Chapter 78

Chapter 78 - Advent (2)

Tournament.

It is the greatest event in the festivals of this era that cannot be left out. A sport of violence and glory enjoyed by everyone regardless of low or high status.

"The differences in methods per country are huge."

The tournament cultures of each country heard from Valda were interesting.

The northern and central regions of Roman, relatively safe from foreign powers, mainly feature elegant jousting matches.

On the other hand, the West, South, and East, which border other countries, held group battles serving dual purpose as war training.

Gord lacks horsemanship, and the audience liked the physical combat between knights. Thanks to that, they dismount their horses and fight similar to a colosseum.

"I like the Gord method."

"As expected, you are peculiar. Knights of other countries thoroughly despise that method."

"Because the influence of luck is minimized. It's a pure battle of skill among knights."

The proud Barcians treated the martial arts tournaments of other countries collectively like children's play, and there was a good reason for it.

"They use real swords?"

"Because there are those who say the smell of blood exuding from a tournament is the ultimate delicacy."

Barcians could endure the lack of wine in the arena, but could not endure the lack of flowing blood.

"If knights die off in droves doing that, wouldn't it be a national loss?"

"Surprisingly, the number of deaths is not that high. Would it be around 20% more compared to other countries?"

"They use real swords, yet such control is possible?"

"Barcia's tournaments have referees."

"Oh!"

Eugene laughed at the culture where barbarism and advanced civilization coexist.

"If one doesn't obey the referee's stop command during a match, they are punished with near-treason. So even blood-boiling knights restrain themselves in time."

It was a culture where one could glimpse traces of agonizing over providing the crowd with the joy of bloodshed without gnawing away at national competitiveness.

"I thought for sure you would participate, but it's truly unexpected."

Meanwhile, everyone including Marbas was surprised. Because Eugene did not apply to participate in the tournament.

"I have no interest."

"To a knight, doesn't even imagining a tournament make your blood boil?"

Prize money, the audience's passionate response, honor, word-of-mouth in noble society.

A tournament is an event directly connected to a knight's success even more so than slaying monsters or active roles in war.

Eugene had passed the stage of becoming successful through a tournament, but isn't a knight a creature that endlessly covets fame and glory?

"I'm not inclined toward jousting matches at all."

"Why?"

"Because it's dangerous."

"Are you joking right now?"

"I am serious."

Marbas became dumbfounded. He had only ever seen Eugene display an appearance of losing his sense of fear all this time.

Like charging single-handedly at numerous pirates when saving Baron Jones, although there was horse archer support.

Compared to the acts of smashing a rampaging Golem where even a graze means death, or sitting on and beating a Death Knight to death, jousting looked rather safe.

"Strictly speaking, I hate that luck intervenes a lot besides skill or strength. I also totally dislike the weapons."

Jousting uses easily breakable wooden lances. It is for visual entertainment and sense of impact, score judging, and securing the rider's safety through shock mitigation.

But if you are unlucky, broken splinters could bounce into the helmet hole and make you one-eyed. There were also those who died from being pierced in vital spots the armor couldn't cover properly, like the neck and armpits.

"I wouldn't know if the prize money were at least tremendous, but it isn't to that extent. Someday if I go to a place holding group battle tournaments, I will participate then."

"I feel like I've gotten to know you better today."

"Master Godfrey also said something similar in the past."

At the sight of the young knight smoothly brushing it off with ease, Marbas also laughed.

"Yes. One must have such an attitude to live a long life. Honestly watching you fight, I felt a sense of anxiety, but this sets me at ease a bit."

No matter how mighty a being's body and soul are, dying from a single mistake is a knight's life. Rather than putting forth only courage, having a shrewd side like that was better.

"Plus, since I am not participating in the tournament, there are merits in its own way. Isn't it comfortable making friends?"

At the banquet, Eugene exchanged cups of alcohol while greeting various knights.

Unlike participating knights who engaged in wars of nerves due to being potential competitors, spectators could socialize with their minds at ease.

"Doesn't this tournament have a higher chance of success than the previous ones? Competition is bound to be fierce."

In the large battle between the Nobles' Faction and Emperor's Faction, several knights died as well. Skilled and highly renewed individuals were no exception.

As such, the probability of winning is higher than before, and even if one doesn't necessarily win, appropriately showing skill would allow one to become a vassal of a noble lord.

The lords trying to fill empty spots and the knights trying to enter those empty spots were all paying attention to this tournament.

* * *

The massive arena is tightly packed with people. Aside from nobles and celebrities sitting in premium seats, commoners also flocked in droves.

