Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Ulstro Kingdom - Martial Tournament (1)
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[Ulstro Kingdom - Martial Tournament]
The Hero Memorial Martial Tournament lasted a total of four days.
The first day was the preliminaries. The second and third days were the main rounds. And on the fourth day, the quarterfinals through the finals took place.
Today was the final day.
"Hmm."
"What's wrong, Mother?"
"I just feel like there aren't many promising talents this year. By the way, I did tell you to address me as 'Your Majesty' in public, didn't I?"
"Hehehe, sorry. Your Majesty."
Even after being scolded by her mother, Second Princess Marie Ulstro wore a beaming smile.
'I wonder if there's a handsome knight around here somewhere?'
Ulstro Kingdom had a strong tendency to revere knights above all else.
It had only been reclaimed recently, but ever since losing more than half its territory to the Demon Army eighteen years ago, that trend had intensified.
It was all due to policies spearheaded by the current queen, Beatrice de Ulstro.
When the war ended eighteen years ago, the Hero's party returned to their respective countries as heroes. But the sole member from Ulstro Kingdom—the Hero himself—had died.
The aftermath of the long war's devastation, combined with the sorrow of the Hero's death, plunged the entire nation into grief. The people lacked the will to rebuild, and with so many nobles who served as the king's limbs having perished, vacancies abounded in government posts.
At that time, the queen held the Hero Memorial Martial Tournament—and it was a resounding success.
Afterward, she turned the deceased Hero into a sort of enterprise.
A statue of the Hero was erected in the capital's grand plaza, and souvenir figurines flew off the shelves. Dozens of variations depicted the Hero in various poses, all centered around that one figure. Countless other mementos were produced as well.
The Royal Pedro Knight Order was named after the Hero, becoming the queen's loyal blade.
Novels starring the Hero were written, spawning a boom in heroic tales, knightly literature, fairy tales, and romance novels.
As a result, the kingdom's young men dreamed of becoming knights wielding a single sword, while lovely maidens harbored fantasies of meeting such a knight themselves.
And Second Princess Marie was no exception.
She was eighteen years old.
The perfect age to dream of love.
Three years ago, she had preferred other things over knights and fighting. Six years ago, she had been too ill with a pandemic to attend the tournament. So now, her eyes burned with excitement.
Marie's gaze shifted back down to the arena where the tournament was unfolding.
The quarterfinals had just wrapped up, and the semifinals were underway. Out of thousands of youthful competitors, sixteen warriors remained. Eight had been eliminated, leaving eight.
The arena's fervor was reaching a fever pitch.
"Sis. Who do you think looks promising?"
"Promising?"
At First Princess Mercedes Ulstro's questioning reply, Marie floundered for a moment before hastily making an excuse.
"Oh, I mean... who do you think will win? You're a knight, so you know better than me, right?"
"The winner, huh. The blue-haired lady knight fighting right now—Lady Etilene Profilene from the Profilene marquisate, I believe? The giant mercenary who wielded that halberd and showed off his brute strength, and..."
Mercedes glanced at a boy who wasn't resting in the waiting area like the others from the final sixteen but was out watching the matches.
Among the survivors on the last day, he looked the youngest—maybe fifteen. She hadn't checked the roster to maintain objectivity, but he seemed about that age.
Yet his skill belied his years. His swordsmanship carried the depth and maturity of someone at least thirty, exuding a heavy, seasoned aura. Whether it stemmed from his school's style or his master's influence, she didn't know—but she personally liked it.
The problem was the boy's dark crimson hair.
On this continent, black hair appeared only among demons and the barbarians at the northernmost edge.
But barbarians had brown or coppery skin and pure black hair without any admixtures.
That mingled shade was a hallmark of demon hybrids.
'Tch. What a shame.'
Mercedes clicked her tongue inwardly with regret.
Making it to the final sixteen usually guaranteed knighthood, barring any issues. Existing knights could receive other rewards.
Yet discrimination against demons and their hybrids lingered across the continent. Ulstro Kingdom, having suffered greatly, was no exception. No demon—or even hybrid—had ever been knighted.
'If he wins, I'll make him a knight somehow...'
The tournament champion warranted a formal knighthood.
But honestly, it seemed unlikely.
The hybrid boy was exceptional with the sword, but his stamina looked poor. He'd only fought once today, yet he was drenched in sweat and gasping excessively.
"Sis, Sis?"
"Oh, sorry. Probably just those two."
"I see..."
Marie sounded disappointed as she looked toward the same spot she'd been eyeing moments ago.
Mercedes noticed her little sister's gaze drifting to the dark crimson-haired boy.
She suddenly recalled that Marie's most recent novel had been about a boy hero.
'That girl.'
A smile crept in at her adorable sibling's demeanor.
It wasn't love at first sight, but clear fondness shone in her sister's eyes. Likely due to the boy's handsome features and his valiant struggles against larger foes.
At that moment, the boy seemed to notice their stares and looked their way.
They were in the royal balcony, occupied only by the queen, the two princesses, and a few attendants.
He could only be looking at them.
The instant their eyes met, he broke into a bright smile.
"Ah..."
An involuntary gasp nearly escaped her.
It was the smile of a dashing youth blended with boyish innocence.
Marie felt the same, pressing a hand to her chest as her face flushed deep red. Seeing her sister like that made Mercedes feel her own cheeks heating up similarly.
'H-He really is handsome.'
At the same time, it was heartbreaking.
