Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 035
Chapter Title: The Way to Save Humanity
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The jousting tournament was set up so that each knight fought three matches on the first day.
That wouldn't be so bad if every bout ended with one side unhorsed right away, but when they scored hits on shields or armor, the clashes dragged on for several exchanges. Even though the matches started fairly early, by the time all the knights had finished, the sun was already beginning to set.
Naturally, Shan dominated every single one of his bouts.
He struck his first opponent's helmet dead-on to topple him, hit the empty chest plate of his second foe, and pierced the shoulder of the third to send him tumbling backward.
"Shan! Shan! Shan!"
"Damn it! That Altoin brat ruined me again!"
"Keep it down, man. Everyone can hear you."
Each time, the cheers grew a little louder.
Of course, the wails and jeers from those who'd lost their shirts in the betting pools were always even louder.
The dismissal came after the announcer gave a memorial speech for the two knights who'd sadly lost their lives. There were various safety measures in place, but fatalities happened every year due to faulty gear or bad luck, so the crowd just accepted it as part of the event.
After joining the others in a moment of silence, Shan glanced at the banner hanging on one side of the arena.
At the very top of the leaderboard was the name 'Shan Barendil'.
Among those with three wins and no losses, his score was the highest—thanks to knocking out every opponent in a single strike.
"I figured as much, but that's overwhelming."
Shan responded to Roden's words with an awkward smile.
With other knights around, saying it wasn't tough at all would be rude, but claiming it had been hard would be a lie.
Just then, Sir Catra approached Shan with a somewhat ashamed expression.
His matches today hadn't gone smoothly—several lance marks scarred his armor.
"Hate to say it after you invited me, but... mind if I bring a few more comrades next time? They're dying to see that cockatrice head."
"Of course not."
"Thanks!"
"By the way, how'd you do today?"
"One win, two losses. Looks like I'll be out tomorrow. Do your best for both of us, yeah?"
Sir Catra gave a wry smile.
His gear and skills weren't top-tier among the gathered knights, so it was unavoidable.
Before leaving, Shan waved once to the remaining crowd.
As dusk fell, his glowing green eyes left a deep impression on the spectators.
When the knights arrived, the Webers estate erupted in chaos from the unexpected guests.
Kallion rushed out, bowing deeply as if welcoming a windfall at his shop, and ushered them inside.
"What an honor for brave knights to grace our humble abode... Hurry and prepare some food!"
"Right away, master!"
One of the knights muttered as he watched the servants scurrying about.
"Thought his face looked familiar. Isn't that the capital's merchant guildmaster? Did he sponsor your armor too?"
"Yeah. He's been supporting me since I was a kid. Even my squire here's his family's heir."
"Ah, that explains why he looks a bit older..."
The knights turned to Roden, who was quietly leading Shan's horse, and nodded in realization.
After that, their attitude toward Kallion grew noticeably more courteous.
They'd ignored his fawning earlier like he was some buzzing fly, but now they offered nods or eye contact.
Watching that, Shan could see why Kallion obsessed over knightly connections.
Unless you were an oddball like Darkal, you needed that kind of leverage to get any respect from haughty knights.
A short while later, Shan led the knights inside to where the cockatrice was displayed.
They gasped at the head mounted on the wall.
"It's really a cockatrice! Stone skin, beak and all—just like the tales. Not some fake."
"And that cut... so clean."
"Oh, I sliced it off after the hunt. During the fight, I took it more from the middle."
"The middle? How? Tell us more."
They shared the full story over dinner.
Since it was rushed, there were no slow-cooked dishes—just quick grills and stir-fries.
Luckily, the chef was skilled, so the knights shoveled food in with satisfaction.
"It was during an expedition into the Demon Realm. We entered this ravine when suddenly the ground shook—boom..."
Having spun the tale many times to explorers in Shedil City, Shan delivered it smoothly now.
The knights cheered hotly at his fabricated cockatrice hunt.
If they'd heard it yesterday, they might've called him a braggart.
But this boy had just proven his skill with three crushing jousting victories.
Among the knights here, only one other had three wins—barely scraping by after nearly losing multiple times.
"Hunting a cockatrice... gets the blood pumping!"
"Call me next time something like that comes up."
"Come on, he's already hunted one solo—why would he need company?"
"You never know! Surviving one beast doesn't guarantee the next... N-not that I'm doubting you, Sir Shan!"
The knights' faces were flushed red as they rambled.
They'd been guzzling the wine that came with the meal.
As the drinking ramped up, more personal stories started spilling out.
"You know the real reason for this jousting tournament?"
"First I've heard."
"Overheard it by chance—the two princes want to recruit top performers as vassals for a Demon Realm expedition."
"Ah, that rumor about His Majesty's health?"
