Chapter 64
“Armor Breaker Urich? He’s probably a nobody.”
The jousting tournament contestant who said that nearly died from multiple broken ribs. Urich had finished both the round of thirty-two and sixteen in a single blow.
Woosh.
The jousting tournament was good entertainment. Every time Urich moved with Kylios, the hem of his robe fluttered. Because of his armor, he didn’t look like a barbarian at all. Rather, his knight-like horseback riding skills sent the crowd into a frenzy.
‘All those lessons from Pahell are paying off.’
Pahell was a much better horseback rider than the average knight. Urich had learned from someone like him, and his bond with Kylios was unlike other knights.
‘The way Kylios moves, it’s almost like he’s reading my thoughts. He feels like an extension of my legs.’
Over the two rounds, the bond between Urich and Kylios only grew thicker. Urich wasn’t the only one who had tasted victory. Horses were intelligent animals. Kylios too was drunk on victory. On the days he returned from a victory, his feed was full of fresh vegetables.
“Urich! Urich! Urich!”
The crowd chanted his name.
“That was excellent, Urich,” Phillion said as he looked at Urich who was making his way back from the arena. He helped Urich remove his armor like his squire.
“They’re all cowards who are afraid of the spear. They hesitate, so their spears have no power in them. Their horses know that their masters are scared, too.”
Urich said excitedly. The exhilaration from the match was yet to be diffused, so his shoulders were shrugging up and down as his eyes darted about, looking for his opponent who no longer existed.
“Bravery is a knight’s virtue, but the right amount of fear helps you protect yourself. You can’t ram through the battlefield with bravery alone.” Phillion was worried about Urich.
‘He’s brave, but that’s the problem. He doesn’t know how to hold himself back.’
The bravery beyond one’s fear of death was the hallmark trait of barbarians. It sounded nice, but at the end of the day, it meant nothing when you were dead.
‘Charging like he doesn’t care if his opponent’s spear strikes him is definitely not right.’
Despite his concern, Phillion didn’t say anything to Urich. As Urich said, jousting was all about mentality. It was better to let him focus on his attacks rather than distracting him with unnecessary comments.
‘Distraction results in the lack of a final product. Your spear tip will waver at the last moment.’
Phillion carried on complimenting Urich as he helped him out of the rest of the armor.
Clunk.
Phillion had sent out one of his men to find the smith who made Urich’s chainmail, but it was difficult to find someone in a metropolis like Hamel. He was most likely a smith who didn’t even belong to a smithy, as Urich’s chainmail looked like it was hastily made in a rented forge.
“Is tomorrow the start of the quarterfinals? How many more do I have to win now? One, two, three? Just three more wins to win the whole thing,” Urich grinned as he counted with his fingers.
“You’ll see a drastic rise in the level of your opponent starting in the quarterfinals. They’ll also have better horses and better armor, as well.”
“Kylios is a good horse, too.”
“He is indeed, but he is not a trained warhorse.”
The capital of Hamel was brought to life by the jousting tournament. Everywhere you turned, there was talk of the jousting tournament. By the time the contest was down to the contestants of the quarterfinals, there were only a few who didn’t know their names.
From the quarterfinals onward, the high nobility started to pay attention to the contestants. The nobles were eager to find a talented knight to hire as their liege, even if they weren’t necessarily the champion.
In the jousting tournament arena, there were seats set aside for just the nobles, the highest of which were strictly guarded by soldiers flanking them on either side.
“It’s quite a hot day.”
With the man’s words, maidens with large fans rushed over and waved their arms. The breeze swept across the man’s skin. The servants around him raised a shade curtain made of layers of cloth to put a shade over the man’s head.
With just the word ‘hot,’ the amount of power the man was holding became obvious. His people moved of their own accord.
“Ohoho, the men down there in their armor are probably getting steamed alive in there.”
“Calling me for a mere quarterfinal match, is there someone who caught Noya’s eyes?”
The man said softly. The person he referred to as Noya was the Sword Demon Ferzen.
The man’s and Ferzen’s gazes swept down the arena. Wearing a cloak or a robe over armor wasn’t just for aesthetics; the extra layer of cloth blocked the sun’s rays, preventing the armor from heating up.
“There’s an interesting one.”
Ferzen narrowly opened his white eyes. The cataract had advanced quite a bit, leaving his visions rather poor.
“Noya, you’ve lived so many years, and yet you still find entertainment in this world.”
“You, the man who enjoys all the pleasures of this world, still find fun in things, don’t you? Ohoho.”
The man and Ferzen sounded comfortable with each other.
