Dragon Tournament Team Battle (7)
Owen heard the crisp sound of his blade slicing through the flagpole, and it rang sweetly in his ears.
The dull feedback through his hands felt exhilarating.
Flutter!
As the flag tumbled to the ground, the onlookers erupted in cheers.
“Woooah!”
“Amazing! The prince's team won!”
Excited voices rose from all around.
Everyone was deeply impressed by the match.
“I never thought a team battle could be this fun!”
“It's on a whole different level from the individual bouts. Really entertaining to watch.”
“That young Leire fellow is something else. The East is vast, but there's no promising talent like him.”
The crowd clapped endlessly, sharing their thoughts with those nearby.
At that moment, Owen picked up the fallen flag and approached the spectators' area.
He intended to pay his respects to the Surpuk Duke.
It was custom for the one who captured the flag in a team battle to show courtesy to the highest-ranking person present.
The judges had already raised the flag signaling the prince's team's victory.
The people applauded as they welcomed Owen.
Riding Grenville with the flag in hand, he looked every bit the triumphant general.
The Surpuk Duke greeted him with a pleased expression.
“Splendid!”
“Your Grace! My deepest thanks!”
“I expect you to keep up the good work.”
Clearly delighted by this performance, the Surpuk Duke made a promise.
“Win the next match, and I'll grant you a new position.”
The offer surprised everyone listening.
They all knew a “new position” meant a promotion.
“Already? How long has it been since he became manager of a dragon stable at such a young age?”
“Wow... His Grace is really backing him. Is there something we don't know?”
“Of course! It's his skill. His Grace judges solely by merit.”
Even though they knew the duke's character well, they couldn't hide their astonishment.
“That boy's been the talk of Bris since he arrived.”
“If only I had a marriageable daughter... All I have are those dark-haired boys at home.”
“If you're that greedy, adopt one.”
As murmurs rippled through the crowd, Owen bowed his head in gratitude to the Surpuk Duke.
“Your gracious consideration leaves me at a loss! I shall devote myself fully to repay your boundless favor!”
Owen's archaic speech drew admiration from the nobles.
They preferred elaborate words mixed with difficult terms over the simple speech of the common market folk.
“The Leire family raises their children well.”
“Not just martial prowess, but refinement too. The more I see, the more I covet him.”
Having been a high noble in his past life, Owen possessed more refined etiquette than anyone in the East.
To the onlookers, it seemed exceedingly elegant.
After finishing his greetings, Owen returned to the site of the fierce battle.
Despite the intensity of the fight, everyone had dismounted their dragons and was shaking hands.
The dragons, knowing the match was over, lay on the grass basking in the sun or licking their wounds.
“Sir Leire! Hahaha!”
Leon burst into a hearty laugh and raised his hand to Owen.
His face said he'd come back from the brink of death.
Dento, who had led the attack alongside him, gripped Owen's hand repeatedly, expressing his thanks.
“Sir Leire, you saved us. We nearly committed grave disloyalty to His Highness.”
“No, it was thanks to everyone's efforts.”
Owen brushed off their gratitude lightly.
He wanted to talk to Finn, the leader of the 3rd Dragon Stable team, right away.
Owen was genuinely impressed by this man named Finn.
With an old dragon and poor equipment, he'd cornered the lavish prince's team.
'I knew a commoner stable manager wouldn't be ordinary... but I didn't expect this level.'
As Owen looked at Finn, the man was looking back at him.
Naturally, they approached each other and shook hands.
“Pleased to meet you, Sir Leire.”
Though they'd lost, there was no resentment in his voice.
“An impressive match, Mr. Finn.”
“As a noble, you should speak casually to me.”
“No. As fellow managers, I can't do that.”
Owen firmly refused to drop the formal tone.
Finn chuckled helplessly and let it go.
“I was thoroughly beaten. My respects to your skill, Sir Leire.”
“No. More importantly, I have a question. How did you know the black thorn-tail dragon on defense was in heat? It was strictly hidden... Did you hear about the incident at His Highness's villa?”
“Villa?”
Finn seemed completely unaware.
Owen could tell he wasn't lying.
If he'd known about the villa, Finn would have targeted Owen first.
He'd have realized Grenville's fire could chase the black thorn-tail dragon.
“No. Just guessing, but it's not something to spread...”
“Understood. I won't pry if it's troublesome. To answer your question, the black thorn-tail dragon's claws darken slightly during heat.”
“Really?”
It was knowledge even Owen didn't have.
“Yes, a recent discovery, just a few years old. I learned it from the handler when I volunteered to tend dragons at the eastern fortress.”
“Fortress?”
“Yes, the front line against the orcs. There's a female black thorn-tail there.”
“Ah... Was the heat-inducing dung powder from there too?”
“Exactly. You know your stuff. During the recent parade, I observed all the dragons closely. The black thorn-tail was the largest, so it stood out.”
Once he confirmed the heat, Finn contacted his connection at the eastern fortress and obtained female dung and shed skin.
