Chapter 20
Eugene rested, receiving lavish hospitality until the appointed day. However, the knights who hadn't been chosen felt their pride wounded.
“Sir Gallia! Please compose yourself!”
“Quiet, you! Is this where Sir Eugene is?”
Pushing aside those who tried to stop him, he sought out Eugene and demanded a duel, which was not strange.
Even the City tried its best to control it, but it was difficult to block, as it was a Knight's honorable right.
The boiling blood of a Knight could only be cooled by another Knight.
The problem was that the Champion's Duel was being held under the auspices of a mere Free City, without the control of an authoritative Noble Lord.
“I believe a Knight would not refuse a rightful challenge! I came to defend the City and build glory, not to simply feast!”
“Haa.”
The challenger, intoxicated by honor, seemed oblivious to everything else, but for Eugene, it was a nuisance. And to make matters worse, he burst in precisely when he was having his hair trimmed, which annoyed him.
“I bear the future of the City and the expectations of those who invited me. To jeopardize that even slightly for personal glory is not an honorable act.”“W-well, that may be so...”
Since he declined by presenting a valid reason, the opponent had nothing more to say.
“I am in the middle of having my hair styled, so I would appreciate it if you left.”
Eugene was reclining in a barber's chair. Homi, who had been enthusiastically displaying her skills, frowned. She had been delighted by the high-quality scissors, which she had never even seen in the countryside.
Perhaps realizing he had committed an impropriety, the opponent retreated for now.
“They’re certainly a spirited bunch.”
“Hmph!”
Homi, with a displeased expression, gently ran her fingers through her Liege Lord's freshly trimmed hair. Her gentle touch held a tenderness that was hard to believe coming from someone so young.
Ever since fate brought them together, she had always been the one to trim Eugene's hair and beard.
“Distinguished individuals will be arriving from various places, so you’ll need to make a good impression.”
He nodded.
For Free Knights without their own domains, appearance was as important as Swordsmanship.
On a smaller scale, it was advantageous to catch the eye of a Feudal Lord for a Vassal Contract, and on a larger scale, there were cases where one could achieve instant success by becoming a Son-in-law.
* * *
As many Knights had been invited, visits continued the next day.
“Sir Knight, are you not in pain?”
It was when Eugene and Homi were lying side-by-side, receiving massages.
“It’s just refreshing. Among all the hospitality I’ve received since coming to the City, this is the best.”
“Heh heh heh!”
Even the Maid chuckled softly at his un-knight-like smooth tongue.
As if to shatter that atmosphere, a booming shout was heard.
“I am Gart, a Knight of the Domen Family! I cannot accept being excluded as a Champion! Now, a duel...”
“Alright, alright, I’ll face you.”
However, it wasn't just uninvited guests.
“Sir Karas? Were you also invited?” “Yes. And I’ve decided to be that Knight’s Champion on my own accord. If you wish to contend, I’ll face you instead.” “Wait, just a moment!”
Eugene, who was able to rest comfortably thanks to Karas, smiled contentedly.
“Our first meeting was a bit of a mishap, but he’s a good fellow.”
Cressi, who was the most approachable, left the Mansion and disappeared to avoid challenges. It was a wise decision, as every Knight who came seemed stronger than Cressi.
However, Homi wondered why another Knight hadn't been assigned to Cressi's place from the start.
“It can’t be helped. Just look at the faces of those stubborn fools. They’re all obstinate and think they’re the best, don’t they? If you tell people like that, “A distinguished visitor has arrived, so please step aside,” it would cause an uproar, wouldn’t it?”
Regardless of their strength, they would immediately draw their swords and challenge to a duel. That’s the nature of a Knight.
The duels outside were quickly decided.
“I’ve lost!”
Karas, moving swiftly and unleashing a fierce assault, blocked his opponent’s weapon with a main gauche at the decisive moment. The Knight was defeated helplessly by his dazzling Dual-Wielding Swordsmanship.
Guests brimming with competitive spirit continued to arrive.
“I am Detri, a Knight of the Valmont Family...”
“Valmont of the Zweihänder? Pleasure to meet you! I’ve always wanted to cross swords with you.”
“Wait, who are you, Sir?”
Each time, Karas promptly cut them off.
He wasn't just skilled in Swordsmanship; he also utilized his gauntleted fists and kicks organically at opportune moments.
Thwack!
“Ugh!”
Detri, struck in the side by the iron fist, gasped for air and lost his balance.
