Chapter 68
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Deokgu
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Deokgu
‘Hmm…’
Baron Pulpuchu swallowed a groan as he looked at the man standing before him.
‘A knight bearing the Imperial Seal. But he’s not here on official duty. This is tricky.’
For a knight, the man had eyes as murky as storm clouds and reeked of perfume and powder.
‘Was raising the prize money a mistake?’
The initial plan was 20 gold, but after a discussion concluded that such an amount would only attract a limited pool of talent and would be difficult to retain them with, they had raised it to 40 gold.
The plan was to pay 20 gold immediately upon victory, with the remaining 20 gold paid out in installments of 5 gold a month to keep the winner around…
‘And this is the result. Still, 40 gold shouldn’t be enough to move an Imperial Knight, should it?’
Baron Pulpuchu frowned, looking at Adela, who wasn’t bothering to hide her displeasure. With her two companions gone, she was the only one left, and her leash seemed to have loosened.
“I am ‘The Lecher’ Kurteun.”
The man’s expression was brazen as he uttered his own moniker. He was an inscrutable fellow.
‘How tiresome.’
A wave of fatigue washed over him at the realization that this was not some simple, brutish knight.
“I am Baron Pulpuchu, Lord of Casedic.”
Baron Pulpuchu was not foolish enough to let his feelings show. He simply maintained his usual bored expression.
“What brings the Imperial Knights to such a remote borderland?”
“Hmm…”
The man neither confirmed nor denied his affiliation with the Imperial Knights and continued speaking.
“I heard the Flower of the East was here. My hobby is flower arrangement, you see.”
Pulpuchu’s expression nearly cracked at the man’s lewd provocation. The way he even stuck out his tongue made him look less like a knight and more like some common ruffian.
“I’m sorry, but that flower is already spoken for.”
Pulpuchu felt a small sense of relief that he had not yet officially broken off the engagement with House Pener.
“Ah, that’s quite all right. I only intend to look and enjoy the fragrance.”
The man finished his words with a slight flick of his tongue.
‘He’s crossed the line.’
Pulpuchu’s brow furrowed as he spoke.
“Are you harassing a maiden who is betrothed to another?”
“Oh, I thought we were talking about flowers. So the flower was a maiden. The two are so similar, I often get them confused.”
The man chuckled playfully and took a slight step back. Baron Pulpuchu suppressed his boiling anger as he stared at the shameless bastard.
‘Do I have the power to punish him?’
He glanced at Adela, his only remaining knight. There was no way Adela could defeat a man bearing the Imperial Seal.
‘It would be shameless of me to expect that of her.’
It was the other party who was setting the terms now.
Pulpuchu retreated while he still had the chance.
Standing his ground would only give the man a pretext.
“A misunderstanding, then. But be careful, as the ‘Flower of the East’ refers to my daughter.”
“Haha! The Flower of the East, you say? I am very much looking forward to it. How beautiful she must be—and how fragrant—.”
The man, gauging the reaction, pushed forward again.
This time, a little deeper.
‘It feels like I’m dealing with a shady nobleman, not a knight.’
The man wasn’t simply using brute force; he was circling like a snake, prodding and poking.
But Baron Pulpuchu was a nobleman himself.
“Ah, what a shame. The child is in the middle of her ‘Virgin’s Prayer’.”
His utmost priority in opening the tournament had been Vivian’s safety. Whenever men gathered, the conversation inevitably turned to beautiful women, and Vivian was a beauty no one could deny.
Pulpuchu knew that knights were, at heart, just mercenaries feigning dignity… no, they were worse than that, and he had prepared accordingly.
The ‘Virgin’s Prayer’ was his solution.
A tradition where a maiden preparing for marriage would not leave her room and would avoid all contact with men, dedicating herself to prayer.
It was an old custom few remembered, but it was still a rite of the Church. To insist on meeting Vivian after hearing of it would mean making an enemy of both Pulpuchu and the Church.
No matter if he bore the Imperial Seal, that would surely be a burden if he wasn’t here on official business.
“The Virgin’s Prayer… It has such a fragrant aroma. And a thrilling sense of depravity.”
The man still expressed his blatant lust, but he seemed to be backing down slightly.
Even so, he flicked his tongue out like a snake and made a vulgar gesture with his fingers. It was a low-level provocation.
Pulpuchu could have easily laughed it off.
However, the trouble came from his side.
“Insolent cur! How dare you harass the young lady! Have you no honor as a knight?!”
