This was the fifth day since
The horns sounded outside the walls once more. Another knight had come to issue a challenge.
Yesterday afternoon alone, three challenge duels had taken place. Ovikis won two in a row, earning himself two ransoms totaling over thirty gold Forde. He only withdrew after taking a light arm injury during the second bout. Pat stepped in to replace him, fighting his opponent on foot. Exploiting his defensive advantages as a Shield Warden, he dragged out the fight for over an hour against his Silver Two-Star opponent, wearing the man down until the opponent had no choice but to surrender. When dawn broke and Lorist went to patrol the ramparts, he noticed that the observation tents the lords had set up the day before were still standing in the courtyard before the fortress. He figured those lords would show up again today for more knightly challenges. Sure enough, just past nine in the morning, another knight rode up to the fortress gates and blew his horn in challenge.
Pat went out once more, this time fighting mounted. However, with his trained dynamic vision, he sparred on horseback for over ten minutes before unseating his Silver One-Star opponent and claiming victory.
Under normal circumstances, a victorious knight in such challenge duels was allowed half an hour's rest before accepting the next challenger to ensure fairness. Pat therefore returned to the fortress. What no one expected was that the moment he left, a wandering knight charged out of the field merchant caravan's camp and issued a challenge to the lords' family knights. Then all hell broke loose. No one knew where they all came from, but suddenly the open ground before the fortress was swarming with wandering knights and free knights, all throwing themselves into challenge duels with wild enthusiasm. The battlefield had turned into a knight carnival, and the
Wandering knight versus wandering knight, wandering knight versus free knight, wandering knight versus family knight, free knight versus free knight, free knight versus family knight—the duels were an absolute mess. By the afternoon, even more lords had arrived. They hadn't been invited by the Kemers family at all; they'd simply heard that knight challenges were being held here and came running. The moment they arrived, their family knights threw themselves into the heated duels without even waiting for their camps to be fully set up.
"Sigh… we've been forgotten," Ovikis lamented, gazing down at the lively spectacle before the fortress. His left arm was wrapped in layer upon layer of bandages.
Below, three pairs of knights were locked in fierce combat…
"My lord, I truly don't understand why so many wandering knights and free knights would rush over just for this kind of challenge duel. Everywhere else, it takes a lord hosting a tournament to draw them in. But this is a battlefield! Now these wandering and free knights have completely stolen the show."
"Well…" Lorist paused in thought before answering. "Compared to other regions, Northland is rather barren. The noble lords here rarely host knight tournaments because it requires a great deal of money. These past two years have been turbulent in Northland, with frequent wars. Many lords have lost their territories or been absorbed, and the family knights beneath them have become wandering knights or free knights, stripped of their income and livelihood."
"You should understand—for a wandering knight, winning a challenge duel earns a ransom that's roughly two or three years of a family knight's income. So when they heard challenges were being held here, of course they swarmed in like mad. Do you think they care whether this is a battlefield or not? The rules of knightly challenge duels are what they are. If they perform impressively, some lord might even recruit them as family knights. What's not to like?"
"Oh, and
"That reminds me—where did Jim run off to?" Lorist realized he hadn't seen the man since morning.
"Over there, right in front of that field merchant caravan's camp. He's running a book, taking bets on the outcomes of the challenge duels. Seems to be making a decent profit," Pat said.
"Damn it, that scoundrel can't shake his mercenary habits. A little friendly wagering is fine, but organized gambling is a serious taboo for knights. When he gets back, I'll have someone teach him proper knightly etiquette and conduct," Lorist said with a frown.
"My lord, should we recruit a few of these wandering knights and free knights as family knights?" Old Balak gazed down at the dueling knights, a thought stirring in his mind.