Detri, who wielded a large two-handed sword, had his defeat sealed the moment his first attack missed. This was because he was forced in an instant into Close-Quarters Combat with Karas, a style he was unfamiliar with.
“I-I’ve lost!”
Before he could properly display his skill, he was outmaneuvered from behind by Martial Arts, and the blade of a main gauche touched his throat.
“He’s certainly overwhelming among the Invited Knights.”
Karas’s overflowing confidence was not mere bluster. He was truly a Knight who had built his reputation solely through duels.
Karas, striking a pose like an actor after a play, received the victor's applause. A Maid, with a flushed expression, wiped his sweat with a towel.
It seemed he wasn't just acting out of goodwill towards Eugene, but also simply enjoying his hobby. After all, the rumor that he was kind to subordinates but harsh to fellow Knights was true.
With everyone maintaining their peak physical condition, the Hall War was finally just one day away.
* * *
Just as Boneyard hoped for victory, the Gord Nobles of the Gord Kingdom were also confident of their own triumph.
“It was so irritating to see them try to chip away at the annual tribute little by little. I’m glad we can teach them a lesson this time.”
Andar, the Host, raised his glass and laughed.
“These muscular Merchants should teach those piggish Merchants a lesson about being penny wise and pound foolish!”
At the banquet held the day before, the Nobles laughed and chatted as if they had already won.
“We can’t confirm our victory just yet, however.”
“Oh, what’s there to worry about? It’s just a mere City, after all. And they were busy scrambling around, trying to find help.”
“That is true.”
Even the cautious Nobles were merely restraining their excessive excitement, not doubting the victory itself. This was because the disparity in preparation time and capabilities between the two sides was so vast.
“The Roman King certainly did us a favor.”
While most Royal Families merely extracted legitimacy from the Ancient Kingdom, Rome, in the center of the Continent, went a step further.
They enshrined the Ancient Kingdom’s banner, the “Duty of Balance,” in the first chapter of their legal code, and exerted influence in all directions.
“They’d interfere and lecture whenever a fight broke out, and then, claiming a Monster Horde was rampant, they’d arbitrarily raise an Army and demand to cross the Border.”
For the Gord Nobles, who possessed the blood of raiders, Rome was inevitably an enemy nation, constantly thwarting them at every turn.
“They should know their limits when they meddle. Aren’t they truly a thorn in our side? And despite all that, they have power, too, ugh.”
However, the might of Rome, with whom they shared a border, could not be ignored. Even if they were hateful, they had to endure it out of fear of their strength; what else could they do?
But then, an unexpected turn of events occurred.
The Roman King suddenly declared an Empire, turning the nation upside down. He ascended as Emperor and was pushing for an Imperial Power Strengthening Policy. For the Nobles who had been living peacefully, it was like a bolt from the blue.
Seizing the opportunity amidst the chaos, all sorts of Forces scrambled for their own interests, and the sparks flew even to Boneyard on the Continental Periphery.
“Alright, everyone, to the Roman King—no, I suppose we should say Emperor now, shouldn’t we? A toast to the Roman Emperor!”
“Cheers!”
As Andar raised his glass, spirited toasts were exchanged.
“But I wonder why he suddenly declared himself Emperor.”
“It’s for legitimacy. He became King by sheer luck, as his elder brothers successively died in battle or abroad. He was so tormented by the Great Nobles that he made a desperate gamble out of spite.”
“They say it’s already on the verge of civil war. At the last Imperial Court Meeting, the phrase “Rebel scum!” was uttered no less than six times.”
All the Kingdoms, Free Cities, Mercenaries, and Knights were paying close attention to the center of the Continent.
If a Large-Scale War broke out in Rome, opportunities for profit and loss, honor and advancement, would spring up like mushrooms after rain.
“Surely he won’t back down, will he? A Monarch of a nation couldn’t possibly lack that much courage.”
“Absolutely not.”
“He will either crush all his opponents and ascend as Hegemon, or be dethroned; it’s one or the other. Backing down is out of the question. If he’s dethroned, his remaining life won’t be peaceful.”
The title of “descendant of the Ancient Kingdom” holds deep meaning on this Continent. Aside from foreign ethnic groups, no one dared to call himself or herself Emperor, especially not Roman.
“Good, good. Now we can comfortably enjoy tomorrow’s fight.”
The Champions prepared by the Gord Nobles were Knights renowned for their bravery in the Kingdom.
With their Ethnic Group’s characteristic sturdy physiques, they would make a blood-red blizzard erupt on the Battlefield when they donned armor and swung their axes.
