To participate in the tournament, two things were required,
one, a guarantor to vouch for the identity of the knight entering the tournament;
two, a warhorse and arms to use during the event.
Keldric had both.
It was uncertain what kind of guarantors knights from other regions might present, but having a recommendation from Sir Hermann was no small thing.
“Where should we go now?”
“That way should do,” came the reply.
As Keldric moved along with his group, he carefully observed the direction Sir Alan was pointing towards. There stood a large tent with a banner-like structure bearing some writing in Imperial script.
“The Heraldry Registration Office?”
“Not just anyone can enter a tournament. They need to know the participant’s family affiliation when introducing them to the audience.”
“If that’s the case, Sir Alan, perhaps it’s best you don’t go. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for a phony Brittas knight to show up?”
“Sir Henri, shut your mouth.”
While Sir Alan and Sir Henri bickered as usual, Keldric nonchalantly urged his horse forward and approached the Heraldry Registration Office.
There was an immense crowd near the arena, but surprisingly, there weren’t many knights lined up in front of the registration office.
Clearly, with some time left before the tournament officially began, knights with no sense of time or money were leisurely wandering around the area.
Thanks to this, Keldric was able to wait in line comfortably.
He had to dismount to join the queue, but with Alissa and Sir Henri taking care of Boreas’s reins, he was able to line up without worry.
Sir Alan, also dismounted, stood closely behind Keldric in the line.
“Is this your first tournament, Sir Keldric?”
“I’ve participated in trial by combat, but this is my first tournament.”
“…That’s rather unusual. Don’t knights typically gain tournament experience first?”
“Well, that’s… uh…”
When Keldric thought about it, Sir Alan had a point. His life path had indeed been unconventional.
He had crushed the mercenaries and cavalry that attacked his family estate, then joined the Mountain Goat Mercenary Corps to subdue a band of marauders from the Duchy of Lisse.
As if that weren’t enough, he had slain three rock trolls in one go and later participated in a trial by combat in Bellam to defend Sir Hermann’s honor.
The reason Keldric left his family wasn’t to seek fame or climb the ladder to become a great noble. Most of his motivation stemmed from simple curiosity about the world.
It dawned on Keldric that he had achieved quite a bit in a short period.
Of course, those accomplishments were mostly known only in the northern regions. Now that he had left the North, most people had no clue who he was.
In other words, he lacked renown.
As Sir Alan pointed out, the primary reason knights first participate in tournaments is to build a reputation.
For knights, unwavering and lofty honor was important, but so was spreading that honor far and wide.
Knights aimed to secure land grants from lords and settle down, which was considered a near-final goal.
Once a knight distinguished themselves somewhere and received even a modest rural village as their fief, it marked a successful career and great honor for their family.
To achieve that, they needed to distinguish themselves. To get such opportunities, they needed fame.
It was only natural for lords to be cautious about entrusting their lands to knights of unknown origin.
For this reason, younger knights often chose tournaments as a means to prove their skills and enhance their reputations.
Participating in a tournament carried significantly less risk of death than fighting on the battlefield. To top it off, instead of being branded a coward, a knight could be celebrated for their achievement if they emerged victorious.
Moreover, the prize money or rewards from large-scale tournaments were often substantial, making it easy to see why knights flocked to them in droves whenever the opportunity arose.
“Sir Alan, do you have experience participating in tournaments?”
“I’ve taken part a few times. I’ve won about three of them.”
“Oh…”
Strictly speaking, Sir Alan wasn’t the type of knight who lived solely for tournaments.
In fact, as a noble from the Brittas Kingdom serving the Earl of Bankeshire, he was more akin to Sir Werner of the Henser family, who had loyally served the Earl of Bogenberg for generations.
Still, even families with predefined roles often sent young heirs out to gain experience.
“To be honest,” said Sir Alan, “I was practically forced out of my house at first. My father was relentless, insisting I go out and at least participate in some tournaments.”
He couldn’t just leave his son sitting idle at home with no accomplishments to his name.
“For the first two years, I traveled within the Brittas Kingdom, attending tournaments. I entered about ten during that time, and I finally won the tenth one.”
“That’s… quite a milestone.”
Like Sir Henri, Sir Alan was 22 years old. However, unlike Keldric, who left his family at 18 and immediately began racking up achievements, Sir Alan had spent two years traveling from place to place before he managed to secure a victory in a local tournament.
“The feeling I had back then… It’s hard to put into words. I’m not good with poetic expressions,” Sir Alan admitted.
“That hardly matters. Where did you win that tournament?”
“A place called Briarford. Ever heard of it?”
“This is my first time hearing the name.”
Keldric knew little about the geography of the Brittas Kingdom, let alone the empire. He was hardly familiar with the land across the sea.
“In any case, after that, I won another tournament in the Brittas Kingdom, then made my way to the Empire. I claimed another victory at a small regional tournament in the south.”
“Are you aiming to win this one too?”
“Frankly, I don’t think I stand much of a chance at the Bogenberg Tournament. Just look at how many knights are here. To win, I’d need to stand out above all of them.”
Even so, Sir Alan’s participation likely stemmed from the sheer importance of simply being part of the tournament.
Keldric quietly nodded.
By now, the line behind them had grown significantly longer than before, filled entirely with knights. For a moment, Keldric wondered if there might be any renowned mercenaries among them, but Sir Alan’s comment put that thought to rest.
