“William from Nia Town?”
Beside Baron Terry, a noblewoman wearing a veil and hiding half her face behind a small fan asked with interest, “Little Terry… is he a freeman from your territory?”
She spoke with a heavy nasal tone, as sweet as if filled with honey.
“Indeed! Yes… I have met him… and granted him the status of a freeman… beautiful Lady Serina…”
Baron Terry replied somewhat absentmindedly, his eyes filled with enchantment.
“What a fascinating little fellow!”
Lady Serina seemed to enjoy Baron Terry’s gaze. She closed her fan and lightly tapped her chest twice.
That subtle implication made Baron Terry’s breathing suddenly grow heavy.
…
Puff!
Wu Ming calmly stepped forward and drew his sword.
The sharp blade pierced through the armpit area, causing the dual-blade adventurer to scream in pain and fall to the ground.
The angle was extremely tricky. Without the protection of leather armor, the sword went in deeply, almost enough to sever his entire arm with a bit more force.
Seeing this, the referee immediately declared Wu Ming the winner.
“The next match, number 212 versus number 311!”
Two servants came onto the stage to carry away the fallen dual-blade fighter. Without wasting any time, the referee loudly called out the next match.
“Like this all day, you have to fight seven or eight matches, and always win. Those with poor stamina really can’t hold up!”
Wu Ming calmly waited. Half an hour later, his second match came around.
His opponent this time had changed to a spearman, clearly the one who had a bye in the previous round.
He looked quite nervous, yet somewhat confident, and launched an attack first, not sparing any of his energy.
It proved, in fact, that this opponent was even easier to deal with than the first. Wu Ming simply feigned a few moves, easily tripped him over, and placed his sword at the man’s throat.
The third opponent was somewhat troublesome—a large man wielding a flail, swinging a mace like a whirlwind. It took Wu Ming quite some effort to break through his chainmail armor.
…
After several days of chaotic fighting, the top eight contenders for this individual martial competition were finally determined.
Wu Ming naturally was among them. Through his observations, he noticed two other competitors who were particularly noteworthy, both likely of knight-level ability.
The first was naturally Adrian, a knight who had already left the church. He was highly skilled in swordsmanship, tall and strong, especially adept at defeating opponents with a single strike.
The other contender called himself Alfred, the leader of a renowned mercenary group—the Wild Wolf’s Heart.
Their entire team consisted of over a hundred mercenaries, and they had achieved excellent results in the team battles. It was said that they had already been recruited by the Count, who was preparing to bestow knighthood upon him.
Of course, citing honor as his reason, he was not satisfied merely gaining distinction through commanding a mercenary company. Instead, he participated in this individual competition—”I shall earn honor by my own sword!” were his exact words.
However, Wu Ming felt that Alfred simply wanted to gain even more.
Moreover, for some unknown reason, whenever he saw this man, Wu Ming always felt a certain chilliness about him, along with a kind of aura he found somewhat familiar.
“According to the rules, the next stage will be the quarterfinals for the top eight!”
After the last elimination match, the clerk said to Wu Ming, “You need a set of knight armor and a warhorse—a real warhorse! Not one that will panic at the sound of battle and flee in terror!”
Wu Ming rubbed his nose and said, “I barely have a horse. But if I don’t wear armor, will I be directly disqualified?”
The clerk looked at him as if he were an idiot, “If you wish, you can fight in nothing but cloth!”
Clearly, he knew the power and defensive capabilities of full armor combined with a charging warhorse. In his opinion, this young man, although skilled in martial arts, would only be impaled by a single lance from any real knight.
“Oh! William, it really is you!”
After leaving the celebration venue, Wu Ming immediately spotted an old acquaintance.
“It’s been a long time, Sir Tarkur!”
He wore a bright smile as he greeted him, “Would you like to find a place for a drink?”
“My pleasure!”
Sir Tarkur now looked at Wu Ming with a different kind of expression—one of admiration mixed with a sense of equality, “Your performance has greatly impressed Lord Baron. He has promised me that if you return… the position of Captain of the Nia Town Guard will be yours… of course, after this martial competition!”
He had a nostalgic expression on his face, “Never thought our Lord Blue Mountain would be so generous… Honestly, living in the Windfly Plains all this time, I can guarantee there’s no better opportunity than this!”
As they spoke, the two made their way to a noisy tavern. After paying several times the usual price, they finally got two cups of low-grade ale from the plump landlady.
“To tomorrow’s victory, cheers!”
