The Sacred Gauntlet Toss
Throwing down the gauntlet—for knights, it was nothing less than a sacred rite. Like how duelists, decks at the ready, would clash the moment they crossed paths. Or how knights would lock eyes on the roadside and immediately challenge each other to a bout. In the world of knightly duels, the gauntlet toss was that profound a ritual.
Your honor besmirched by another? Hurl your gauntlet at their feet to demand satisfaction. They pick it up? Duel accepted. That's a knight's duel for you.
What the fuck. They really do everything under the sun.
But why the hell do I have to pull this shit on a goblin?
The Knightly Stars are watching you.
I couldn't help but grimace at the alert window floating in front of me.
Why the hell is this triggering now?
I could've just chucked the necklace at that hobgoblin and called it a day. Easy peasy.
But no, these crazy bastards made me do that in the middle of it all.
Fuck. Do I seriously have to play knightly honor now just to kill some goblins? It's a monster extermination, isn't it? Can't I just ambush the fuckers?
Those are your Knightly Stars? The kind that say juniors can't take the easy road? How the hell do they call themselves knights? They're just dopamine junkies.
Fuck. These pricks have been screwing with me ever since that Dreamland ticket.
The goblins were looking at me like I was a total idiot. And yeah, right now, I was.
Dogshit luck.
Don Quixote at least thought windmills were giants before charging. Me? I know it's a goblin and I'm still treating it like a knight. Guess that makes me slightly less of a moron?
Look at that.
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The gauge was filling up. The Knightly Stars must've decided this was the kind of moronic knightly bullshit they approve of.
The hobgoblin—curiosity or whatever—stared blankly at the gauntlet that'd smacked into it and fallen off. Then...
Gurgle.
It picked up the gauntlet.
In knightly duels, grabbing the fallen gauntlet means accepting the challenge fair and square.
"Declare the duel begun, Dorothy!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
Donnesia raised her voice in pitch.
"Old man, are you out of your mind?!"
"Don't worry. I'm clearer-headed than ever."
True story.
"You're insane. Seriously. Who the fuck challenges a goblin to a duel?!"
Right here, that lunatic.
The goblins started shambling toward us, slow and steady.
Donnesia gulped hard. This girl probably wouldn't die unless things got real bad—what was she so worried about?
"Relax, kiddo. You're not dying on my watch."
"They're glaring at us like that."
You're stronger than me right now, anyway.
"Don't sweat it. I won't let you die."
If you die, we're really fucked.
Like, properly fucked.
I gripped my sword and assumed position, ready to handle any charging goblins.
And just as I was about to step forward...
"R-Really...? You can do that?"
Donnesia asked in a trembling voice. It halted my stride for a second.
I had no idea what she was so anxious about—with her here.
But I got it. Kinda.
Everything made her uneasy, and she couldn't trust anyone. That wasn't weird for her.
She'd plummeted from noble heights to the gutters at a young age. Even in a game, meeting her seven times across seven lives let me understand that much.
Tch. If she's that worried, maybe I should swear an oath or something.
"Yeah."
I swung my sword down to reset my stance.
"It's fine. As long as I'm here, you won't die. Worst case, I'll put it in knightly writ."
Crusty old words, but hey—today might be the day for it. The day I decided to go full crazy knight.
Felt right. If it eased her trembling even a little.
I advanced step by step.
"...Tin-can old man."
I thought I heard a mutter, but it brushed past without sticking.
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Gauge climbing. Guess the voyeurs approved of me soothing the scared kid. Knightly virtue or whatever.
Anyway, sword up, keep walking.
Keeeeek—!
That was the signal. Goblins charged.
First: Logres Swordsmanship, Upright Slash. Diagonal upward slice bisects one. One down.
Next, two rushed with crude daggers.
Riding the upward slash momentum, full spin, fist clenched—smash one head clean off.
Crunch—!
Two.
Punch pulverizes something, then downward slash cleaves the last. Three.
In that instant, three dead.
The goblins hesitated, seeing kin slain. The hobgoblin hadn't budged. Unlike dumbass goblins who only charge, this one had brains. Probably waiting for me to tire.
But the real problem was...
The asshole chanting from behind. Mana gathered in the cave, glowing brighter. Transparent something forming in the goblin's hand.
Magic Missile, the staple. The one 1-circle mages learn. Only attack spell a level 10 goblin shaman can cast.
Magic resistance ties to mental stats, so even a direct hit from a level 10 wouldn't hurt much.
But pain's pain. No need to tank it like a chump.
I'm already doing enough dumb shit.
So how to dodge...? Already sent two more to their pals, eyed the goblin prepping to fire.
Dumb goblins didn't know flanking. Minions charged brainlessly to wear me down. Shaman telegraphed its spell. Hob waited without guarding.
And me? Standing still, doing jack.
Feast of fools?
Donnesia's frustrated grunts reached me.
