Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - Champion (4)

The knight who was said to be called from a distant place ultimately could not come to Bonyard.

"It's a pity, as I wanted to meet what kind of person they were."

"As the distance is what it is, I didn't have great expectations, Sir Eugene. Right now, more than that..."

Panis looked at Cressy with a troubled face.

This was because Cressy insisted on going out to the dueling ground even though there were better ones among the invited knights.

'If it's the disciple of the Prophetic Knight and Karas, perhaps I won't even have to step out. If worst comes to worst, I can just surrender appropriately.'

This was Cressy's thought. The unit of money that comes in just from stepping onto the dueling ground becomes different.

'Anyway, if the situation is such that both knights lose and even I have to step out, it would be the same even if other fellows from the city went out.'

It was an excuse for self-consolation, but the frustrating part was that it wasn't particularly wrong.

Regardless of their skill level, when a knight said they would fight honorably, the host could not tell them to stay out.

"Welcome! I hope you've prepared well during this time."

Count Andar, who was already gulping down wine, laughed. It was a smile laden with the belief that they would never lose.

The location for a trial by combat varies. If it's a fight between ordinary knights, it's held in a suitable vacant lot, and powerful nobles might rent a colosseum to hold it grandly.

Bonyard, whether they won or lost, did not want to blow the incident out of proportion noisily. So they chose an abandoned temple near the city.

One by one, guests arrived and sat around the seats prepared around the dueling ground.

"No, are you already drinking wine?"

"Then what should I do? I'm in a good mood, so I keep wanting to drink something."

"Watching a fight should also be done with a clear mind to be exciting. Please stop drinking."

"I get it! I get it!"

The Gord nobles exchanged greetings while laughing together.

"They seem to think they've already won. Those arrogant fellows anyway."

"They've prepared thoroughly, so they must be overflowing with confidence. To those fellows, we probably look like low-born ones who just play with some money."

"Look at that stature. What on earth do they eat to grow that large? It's not that I don't trust our knights, but comparing them, it's just..."

The prominent figures of Bonyard's side spoke in hushed voices due to the difference in status and power.

Though they spoke cautiously, it reached Eugene's ears perfectly well. For he had been closing his eyes and heightening his senses ahead of the battle.

Shuuu, thud.

The sound of Karas sharpening his blade with a whetstone beside him heightened his concentration appropriately.

"I know you're confident in your strength, but shouldn't you loosen your muscles? If you keep staying still like that, your body will stiffen."

Karas asked with a face full of curiosity.

There were knights who meditated. However, it was his first time seeing someone keep their eyes closed still ahead of a duel. In that time, it would be better to observe the gaps in the opponent's armor or the length of their weapon.

"Doesn't every knight have a different way of approaching a fight?"

"It's just that I'm curious."

Whoosh!

"Kwahh!"

Across from them, a Gord Champion swung his weapon and warmed up his body amidst the cheers of the spectators.

"Well, it's much better than running wild distractedly like that."

To Karas, who valued speed and technique over mindless display of strength, it was merely contemptible.

"Since the blade has been sharpened sufficiently, it is time to sharpen my senses. This alone cannot be done in advance."

"...I'm asking just in case, but is it something like being able to predict the future like Sir Godfrey?"

Eugene half-opened his closed eyes.

"I wasn't asking sincerely, really!"

At the look that viewed him as a fool, asking 'Are you kidding?', Karas felt sheepish.

Having come out into the world, he learned that there were more people than imagined who thought Godfrey really fought while receiving divine revelations. Faith and superstition... should he call it befitting an era where both could never be discarded?

"Karas. How about reconsidering the order? I acknowledge that you are strong, but it looks like it will be hard to remain unscathed against those three. They are of a different caliber than the fellows who were at the city mansion."

Eugene spoke while closing his eyes.

When Karas had stepped forward to be the vanguard a few days ago, he had liked it inwardly, but over these past few days, he had grown fond of him.

"It seems the compatibility isn't very good either."

Karas was a type who fought focused on technique using a rapier and main-gauche.

The mindless two-handed axe Volks swung carried the risk of the weapon being damaged regardless of parrying.

Against Lipton, who was famous for the best shield technique, one could not engage in close-range combat. If he pushed in with his shield and struck down, even the nimble Karas would be in trouble.

"There's no need for worry."