"It's worth considering. But from what I've seen since this morning, I haven't found many I'd call impressive. Their skill levels are all rather average, and none stand out as truly exceptional. Look at the three pairs dueling down there now—even compared to Ovikis, none of them are a match. The only decent one was that free knight who won three consecutive bouts this morning—Washima. Pat, go visit Sedecamp tonight and ask him whether he'd be willing to come train with our family for a while," Lorist said.
"Yes, my lord," Pat replied.
As the old saying went, "A lord chooses his ministers, but ministers also choose their lord." If a lord failed to satisfy these knights, they could simply leave to continue wandering or return home.
Old Balak shook his head. "My lord, recruiting that knight Washima may prove very difficult. He's a free knight, but unlike those aimless wandering knights, he doesn't drift from place to place. He has a considerable reputation here in Northland and comes from a well-off family. His father was a
"No wonder I felt his technique was so remarkably solid this morning. Hearing you explain it, it makes sense—he put in the hard work and built an absolutely rock-solid foundation. Go try anyway. You never know unless you ask," Lorist nodded.
"Heh heh, I'm wondering what expression Viscount Kemers must be wearing right about now. He wanted to attack our fortress and instead ended up hosting a knight carnival. He must be absolutely livid," Pat suddenly chuckled.
"Those lords aren't stupid. If we had seized the Kemers family's Red River Valley manor castle, they'd have fought tooth and nail if Viscount Kemers invited them to recapture it. But now we've burned the Red River Valley manor castle to the ground and retreated back to our own family territory. What choice does that leave those lords? They can't very well claim they're 'recapturing the Kemers family's territory' when there's not a single Norton soldier there. And if they attack us directly, they've only got a handful of family knights, a few dozen men-at-arms, and two or three hundred peasant militia. One look at Rock Fortress tells them that would be suicide. So this knightly challenge approach suits them perfectly—it lets them pay lip service to Viscount Kemers without truly offending our Norton Family. A win-win."
"But they never expected this noble war to turn into a knight carnival. That's something they neither foresaw nor can control. Look—there's another group arriving over there. Probably yet another lord who heard the news and came to join the fun," Lorist said, pointing into the distance with a smile.
…
Viscount Kemers was so furious he was about to explode. He had smashed everything inside his command tent that could be smashed.
He had refused those lords' invitations to watch the knight challenge duels. On the contrary, he felt deeply humiliated. He had invited those lords to attack the Norton Family, not to host a goddamn knight carnival! And those lords well knew that the Kemers family had no family knights of its own—yet they proceeded with knightly challenges. Wasn't that a direct mockery of the Kemers family as mere merchants rather than landed nobility?
Of course, Viscount Kemers himself possessed the Combat Force of a Silver Two-Star. He could theoretically enter the field. But the viscount knew his own abilities all too well. He had painstakingly cultivated his Combat Force to the Silver rank not to fight anyone in combat, but to seduce women and perform in bed. Leading from the rear on the battlefield was one thing; charging at the front was completely out of the question.
What the viscount hadn't anticipated was that the two-odd thousand soldiers his family had spent enormous effort recruiting and arming had nearly mutinied after two failed assaults. They still refused to obey his commands, accusing him of incompetent leadership. And the seven lords he had painstakingly invited were putting in minimal effort—not attacking the fortress but engaging in this farce of "noble warfare." Now the target of their punitive expedition, the Norton Family, was watching the show from atop the walls, while a horde of wandering knights from who-knew-where burned up the grounds below with their challenge duels. The sheer audacity of it all! He wanted to slaughter every last disobedient soldier and meddling wandering knight down to the last man.
"What a fine lord you are, sitting alone in your tent smashing things…" A cold voice drifted in from the tent entrance.
Viscount Kemers flinched as if struck by lightning and scrambled to his feet. "F-Father, you've come…"
"If I hadn't come, would I have to stand by and watch you destroy the last hope of our Kemers family?" Three figures entered the tent. The one in front was a stout, kindly-looking elderly man, but his face was tightly drawn, and his eyes glowed with a sinister, ruthless edge. He was the head of the Kemers family—the former chairman of the largest construction guild in the Krisen Empire, and the viscount's father.
