The jousting matches on the second day of the tournament proceeded without any unusual variables.
Keldric was scheduled for the 24th, 31st, and 34th matches. All three knights he faced were more experienced and physically imposing than Sir Bruno, whom he had fought on the first day.
However, Keldric defeated all three without much difficulty. As the tournament progressed, the opponents became increasingly challenging, but Keldric was still clearly dominant.
“Impressive, Sir. Facing three opponents in one day is no small feat,” remarked Sir Henri. Indeed, it was an impressive accomplishment.
To put it into perspective, a previously unknown rookie knight had appeared in the tournament like a rising star, effortlessly knocking out every opponent he faced.
Of course, such glorious victories hadn’t come without effort.
“Take deep breaths. That’s right, just like that…”
Keldric gently stroked Boreas’s mane, the horse looking visibly exhausted.
After all, there had been three matches today. While the first ended in a single charge, the second and third required Keldric to engage in three or four passes each.
This wasn’t just because the opposing knights were more skilled; Keldric was still adapting to the nuances of jousting.
The gap between learning mounted combat from Sir Volfen and facing experienced knights in actual tournaments proved wider than Keldric had anticipated.
As a result, Boreas had borne the brunt of the effort. The horse was understandably fatigued after repeatedly giving its all in such short intervals.
Dismounting, Keldric took the reins and began walking Boreas. There was no need to feel disheartened, as the other knights’ horses were equally worn out.
“Is that the one from the rumors…?”
“Indeed. I heard he defeated Sir Gaspare today.”
“Impressive. And apparently, he’s only eighteen?”
“That’s younger than I expected.”
As Keldric led Boreas forward, a few nobles passed by, whispering among themselves. Thanks to his sharp hearing, Keldric caught their words and awkwardly cleared his throat.
Just two days ago, no one had paid him any attention. But now, people were beginning to recognize him, a sign that his reputation was growing.
Among the nobles gathered in Bogenberg to witness the tournament, Keldric’s name was starting to circulate.
Some even approached him, hoping to recruit him, though Keldric politely declined without causing offense.
‘They’re probably just looking to exploit me.’
While it would be ideal for a noble with a domain to genuinely take him in, such individuals were unlikely to easily grant land.
Not every knight who served a lord received land. Most knights continued to live as landless retainers, receiving only wages from their lords.
The offers from the nobles who approached Keldric were mostly similar: promises of land after five years of loyal service or the grant of tax rights to a village if he eradicated local bandits.
Although Keldric was keen on building his reputation and owning land, he had no desire to spend years as someone else’s lackey without any guarantees.
“What do you think, Sir?”
“There’s no need to consider their offers. Just ignore them and let them move on.”
“I agree with that. These lords want knights to risk their lives on the battlefield while paying them a pittance. Sir Keldric might end up ensnared by them,” said Sir Henri grimly.
Sir Henri and Sir Alan, both having started their knightly careers earlier than Keldric, had a good sense of the ulterior motives behind the offers from certain nobles.
The time might come when Keldric would have to serve a lord, but that could wait until after the tournament.
“…Sir Alan, are you alright?”
“Ugh… To be honest, I feel like I’m dying. I think my back is done for.”
Keldric looked at Sir Alan, who was leaning on Sir Henri for support, with a mix of concern and disbelief.
While Sir Alan had been defeated on the first day, a single loss didn’t eliminate a knight from the tournament entirely. The rules allowed knights a chance to redeem themselves, and today had been that chance for Sir Alan.
Despite his initial defeat, Sir Alan had risen to the occasion and secured a victory, making up for his earlier loss.
“How utterly pathetic. Are all Brittas knights this weak?”
“Well, at least he won. Let’s not be too harsh”
“True enough… but still…”
The price of victory was evident: Sir Alan was clutching his side and wincing from what was clearly severe back pain.
He had been struck by a lance in the side instead of the chest, leaving him unable to ride properly and in need of support to walk.
“Will the jousting matches continue tomorrow?”
The jousting over the past two days had been thrilling, but also physically demanding. Keldric wasn’t the only one feeling the strain; even he was starting to experience fatigue.
Three matches in a day might not sound like much, but maintaining balance on a violently jolting horse, aiming the lance precisely, and enduring the force of impacts were far from easy tasks.
“Not as far as I know. Starting tomorrow, it switches to group combat.”.
“Isn’t that more like a mock battle?”
“I heard there are no mock battles in this tournament. If you wanted to see mock battles, you should have gone to the Frankish Kingdom’s tournaments instead.”
The Bogenberg tournament had three categories: jousting, group combat where knights fought in teams, and one-on-one duels on foot.
The jousting, the tournament’s most popular event, lasted two days. Knights who suffered two or more defeats were eliminated.
“For group combat… will teams be distinguished by banners of different colors?”
“Exactly. You’ll be in the blue team, and I’ll be in the yellow.”
“I hope we meet in the arena.”
“…I hope we don’t.”
Sir Henri seemed to share the sentiment, as he didn’t tease Sir Alan for his reluctance this time. The thought of facing Keldric was equally unappealing to him.
“Alyssa.”
“Yes, Sir Keldric.”
“It seems… you’ve earned quite a bit of money”
Alyssa stood before him, beaming as she clutched a pouch about the size of two fists. Unsurprisingly, the pouch was brimming with gleaming silver coins, with a few gold ones mixed in, essentially a small fortune.
It was thanks to Alyssa betting her entire fortune on Keldric’s victory that she had earned such a sizable sum.
While Keldric appreciated the trust she placed in him, he couldn’t help but feel a significant burden seeing her risk everything without a second thought.
If he lost even once…
“I’ll be counting on you tomorrow as well, Sir Keldric.”
“Uh… sure.”
