Ch.178Joust (4)

Sir Alberto. He claimed to be from the southern part of the Western Continent, a region fragmented into numerous small states. He was a knight characterized by his flamboyant—or rather, frivolous—uniform dyed in primary colors of blue and red.

He adorned his unique southern-style hat, called a “Cavalier Hat,” with lavish decorations including feathers, and wore a moderately long cape along with light armor equivalent to a simple breastplate.

True to his appearance, which suggested he might draw his rapier and throw down his glove to challenge someone to a duel at any moment, he had a history of working as what was known as a Champion—a professional duelist—in the southern kingdoms.

In a world where the influence of violence was stronger than anywhere else, duels were conducted to resolve disagreements or when trials—which had an even more desperate investigative system than modern times—failed to produce answers.

Of course, since this dueling culture originated from the religious belief that God would ensure the righteous side would prevail, various institutional mechanisms existed to prevent the side with superior combat ability from necessarily winning.

One such institution was the “Champion”—a system allowing those with relatively lower combat ability or lacking confidence in battle to hire warriors matching their opponent’s level to fight as their proxy.

Sir Alberto had apparently made his living working as such a Champion.

But naturally, being a Champion was just a fancy name for what was essentially a 3D job for warriors.

While popular Champions might earn good money, they had the disadvantage of constantly fighting opponents of similar skill level and having to maintain a certain win rate.

No, calling it merely a disadvantage would be an understatement—there were many better professions available for those with the right circumstances.

One could become a personal bodyguard for the wealthy, serve as a vassal to a specific lord, save money to purchase a small territory and become a lord oneself, or even take up the life of an adventurer.

Dueling was simply popular as a sport throughout the Western Continent, making it the best way to build reputation and accumulate fame—in modern terms, it was the optimal career for a warrior without connections to build their resume.

Particularly known for his swift swordsmanship and quick strikes with the rapier, he was an exceptionally useful rapier wielder in one-on-one combat. He had amassed considerable wealth by adapting to the dueling environment of the time, which typically minimized armor usage.

But despite his activities as a relatively successful Champion, perhaps he thought he wouldn’t live out his natural lifespan if he continued that way.

After building up a decent reputation (resume) and saving some money, he left his chaotic homeland and came to work as a freelancer in the Frankish Kingdom, where conditions were somewhat better.

More specifically, he leveraged his top-tier combat skills—limited to one-on-one fights—to serve as a notary in jousting tournaments.

Being a foreigner rather than a Frankish citizen, he was less likely to have internal connections, and his considerable combat prowess made him less susceptible to intimidation or assassination attempts.

Thanks to this, he had built a career by working in various capacities at jousts and had become something of an expert—even having organized jousting tournaments himself.

And so, after Sir Alberto had promised to help me and assessed our current situation, his response was predictable.

“It’s impossible.”

“Well, I suppose that’s true…”

In our current village, we obviously lacked the resources to host a proper joust.

We had neither money nor materials. Naturally, we couldn’t afford to host a joust—what could be called the pinnacle of legitimate medieval luxury.

Especially since events and festivals like these couldn’t simply be resolved by throwing money at them; they required the expertise and know-how of professionals experienced in the field.

And when such an expert said that hosting a joust was impossible given our village’s current situation, it was something I had secretly expected.

To be frank, how could we host a joust in a village that hadn’t even existed for a full year?

In a situation where finding cloth for the arena and spectator stands was already problematic, a proper formal joust was literally a luxury.

It was truly a comprehensive crisis—even if we wanted to fill in the deficiencies, something else would fall apart elsewhere.

Since this was something I couldn’t help but acknowledge despite my reluctance, I chose to immediately bring up the alternative I had been considering.

“Sir Alberto. Then… perhaps this approach might work?”

※ ※ ※

In the Frankish Kingdom, “knights” are essentially the backbone of the entire kingdom.