‘Dammit, Adela!’
Pulpuchu whipped his head around at the shout. He wanted to slap Adela to her senses, but…
Adela’s gauntlet was already striking the man’s breastplate.
“A duel! You despicable worm! I will teach you what it means to be a knight!”
“…Hoh.”
A clear smile spread across the man’s face. At the sight of his lips curling up like a predator that had just caught its prey by the scruff of its neck, Pulpuchu bit his lip hard.
The man had seized his prey: a justification.
‘It’s irreversible.’
Only then did Pulpuchu realize that the man’s target hadn’t been him, but the foolish and dull-witted Adela.
‘She must have been showing her dislike from the moment he walked in.’
Thinking he had her on a leash had been a painful mistake. He had forgotten that knights were powerful beasts that sometimes snapped their leashes and did as they pleased.
*Clang—!*
Adela pointed her sword at the man.
“This flower isn’t bad either, but I’m not fond of the smell of sweat.”
The man drew a pointed sword and a flat one.
The situation had already unfolded.
‘Can she win?’
Pulpuchu knew that in a duel, there were relative strengths, but no absolute victor. A hundred bouts could yield a hundred different results.
Pulpuchu narrowed his eyes as he watched the two clash swords.
However, the result did not take long to emerge.
“Kugh…”
Adela was on her knees, clutching her shoulder from which blood was pouring.
Pulpuchu hadn't even been able to follow how it had happened.
There was a flash of light accompanied by a sharp sound, and suddenly Adela was in that state. The man was now toying with her, poking at her vitals with his pointed blade.
‘If you’re going to step forward so confidently, at least put up a fight.’
He wanted to have Adela beheaded on the spot, but regrettably, she was Casedic’s only knight.
“That’s enough.”
Baron Pulpuchu said, rising from his seat.
“You may not be aware, my Lord Baron, but in a duel between knights, the loser becomes the victor’s prisoner.”
“I am aware.”
“Then?”
“What is it you want?”
The man, who had been prodding Adela’s chest, smiled brightly.
“I heard the tournament’s grand prize is 40 gold. However, gold holds little meaning for me…”
*Screeech—*
The man’s sword scraped against Adela’s armor, filling the air with a grating sound.
“I would like to change the prize, just for myself. To a tasting, perhaps. Or a sampling.”
Pulpuchu could no longer hide his expression as he looked at the man smiling brightly while aiming his blade at Adela’s neck.
He had no choice.
Having gotten the answer he wanted, the man left a red mark on Adela’s neck before turning away.
Knight Adela, blood still streaming from her shoulder, slammed her head on the ground with a loud *thud!*
‘Foolish, dim-witted…’
A string of curses rose to Pulpuchu’s lips, but what was done was done. Getting angry now would only be self-destructive.
His head throbbed. He pressed his temples and considered his options. The immediate problem could be solved if that man didn’t win the tournament, but…
‘Is there any way to stop him?’
*Thud! Thud!*
He glanced at Adela, who continued to bash her head on the ground, drawing blood from her forehead, and shook his head.
She was currently the best card he held.
Expanding his thoughts…
‘Was his name Aron?’
The man who had single-handedly and effortlessly dealt with the skeleton that had neutralized the Inner Wall Guard. The man’s true strength was an unknown quantity.
Of course, it was unlikely he was strong enough to defeat an Imperial Knight, but…
Among the cards he currently held, he was the only one whose value was unknown.
‘…Or perhaps another strong contender will join.’
Pulpuchu rose from his seat and walked to a table.
Even in the most optimistic scenario, 40 gold was not enough to move a warrior of an Imperial Knight’s caliber.
His head pounded, making it difficult to think.
To soothe his headache, Pulpuchu looked for the pain-relieving candle he had acquired at a considerable price.
‘Where did the candlestick go?’
Pulpuchu frowned at the candle rolling on the table.
But the need was urgent, so he simply picked up the candle with his hand and lit it.
As his headache subsided and his thoughts began to flow again, there was no room in his mind for a candlestick.
***
The tournament’s atmosphere was incredibly heated.
Not only had the number of visitors increased, but since the Lord had emphasized that anyone could participate, quite a few guards had entered as well.
‘40 gold is worth a shot.’
The knights gathered so far, aside from that one obnoxious bastard, weren’t particularly impressive.
Plus, with aura use forbidden in this tournament, it was a perfectly winnable fight.
It would be rude to ignore a pouch of 40 gold with my name on it lying on the ground.