Couldn't chuck a goblin to disrupt the cast—crazy upstairs wouldn't like that.
Time for knightly flair, then.
Can't use aura yet, so no slicing 1-circle spells.
But magic isn't intangible. Magic Missile's condensed mana—physical enough to smack with a sword.
So.
I circulated mana. No sword aura, but body enhancement? Easy.
Orlando-style Muscle Training Method and Logres Mana Training—pump mana into arms for reinforcement.
Instead of matching its timing, I delayed a beat and hurled my sword.
Like gunslingers in the wastes.
Onrushing sword meets Magic Missile.
Claaaang—!
Collision—my sword cracked.
But.
It pierced right through, slamming into the goblin's forehead.
——KABOOOOOM!!!!!
Earth-shaking roar, dust cloud erupting around it.
Dust settled: shaman headless below the sword embedded in the wall.
Minions and shaman down—experience dumped in, two levels up. Nice.
And.
Kikik.
Hobgoblin moved like it'd been waiting, smug face as it raised its wooden club.
Figured I'd be worn out now? Or weaponless?
It sneered and charged, full swing.
But my effective level? 24. No way a level 10 swing tags me.
Duck under, counter with a straight punch to its gut.
Quuuueeeek—!!!
Pig-squeal as it flew.
——KABOOOOOM!!
Hob smashed into the wall and croaked.
And.
Satisfied with the circus? Gauge maxed, reward incoming.
Probably in inventory—check later. First, reward for Donnesia.
"Old man, you're insanely strong...?"
She approached, jaw slack.
True, no strategy needed. Problem was the easier way existed, but fuck it.
I yanked the sword from the wall. Cracked to hell, durability bottomed out.
Back at the ducal estate, time to beg for repairs.
Sheathed it, eyed the floor where two goblins stood.
In-game, just hit the 'interact' button...
Ah, there.
Odd protruding brick. Pressed it—floor split, spring bubbled up.
Why the dungeon's called Goblin-Occupied Spring. Hidden piece: the spring.
"A pond here?"
Donnesia approached, amazed.
"This is what I was talking about."
"The thing you said you'd give me? But... it looks like a normal pond."
She eyed me dubiously.
Of course. No trigger, just a puddle.
But the key? She had it.
No long talk.
"Call it out. You'll see."
"It? What're you—"
Eyes darting, avoiding my gaze.
"You know. That thing you have. The one that's not yours."
"How do you know about that...?"
Stunned stare.
"Good eyes."
Can't say the truth, so bullshit.
'Cause I've controlled you enough to know.' Yeah, no.
"Gotta claim the reward to leave anyway. So call it."
Lie. Could bail without.
But she needs this. Speeds her growth.
For my future ally, she had to get it and join House Logres.
She sighed at my words.
"Only 'cause it's you."
Trembling voice, then—
Something burst from her shadow.
A pumpkin. Jack-o'-lantern face with carved mouth and eyes. Eerie flame inside.
Black roots for body below, one arm a massive scythe.
Her dad's insurance before he went mad. Later, one of her top guardians.
"My looooord."
Spirit, but wisdom-eaten, shadow-bound scarecrow.
Sanco. That was its name.
# One standout trait for romance-fantasy heroines: the special item they've had since birth, like a spoon if they're a duke's or princess's daughter.
But abilities define roles too. Heroines are saints, spirit mages, or wizards mostly. Minors include knight girls.
Donnesia? Spirit mage.
Summons beasts/spirits for combat, cheers from behind.
Usually cute summons, but our mistreated girl? Hers fit her: dark fantasy material without the pumpkin head.
She's a spirit mage with this spirit, but not really. Needs special stat: Spirit Affinity.
Hasn't awakened it yet.
Can get it via academy event like other heroines, but this spot's faster for her exclusive superior stat.
Spirit Affinity's top-tier for spirit mages—even side characters' Spirit Power's inferior. Better than pumping my four base stats. Hence, grab early.
"I see it."
Resonating with Sanco, something showed for her.
In-game: summon Sanco, alert for her exclusive stat. Yes/no.
Here: Sanco dove back into shadow. She approached spring—water droplets swarmed, welcoming her.
I sat to wait out her awakening, opened inventory.
"...Why?"
She stared at me, not going.
Again?
"It's fine, that thing..."
"I know it's safe better than you."
She cut me off, shaking head.
"Then why."
"You won't leave, right old man?"
"Outta nowhere."
"Usually, folks nap till the ritual ends."
She stared piercingly. Won't budge till I answered.
No clue why now, but her pleading face yanked words out.
"Not going."
Hell, don't even know how to leave Dreamland.
"I'll sit here waiting. Take your time."
She turned back.
"I believe you."
Then that.
Believe what?
"What."
"I believe you, old man. 'Cause you're..."
Bubbles enveloped her.
"...a lunatic with knight fever."
With that, she vanished.
Fuck.
Guess I butchered my image proper.