But the rogue of Samur, whose gallbladder had come out through his belly, was nonchalant.

"I don't hunt monsters, nor do I go out to the battlefield or tournaments. Yet there is one reason why I quickly became famous."

Karas spun the rapier and main-gauche in both hands.

"Because I spent all my time going around putting holes in the bodies of knights. Fame came rolling in most efficiently this way."

"Along with grudges. Don't you think you're still alive and well until now because of the Cruz Family?"

"Since they thought so and disowned me, several have targeted me. Though none have succeeded in laying a hand on my body yet."

Karas, who had paused for a moment, let out a sigh.

"Except for you."

"There's one more. My squire."

"What?"

Karas looked back at Homi. She was waiting quietly, and her tail, which usually swayed at least a little, was completely still. Instead, a small laugh was heard.

"By any chance, did a lump form on the back of your head?"

"There is one, but why...?"

Karas stroked the small lump on his head. It was a wound that had almost all healed now.

"After you fainted at the tavern, Homi threw you. At that time, your head hit the table and made a loud noise."

"...So that's what happened."

"How about considering the debt in your heart as cleanly gone with this? And stop bothering me."

"Well, fine. Since there is someone ahead to take out my anger upon."

Afterward, Karas also did not strike up a conversation any further.

* * *

Eugene did not consider the Gord Champions a threat.

Unlike being deployed for monster hunting or large-scale combat, a one-on-one was absolutely advantageous to him.

However, if it was something he had not experienced, it was only natural to make full preparations. Since it was his first trial by combat, he wanted to engage with peak senses.

A short time after the last guest arrived, the hourglass ran out. The moment that would determine the fate of Bonyard City had arrived.

"It's finally starting."

Count Andar rubbed his palms and swallowed salivation.

On the left were the Gord officials and Champions, and on the right were the Bonyard officials and Champions.

The seats of honor built at the top front were occupied by the guests invited as witnesses. There were those with lower status than nobles, but it was an old tradition to yield the seats of honor to the observers.

A noble from Roman stood on the platform.

"Today we are gathered here to receive judgment from the gods."

He shouted with a solemn voice.

The speech before a duel is handled by a noble, a priest, or a knight of high reputation.

Since the stake was large this time, a knight couldn't be involved, and being a greedy duel, the priests also declined. A Roman noble, who often gets involved in such matters, was the right person.

"What will happen here is watched over by the conscience of both sides, the eyes of the observers, and the gods. There should not be a single point of falsehood or dishonor. Once the sacred judgment is handed down, one must submit to the outcome."

Everyone present in the venue offered a prayer to their respective gods.

"Now it is time to praise the honorable Champions."

The spectators sent applause and cheers to the Champions they supported.

In any case, the heat was hotter on the Gord side. Because a giant axe warrior was something that showed good performance visually.

As both Eugene and Karas performed their tasks as if they had no interest in the response, the Bonyard supporters lost heart.

"Now it begins. The gods are just, so let us leave the judgment entirely to them. What we shall crave from them is only mercy! I wish you luck!"

The Roman noble stepped back, and tension began to permeate in earnest.

"Well then, shall I go out?"

Karas was about to step into the dueling ground.

"Wait!"

At that moment, Count Andar held up his hand.

The eyebrows of the observers twitched. Once the representative's declaration is finished, there should only be the fight of the Champions. Another person intervening was against custom.

"What is the matter, Count Andar?"

The Roman noble who had delivered the speech asked. It was a tone that sounded unpleasant to anyone listening.

"As Your Excellency has delivered in the speech, the judgment of the gods is more sacred than anything. So, I wish to add one more divine will to this important duel."

"Add the will of God? What is that?"

The Roman noble's tone softened, perhaps because he became curious about the unfamiliar proposal.

"It's simple. Let's also leave the order of stepping into the dueling ground to the gods. With that in mind, we haven't even decided on the sequence."

Count Andar shrugged his shoulders while looking at the three Champions on the Gord side.

"It will be a headache to decide the order now. Since they are all knights with strong pride."

The Roman noble bit his lip.

'Those Gord fellows without dignity anyway.'

It was a clear rudeness, but he couldn't possibly order something like a halt to the duel.

"What is the method?"

"Haha! It is time to show the tradition our people love."

When Count Andar signaled, a servant brought six sticks in the form of lots.