With that, I gathered the wagon drivers in one place to acquire some armor.
The Lord had permitted participation, so I could have just entered as I was, but I needed to be careful to avoid any potential annoyances.
“Wh-what is it, Aron!”
The loudest of the huddled wagon drivers stood up and asked. They were clustered together as if I were about to eat them.
“Nothing much. Anyone with armor, raise your hand.”
I scratched my head and raised my right hand.
A few of the wagon drivers glanced around before timidly raising their hands.
After sending the rest away, I looked through the armor in their carts and chose one I liked.
“This transaction is a secret.”
I said it like a threat while paying a little extra, and the fellow who sold me the armor nodded with an expression that was a mix of crying and smiling.
‘Black armor, huh…’
The full set of black armor I bought from him didn't seem half bad, so I nodded in satisfaction.
It was thinner than my current armor and not as good, but for something acquired on short notice, it wasn’t bad.
“Ah, I bought a whole set, isn’t there a freebie? How stingy.”
The man, who had been inching away, froze at my muttering.
“W-well, now that you mention it, you’re missing a right pauldron, aren’t you? There’s no part more important than a pauldron. Come to think of it, I have one left over from a previous sale…”
As a special courtesy for the Special Guard, I received a handsome blue pauldron as a service. Judging by the grime, it seemed to be the only piece of stolen goods that hadn't sold.
When I tapped it, the sound of steel was solid and heavy. It was a fine pauldron.
A rough estimate showed I had still paid a bit over the odds, even including the pauldron.
‘Well, I do have 40 gold coming my way.’
Since I was about to be rich, I tossed the man another gold coin. He smiled, and I smiled. It was an excellent transaction.
I attached the pauldron to my right shoulder, took the armor to my room, and then joined Kel, who was on patrol.
“…You actually went and got a blue one?! Where in the world do you find these hideous things…”
Kel was horrified when he saw my new pauldron.
“You ignorant brute, you have no sense of romance.”
Kel muttered something under his breath as if he had a lot more to say, but a shake of my fist made him swallow his words.
With the influx of visitors for the tournament, our workload had increased significantly. They had even assigned two squads from the Inner Wall Guard to us.
Of course, being busier made patrols more interesting.
Men with swords, once they had a drink, would always cause trouble, day or night.
Drunkards with swords at their sides swaggered around as if they’d already won the tournament. Of course, among them were some genuinely skilled individuals who made a nuisance of themselves, making things tricky.
Like that guy over there.
“Puhahaha! Iron Fist! Kentura! Victorious! Invincible! Fist!”
The man was spouting nonsense and swinging his fists wildly, but he seemed quite skilled, judging by the number of men lying groaning around him.
‘What a fucking way to talk.’
The man’s speech pattern was so unique it overshadowed all his other features.
“L-Leader.”
There was Brick, rolling on the ground with a bruised face, and the Weasel, pretending to be unconscious as he tumbled behind the man.
Besides those two, several others were down.
“What a goddamn mess.”
I clicked my tongue and approached the man. He shouted something in a slurred voice and threw a punch. My fist was faster.
However, perhaps due to his large frame, one punch wasn't enough to take him down. I had to swing a few more times.
“Ack…”
The man collapsed to the ground with a thud.
Just then, the Weasel, who had been behind him, sprang up, slammed a fist into the back of the already fallen man’s head, and let out a satisfied laugh.
‘Speech patterns…’
Any unique characteristic was highly effective at hiding one’s true self.
I nodded as I took the man’s fat purse from the Weasel.
***
Bastard Squared… no, Jace of the Inner Wall Guard, scowled and scratched his head.
‘Dammit, why am I the only one who can read?’
Because he was the only one among the Inner Wall Guard and the soldiers who was literate, Jace had been tasked with tournament registration.
At first, he thought it was a cushy job, but it turned out to be the most grueling work imaginable.
It was incredibly rare to find a swordsman who wasn't an ignoramus. It was even rarer to find one who could write his own name.
Jace wrote their names down phonetically, but the men, perhaps out of some inferiority complex, kept insisting he was wrong. If he told them to write it themselves, they couldn’t, yet they would stubbornly argue that his spelling was incorrect.
And if he ignored them, these bastards would just draw their swords, so he had to coax and placate them.
He now understood why the people from the lord’s castle had pawned this job off on him.
Whenever he took a short break, his colleagues from the Inner Wall Guard would come by and hassle him for slacking off. Jace was getting it from all sides.
