Chapter 63: The Tin Knight and The City of Clockwork — Act 3 (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 63: The Tin Knight and The City of Clockwork — Act 3 (5)
The representative of the new faction, René von Lennart, thought:
‘It’s impossible to turn a novice into a proper warrior in just one week. The best I can do is instill confidence and adaptability through carefully controlled challenges and a series of victories.’
The representative of the traditional faction, Gerhardt von Lennart, thought:
‘In a fight between amateurs, what ultimately decides the outcome is mental fortitude. The experience of being pushed to the absolute limit, of moving even when you think you can't move anymore, will become a firm root that forges a strong spirit.’
The representative of the rootless—no, the invading faction, Adelaide von Lennart, thought:
‘Go! Go! You can do it!’
While there was at least one oddball in the mix, their assessments, despite minor differences, shared the same basic principle.
—It is impossible to achieve dramatic physical improvement or technical mastery in the short span of a week. Therefore, the mind must be fortified.
One sought to create the optimal condition through a series of successes, while the other prepared for the worst by forging a spirit of self-control that would not falter even when cornered.
On the stage.
René's representative stood out with a confident expression and a relaxed air, as if they could accomplish anything.
Gerhardt's representative had a barely perceptible pride, as if a fight between kids like this was nothing special.
But the one who truly captured the audience's attention was not those two, but the last person standing beside them.
“Grrrrr…!”
Bloodshot eyes. Sunken eye sockets. Disheveled hair. And even a beast-like cry escaping from their mouth.
A dangerous figure stood there, the kind you'd immediately run from if you met them in a dark alley at night—no, even if you met them in broad daylight next to a city guard post.
“Uh, um. Ahem.”
Between the three contestants, the knight commander, who had been unwillingly assigned the role of referee by a superior whose brain was pickled in cheerfulness, spoke with a troubled expression.
“Um, Lady Adelaide. May I ask you a question?”
“Ah, yes! Please do!”
“Your contestant seems a little... unwell. Will they have any trouble participating in the match?”
In truth, they looked not just a little, but very unwell, but the knight commander was a gentleman who knew what he should and shouldn't say to a lady.
“It's fine! They're just a little overly motivated! They were thoroughly examined by Mr. Ernest before the match!”
At those words, the gazes of the count's vassals all turned to Ernest.
Bombarded by glares that seemed to say, ‘Do you really think that's okay? Seriously? Are you sure it's not your head that's not okay?’, Ernest's cheek twitched.
He struggled to maintain his composure and replied.
“…The examination results showed no particular abnormalities.”
There had been a small incident before the match where the Tin Knight brought a drug that ‘makes people go wild’ and asked if the contestant could take it, but he gave up as soon as he was told no, so it wasn't a major problem.
The fact that they looked like that without taking any drugs seemed more serious, but having watched the frenzied training for a week, Ernest's senses were a bit numb too. This was why one's usual environment was so important.
“Hmm, if that's the case.”
The knight commander nodded, though with a slightly reluctant expression.
The knight commander knew well of Ernest's sincere and loyal character.
If he judged there was no problem, his assessment was trustworthy. Still, that appearance is really something, no matter how you look at it.
“The conditions for defeat are incapacitation, forfeiture, or being knocked out of the ring. This is a three-way battle, and the team of the last contestant standing will earn a point. Is everyone ready?”
“Yes!”
“Yes.”
“Grrrrr.”
“Your, uh, answer... Never mind.”
Shaking his head in resignation, the knight commander moved away from the center of the arena to the edge.
And he declared.
“Match, begin!”
*
A 1-on-1-on-1 three-way battle.
The standard strategy is as follows.
Is there one person who is exceptionally strong? Then the two weaker ones form an alliance and attack the strong one together.
Are two of them strong and roughly equal in skill? Then those two form an alliance and attack the weak one, deciding to get the nuisance out of the way first.
Are all three about the same in skill? Then the two with a closer personal connection or friendship team up and attack the remaining one.
You might wonder why every scenario ends in a two-on-one, but that's precisely why it's called the standard approach—it's predictable.
And that was also proof that its effectiveness was so certain that it had to be used repeatedly, despite being obvious.
Therefore, the opening of a three-way battle was a battle of observation.
Because you have to read the situation to figure out if you're the strong one or a weak one and act accordingly.
And as if to say "to hell with standard strategies," Team Adelaide's representative charged the moment the signal was given and smashed the wooden sword straight into the face of Team René's representative.
Thwack!
A sound, a bit too dull to be called crisp, echoed out.
With the shocked faces of the audience as a backdrop, the body of Team René's representative fell backward as if in slow motion.
And without hesitation, Team Adelaide's representative slammed a follow-up strike into their chest.
“Grrrrrr!”
The eyes of Team Adelaide's representative, who had lost the ability of human speech, stared at the next target.
Gerhardt's representative almost flinched in spite of himself, but quickly clenched his teeth and swung his sword at the charging opponent.
With a crude sound, wooden sword met wooden sword.
Clack! Clack! Thud!
On the third clash, the wooden sword slipped from the grasp of Team Adelaide's representative.
Their physical abilities and grip strength were similar, but having used up energy to take down René's team member, the strength in the Adelaide representative's hands gave out first.
A blow from Gerhardt's representative struck the left shoulder of Adelaide's representative.
But Team Adelaide's representative was already too far gone to fully feel the pain and shock.
Grab.
“Huh?”
The Adelaide representative grabbed the wooden sword that had struck their shoulder with both hands, leaning forward and sinking to their knees.
The Gerhardt representative reflexively tightened his grip to keep hold of his sword, but with the full weight of a person pulling on his wrist, his body inevitably tilted and his stance broke.