A Gord noble, possessing the blood of both sea raiders and merchants, liked a method such as this that mercenaries would prefer.

"Will Bonyard accept this?"

"What choice do we have?"

The Magistrate, who was the representative, answered coldly.

Since there was a difference in power, they had no choice but to accept. Rather, this might be better. As it could be used as a justification to prevent Gord from acting foolishly when they lost.

'We even accepted the drawing of lots that you proposed at whim. Can you act this despicably toward the sacred result?'

If one said that, they would have nothing to say even if they had ten mouths.

"Then I shall take it as having been accepted. Let the Champions from both sides each draw a lot."

Count Andar, with a smirk, held out three sticks each in his pan-lid-like hands.

For Gord, all the squires came out, and for Bonyard, Karas and Cressy stepped out directly. For Eugene, who had a squire, only Homi went and received one.

"Dammit."

Eugene heard Cressy swearing with his sharpened hearing. For his plan to hide behind the two strong knights and only collect the compensation had collapsed.

"Everyone has drawn. I wish you luck."

Count Andar laughed heartily and returned to his seat.

"A Count, you say? Hehehe."

"It's creepy, so please stop."

"Count Andar! I shall offer a glass to Your Excellency."

"Ah, I said stop!"

When Count Andar took his seat, the nearby nobles teased him.

The kingdoms of this world originally used different title systems of their own.

However, since the Ancient Kingdom used a five-tier nobility system, the royal families who wished to utilize that legitimacy also granted titles based on the five tiers.

As this continued for a long time, the five-tier system permeated throughout the entire continent.

However, in Gord, where they were strongly proud of their own bloodline, the custom remained of using only two titles: King and War Lord.

It was a culture that was gradually disappearing, and externally for diplomacy, they used the five tiers, though.

"Erai!"

"God dammit..."

A disappointed Karas and a lamenting Cressy. It seemed Karas had drawn a later sequence, and Cressy number one.

"Number three... luck indeed doesn't follow. Sir Cressy. I wish you luck."

Karas said while standing beside Eugene.

"..."

Cressy donned his helmet with a somber face. It seemed the fellow knight's encouragement didn't even reach his ears.

'That damn Gord noble!'

Cressy faced the first Champion of the opposing side, who was staring him down with burning eyes while holding a two-handed axe.

"Khah!"

A roar as if he would chew him up and eat him alive.

His heart sank at that majesty. It was Volks, the largest and most ferocious of the three.

Even so, if he fled in the current situation, his life as a knight would be over. He also had a large gambling debt, so if even the mantle of a knight were stripped off, his life would be in danger.

'Dammit!'

Since he approached the match with such a mindset from the start, the conclusion was obvious.

"Wait! I surren..."

Not long after the start of combat, when he was cornered, Cressy declared surrender. But the axe blade fell, cutting through his shout.

Crunch!

"Agh!"

Cressy's sword fell to the ground, and blood poured out like a fountain.

Having been split from his right shoulder down to his chest by the large axe blade, he rolled on the ground.

"Eek!"

"Oh, dear."

"Hahahahaha!"

The noble ladies screamed and buried their faces in the bosoms of their lovers and husbands. The Bonyard figures groaned with frustrated faces. Gord was in a festive atmosphere, clapping and stomping their feet.

"Gurgle."

As servants quickly dragged away the dying Cressy, a long trail of blood followed.

The physician standing by shook his head. It was a severe wound he could not possibly treat. All he could do was sprinkle plenty of strong painkillers to reduce the pain on his way.

"The condition of his armor wasn't complete. A thin chain with broken links can't block that kind of axe."

Karas felt pity. In any case, it left a bitter taste for a knight who had participated as an ally to die so fruitlessly.

"It is the victory of Sir Volks! Honor to the victor! Mourning to the defeated!"

The Roman noble shouted.

If the losing side is alive, modifiers like encouragement or a quick recovery are handed down instead of mourning. But that just now was a fatal wound to anyone who saw it.

"Sir Volks says he will continue to accumulate honor!"

When Volks's squire shouted, a roar erupted from the Gord spectator seats. Conversely, the Bonyard spectator seats were in a funeral-like atmosphere.

While everyone's gazes gathered on the next challenger, Eugene, he opened his eyes. The brown eyes he inherited from his mother looked at Volks coldly.