After a long argument with a man with a thick accent, he wrote down ‘Kamsar’ for a man named ‘Samsar’.
He was trying to calm his frayed nerves when a huge man in black armor approached.
The black armor was sleek and rather stylish, but he wore a ridiculous bucket-like helmet that didn't match at all, making him look absurd.
That hideous sense of style reminded him of someone.
Seeing the massive build and swaggering walk, Jace naturally knew who it was.
‘Aron? Why the disguise? Or is it even a disguise?’
He didn’t know what kind of creative trouble the brute was planning to stir up this time, but he wanted no part in it.
Jace pretended not to recognize him and spoke.
“Name for the tournament.”
“Kuhh… Dark… Kuhh… Vader.”
‘What is with this guy?’
He could overlook everything else, but he simply could not understand why the man was inserting bizarre breathing sounds. Worse, since he was wearing a huge bucket on his head, the breathing echoed, which sounded incredibly strange.
Jace wanted to be done with him even more now.
“Right, Dark Kuh Vader.”
Jace said without looking up.
“No, it’s Dark Vader. Kuhh…”
Jace forced his eyes to stay on the paper and moved his pen. He wanted to get rid of this weirdo as quickly as possible.
“The spelling is wrong. It’s not that, it’s this. Kuhh…”
The man, realizing his mistake, quickly added the breathing sound at the end.
“Com—No, what do you know, you punk. This is correct.”
The thought of being corrected by a commoner made Jace snap.
“No, written like that, it becomes Deokgu Beida, not Dark Vader. Kuhh…”
“Shut up. This is correct.”
Jace flinched for a moment when he saw the man’s hands trembling, but he quickly composed his expression.
“You seem to be an outsider. If you hit me here, you’ll be arrested by the guards on the spot.”
“Dark Vader does not use violence recklessly.”
Kuhh…
Jace suppressed a laugh at the man’s hasty addition of the breathing sound and waved his hand.
“Registration is complete. Get lost.”
The man’s fist twitched for a moment before he walked away. Jace let out a small sigh of relief and smirked.
“Hahaha!”
Jace laughed out loud at the thought of having one-upped that ignorant, barbaric commoner brute.
Following that, more people came to register, and Jace, having developed a knack for it, processed them smoothly.
Then, a great commotion arose as a beauty, clad in just enough to cover her vitals, appeared. The woman glared at the surrounding men with a face full of humiliation and came to the front of the line.
Jace did his best to avoid looking at her prominent cleavage as he took her application.
“Kurteun. A knight.”
The woman spoke briefly and then left as if fleeing.
‘A squire, I see. The knight must have a twisted sense of humor.’
After writing it down, Jace subtly raised his head to steal a glance at the woman’s retreating back.
Just then, an even greater commotion erupted.
“What the? Hey, get in li—Ack!!”
“Aaargh!”
‘What’s going on?’
When Jace turned his head, all he saw was a massive fist.
*WHAM!*
With a sound like a hammer strike, Jace was knocked backward. As his vision, which had gone dark, cleared, he saw the commoner brute standing over him.
“…Why?!”
“There was a bug on your forehead.”
The man said shamelessly, then let out a small ‘kuhh…’ before closing his mouth.
‘This crazy bastard!’
Jace was boiling with rage, but he forced himself to act unfazed and sat back down.
“This spelling is wrong. Written like this, it’s Deokgu Beida. You stupid bastard squared.”
The man then took the pen, scribbled furiously, corrected the spelling, and walked away.
Once he confirmed the man was gone, Jace promptly crossed out the correction.
‘Stupid commoner. This is correct.’
Jace clicked his tongue at the man's ignorance and wrote ‘Deokgu Beida’ in bold letters.
***
The day before the tournament began, while I was overseeing the gate check with Berman and Kel, three men in silver armor approached.
Thick plate armor, moderately large builds, maces at their waists, and various other menacing weapons. And the insignia engraved on their armor.
‘Inquisitors?’
In the past, I would have avoided them, but having grown accustomed to that good-for-nothing Inquisitor, I simply nodded and welcomed them.
Berman and Kel had fled to a safe distance.
The others waiting for inspection also scattered.
“May the sun shine upon you.”
A rather handsome, blue-haired man gave a slight bow in greeting. He seemed pleased that I didn’t avoid him.
“May the sun shine upon you. I am Honorary Monk Aron.”
“Ah, I see. I am Inquisitor Parhan.”
The man nodded and introduced his companions.