Enjoyable entertainment quells the dissatisfaction of the masses, and the crowds' cheers become the knights' vitality. It is a tradition everywhere to be lenient to commoners during tournaments.

The murmuring from all directions subsided when Duke Ismar raised his hand on the podium.

"I express my gratitude to everyone who attended this place today to bless the tournament."

At the Duke's words, people bowed their heads or placed hands on their chests showing courtesy.

"Though the immediate threat has been repelled, the civil war has still not ended. At times like this, we must unite even more and also train."

It was different from when he conversed with Eugene. It rang loudly throughout the arena how such volume came out from that thin body.

"I hope this tournament becomes an opportunity for new rookie knights to make their names known. Gentlemen! I wish you all good luck in battle!"

When the Duke proclaimed the opening of the jousting match, thunderous cheers poured out.

Pururuk!

Two knights mounted on horses covered in splendid drapes glared at each other.

Even focusing fully on the opponent wouldn't be enough, yet their gazes kept shifting to the surroundings. To the audience visible through the slits of their helmets.

Not to mention Duke Ismar, the enthusiastic cheering of countless lords, noble ladies, and incalculable commoners were focusing entirely on them.

Would there ever be another day they could receive so many noble glances and the cheers of the masses?

'I shall definitely win!'

'I have trained for this very day!'

The blood flowing through their veins boiled to the point of exploding.

Flap! Flap!

Along with the sound of trumpets, the men holding flags on the podium waved them with all their might.

"Glory to the Duke!"

"For the North!"

The two knights aimed their lances and charged at each other.

"Uwaaaaaah!"

At the start of the match, the audience's cheers also reached their peak, but the knights could not hear them. Because the moment the horses ran, their eardrums closed off and they became isolated from the world.

Thump thump!

One's own heartbeat, the lance handle tucked under the armpit, and the tip of the lance swaying at the end aiming for the opponent.

These 3 things were all the knight could perceive. Extreme concentration erased the entire world surrounding the knight.

Smash!

Crack!

The bluntly treated lances simultaneously clashed against the opponents and shattered.

"Wahahahaha!"

"That's it! That's the stuff!"

At that exhilarating sight, the audience unanimously went wild and stomped their feet.

The left knight was hit on the shield, but the right knight was hit on the helmet and fell off the horse just like that.

Fortunately, he didn't die, so he was supported by his squire and servants and struggled to leave the arena.

"Sir! Are you alright?"

"Uuuugh."

Whether he had a concussion, he couldn't get his bearings even after taking off his helmet.

Dudududu.

Bang!

Some knight got hit in the chest by a lance and ended up in a posture lying flat on the horse's back. He didn't fall off, but looked half-fainted.

The horse continued walking as its owner's foot caught in the stirrup hit its body. Then it stopped in front of the arena wall.

"Hahaha!"

"Sir Knight! Snap out of it! Did you not sober up from the alcohol you drank at the banquet?"

At the somewhat funny sight, commoner spectators threw mockings they wouldn't even dare to imagine normally.

The knight in question was a poor free knight traveling alone, so a little while later servants sent by the hosts took him away.

"Cough! Ke-hough!"

The knight, who barely regained his senses, coughed incessantly. Stopping midway, he even vomited, and seeing a large amount of red blood mixed in, it seems he suffered a serious injury.

"That one will die suffering."

Hind, who was guarding behind Eugene, said with a pitiful face.

According to what he learned at the House of Knights, those were the symptoms of severely damaged internal organs.

In this era where the medical system, especially treatment for internal injuries, is inadequate, it was practically a death sentence.

"Sir Halls is cool!"

"Please look this way!"

While the loser left miserably fearing the confirmed death, the winner received all the praises by himself. A true winner-takes-all!

'As expected, it's a good thing I didn't participate.'

Eugene resolved not to do jousting in the future as well.

Running down a set line aiming a spear means unconditionally giving one's body to the opponent's attack. Going like this, setting aside skill, if luck wasn't with you a disaster could not but occur.

To Eugene's standpoint, the real sword trial by combat he had at Bonyard felt much safer.

* * *

A tournament is an amusement all people of this era enjoy with one mind, but it's not necessarily that only pure-intentioned people come.

There are also many who came harboring impure thoughts to scam the gathered crowds or aim for pickpocketing.

- Whatever means necessary, ruin the victory festival.

Among them were also those who infiltrated receiving the Emperor's secret order.

"Do we really have to execute this?"

"It's His Majesty's royal command."

