V. O, Glory of the Tournament! (12)
V. O, Glory of the Tournament! (12)
The joust did not conclude entirely within a single day.
This was due to the sheer number of knights participating in the tournament. The first day of jousting that Keldric fought in could be considered merely a taste of what was to come.
"It's a technique to draw in the audience. So much so that it's practically a custom for the first day of a tournament to run only a short series of jousts."
As Alisa had said, thanks to the invitation of renowned knights like Sir Rupert and Sir Ortvin, the spectators' excitement had soared to the heavens right from the very first match.
That momentum carried straight through the matches that followed, and unexpectedly, the match that garnered the most fervor after the first was Keldric's own.
Consequently, the first day of the Bogenberg Tournament, far more boisterous than anticipated, concluded in great success.
Keldric rode on with a considerably lighter heart. By the time he exited the tournament grounds, the sun had already begun to set, and the surroundings were gradually darkening.
The practice of refraining from outdoor activity once the sun went down differed little between a rural village and a city.
The only difference, if any, was the attempt to artificially illuminate the area with oil candles or torches, but even so, they were far from capable of lighting up the entire tournament grounds and continuing the matches.
"Sir Keldric! Today's match was truly remarkable! It was the most impressive joust I have ever witnessed!"
Sir Alan rode up, beaming from ear to ear, and clapped Keldric on the back with heavy thumps.
Though he had seemed unreliable on the surface, in truth, he had bet every last coin on Keldric with the desperate hope of clinging to even a sliver of a chance.
Thanks to that, Sir Alan could cover the losses from his own match defeat, and with money left over beyond that, he could not wipe the grin from his face.
"Ah, damn it! I should have bet my entire fortune! Kwaaaah!"
By contrast, Sir Henri had not been so fortunate, unable to shake off his anxiety.
Less desperate than Sir Alan, Sir Henri had wagered only a single Florin gold coin, and it had returned to him at the final odds of sevenfold.
It was still a large sum, but if Sir Henri had shown just a little more faith, he might have gained far more.
"I told you, didn't I? To bet everything on me."
"Damnation...! It's not so much that I only won a little, but that this insufferable Britas knight made a killing that galls me so! My guts are twisting!"
"..."
Keldric looked on, bewildered, as Sir Henri began writhing this way and that.
'From tomorrow on... I've no idea.'
He could not be certain, but it seemed unlikely there would be many opportunities as good as today's for Sir Henri to make a fortune overnight.
Making his debut in the joust, Keldric had won his first match from the outset, and not just won, but crushed his opponent with overwhelming force.
Because of that, it was clear that the odds on bets placed on Keldric in the subsequent tournament events would not be as high as they were today.
They would likely still be at a level impossible to dismiss even in the second match, but missing the chance for a single wager to return a profit of sevenfold was a monumental miscalculation.
"Alisa. Did you earn quite a bit as well?"
"...Heh heh."
Keldric deliberately averted his gaze from Alisa, who was chuckling in a rather ominous manner.
No matter how little interest one had in money, it was impossible for a person to live without needing any.
How much more so for a wandering wizard like Alisa, roaming from place to place.
"Thanks to you, Sir Keldric, it seems I won't have to struggle with financial worries for the time being. Truly, thank you."
"Think nothing of it. The fact that you believed in me and placed your bet was thanks to your own keen insight."
"No, that wasn't insight, it was..."
Naturally, from Alisa's perspective, it must have looked less like gambling and more like a guaranteed return.
The brute strength that had hoisted a knight clad in metal armor clean into the air, and the sight of a rock troll being pummeled into a pulp—these images had yet to fade from Alisa's mind.
She had witnessed Sir Keldric's prowess time and time again, and because of it, Alisa had been certain.
In this tournament, betting on Sir Keldric was a guaranteed win!
"But, Sir Keldric. Are you hurt anywhere?"
Alisa's expression as she asked this looked quite worried.