I didn’t bother to listen closely.
“We came in response to Abbot Brighton’s request for support. We happened to be investigating the ‘Black Blood’ in the north, so we were able to arrive quickly.”
I listened while sizing up the man who introduced himself as Parhan.
In addition to a mace, he carried a massive hammer on his back. It seemed Inquisitors, who had to face demons, preferred heavy, powerful weapons.
His overall physical balance was good, and his movements were full of power. He looked quite capable. However, given his weapon was a hammer, he was likely weak in one-on-one combat.
As we walked together, I measured their gaits and arm lengths, gauging a fight in my head. It was an unavoidable habit, even for an honorary monk.
They were quite sociable. Compared to ordinary people, they were quiet, but compared to the good-for-nothing Inquisitor who barely opened her mouth, they were practically chatterboxes.
‘A party of Inquisitors…’
A larger force than expected had arrived. If the enemy was a demon, they would undoubtedly be a great help.
“Ah, I’ll guide you to the chapter house.”
I smiled and gestured inside.
At that, the men looked visibly surprised and their hands dropped to their waists.
“Aren’t you on duty?”
Parhan asked, forcing his expression to relax.
“Guiding visitors is also part of my duties. It’s fine.”
From a distance, Berman and Kel nodded. With the recent increase in visitors, the gate personnel had been reinforced, so it didn’t matter if I stepped away. The other two would just have to work a little harder.
“Meeting the Inquisitors, the Hammers of the Church, fills me with faith.”
Just in case, I offered them some appropriate flattery as we headed to the chapter house.
But they were no praise-vending machines; they just spouted lines that sounded like they came from scripture.
Upon entering the chapter house, the monks who saw the Inquisitor party suddenly became busy, bustling about as if something urgent had come up, studiously avoiding looking our way.
The Inquisitors behind me seemed accustomed to this reaction, their expressions unchanging.
After a moment of consideration, I decided to guide them to their rooms since I was already here and headed deeper inside.
I followed my memory towards the Abbot’s room.
When I finally opened the Abbot’s door, the person sitting at the desk was not the stern Abbot.
‘What is she doing here?’
The good-for-nothing Inquisitor I always ran from was sitting at the Abbot’s desk, helping herself to cake. Unlike her usual emotionless face, the corners of her mouth were turned up in a slight smile, as if she were thoroughly enjoying her leisure time.
‘Of all the times to be here…’
Given what happened last time, I hastily tried to backpedal and close the door. But Parhan had already followed me in.
As I contemplated whether to just shove them out, seeing the hardened faces of the Inquisitors, the one eating cake looked up.
The Inquisitor met my eyes, gave a small nod, then frowned upon seeing the men behind me.
After a brief silence…
““HAM-MER!!””
The Inquisitors behind me snapped into a sharp salute.
Their voices were so thunderous and their salutes so crisp, it was a reaction befitting a meeting with the Chief of Staff.
I turned to look back at the good-for-nothing Inquisitor.
She looked at them with a face full of annoyance, clicked her tongue with a ‘Tsk…’, and leaned back arrogantly.
I was slightly horrified at the sight of her receiving the salute with a mere flick of her index finger.
‘…The good-for-nothing was a veteran?’
I had no idea how the Church’s hierarchy worked.
As I watched the men report with booming voices, I quietly excused myself.
As I closed the door, the good-for-nothing Inquisitor had both her legs crossed up on the desk.
And the party of Inquisitors was trembling before her.
‘What in the world is the Church…’
I closed the door and shook my head.
***
Baron Pulpuchu sat down in a chair he had checked several times and let out a sigh.
“Among the newly arrived knights, is there anyone who can defeat him?”
Pulpuchu asked, looking at Nova.
“No, my lord. Of course, there are always variables, but in a simple comparison, there are no knights capable of defeating someone from the Imperial Knights.”
Adela flinched visibly at Nova’s answer.
They had tried to come up with countermeasures, but the tournament had begun with no results.
There was still time left to register, but it was unlikely anyone useful would appear. 40 gold was not enough to summon a warrior of an Imperial Knight’s caliber.
‘The initial objective has been achieved, but a much larger problem has arisen.’
A knight of that level guaranteed the safety of Casedic Castle, but the man was a disquieting double-edged sword.
“I heard House Pener is sending a knight! You have something to look forward to! Haha!”
Gerel, oblivious to the situation, chattered loudly, spittle flying.
Pulpuchu glared at him with displeasure for a moment before gesturing to Nova. Nova gave a small nod.