The storms that boy with such a pure smile must have weathered so far—and the hardships awaiting him.
Perhaps because of that, her gaze and interest in him had deepened since first noticing him.
As she watched, his match approached soon enough.
-The final semifinal bout: Third son of Viscount Nadmira, Jinjaru Nadmira, versus the demon hybrid mercenary, Valdes!
Cheers mixed with jeers erupted from the stands as Valdes was called.
'Valdes, huh. His name.'
The announcer must have called the participants' names repeatedly, but with few impressive entrants or bouts, she'd tuned it out. Now, she finally took interest and memorized it.
One odd detail stood out, though.
"Demon hybrid... How intriguing."
"Huh? What is?"
Marie asked the queen's mutter, and Mercedes answered for her.
"Normally, demon hybrids pay good money to dye their hair and hide their heritage. Even if they're broke, they don't advertise it. But that boy introduced himself as a demon hybrid mercenary."
Prefixes before names were chosen by participants themselves, barring special cases.
Most nobles preferred formats like Jinjaru Nadmira's to flaunt their houses. Unaffiliated fighters used nicknames or origins.
Yet Valdes had openly declared himself a demon hybrid flatland mercenary.
"Oh yeah, now that you mention it. Hmm..."
Marie frowned slightly with a groan. She didn't like seeing the boy she fancied pelted with jeers and hateful glares. All she could do was cheer inwardly.
But perhaps her prayers worked.
Valdes dispatched his opponent handily.
The following semifinal was the same. He overcame the giant halberd-wielder Mercedes had tipped for victory, in a grueling close fight.
Unlike the quarters, the hard-won struggle only drew more support for him.
The crowd felt it too. Earlier cheers for his name had been self-made. Jeers persisted, but genuine roars now drowned them out.
"Hehe, maybe Valdes will win it all."
"Haha, doubtful. Look at all that sweat pouring off him. Lady Etilene from the Profilene marquisate still looks fresh by comparison."
"Hmm... Then let's make a bet!"
"A bet?"
"Yeah."
Mercedes agreed without hesitation. It was just sisterly fun.
The stakes: one favor from the loser, nothing major.
-Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting! The grand final of the martial tournament is about to begin! First, introductions for our finalists!
After a brief intermission, the long-awaited final commenced.
-She rose here with dazzling quickswordplay, toying with countless foes! Can she become the first woman to claim tournament victory?! Lady Etilene Profilene of the Profilene marquisate!!
Rooooar!!!
The biggest cheer yet exploded.
True to her house's swiftblade specialty, Etilene wore light armor emphasizing mobility, wielding a slender rapier.
Unlike her cool demeanor, her eyes blazed with fierce fighting spirit.
"I never realized Lady Etilene was such a fiery person last time I saw her. Interesting."
As Mercedes knew, Etilene was as distant from ladylike pursuits as she was, immersed in swords and knighthood. At parties, her dress had looked downright awkward. Otherwise, finding differences between them would be quicker—Etilene was that reclusive.
"Hehe, there's a reason for it."
The queen reminisced, sharing an old tale.
Etilene's father, the current Marquis Profilene, had been runner-up in the inaugural tournament—at age twenty-three. The event honored the twenty-four-year-old Hero, so there was an age limit.
The queen figured Etilene aimed to win for her father.
'I see.'
That explained her current fire.
-Facing her is the boy! Who climbed from the bottom to the top!! A boy mercenary unsure even of his own age, proudly owning his demon blood!! Valdes!!
Booo!
Rooooar!!
Jeers mingled with cheers as Valdes ascended in his leather armor.
The two exchanged words, but the roar drowned them out. Conversation done, Etilene donned her helmet from her side. Her ponytail vanished, revealing not a woman or noble—but a knight.
Valdes, by contrast, wore well-maintained but worn leather armor and a single longsword. The equipment gap was evident from the start.
The announcer's cry signaled the match's beginning.
Swoosh—
With the signal, Etilene's blade tip lanced toward Valdes' shoulder. A terrifying thrust—but Valdes barely evaded.
'He dodged that...? Impressive. Staying out here instead of resting in the lounge must've been to study his opponent.'
Etilene always opened with her signature lightning thrust.
If anyone had eyes on her, they'd have seen it countless times.
She liked Valdes even more now.
A knight's prowess wasn't swordplay alone. Within honorable bounds, one must use every tool available. That was Ulstro knighthood—and Mercedes' ideal.
Such thoughts swirled as the duel raged on.
Etilene dominated relentlessly with her rapier, no respite. Valdes' clothes tore in spots, blood trickled.
But no telling blows landed. He dodged or parried the heavy hits.
'More skilled than expected. Rough yet refined movements.'
"...Pedro?"
"Yes? Oh... No, what did you say, Your Majesty?"
"Oh, nothing."
Marie seemed not to catch it, but Mercedes heard clearly.
The queen murmuring the Hero's name.
'Come to think of it...'
She recalled the knight commander describing the Hero's style: beastly ferocity laced with finesse. She'd never seen him fight, but it must've been something like this.
Her heart raced.
If I could train that boy? Could he be the next Hero's successor?
But her pulse steadied quickly. Talent aside, or her teaching ability—getting him into her order was near impossible.
Hers was the Royal Pedro Knight Order.
One of the kingdom's top three. Entry tests were rigorous, recruits only at set times. Few would back a demon hybrid in the Hero-named order.
"It's a bit disappointing."