They are a unique class who, after awakening their aura and gaining the power of intermediate warriors, receive baronet titles from nobles, becoming the privileged class of the Frankish Kingdom—a nation so defined by its knights that it’s called “the country of knights.”

The Frankish Kingdom is only about one-third the size of its neighbor, the Holy Empire, in terms of pure scale. Nevertheless, they proudly wield enough power to influence continental politics as a major player.

This is achieved by using knight-preferential policies to incorporate numerous knights into the state.

They immediately grant baronet titles to intermediate warriors with no criminal record, integrating them into the kingdom’s privileged class. While this practice has now spread throughout the Western Continent, it was the Frankish Kingdom that first initiated it.

As a result, despite being evaluated as a medieval feudal kingdom, the Frankish Kingdom is surprisingly a country where social mobility is quite easy, making it optimal for those from humble beginnings to rise in society.

The Southern Kingdoms are plagued by endless civil wars and divisions, making it likely that even if one rises to power, they won’t survive long enough to enjoy it. The Holy Empire combines a bureaucratic system with a military society, creating terrible conditions that make class mobility extremely difficult.

In contrast, in the Frankish Kingdom, if you have enough money and are an intermediate warrior, you can purchase your own land and live like a king as a lord.

Consequently, while the Frankish Kingdom is less than half the size of the Holy Empire, it boasts about 80% of the Holy Empire’s total number of knights.

Considering that the Holy Empire consists of nine electorates in a loose confederate system, this clearly explains why the Frankish Kingdom can maintain its position despite being criticized for its seemingly inadequate system.

And one of these knights who had experienced a dramatic rise from the bottom to ultimately reach the upper class was Atra Valerie.

A minor noble ruling over a manor with a population of 500, Lady Atra Valerie was, as usual, enjoying hunting in her territory that day.

Hunting large beasts in one’s territory serves as a source of income, a hobby, and also as minimal security to maintain public safety in a world where magical beasts exist.

Lady Atra Valerie, in particular, was a warrior with a strong competitive spirit before she was a lord. Even now, she was known for occasionally seeking out strong opponents due to her inability to endure boredom—her ambition and bellicosity were quite famous.

She was so dedicated that she even participated in a joust held just days after giving birth to her firstborn son, the heir, with her current husband.

For her, a native of the North where aggressive warrior culture originated, struggle was life itself. A devout follower of Chronima, the war deity, Lady Atra Valerie returned to her mansion after finishing her hunt that day as usual.

“Lady Valerie, a letter has arrived for you.”

“…Hmm?”

What was handed to her was none other than a “letter”—the kind that occasionally brought important news from her lord.

“…A joust invitation!”

Having studied reading diligently to avoid being called ignorant due to her northern origins, she immediately recognized that this invitation was for a joust and excitedly began reading its contents.

However, something about it seemed strange.

The sender was Camille de Alzar, recently renowned as a “miracle experiencer” and a late-blooming promising talent.

While the invitation he sent was generally normal in most aspects, there were some elements that were utterly incomprehensible.

“…A real sword match without spectators? A bloody battle of warriors?”

These were conditions that knights who live on honor and fame would never desire. No spectators, real weapons that could result in death, and no prize money for the winner—just pure combat.

Moreover, it explicitly stated that no considerations or benefits would be given to participants, and only those truly seeking real combat should attend.

Frankly speaking, ordinary knights would never want something like this, but for the “real ones,” these conditions were like heaven.

‘This is too good! How can I resist?’

In a world where individual physical growth and achievement through effort are directly visible in the form of combat power, there exist battle maniacs—madmen consumed by the spirit of struggle.

For people whose life goal is not to use combat power as a means to an end but to become stronger for its own sake, what happens when such an appetizing bait is thrown?

‘…Ah, I can’t resist this.’

And so, with her restraint completely gone, Atra Valerie immediately set out for Alzar Barony, a reaction shared equally among dozens of battle maniacs who received the news.

Their number exceeded 30 in total.