And in that moment, the Adelaide representative sprang up like a coil and headbutted their opponent's chin.
“Gak!”
“Ugh-aaaaah!”
Letting out an inhuman scream, the Adelaide representative hit their opponent again and again.
There was no swordsmanship. It wasn't martial arts either. It was just a brawl—swinging fists, kicking, and ramming with their body.
The Gerhardt representative tried to counterattack, but his spirit was broken by the sight of the Adelaide representative, who only seemed to get angrier and attack more fiercely with each attempt.
Seeing the Gerhardt representative completely curled up, not even daring to resist, the knight commander finally intervened.
“That's enough! Winner, Team Adelaide!”
“Uraaaah!”
“Wooooh!”
“You did it!”
The victor roared, and their teammates answered in kind.
In contrast, the members of the other teams all had dumbfounded expressions.
“R-Representative. Is that... alright?”
René answered her subordinate's question.
“Alright? What about it?”
“Well. It seems too barbaric. At this rate, it's not a duel between warriors, but just a brawl between thugs, isn't it?”
“…I suppose so. But it's not like there's a problem, is there? They didn't break any rules. When you get down to it, all they did was fight desperately.”
“No, but, um.”
“See? There's nothing you can really say, right? I feel the same way.”
René let out a hollow laugh, as if in disbelief.
If they had shown off some profound swordsmanship or extraordinary physical ability, she could at least analyze it, but winning like that left her with nothing to say.
“We just have to win next time. Tell the contestant to watch out for the initial surprise attack.”
*
“Kuaaaargh!”
Gerhardt's eyebrow twitched at the scream echoing from the stage.
There, a disciple Gerhardt had taught himself was screaming his head off, his hand bitten by his opponent.
The disciple struggled, trying to shake off his opponent by hitting their head or pushing their face with his free hand, but far from letting go, the opponent only bit down harder, forcing him to finally yell his surrender.
As the announcement of Team Adelaide's second victory rang out, Gerhardt's subordinates let out a collective sigh.
“H-How could this happen!”
“How could he be so weak! The opponent's head was completely exposed; if he had just kept attacking, he would have won!”
“Master. Shouldn't we protest? In a sacred duel to decide the dojo's representative, what is this unsightly display!”
Gerhardt replied to the laments around him with a grim face.
“Are you telling me to smear shit on my own face with my own hands?”
“Pardon?”
“I, and that damn youngster, both predicted this fight would be a battle of spirit, not of strength or skill. That's why I did my best to forge my disciples' mindset, and the result is right before our eyes. You want me to deny it so shamefully?”
“But, sir, that's not a proper method, is it?”
“The result is the result.”
Though he ground his teeth in frustration, Gerhardt did not deny the outcome.
The stubborn old man had his own philosophy, after all.
“There are still three chances left. We just have to win.”
*
Team Adelaide had scored two consecutive victories with overwhelming momentum, but from the third match, the tide began to turn.
Because the representatives of the remaining two teams, thinking that losing just one more point would end the competition, began to openly target Team Adelaide's representatives.
In a situation where the skill gap between them wasn't that large, it was too much to overcome a 2-on-1 fight, no matter how full of venom they were.
After the fourth match ended, the score was Team René 1 point, Team Gerhardt 1 point, and Team Adelaide 2 points.
“Everyone, do your best!”
Adelaide watched the final representative go up on stage with an anxious expression.
For the past week, though she lacked the knack and experience, she had done her best as a teacher, however inadequate.
The fact that she could do nothing but cheer while her disciples fought so desperately pained her.
A cold, hard hand tapped Adelaide on the shoulder.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ declares there is no need to worry!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ asserts that you should trust him, the one who taught them!]
“Sir Knight….”
Adelaide, who had been gazing up at the Tin Knight, soon turned back to the stage with a resolute expression.
For her, who couldn't even trust herself yet, being told to trust her disciples was an incredibly difficult request.
However.
Even if she couldn't believe in herself, Adelaide could trust the Tin Knight.
He was eccentric and sometimes committed bizarre acts beyond imagination, but as far as Adelaide knew, the Tin Knight was the strongest being who never lost, no matter the circumstances.
“Match, begin!”
Team Gerhardt and Team René. The two representatives exchanged glances.
It was a silent agreement to take down Team Adelaide's representative first, then settle the score between themselves.
It was the same development that had been repeated in the third and fourth matches.
Therefore.
“The two of you combined are nothing compared to my master, you bastards.”
Everyone there was stunned to see the young man, Team Adelaide's final representative, overwhelm two opponents head-on all by himself.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says that in a fight between amateurs, the one who strikes first wins!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says that in a fight between amateurs, the vicious one wins!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ claims that you can secure one win by surprise attack, and a second win with sheer viciousness!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ argues that if you can secure two wins with strategies unrelated to one's 'hand', then the strength of the hand only really matters for the remaining single win!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ insists that efficient resource allocation is a basic strategy in a point-based competition!]
In the first place, Team Adelaide only had seven members in total.
Compared to the other teams, which sent out their best contestants from a pool of over twenty or a dozen candidates, their talent pool was bound to be inferior.
However, if there was a way to secure just two wins even with a not-so-strong hand...
To put it another way, if it was possible to secure two points even with a hand that had received minimal effort...
...then it would also be possible to pour all the resources meant for raising those other disciples into the single most talented one.
Providing intense motivation.
Supplementing time for sleep and recovery with drugs to stretch a week's worth of training into ten days' worth.
The result of investing all those resources, accumulated little by little, into a single person while disregarding efficiency.
“—Winner! Team Adelaide von Lennart!”
Victory smiled upon them.