The man under the shade was in his thirties. The relaxed corners of his mouth showed his confidence. His arms were covered in vascular muscles, and the calluses on his hands suggested that he was quite experienced with his sword.
“What pleasure?”
The man grinned and pulled one of the maidens toward himself. He lightly explored her mouth, then groped her butt. The maiden, however, didn’t protest at all.
“There he comes.”
The man roughly shoved the maiden away at Ferzen’s words. The maiden, after falling on the floor, rushed back to her feet and returned to her position.
“You can still see with those eyes, huh?”
“Just the silhouette.”
“Why don’t you get surgery?”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
Ferzen took a seat with a burst of laughter. He didn’t care much about his eyesight; he had lived long enough. After a lifetime on the battlefield, he was still alive and well. Some even say that Ferzen had the blessing of the sun god.
“He’s tall and quite large. I can feel his strength through his armor. What is that crest?”
The man said as he looked down at the arena. Urich, better known as the Armor Breaker, emerged into the arena.
“A herring and a fishing boat. It’s the crest of the Porcana Kingdom,” the scribe standing next to the man said.
“Porcana... that small kingdom on the fringes sent a knight this far? A knight sponsored by royalty probably isn’t seeking a place in the Order of Imperial Steel, either.”
The man tilted his chin. Urich had piqued his curiosity.
“That man is a barbarian, ohoho. Isn’t it funny? The man who’s competing in this jousting tournament with the sponsorship of royalty is a barbarian! And the rumor has it that he and his sponsor, Prince Varca Aneu Porcana, are friends.”
The man leaned forward and twisted his lips as his eyes shone.
“Hmm, a royalty and a barbarian are friends? If that’s true, it’s quite an entertaining combination. How is that barbarian knight in Noya’s eyes? You wouldn’t have called me if he wasn’t any good, even if he was interesting.”
“I’m sure you know Mijorn the Brave from the Chronicles of the Northern Conquest. He was the self-proclaimed king of the north who rode as far south as the empire.”
About three decades ago, the empire conquered the north and the south. It was the work of the previous emperor, which people praised and called ‘The Great Conquest.’ The previous emperor, who wasn’t satisfied with stopping there, died during a battle in the Subjugation of the Remaining Barbarians a decade ago without fulfilling his wish.
There weren’t many nobles who hadn’t read the Chronicles of the Northern and Southern Conquest, which were handwritten by the previous emperor.
“Of course, Noya yourself led your army and beheaded Mijorn. What, are you asking for my praise for what you did decades ago?”
“In my opinion, that man’s prowess is on par with Mijorn’s, if not better.”
Ferzen said, and the man let out a contained exclamation.
“That is quite a high praise. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough whether you’ve just lost your edge along with your vision.”
The man pulled himself to the edge of his seat as he looked down at the arena. The two knights faced each other.
Urich felt the breath of Kylios. His and Kylios’ breaths gradually became synchronized, and something exhilarating exploded in his head. He no longer felt the weight of the armor, and the spear felt as light as air.
‘I feel like I can do anything.’
Despite his body burning with the will to fight, his head was crystal clear. Urich experienced this sensation every now and then. On days when this sensation rose inside him before a battle, even his enemies’ weapons seemed to evade him.
“Xavier, the famous black knight!”
The crowd chanted the opponent knight’s name along with Urich’s. Xavier was a popular black knight who was known for fighting for the wrongfully accused.
A black knight was a knight who fought for the defense in a duel trial. Conversely, a plaintiff’s representative was called a white knight.
“Ohh, Xavier, I’ve heard his name. He’s well-known as the black knight of the powerless.”
“Xavier is a knight with a respectable backstory, ohoho. Representing the powerless in their duel trials pro bono is a great way to build a public reputation.”
“But that’s all because he has the skills to win all those duels.”
The man and Ferzen discussed as they looked at Xavier. Xavier, fitting to his name, was dressed in an all-black attire.
“Xavier! Xavier!”
The crowd seemed to prefer Xavier over Urich. A black knight who fought duel rials for the weak who were wrongfully accused. The public loved a knight like that.
No one knew if Xavier fought for the powerless because of the true compassion he has for them in his heart, or if he did it solely as a strategy to gain popularity and fame. Maybe he just happened to get caught up in the trials.
Fame was often independent of the original truth. A reputation could come to life as long as people started to talk about it. However, there was no fame without reason. In any case, it was true that Xavier had often represented the weak in their duel trials as their black knight, and he was a skilled knight who had come out victorious in all of them.
“Hmph.”