Sir Tarkur toasted, and they both downed their ale. The spicy yet slightly sour taste was something William’s body remembered vividly.
“Starting from the quarterfinals, the matches will shift from infantry to cavalry. I have to admit, although Lord Blue Mountain has opened a door for the freemen, the competition rules still favor the nobility and the wealthy…”
Sir Tarkur looked at Wu Ming sincerely, “Do you need armor and a warhorse? You can use mine directly for the horse, and I’ll figure out the armor… I have a few knight friends here who are familiar with me. Although their armor might not fit you perfectly, it’s better than nothing!”
He glanced around and lowered his voice, “Remember one thing! Don’t choose to rent armor or a warhorse. It’s too easy for someone to target you and sabotage things. Don’t overestimate your opponent’s integrity… After all, this is a matter that can change a lifetime’s fate and influence generations!”
“Thank you again! But I already have preparations made!”
Wu Ming politely declined Sir Tarkur’s kindness. They had a few more drinks, and considering that he had a match the next day, Sir Tarkur kindly urged him to go back early and get plenty of rest.
…
On the day of the quarterfinals.
The square had been renovated. All other platforms were removed, and colorful flags and ribbons floated around. The sounds of drummers and musicians filled the arena.
“Tarkur, you saw William yesterday. What did he say?”
Baron Terry’s face was somewhat pale, his eyes sunken, clearly having had a sleepless night and having expended a lot of energy and effort.
“He is extremely grateful for Lord’s favor!”
Sir Tarkur slightly bowed, “And he promised that after the competition, if he has no other responsibilities, he will definitely come to serve Lord Baron!”
Of course, Sir Tarkur tried his best to speak well of Wu Ming.
“What a delightful piece of news!” Baron Terry sighed, “Now I don’t know whether I should hope for William to win or lose next!”
“It is his honor to serve a baron!”
Tax official Fied quickly added.
To be honest, seeing William’s performance yesterday had truly frightened him. Now he had no doubt that the disappearance of Arthur and the others must have been at William’s hand.
His only relief was that after showing slight hostility towards William, he had stopped early, and all his suppression against Auntie Roa had been within the rules, not dragging him deeper into the vortex.
“I remember, William was just an ordinary farmer, right?”
Baron Terry watched as the railings on both sides opened, and a group of purely performing knights entered the arena to show off, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, “Even if he can rent armor and a warhorse, does he really know the techniques of fighting in armor and riding a horse?”
Only nobles or the sons of knights could spend their childhood carefree, without worrying about food, fully dedicating themselves to honing their skills.
Only such families could afford the consumption of warhorses and armor.
For commoners, these conditions were naturally very unfavorable.
However, for the sake of his own interests, even Baron Terry did not feel any sense of wrongness, at most just lamenting William’s misfortune.
As for Fied? He probably hoped nothing more than for William to lose, not only to lose, but preferably to die, so he would have no further worries.
“The first match!”
The referee’s loud voice echoed.
The audience stands around became increasingly noisy, with more people than at the beginning.
They were always filled with fiery interest in the fights between knights, the clashes of lances and warhorses.
Perhaps… it was extremely rare for them, the commoners, to see the usually lofty knights fighting each other, entertaining them and satisfying some darker psychological needs.
“From the wandering knight Bert Tal of Coldwind Keep versus the freeman William from Nia Town!”
Clang!
The previous performance knights exited, the railings dropped, and an armored knight charged into the square.
He wore the most orthodox knight plate armor, making him look like a walking iron canister. His steed was nearly two to three meters tall, wearing cloth armor stitched with iron plates. A fifteen-foot, four to five-meter-long knight’s lance gleamed sharply in the sunlight. The whole figure looked like a moving steel fortress.
“Roar!”
The knight circled the arena once, suddenly lifting the visor of his helmet and letting out a long howl like a wolf.
Seeing his showy riding skills and strength, Sir Tarkur’s expression also turned solemn. His rich experience told him that this Bert was already quite close to a true knight. Even if he himself were fully armored and in the arena, he couldn’t say he had much confidence.
“Ah… this Bert is actually the second son of Sir Ery, sent to a knight’s service for training since childhood!”
Baron Terry said with some surprise upon hearing the news.
At this point, naturally none of the eight finalists were simple characters. If not for having already experienced a war, and most free knights choosing to pledge loyalty to Viscount Garcia, there might have been even more formidable contenders emerging.
“Neigh!”
On the other side, Wu Ming also rode a black horse into the arena, causing Sir Tarkur’s face to change drastically, “What?”
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