“What if you hadn't drawn our team?”
“Eh, I could've sold it dearly to somewhere facing the prince's team.”
“Haha...”
Truly no ordinary man.
Owen's interest in Finn grew.
So talented, yet stuck as a perennial manager—likely blocked by status barriers.
Owen thought he might recruit Finn himself someday.
“Thank you for answering.”
“No problem, Sir Leire. Good luck in the remaining matches.”
“How about a drink sometime, as fellow managers?”
“No reason to refuse.”
Despite the loss, he remained polite and composed.
Owen felt the biggest gain from today's match wasn't cutting the flagpole, but meeting Finn.
After the match, the prince's team held a celebratory banquet at the Surpuk Duke's court.
The prince praised Owen effusively, and Leon, Dento, and Huey offered sincere apologies.
“Sorry. We were blinded by arrogance and made fools of ourselves.”
“Same here. I'm too ashamed to show my face.”
Then, Leon, the prince's team leader, made a bold proposal.
“For the next match, Sir Leire, you take command. What do you say?”
“No, how can you suggest that?”
Owen waved his hands in fluster.
No matter his recent fame, to them he was still a young country knight.
Handing over command like this showed extraordinary magnanimity.
“It's only logical for the capable one to lead.”
“Sir Leon, I can't accept that. It was just luck.”
As Owen refused again, the prince interjected from the side.
“That's excessive humility. Sir Leon isn't proposing based solely on this match.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. We've heard while here—your adventures these past months. Attacking the bandit knight's fortress, dueling Russell's son, ousting corrupt officials, winning the bet against the 2nd Dragon Stable...”
All true, but hearing it from others made Owen feel embarrassed.
As his cheeks flushed slightly, the prince laughed heartily.
“Now you look like a boy! Hahaha.”
Laughter exploded around them.
Glancing aside, Alania was resting her chin on her hand, smiling sweetly at Owen.
Her smile was fresh as sunlight.
“Today, you pulled my team from the mire with an extraordinary victory.”
The prince downed a drink and continued.
“Knowing all this, I'm betting on your talent. Don't sell yourself short as just lucky—that'd make Sir Leon a fool.”
“My apologies.”
“Haha, no need. Well? Will you accept?”
With words like that, refusal was impossible.
Besides, Owen harbored ambitions for command.
“Understood. I'll do my best.”
“Good man. Looking forward to the next one!”
Thus, Owen was appointed the new leader of the prince's team.
The prince was in high spirits and awarded bonuses to all, including Owen.
Thirty gold coins each.
For Owen especially, a bonus made it sixty.
Equivalent to two years' wages for a skilled wool spinner.
“Thank you, Your Highness!”
“Heh, prefers gold over my praise.”
The merry drinking session ended soon after.
They had the next match to prepare for.
Outside, the sun had already set.
“After the tournament, let's have a proper feast. To victory!”
After a grand toast and dispersing, the prince summoned Alania.
“Escort Sir Leire to the city gates.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Owen said it was too much trouble, but Alania had already grabbed his arm.
“Come on. On the way, let's check the match results and bet payouts.”
“Ah, good idea.”
This team battle's bets were overseen by the Surpuk Duke.
Payouts at 80%, the rest 20% to the duke's pocket.
Quite a tidy profit.
In truth, hosting dragon tournaments for profit was a long tradition among eastern lords.
The duke held this team battle to make money.
Those with foresight knew why he urgently needed funds.
Storms brewed on the eastern plains.
“To city hall!”
Outside, night had fallen.
Bris streets teemed with people, citizens out for the festival.
“Wow! So pretty!”
Alania exclaimed at the city center ablaze with lights.
She also laughed at people in masks, an eastern festival custom.
“Kyahaha! Pig mask! That's a fish!”
“Must be novel. They don't do this in the capital...”
“Yeah. Shall we get some?”
Alania bought festival masks from a stall on the spot and handed one over.
“Here, dragon mask.”
“Your butterfly mask suits you well, Sir Ventra.”
“Ho ho, flattery.”
Bet payouts were managed at city hall.
They could also check that day's match results—worth a visit.
At city hall, masked crowds swarmed.
Several looked like dragon knights.
Owen first checked the posted team battle notices.
“Hm...”
As expected, next opponent: 'Elenies'.
The team led by Russell's Austin, desperate to crush Owen.
But Owen paid Elenies no mind.
What caught his eye was the 1st Dragon Stable team.
'What a man. Count Bernart.'
Leader of the 1st Dragon Stable and commander of the eastern dragon knights.
Owen itched to face Count Bernart soon.
Suddenly, Alania tugged his clothes.
“Sir Leire.”
“Yes?”
“Shh! Quietly look where I'm pointing.”
Unsure what was up, but her voice was gravely serious.
Owen complied, puzzled.
Turning slightly toward her pointed direction, he saw a woman in a mask reading the notices.
Robed, but her feminine curves made her gender obvious.
Sleek jawline and red lips suggested stunning beauty, though much was masked.