Xavier had heard the stories about Urich’s round of thirty-two and sixteen matches.
‘He won both those rounds with just a single blow. If I try to play it safe, he’ll beat me like he did with the other knights. I have to be ready from the get-go and charge with all my power.’
Xavier’s eyes shone with rock-solid determination. His dark charcoal-colored robe fluttered long, and his blackened jousting lance was tucked securely under his armpit.
Clop!
The horses on both sides galloped. The crowd watched with bated breath as the two knights faced off.
‘Something feels different.’
Urich, on his galloping horse, thought to himself. He felt the momentum of Xavier as he rode toward him from the opposite end of the arena.
The rear of Xavier’s saddle was wide and stable. It was designed to help its rider better withstand the clashes of a joust. His shield was larger and had greater curvature to evenly distribute the impact of the lance.
‘I won’t be able to knock him off his horse by striking his shield like I did with the other ones.’
It only took Urich a brief moment to assess the situation. It wasn’t that he had noticed anything with his theoretical knowledge, it was just a gut feeling of a warrior. His judgment that striking the shield wasn’t going to work was correct.
“Urich?”
Phillion widened his eyes as he watched the match, and he wasn’t the only one with a puzzled reaction. The crowd murmured as they watched Urich’s movement.
The most basic technique of jousting was to tuck the lance tightly under one’s armpit because that was the position that delivered the full power of the horse with the strike. Any other technique would inflict an injury to the knight as it wouldn’t allow a safe embracing of the horse’s beastly power.
‘I am strong.’
Urich always had faith in his body. Even when he was severely wounded in the Sky Mountains, he made it down to the bottom after shivering in the cold. Even when he crushed the faceplate of a full plate armor, he believed that if anyone could do it, it was himself. He was a warrior who had full faith in himself.
“Woahhhh!”
Urich let out a primal roar. His lance was no longer tucked under his armpit. Instead, it was lifted up as if he was about to launch it. It was a completely different angle that he was bringing it down at.
“No, Urich! That’s not enough power!”
Phillion yelled without even realizing it. Urich’s form wasn’t going to carry enough power to break down a knight in heavy armor.
‘What is he doing, striking down from that height with just one arm? Not only will he lack the power he needs, but he might injure his shoulder. There’s a basic technique for a reason!’
Then, Phillion’s mouth dropped open as he witnessed something that made him doubt his own eyes. The jousting lance that Urich had lifted with one arm deftly avoided the shield and struck the armor.
By securing the lance using the strength in his arm and shoulder, Urich had freely wielded a jousting lance that was over ten feet long and loaded the entire power of his horse on it with just a single arm.
Thud!
Xavier was unable to block the lance that came in from an unexpected angle. After being struck in the shoulder, he lost his balance and fell off his horse.
‘That stings.’
Urich gripped the reins and tossed aside the lance after its tip was ruined. The extraordinary maneuver only left him a sore shoulder.’
Schring.
Urich drew his sword and reined his horse toward Xavier.
‘How in the world was I hit?’
Xavier didn’t understand exactly what had happened. His helmet and the large shield limited his vision significantly, and Urich’s lance had come in from his blind spot. The crowd, however, saw exactly how the exchange unfolded.
‘He charged holding the lance up high with one arm?’
Jousting lance was not a weapon that was supposed to be raised high with one arm. Urich’s form was not the ordinary jousting form; it was more like a form you would see in a javelin throw.
‘If anyone else had tried that, their shoulders would have shattered. His physical prowess is insane.’
On top of that, Urich’s lance was incredibly accurate and precise. He aimed for his opponent’s blind spot and dodged the shield as he struck downward.
Xavier forfeited the match. After learning what Urich had pulled off, he lost his will to continue the match.
“Did you see that? Ohoho.”
Ferzen said triumphantly. He smiled as he listened to his servant’s description of the match like a blind man. He couldn’t see the details of the game with his white eyes.
“That indeed is an amazing skill. I have never seen anyone use a jousting lance like that before. It made me consider forming a cavalry unit in the Sun Warriors,” the man said as he clapped.
“Not all barbarians can do what he does.”
“How interesting! That was fun, Noya. You still have great eyes for talent.”
“Of course, your majesty.”
Ferzen bowed his head lightly. The other servants fell to the floor to bow as the man got up from his seat.
Fluck.
The man drew his purple cloak around him. The symbol on the cloak was an eagle in golden threat. The color of the cloak was not a blueish purple, but it was in fact a true purple cloak. There was only one person in the world who could wear that cloak around his back.
The one who goes by the name the ‘Ruler of the World’: the emperor.
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