In a Dismounted State, they were reapers who could gain an advantage against any Knight on the Continent. No matter which Knight Boneyard had invited, the knight would fall, gushing fountains of blood.
* * *
*The next day, the path taken by Boneyard’s Champions to the Duel Arena was modest.*
Passing Citizens, boys touting for pocket money, customers and Merchants haggling to save a single coin—everything was as usual.
Only the City Guard, who also lived by the sword, and a certain number of Citizens solemnly bowed their heads and prayed for victory. Their number amounted to only about 30 percent.
“Is this the usual atmosphere? I expected a more supportive mood.”
“There are various circumstances.”
Panis smiled bitterly at Eugene's question.
“Workers and travelers from outside, and those living in the City with nothing to lose, are merely watching from the sidelines. Since it’s not a war, there won’t be any looting.”
Eugene had also considered this much.
“If we lose, the City’s upper echelons will be replaced, and those eyeing the vacant positions will be burning with ambition for advancement.” “That’s a rather grim story.” “Furthermore, the belief that Gord will win is dominant.”
While there is some information control in the City, most Citizens naturally rely on rumors.
“On our side, it’s just one City, but on their side, it’s a Noble Alliance. We were in a defensive position, while they were the aggressors. It’s obvious to people which side has the advantage.”
“If they cheer for us and we lose, they might face repercussions in the City later.”
“Precisely.”
Panis pointed to the Citizens who were seeing them off.
“Only Citizens who have long lived in the City and have strong pride or those who run businesses cheer without worrying about consequences.”
Panis’s face, as he recounted the sad tale, was calm. This was because his faith in Eugene and Karas was unwavering.
After they left the City and traveled for about two hours, the appointed location appeared. In a Hall War, the attacked party has the right to decide where the battle will take place.
“There, I see our opponents. They’re built like bears, but their greed is like that of pigs.”
Indeed, given their ethnic group, all the Gord Champions were quite bulky.
“Is this what it felt like for Roman Soldiers facing the Germanic tribes? Given their size, it makes sense their nation remains intact even bordering Barsia in the north.”
Eugene, who had always looked down on his opponents wherever he went, for the first time found someone larger than himself.
“That’s Knight Volks. He’s the opponent we must be most wary of.”
Panis pointed to the giant, who had a two-handed axe slung over his shoulder.
“I implore you. Please, protect the City.”
Panis trusted his hand, but he was naturally a man with the blood of a Merchant. When Panis saw the man-eating bear-like Gord Knight, an instinctive fear rose within him.
“Actually, the truly troublesome ones are the other two. Lipton is one thing, but it is another to think Badel would also come.”
Karas, with a troubled expression, pointed to the two Champions behind Volks: a Knight with a sword and shield, and a Knight with an axe and shield.
“To recognize them immediately, they must be famous.” “The fellow with the sword is a Knight named Badel, a Scion of a Renowned Swordsmanship Family that has continued for 700 years. Lipton is known for his excellent Shieldmanship, boasting the best in Gord, a place famous for its shield-users.” “What do you think would happen if you fought all three?”
Karas shrugged.
“Volks is an extreme case. Either I win without a scratch, albeit drenched in sweat, or, conversely, I go to the afterlife with one swing of his axe.”
“He doesn’t seem like an opponent one can simply exchange blows with.”
When he lived in Kingdom's End, or when he was with the Beard Mercenary Band, all the axes he had seen were Logging Axes.
In contrast, that axe was made from the start to cleave men or horses. Its blade alone was longer than Eugene's head and sharpened enough to shave with.
“Badel or Lipton will definitely draw blood. I think I can win, but if I’m unlucky, I might lose a finger or two. The Gord fellows really prepared properly, didn’t they?”
Separate from his pride in his own strength, Karas objectively assessed the odds of victory.
“I could change the order if you wish.”
“To back down here would not be the act of a Knight. I’ll defeat all three, even if it’s just out of sheer grit.”
knights did not practice religious life as fervently as Priests, but in some ways, they possessed an even greater devout faith, a faith that pursued honor by risking one's life. The depth of this faith led knights down a stronger path. This alone was a commonality among all Knights, transcending nations and ethnic groups.
Eugene's party entered the Duel Arena. Boneyard's fate, the Knights' lives, and their glory would be redefined today, here.
“The disparity in strength between the two sides is severe.”
Karas was undoubtedly a strong individual, not inferior to any Gord Champion, but he was alone.
The other Invited Knights of Boneyard were clearly inferior in skill to those four. If Eugene hadn't been there, defeat would have been certain.