However, whether her question stemmed from concern over the future wagers or genuine worry for Keldric himself was impossible to tell.
"Hmm..."
Keldric slowly rotated his left shoulder, gauging the damage.
That was the shoulder he had used to deflect Sir Bruno's lance just moments ago, during the joust.
A thrusting attack, condensed into a single point from a cavalry charge atop a destrier, was nothing short of terrifying.
No matter how armored one was, if that attack had been met head-on, it would not have been surprising if the shoulder dislocated or, worse, the muscle ruptured.
Yet, as Keldric rotated his shoulder, he found no significant trouble aside from a slight pull in the muscle.
"It seems to be nothing. I deflected the blow well."
It was thanks to his instinctively twisting his shoulder to shunt the attack aside while simultaneously striking Sir Bruno, who had drawn near, with all his might.
Because of this, to the eyes of onlookers, it had appeared as if Keldric had absorbed the entire attack with his shoulder.
That was the reason the title 'Knight of Superhuman Strength' had followed Keldric.
"Well, it's a relief you're unharmed... But still, how in the world...?"
While even Alisa tilted her head in bafflement, Keldric gazed off into the distance at the knights being carried away in the back of a cart.
"I wonder if Sir Bruno will be alright."
"Ah..."
At those words, Alisa was at a loss for what to say.
It was already a miracle that was killing her with curiosity that Keldric's body was perfectly fine, but if Sir Bruno also possessed some mysterious body of steel, that would be another matter entirely.
For better or for worse, Sir Bruno was a man with an entirely average knight's physique.
Having been unhorsed as if flung off by the shoulder counter that shunted his attack, Sir Bruno, by the time Keldric had gone to him and honorably helped him to his feet, was in such a state he could barely speak.
As a result, rather than showing respect and courtesy to the defeated, Keldric had no choice but to stand and watch as Sir Bruno's attendants frantically loaded him onto a stretcher and carried him off.
"Ah, he will likely be fine. Since you didn't intentionally inflict injury during the match, there's no one who would hold it against you, Sir Keldric."
"Then that is fortunate."
"Hm? Were you speaking of Sir Bruno?"
As Keldric and Alisa spoke, Sir Henri, his excitement finally extinguished, rode up to join them.
Though he still flinched upon seeing Alisa, he did not let it show outwardly, and Keldric simply nodded.
"Yes. I was wondering if I hadn't been too hard on him."
"It was a little harsh. I can gauge that sort of injury at a glance, and in Sir Bruno's case, it's not just a matter of one or two broken bones, I'd wager. He won't claim medical expenses, but still, it was well done of you to reduce the victory ransom."
However much it was understood that injuries could occur when fighting one another, rendering an opponent half-crippled was not a result Keldric found particularly pleasing.
The fact that he had slightly reduced the ransom he was meant to collect from Sir Bruno had been an action born of that very reason.
"It was an honorable act as well, so it's no great loss. You did the right thing."
"Right. I doubt worrying further would let me do anything more for him."
"Wahahat! That's the spirit! If you ride this momentum to victory, Sir Keldric, I'll become a rich man indeed!"
"...I'm here as well."
"How could a defeated Britas knight ever seize victory? You speak nonsense. How laughable."
"Why, you piece of—! You blasted Frankish knight! A duel!"
"Bring it! Let's settle this once and for all!"
"Both of you, don't make a scene."
Even as he watched the two of them baring their teeth and going at each other as usual, Keldric could not stop the corners of his mouth from twitching.
'Just how much did they earn?'
Though he had only won a single match, he could not even begin to guess what sort of profit he had gained.
Keldric forcibly suppressed the corners of his lips from curling upward again and again, a consequence of the heavy weight of the coin purse pressing against his chest.
It wasn't money he needed to spend urgently on anything in particular, but still, the more money one had, the better.
Money can't buy happiness, but with money, one can be happy.
With those words etched into his very bones, Keldric spurred Boreas onward.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
The joust continued on the second day of the tournament.
