrying: smack at precise timing for stun and recoil.
But parrying demanded inhuman reflexes. Impossible for humans.
Sisilia did it like breathing.
In a word—
"She's not human."
Control godlike.
"Guhk!"
Sisilia plunged her wooden sword into Riha顿's solar plexus, the last man standing. He crumpled, gasping empty air.
"Hmm."
Sisilia paused mid-stride for her next target. But the Colosseum was empty.
"That's all they've got?"
This tested 'survival instinct.' Windsor's newbie survival rate: 30%. Lowering standards meant even less.
Sisilia wouldn't ship fresh recruits to the goddess so soon.
With kind intentions, Phase 2 criteria: response to overwhelming foes, plus unyielding spirit.
One or the other: pass.
But…
'Riha顿, Dsen, that burly merc. Only three passes?'
The big guy poured everything into defense upon sensing her freak strength. Smart.
Dsen and Riha顿 ditched offense for max defense. Smart too.
In real combat, they'd buy time for reinforcements.
The rest?
'Fail.'
Sisilia felt mild disappointment heading out.
Then—
"Don't underestimate me, you damn bitch."
A bloodied applicant clutched her slender ankle. Sisilia, cursed out of nowhere, just smiled.
She turned.
"Hngh, huff."
"Not over yet."
A few more stood. Mostly her passes, but not all.
Sisilia leveled her wooden sword.
"Pass."
Windsor's mass recruitment, led by Sisilia, concluded smoothly. Of 2,010 applicants, 30 passed.
True passes under her tests: under 10. But at Chiron's insistence on more numbers, she plucked extras from failures.
Some grumbles, but accepted. Train 'em later.
'They'll turn out great.'
Tests were strict, sure. But these cute newbies? She'd spoil them rotten.
But…
"Riha顿 and four others! You are hereby commissioned!"
Why only five passes…?
I swore we took thirty.
"Huh?"
Sisilia genuinely had no idea.