The king's declining health was common knowledge now, with the princes seeking a magic device to cure him.
Sir Catra turned to Shan.
"What about you, Sir Shan? You're a free knight, right? If you win, will you pledge your lance to one of the princes?"
"From the rumors, doesn't seem like they'd accept an Altoin's lance."
"Ah..."
The other knights sighed at Shan's reply.
Those with strong biases or Old Faith followers hadn't come anyway, so everyone here regretted that Shan's talent would go to waste.
"I'll have to mention you to my lord. It's outrageous for a knight of your caliber to wander as a free blade just because he's Altoin."
"I'll bring it up first—don't cut in!"
"What?"
The bickering lasted only a moment before the dining hall turned into a rowdy tavern of drunken revelers.
Mouths stuffed with food sprayed crumbs everywhere, and dropped bottles soaked the rugs.
"Hahaha!"
"One more round!"
Hard to believe these were knights facing deadly bouts tomorrow.
'Am I the only one who actually follows knightly etiquette...?'
Shan pondered the etiquette lessons from his past life as he watched.
Then again, they were among fellow knights, so this was probably their way to unwind.
The pressure of tomorrow's life-or-death clashes surely played a part.
Sir Catra and the others managed not to pass out there and left before curfew.
Kallion urged them to stay the night, but they preferred places where their own squires could tend to their gear and horses.
After the boisterously singing knights departed, Shan turned to the weary-looking Roden.
"Have fun chatting with the squires?"
"Eh, they all treated me like some old geezer."
A knight's squire was both an assistant and a trainee knight-in-waiting.
Outliers like Shan—trained intensely by retired knights like Sir Darkal without formal squire duty—existed, but most followed the squire path.
Hence, squires were usually in their teens.
Roden wasn't much older at just over twenty, but his mature looks made him the odd one out—Shan couldn't help chuckling.
"Don't laugh. Anyway, you reek of booze. How much did you down?"
"Dunno. Seven bottles?"
"Skinny guy like you's a heavyweight drinker, huh? How does it even fit?"
"Everyone else was knocking 'em back too. Felt bad for your dad, though—good stuff, and I dragged 'em here."
"Nah, he'll love it. Look at him—grinning ear to ear while directing cleanup."
Indeed, Kallion's face beamed as he oversaw the tidying.
Seemed getting some respect from knights via Shan had cheered him up.
"Plus, we bet big on you winning everywhere—enough profit from that to cover dinner ten times over."
Before today, Shan was a total unknown, so few bet on his three wins.
But Kallion's servants had secretly placed heavy stakes on him sweeping the field.
"The real win, though? Far fewer doubting your cockatrice kill now. Sure, some diehards call it a lie, but plenty saw the head."
Building reputation among knights was no small weapon.
If royals or nobles tried curbing Shan's rights over his Altoin blood, support from his peers would be the strongest shield.
What guarantee was there they wouldn't invent other excuses next if race was the precedent?
As the two bantered while helping tidy the dining hall, a servant approached Kallion to report a visitor.
"At this hour? Curfew's almost up."
Kallion was baffled but told them to let the guest in anyway.
The servant mentioned it was someone who'd visited before.
Roden, who went to greet them in the parlor, soon called for Shan.
Seeing who waited inside, Shan paused thoughtfully.
"So, Sir Agon?"
"Kagon!"
The male of the princess's two inept guards.
Shan barely remembered him that way, but the man bellowed angrily.
Unlike his plain disguise last time, he was dressed quite lavishly now.
"Ah, yes. Sir Kagon. What brings you here?"
"Her Highness... the princess summons you."
Kagon grimaced, clearly hating to say it, then added,
"Not mandatory, of course. She's just calling to congratulate your victories. If you're busy or tired, feel free to decline."
His tone implied, 'Don't you dare refuse a princess.'
Either way, Shan had no reason not to go.
He hadn't taken a single hit today, so the armor's defensive enchantment went unused—but calling it useless would be foolish.
Proper to thank her in person.
"Then I should go. But is it okay entering the palace at night? With curfew?"
"She's at her villa outside the palace. And night watchmen blocking a knight? Please."
"Ah."
Shan and Roden followed Kagon through the dark streets, each holding a torch.
For Shan, who saw perfectly without one, it was mostly for show.
A few watchmen clomped over, then recoiled at Shan's glowing green eyes in the shadows—before brightening in recognition.
"Sir Shan? The Altoin knight?"
"Uh, yeah..."
"Undefeated in the first day's jousts! An honor to meet you!"
In this knight-obsessed kingdom, word had spread fast—some watchmen recognized and cheered him.
A few looked indifferent or hostile, but none heckled openly.
No one was dumb enough to provoke a cockatrice hunter who'd topped the royal jousts, sword at his hip.