Even the best climbers can fall from a tree, and no matter how skilled a knight is, there’s always a chance they could falter in the heat of battle.
To avoid becoming a cautionary tale, Keldric resolved to give it his all.
That said, he wasn’t overly worried.
‘Now I can fight a bit more comfortably.’
The group combat that followed the jousting matches would be conducted on foot, making it an ideal format for Keldric.
He subtly smiled, fingers brushing over the bulging pouch tucked into his chest. While his successive wins had sharply reduced the betting odds, it would still be foolish to miss the chance to earn more money.
If he was going to compete, he might as well aim for a big haul.
That was Keldric’s approach to the tournament.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
The third morning of the Bogenberg Tournament dawned brightly.
The tournament, which had kicked off with a match between the renowned Sir Ortwin and Sir Rupert, was now in its third day, yet the excitement showed no signs of waning.
On the contrary, even nobles who had yet to visit the tournament from the surrounding regions were flocking to Bogenberg.
The reason, however, wasn’t the matches themselves but rather the host’s latest announcement.
“Sir Theodore is coming?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. He wasn’t seen around until yesterday, so he must have had some urgent business nearby.”
In response to Keldric’s question, Sir Henri replied somewhat curtly. This was perhaps understandable, as the expression on Sir Alan, who stood beside Sir Henri, was quite a spectacle. Even Keldric couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the sight of the large man’s eyes twinkling with childlike excitement.
“Sir Theodore! The Duke of Bogenberg has truly made a splendid choice!”
“…Well, if it’s Sir Theodore, there’s nothing to be done about it. Damn! Why haven’t they invited any outstanding knights from the Frankish Kingdom instead?”
“Perhaps it’s because there’s no one greater than Sir Theodore? Surely you’re looking forward to meeting him as well, aren’t you, Sir Keldric?”
“Uh, well…”
The “Silver Lion” of the Mistfall family, Sir Theodore.
He was also known by other titles such as the Onslaught in the Mist, the Strategist, and the Knight of Knights….proof of his immense renown.
Sir Alan, it seemed, was deeply moved by the news that a famous knight from the Kingdom of Britas was coming to observe the tournament.
Keldric, though less visibly excited, was also rather intrigued. After all, if such a renowned knight came to watch the matches, just catching his eye could open countless opportunities.
Perhaps Keldric might get a chance to have a conversation with Sir Theodore. Or, even better, he might see Sir Theodore enter the tournament and learn a thing or two from the legendary knight himself.
“Alyssa, you’ve heard of Sir Theodore as well, haven’t you?”
“Yes, of course. He’s a famous figure. During the Holy Land Restoration Expedition, he was one of the knights who received a blessed weapon from His Holiness the Pope, wasn’t he?”
Like Sir Werner of the Henzer family, Sir Theodore had participated in the Holy Land Restoration Expedition and achieved remarkable feats.
Rumor had it that he wielded the unfamiliar terrain like a divine gift, utterly decimating the infidel armies. Another tale told of how his sword emitted blinding light, vanquishing the heretical horde in a single, decisive strike.
Rumor had it that, blessed by the divine, he created seawater out of thin air to drown an entire enemy army…
‘That’s just too much hype.’
It didn’t make any sense. Not even magic could accomplish such a feat.
“All we need to do is focus on performing well in the match. Let’s put all other concerns aside for now,” Keldric said firmly.
“What do you mean, Sir Keldric? How can Sir Theodore’s arrival be a minor concern?”
Catching Sir Theodore’s attention? That was all well and good.
But before that, Keldric needed to win his match. And not just win—he needed a decisive, overwhelming victory.
Fortunately, the upcoming match format was one Keldric excelled at, fighting on foot with chosen weapons.
Unlike jousting, which was conducted on horseback, the group combat matches were fought with all participants on the ground.
The knights were divided into four teams: the Red Cedar, Yellow Rapeseed, Blue Dragoons, and Green Woodpeckers. Each team was further split into smaller groups that would then battle against the other teams.
Keldric silently donned his helmet and tightened his grip on the mace in his hand.
His equipment included a shield in his left hand, a mace gifted by Sir Werner, and a spare mace and short sword strapped to his waist.
While he could have chosen to wield his trusted longsword, its edge would undoubtedly wear with use, so he reserved it for a more critical moment.
“Sir Keldric of House Belaf. Even if you don’t win, fight honorably.”
“I aim for a glorious victory”
The knights in his team patted his shoulder one by one, offering encouragement. Including Keldric, there were about ten of them.
“Sir Gaspare of House Vella, Sir Willibald of House Griffinhoff…”
As the announcer, Castellan Kuno, called out the names, Keldric watched quietly through the lattice gate as the opposing knights entered the arena one by one.
Around him, his fellow knights prepared themselves in their own ways. One crossed himself in silent prayer, while another tightened his grip on his weapon, glaring at their opponents as they filed into the arena.
“And now, the honorable knights of the Red Cedar team! Their opponents…”
As the knights of the Blue Dragoons team began to be called, Keldric maintained his composure, gripping his weapon tightly. Keeping a balanced level of tension helped him stay focused.
Even if it was a non-lethal tournament, the fights were conducted with real weapons, so one had to approach it as if it were a true battlefield.
“…Sir Keldric of House Belaf!”
Feeling his muscles surge with energy, Keldric stepped into the arena. Cheers erupted from the crowd as the brilliant sunlight bore down on him, just as it had the previous day. His gaze swept across the knights lined up before him.
This was a battlefield exclusively for knights, where only the strongest gathered for a chaotic brawl.
‘Perfect.’
For Keldric, it couldn’t have been better. There was no better opportunity to hone his skills and gain valuable experience.
As for the match itself, he had little concern about the outcome.
The only thing Keldric truly worried about was accidentally cracking open an opponent’s skull.