The Kemers patriarch strode up to his son and, without a word, slapped him twice across the face.
Though the viscount held the power of a Silver Two-Star, he stood frozen like a cicada in winter before his Black Iron-ranked father, not daring to move a muscle. He could only stand there and take the beating.
"Do you know why I hit you?" the patriarch asked.
"No…" the viscount answered.
Slap! Slap! Two more strikes. The viscount's lip split open, and blood began to trickle down his chin.
"I'm asking you—why did you force our family soldiers to assault the Norton Family's fortress?" the patriarch demanded in a sharp voice.
"Th-They burned our manor, plundered our supplies, and seized our construction site! I-I wanted to take it back…" the viscount answered through his swollen mouth.
"Oh, is that so?" Slap! Slap! Slap! Six slaps in total.
Actually, he dispatched someone demanding the Norton Family surrender the one hundred thousand gold Forde and all the supplies they had plundered. The messenger was sent back empty-handed. The arrogant Gold Knight who accompanied him, Tabek, had both his hands crippled and was covered in wounds—it'll take a full year of treatment to recover." The patriarch delivered news that stunned his son.
The viscount's eyes lit up. "Then—then let's attack the Norton Family immediately! We have to seize back that hundred thousand gold Forde before Duke Lukins gets his hands on it—"
"Fool! What grounds do you have to attack the Norton Family? They don't even fear the Duke of Northland, and they crippled Tabek. What makes you think you can reclaim a hundred thousand gold Forde?"
"Bu-but last time I nearly reached their manor castle and besieged them for three months," the viscount protested indignantly.
"And do you know why the Norton Family is so defiant right now? Why the Flying Feather Mercenary Corps has vanished without a trace? How our manor was burned and our supplies plundered? You don't, do you? The Norton Family's second young master has returned. He brought a retinue with him—including, I hear, a Gold-ranked divine archer. And it was that same second young master who personally beat Tabek half to death. Now tell me—do you still have the confidence to march on the Norton Family's manor?" The patriarch let out a heavy sigh and sank into a chair.
"Is—is this information reliable?" The viscount was skeptical.
"The steward of Duke Lukins himself told me. I even spent a small fortune bribing several Silver Knights from the Northland Corps who had gone to the Norton Family's territory—they witnessed it all firsthand. By the time I left, Lukins was already assembling a force to march against the Norton Family," the patriarch said.
"Excellent! Then we can join the duke's army and attack the Norton Family together!" the viscount exclaimed.
"Idiot!" the patriarch roared. "Do you have the brain of a pig? All you can see is the Norton Family and your precious hundred thousand gold Forde in your secret coffers? You think entangling yourself with the duke will end well? The moment his army arrives, our family forces will be used as cannon fodder. Are you trying to extinguish the last ember of our family? Our priority right now is to steer clear of the duke's army, find a different target, and abandon the original plan entirely."
"But we've already suffered such heavy losses, and the Norton Family still took so many of our supplies…" the viscount said meekly.
"Consider it the price of a lesson! We can buy more slaves. We can raise more supplies. We can earn more gold. But if we discover that our target's strength exceeds what we can swallow and we still refuse to turn back, that's when we'll be truly and irreversibly destroyed. You accept your losses when you lose a gamble. We simply picked the wrong opponent. The Norton Family—worthy indeed of a noble lineage spanning two or three centuries. I thought they were spent, but their exiled second young master returned and turned the tables in an instant. In a way, this is fine. With the Norton Family standing in our path, I trust that Duke Lukins won't be paying attention to our movements until the Nortons are brought to heel. I fully expect the two of them to bleed each other dry…" The patriarch's eyes narrowed.
"Then—then what does our family do next?" the viscount asked.
The Kemers patriarch produced a beast-hide map of Northland and slammed his fist down on it. "Here. We strike here…"
…