The first day, doubling as the opening ceremony, had ended after a short run of only twelve matches, but the second day, beginning early in the morning, proceeded at such a hectic pace that the matches exceeded twenty.
Because of this, Keldric had to continue into his next match immediately following the first day's bout.
In a tournament, especially one as large in scale as the Bogenberg Tournament, winning once did not mean moving straight up the ladder.
That privilege applied only to famous knights like Sir Ortvin, who had been showcased on the first day, and Keldric had no choice but to compete without complaint.
"Who is today's opponent?"
"Hard to say. Whoever it is, he'll be a stronger knight than Sir Bruno, whom you met yesterday."
Keldric nodded at Sir Alan's words.
Indeed, he could feel that talk about Keldric was spreading little by little after the match he had shown on the first day.
The number was not large, but a few nobles had recognized Keldric as he entered the stands and had paid him compliments.
Among them were many subtle offers asking if he could deal with magical beasts or a bandit gang that had appeared on their lands, but Sir Henri and Sir Alan stepped in on his behalf and became angry for him.
"Would it not be quite impossible for Sir Keldric to stoop to such menial tasks? I suspect this is a grave underestimation of Sir Keldric."
"That sort of work seems better suited for butchers. Sir Keldric is not a sword to be drawn by just anyone."
Seeing that, Keldric wondered if they had lost their minds, but in any case, it was a relief that things passed over somehow.
"Is it the next match?"
"The one after next. I think it's time to head down."
"I'll cheer for you. This time for certain, the chance to make a fortune...!"
"What standing does a Frankish knight who cannot even spot an opportunity have to share in it?"
"This fellow, I've had enough just watching you!"
"Farewell, Sir Keldric. Return safe and sound."
Sent off by the three of them, Keldric descended toward the arena.
"Good sir. I wish to place a wager."
"Ah, yes. Are you not Sir Keldric of House Bellaf? Which way will you bet?"
"The match after next. On myself, to win."
"Understood. I shall pray for your victory."
On his way to the arena, he did not forget to meticulously place his bet with the servant collecting wagers, the same one he had seen the day before.
The process was a series of routine steps: inspecting his armor, examining the tournament lance handed to him inside the grounds, and fitting on his helm.
Keldric was not nervous. It might be different if it were a first experience, but if it was something he had already been through once, there was no reason at all to be tense.
However, there was a separate reason why Keldric's heart kept pounding fiercely.
"The contest is decided! May God comfort the vanquished!"
Listening to Burggraf Kuno's voice booming from outside and the thunderous roar of the crowd, Keldric slowly took a deep breath.
There was no time to sit intoxicated by yesterday's victory. Keldric had to pursue greater glory, greater wealth, and greater honor.
And that opportunity still lay right before Keldric's eyes.
All Keldric had to do was reach out his hand and seize victory.
"The knight of the Yellow Rapeseed Team participating this time is― ."
Even while the next match was underway, Keldric refused to release the tension he had deliberately raised in his body.
'I'm losing my mind.'
Keldric was itching with impatience.
Impatience for the glory of victory, the rising fervor of the crowd, and the electrifying thrill that could only be felt in that single moment.
"The knight of the Red Paulownia Team to compete in the twenty-fourth match is the honorable Sir Gaspare of House Vera!"
Keldric gripped the reins tight. A grating, creaking sound emanated from the lance in his right hand.
"His valiant opponent from the Blue Dragoon Team, the honorable Sir Keldric of House Bellaf!"
The gate opened, and far in the distance, his opposing knight came into Keldric's view.
An excessively gleaming helm, and a feather ornament atop the helm's crest so extraordinarily ornate it bordered on the bizarre.
This was the knight Keldric had to face.
Enjoying the slowly mounting excitement in moderation, Keldric spurred Boreas and rode out onto the field.
There was no need for haste.
The chance to savor the glory of victory still overflowed in abundance.