"However, this is too dishonorable a trick."

The current situation where the Emperor's Faction in the North is annihilated and the pirates of the inland sea are also repelled. There was nothing the Emperor could do with military force. All that remained was terrorism through magic.

The magician and knights. Both were loyal subjects, but their attitudes upholding orders were opposites.

"Then you should have argued with His Majesty in the capital? You kept your mouths shut then, and followed all the way here just to tuck your tails in?"

"..."

"I'm joking. Loosen your expressions."

He said to loosen expressions, but the one glaring like an ice block is Magician Simon.

Getting stared at by his eyes, the knights who had been through various real combats also became speechless. It was a sensation where an unknown energy that couldn't be cut or blocked by steel was gripping their lifelines.

"If we just leave those traitorous bastards to enjoy the festival, wouldn't His Majesty's authority fall to the ground in the North?"

"That is true, but."

Even if it had fallen as much as it could, the success of the tournament and the employment of rookie knights arising from it.

This is a symbolic event driving a wedge. The Emperor desperately wanted to thwart it. While at the same time saving face by diminishing Duke Ismar's dignity.

"Even still, for innocent nobles to die off en masse is simply too..."

"Hahaha!"

Realizing what the knights were worried about, Simon laughed.

"If such powerful magic were possible, I'd have used it in the war, why mobilize it for this kind of backroom scheme? The most it will do is ruin the weather to halt the festival."

"Ah, is that what it was?"

The knights' faces became much more comfortable.

Because what they had thought of was an evil magic where a poison cloud would suddenly appear in the arena and people would die indiscriminately.

'These stupid bastards whose only ability is swinging swords.'

Simon was dumbfounded. If that were possible, magicians would have ruled the world a long time ago, wouldn't they?

It was only funny seeing them swayed by imaginations they wouldn't have if they had even minimal common sense even not knowing magic.

Of course, the more the knights exaggerated and revered magic, the more comfortable it was for him to work, so he didn't bother correcting them.

Simon took out a magical tool sealing ancient magic from his embrace. It is loot obtained in the process of scouring ruins by the Emperor's command.

- It's not magic that will show power on the battlefield. It won't help His Majesty's grand wish either.

It was something handed over after an appraisal by the summoner assisting the Emperor in the capital.

"Damn it."

A sigh escaped Simon regarding his own situation.

The budget to be used for hiring magicians, knights, and spies and searching for information. Such spare capability should have been spent entirely on the war with the Nobles' Faction.

- Your Majesty. You must not waste manpower and resources on a mirage like the Moving Castle like now. You must focus on the war itself...

- Shut up! I will not listen anymore, so properly carry out the order I gave!

To think he gave loyal advice, only to receive a thunderous scolding and end up in a position where he had to prove his loyalty with a terrorism mission.

At least being able to personally experience the mysterious magic of the ancient kingdom was a minimum consolation.

"If you use that, does it summon rain clouds or something?"

"It's different from that. It's magic connecting the present world and a shallow part of the other world temporarily."

"?"

"Just like how water in high places flows to low places and wind blows from high air pressure to low air pressure."

"??"

"Since worlds of different spiritual pressure are connected, a spiritual storm will rush into the present world. It should be enough to just ruin the matches."

"???"

At the expressions of the knights who collectively became idiots, Simon laughed with satisfaction.

Seeing those dull faces, the welling sense of superiority relieved his stress a little.

"Let's finish quickly and return."

Simon unsealed the ancient magic.

It's an extremely simple mission.

Infiltrate the arena and activate the magical tool. Waiting until the present world and a shallow other world draw close and a weather disaster occurs is the end.

But occasionally. Really occasionally, ridiculous coincidences overlap and draw out unimaginable anomalies.

People call those things the turning points of history.

The variable Simon couldn't think of was Eugene, who was observing the tournament in the arena.

"...?"

He momentarily received a feeling of someone watching from the sky. As if an existence from an unimaginably distant place was observing this side with a telescope.

"What's wrong?"

"No. It feels like my imagination."

At Valda's question, Eugene shook his head. The gaze felt from beyond the sky quickly disappeared.

Strictly speaking, it didn't disappear but moved on, but there was no way Eugene could know that much.

The gaze beyond the sky had captured the lighthouse it so desperately longed for, and now its next target. It was scanning the surroundings to search the wide plains.

"Great. It's working properly."

Simon laughed with satisfaction.

Ruining Duke Ismar's tournament as commanded by the Emperor will definitely succeed.

However, it was scheduled to happen in a completely different form than what the Emperor had hoped for.