“This tournament is too big for lowly mercenaries to join”
“More than anything, the other knights wouldn’t accept it,”
“That’s true,”
Knights only fought against other knights…it was almost an unwritten rule.
While chatting with Sir Alan about the tournament, Keldric suddenly realized it was his turn.
Keldric strode purposefully toward the herald seated inside the tent.
As his massive frame cast a large shadow within the tent, the herald’s expression flickered nervously.
“W-Welcome, honorable knight. If you wish to participate in the Bogenberg Tournament, may I ask for your name and house?”
“By the grace of the divine, I am Keldric of House Bellaf,” he responded firmly.
“Sir Keldric . Is this the coat of arms of the honorable House Bellaf?”
The herald gestured toward a rather clumsily drawn illustration.
Keldric examined the image carefully. A side profile of a brown bear rearing up on its hind legs against a navy background—it matched the one painted on his surcoat.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Understood! House Bellaf… While I would never presume to question your identity, might I ask if you have a guarantor?”
“Herrmann of House Cassel. He transferred his right to participate to me. I also have a recommendation letter.”
Keldric reached into his tunic and produced two letters. One was a transfer of participation rights penned by Sir Herrmann, and the other was the recommendation letter handed to him by Ludovico.
“Everything checks out. Sir Keldric of the honorable House Bellaf, please display this banner somewhere visible.”
With his identity verified, an appropriate guarantor, and even a recommendation letter, Keldric had little difficulty securing his spot in the tournament.
While Sir Alan completed his coat of arms registration, Keldric examined the long strip of blue fabric in his hand. It wasn’t made of fine material—likely rough, low-grade linen hastily dyed.
It was used to distinguish tournament groups.
When Keldric glanced around, he noticed other knights tying similar colored strips to their surcoats near their shoulders.
Following suit, Keldric tied the blue fabric to his own shoulder.
Though he occasionally spotted other knights with the same blue fabric, Keldric refrained from approaching them.
Even if they bore the same color, he couldn’t be sure if they would be allies or opponents within the same group.
Before long, Sir Alan approached, his shoulder similarly adorned with a dyed strip of fabric. His was yellow.
“Sir Keldric . That was faster than I expected.”
“Indeed. Having a recommendation helped. It took you quite some time, though.”
“Well, if you’re not an Imperial knight, verifying your identity is no small hassle.”
The registration process for coats of arms was rigorous, intended to prevent just anyone from claiming, *‘I’m a knight!’* and entering the tournament.
This thorough vetting ensured that every knight present had earned their place.
As Keldric surveyed the other knights standing nearby, he decided to follow Sir Alan’s lead and move on.
Sizing up the skills of knights who might not even be his opponents was a pointless exercise.
His plan remained unchanged—break through anyone who stood in his way.
After all, that approach had solved most of his problems up until now.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
The tournament arena was impressively large.
Not only was it spacious, but its elongated design allowed warhorses to build up sufficient speed for jousting matches. Keldric gazed idly at the arena, which was divided in half by a sturdy rope.
The rope, tautly strung between two poles, was adorned with colorful triangular flags fluttering in the wind. It seemed likely that if a rider were to crash into it mid-gallop, they’d be sent tumbling spectacularly.
With his gauntlet removed, Keldric ’s hand gently stroked Boreas’s mane. For a horse purchased by Sir Volfen from the remote village of Carlton, Boreas was remarkably strong and intelligent.
Keldric couldn’t help but wonder if Volfen had specifically chosen the horse with him in mind—though the idea seemed far-fetched.
“Sir, still feeling nervous?”
“Well, not exactly…”
Of course, he was nervous. While Keldric was confident in his abilities, jousting was uncharted territory for him.
The match required participants to use lances provided by the tournament organizers, and lethal or overly dangerous strikes targeting critical areas were strictly forbidden.
Keldric understood why. A tournament was meant to be a relatively safe way for knights to build their reputations. If a knight were to die during the competition, it would bring disgrace upon the noble hosting the event.
Moreover, killing an opponent could tarnish the victor’s name with an infamous and dishonorable reputation.
Still, when the competition heated up, anything could happen. While Keldric trusted his reflexes, he worried about accidentally impaling an opponent through the neck.
“The balance feels… a bit strange,” he muttered, hefting the lance experimentally.
“That’s just you, Sir Keldric . They’re usually a bit on the heavier side,” replied Alyssa.
The tournament lance wasn’t the cone-tipped lance Keldric had imagined. Instead, it resembled a regular spear, featuring a flat disc near the handle. Its materials were solid, but the tip was rounded, making it unsuitable for piercing.
While the lance could certainly dent armor, it was unlikely to cause fatal injuries.
“Sir Keldric , this is your first time jousting, correct?” Alyssa asked.
“That’s right.”
“When you collide with your opponent, your lance will likely shatter. That’s how they’re designed, so don’t be alarmed.”
If the lances were engineered to break on impact, then it truly would be hard to kill anyone with them. Keldric nodded, accepting her explanation.
“What’s your match order?”
“They said I’m sixth.”
“Perfect. Let’s watch the earlier rounds together.”
Keldric followed Alyssa and Sir Henri to the spectator stands, which provided a clear view of the jousting arena.
‘This should be interesting’
The duel between Sir Henri and Sir Alan had been plenty entertaining, but watching knights collide on horseback promised to be something entirely different.
His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he gazed at the arena.
Two knights, assigned to the first match, were riding their horses into the field ahead.