"Out so late—"
"Answering a noble's summons. Step aside."
"Of course! Sorry!"
The watchmen bowed and cleared the way at Kagon's words.
Regular commoners caught out at night would've gotten the club treatment.
That effortless rule-bending was the power of status.
A short time later, they reached the princess's villa in the capital's noble district.
A few knocks, and a servant peeked out, saw Kagon, and quickly let them in before slamming the door.
In the inner parlor, the door opened to reveal Aran, the princess's other guard.
Princess Sherin sat in a plush chair, reading by magic light, hair tied back tightly and glasses on, just like their first meeting.
"Shan of House Barendil greets Your Highness."
"Ah, you came! Didn't expect it this late. I heard—three crushing wins, top of the board?"
"Yes..."
"Makes knighting you feel worthwhile. I'm thrilled."
"Thanks to Your Highness's aid."
As Shan bowed politely and looked up, he flinched involuntarily.
Beneath her amethyst glasses, her pale cheek bore a dark bruise.
"That's...?"
"He raged about tarnishing the royal honor. Guess a prince hitting his little sister is less shameful."
No need to spell it out—it stemmed from word of her knighting Shan.
Her wistful smile blended with her decadent beauty, giving off a fragile, pitiable allure.
Roden, watching from behind, nearly snorted in disbelief.
'That fox...'
It looked bad, but any skilled royal priest could've healed it instantly.
Or the princess, a master mage herself, could've whipped up a potion.
Anyone could see she'd left it to appeal to Shan: 'I got this for your sake.'
Innocent to such ploys, Shan stared gravely.
"Did you get that because of me?"
"No need to think that way. It'll heal soon enough. Enough dull talk—sit. Night's late, and I can't keep you overnight for appearances, so let's make the most of it."
As Shan and Roden sat opposite, a maid brought tea soon after.
But it wasn't ordinary tea—the liquid inside was dark, tinged brown.
Like some potion, Shan and Roden exchanged glances.
They'd eaten her apple pie before since it looked fine, but this screamed trouble.
'Safe to drink?'
'No clue...'
Sherin giggled at their hesitation.
"First time for both of you? It's black tea—from the southern continent. Clears the mind, useful all around."
She stirred in several spoonfuls of sugar from a bowl and sipped.
Imitating her, they found it sweet yet bitter and savory—unfamiliar, but not bad.
"Tastes good..."
"I'd love to share some, but it's scarce. Even southern trade ships rarely bring it—we grow it in palace greenhouses, and harvests take ages."
In other words, rare and pricey.
No surprise a merchant guildmaster's son hadn't heard of it, or that the princess hoarded it.
Sherin took another sip, then wrinkled her nose at the booze wafting from Shan.
"Not nagging, but ease up on the drink. Bad for adults, worse for kids—huge strain on a young body. I want you healthy for years."
"Ah, yes. I'll keep that in mind."
Shan, who'd never considered alcohol harmful, nodded curiously anyway.
Sir Darkal and knights praised heavy drinkers as true men, but on health, the mage princess knew best.
"So, how were the jousts? Kagon says your win's all but certain."
Kagon coughed behind her.
He'd apparently reported Shan's performance after watching today.
Instead of false modesty, Shan nodded honestly.
"Yes. Barring surprises, I'll take it."
"Good. Very good..."
Sherin closed her book with a snap, her drowsy voice firming.
Shan's confident reply seemed to steel her resolve.
"Remember when I said I had a way to turn this kingdom upside down?"
"Yes."
"It's magic stone compression and division—leading to mass-produced, lightweight magic devices. Research is complete; just final verification left."
Her guards swallowed quietly behind her.
As if she'd spilled a forbidden secret.
But Shan and Roden, magic novices, couldn't grasp the implications right away.
Anticipating that, Sherin continued.
"Know why most modern magic devices are Altoin-era relics?"
"Because permanently fixing spells without magic stones is impossible," Roden answered.
All magic needed power sources; modern enchantment spells granted only temporary effects, unable to self-recharge.
That's why modern tools were consumables.
Embedding magic stones for power? They were too big and scarce.
Even the cockatrice stone they'd gotten was thicker than a man's torso.
Smaller ones still exceeded head size—impractical for swords or armor.
Thus, stones fortified walls or gates at best.
Golem tech using them was in R&D but unproven.
"This changes everything. Compress stones to fingernail size, and you can magic-ify gear, gadgets—even tiny ones. Split one big stone into hundreds for mass-producing low-power devices."
Armies equipped with those could sweep mountain and field monsters.
A few knights with powerful multi-stone gear could rout huddled behemoths, driving all from the Demon Realm.
The age of magic, after a millennium.
This invention would save Pendia—and humanity.
She intoned it dreamily.