If it came down to it, he was prepared to use poison. But then the cleanup would be a problem… His thoughts grew increasingly complex.
Finally, the first duel began.
The preliminary rounds were arranged so that knights would not face each other, keeping them as far apart as possible.
A series of duels between men who had merely donned some iron to imitate knights followed. Pulpuchu found their battles more interesting than the unseen duels between actual knights.
In the middle of it, a maid brought him an iced beer. It was so delicious and refreshing that he asked where it came from. The answer he received made Pulpuchu let out a low groan.
‘The Smiling Aron Rabbit Tavern… That name seems to come up often.’
Aron’s name was not on the list; he must not have registered yet. He was the least likely card to succeed, but Pulpuchu held high hopes for him, which made him anxious.
‘There’s still time left.’
As he tried to soothe himself while watching the matches, a knight’s turn came.
“That is Sir Dombalt. He claims to be a freelance knight, but it seems he hasn’t been hired anywhere after his skills deteriorated with age.”
Pulpuchu nodded at Nova’s explanation.
He looked like a garbage knight at a glance. Imperial law limited the number of knights each lord could retain, so no foolish house would hire a washed-up, garbage knight.
Of course, in Pulpuchu’s current situation, even he was a welcome sight.
‘Pity his opponent, having to face a knight…’
Pulpuchu muttered under his breath. Even a has-been was still a knight. The difference between someone formally trained with the sword and someone who wasn’t was clear. There was no way a non-knight could win.
Since a knight was up, his opponent was surely just fodder for the spectacle.
“And his opponeeeeent!!! Hailing from the depths of hell! Deokgu Beida!!!”
Someone entered from the opposite side. Heavy black armor and a mismatched bucket helmet.
A physique of that size was rare.
And such a poor aesthetic sense was even rarer. The combination of the two naturally brought someone to mind.
Suspicion soon turned to certainty.
It wasn't just Pulpuchu's thought; several others around the arena wore strange expressions and fell silent.
When he turned his head, he saw Nova with the face of a parent watching their troublemaking son.
‘It’s a relief he participated.’
If he had known beforehand, he would have assigned him to the non-knight bracket, but…
‘No, if he can’t even defeat a knight like that, he’s useless.’
Pulpuchu shifted in his seat and looked down.
“Kuhh…”
The man made a strange noise and moved with a bizarre, creaking motion.
“A strange one has appeared. You should be honored to receive my blade.”
The man, whose hair was streaked with white but who spoke with the solemnity of a knight, drew his sword.
The duel began—
“…Hmm?”
Pulpuchu couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Didn’t you say he was a knight?”
“…Yes.”
“Then how can he be so helpless…”
The rest of the sentence was not a question.
Knowing this, no answer came.
“Kuhh! Smash! Kuhh!”
He let out a groan as he watched the man, whose face must be incredibly thick to shout such embarrassing things without hesitation, literally beat the knight to a pulp.
The match was decided in a very short time.
The man had simply charged through the knight’s sword swing with his body.
If there had been aura, or if the knight’s strength had been greater, the outcome might have been different, but the knight’s sword could not penetrate the thick armor.
‘Did his hand go limp in shock?’
The man didn’t even draw his sword, simply pummeling his opponent with his fists, and the match ended just like that.
“So, I’m supposed to pretend I don’t know who that is?”
“…Yes, my lord.”
For the first time, a hesitant reply came from the usually confident Nova. Pulpuchu let out a small, audible laugh.
“The… the winner is… N-no! Deokgu Beida!!”
“Ku-hh!! Dark!”
The man shouted thunderously, raising both hands in victory, but the crowd’s reaction was mixed. A strange blend of cheers and bewilderment.
‘What a truly shameless man.’
Pulpuchu felt a strange sense of satisfaction and stood up to applaud. The applause spread and soon roared like thunder.
Looking at the bucket helmet that was looking up at him, Pulpuchu’s lips curled into a smile.
‘There might be a chance.’
Of course, if that man won, dealing with the aftermath would be another headache, but it was a hundred times better than that scoundrel knight winning.
Unlike Pulpuchu, Nova’s head was so hot she could barely process the situation.
‘…This crazy bastard!! I told him not to do it!’
Watching him stand there proudly with his hands raised after beating down a knight, Nova felt a mix of frustration and a pounding in her chest, so she lightly thumped it with her fist.
*Clang! Clang!*
Her chest plate was definitely too small.