“How about a glass of whiskey?”
“Sounds good. It’s been a while since we’ve had a drink that could make our noses crooked.”
Uncharacteristically warm for the always cold climate of the North, the Speda ducal house was filled with a heated fervor.
Even the Colosseum, usually quiet, was bustling with people today.
Today was none other than the day of the largest event in the North, the martial arts tournament, a spectacle only possible on such an occasion. Duke Speda nodded in satisfaction at the scene laid out below the castle.
“Attention everyone! There will be a speech by Duke Speda before the martial arts tournament!”
Proving he was not yet old, Speda Duke ascended the platform set up on one side of the Colosseum, accompanied by the booming voice of Yegor.
“Greetings, warriors of the North.”
He surveyed the lords and people from other territories who had gathered like clouds, as well as the participants, and once again reflected on the purpose of this martial arts tournament.
Talent development and selection.
The North is always threatened by demons and monsters, big and small. Therefore, it was necessary to discover talented individuals in martial arts.
Accepting anyone from the North as a participant and opening the doors of the ducal vault was done to attract these individuals.
Ambition, honor, competitive spirit, relics.
The vitality created by these various desires was quite satisfying to the duke.
“Some of you may be curious about the prize for winning the tournament, as it has not been properly announced.”
Although the nobles knew through rumors, there were also commoners present who had no contact with them.
‘The participants’ reactions are going to be interesting.’
The duke smiled and opened his mouth.
“The prize for winning is an entry ticket to the ducal vault. You may take out any relic you want.”
– Wow!
– Vault? Did he just say ‘vault’?
A ‘vault entry ticket’.
Not just something predetermined by the ducal house, but a privilege for the winner to choose for themselves, an unexpectedly groundbreaking prize had both participants and spectators screaming in excitement.
“Duke really is generous.”
“The fight will become even fiercer for the sake of the reward.”
The spectator stands buzzed with excitement once more.
Yes, this was the scene he wanted. The duke secretly smiled at the reaction of the residents.
The central infrastructure, the Eastern delicacies, the Western casinos, the Southern gold markets.
The Ice Continent had none of these.
Due to external threats and the harsh environment, even leisure activities were scarce.
Shouldn’t there be at least this kind of entertainment once a year in the North?
Although the history of the martial arts tournament was long, originally, one-on-one duels were the exclusive domain of the nobility.
Allowing commoners to participate as contestants and bringing in a large number of residents as spectators.
He had changed all that.
To Yegor, he had given various excuses, such as the need to select talented individuals or to demonstrate the strength of the next generation of warriors to ensure future security for the residents.
But the duke’s true purpose lay in the pure enjoyment of the local residents watching the tournament.
‘Come to think of it, wasn’t that servant also participating?’
A foreigner who hadn’t been in the North for long.
Originally, he was far from meeting the participation criteria of the tournament.
A voice flashed through the duke’s mind.
-“Father, how about giving Hans a chance as well?”
…Even though he’s from the West.
-“He’s practically a Northerner now. He can even compete with me on equal footing. He’s sure to bring a significant upset to this martial arts tournament. Please consider it.”
How long had it been since he had heard such a earnest request from his daughter?
‘After all, it would be problematic to be so rigid towards someone who could be considered a benefactor of the Speda ducal house.’
In the end, he allowed him to participate at his own discretion.
If he performs well in this martial arts tournament, that in itself would bring about a good trend.
‘It would serve as a perfect excuse to allow people from other regions to participate.’
He could even look forward to the influx of goods and tourism benefits, such as increased attention from various regions.
“Then, let’s all witness the valor of our Northern warriors together.”
Unaware that he was unknowingly rooting for a foreigner until the very end.
With his words, the Colosseum was once again filled with applause and cheers.
***
“It’s incredible.”
The fervor of the North’s biggest event, unseen in games, could rival the oasis and casinos in Hans Byron’s memory of the West.
“Haha, is that so?”
Luciana, proud of the North, also let out a laugh at my compliment.
Lately, she had been smiling more often than wearing a poker face, busy with sharpening her sword.
“Coincidentally, you and I are in different groups.”
I agree.
It’s really uncertain whether it’s purely coincidental or arranged.
Anyway, being in different groups in a tournament-style competition means that there would be no match between Luciana and me until the finals, if at all.
She, of course, would make it to the finals without any trouble.
Being a promising mercenary who single-handedly wiped out a group of monsters, and a lady from the Frontal Count’s family known for her unprecedented magical talent.
There might be some notable competitors, but that’s it. In actual combat, Luciana would likely easily overpower them.
“See you in the finals.”
“Oh, what a tall order for a servant.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
She placed her hand on my shoulder as if to encourage me.
“You must never lose to that idiot from the Baltrion family. Understand?”
-Crack.
Apparently, she didn’t intend to stop at mere encouragement, as she put so much force into her hand on my shoulder that it made a sound.
“Ow! That hurts!”
“Oh, I seem to have misjudged my strength.”
Contrary to her calm tone, her face unmistakably showed an uncharacteristic sign of embarrassment.
As if trying to cover up that expression, she quickly changed the subject.
“So, your answer?”
“Is there even a question? I’ll break that proud nose of his and make sure he’s eliminated in the preliminaries. Don’t worry.”
I never doubted myself in the first place.
After all, I am someone who has won against Luciana in sparring!
‘Though there’s the very minor detail of a 1:9 ratio.’
The shameless young lord of the Baltrion family.
Dmitri Baltrion.
One of the highly touted contenders for the championship, but compared to Luciana, he’s no more than a firefly in front of the sun.
“Rather, Lady Luciana should be worried. Who knows if I might defeat the lady in the final?”
“You’re presumptuous for a servant, but that’s exactly what I’m hoping for. Do your best.”
-Ding Ding Ding!
Just then, the bell signaling the start of the match rang out in the Colosseum’s waiting room.
-Participants, Dmitri Baltrion and Hans Byron, please move to your designated positions.
“I won’t say more since you have to go compete. Win and come back.”
“I will heed your command.”
Empowered by Luciana’s support, I slowly entered the Colosseum.
The multitude of spectators in the stands, Duke Speda looking down from the VIP seats, and young lord Dmitri Baltrion of the Baltrion count’s family, drawing his sword and waiting in front of me.
All eyes were on me.
***
Dmitri had been waiting for this day for a long time.
Position, martial prowess, even the achievements of his coming-of-age ceremony.
It was time to settle the past, where he was constantly compared in all aspects and even humiliated at social gatherings.
‘The groupings are perfect.’
Unlike Luciana’s group, which was filled with fairly well-known individuals, this one was full of nobodies.
They might try their best in their own way, but without their family names, they’re nothing special.
Even an outsider has participated in the martial arts tournament for the first time.
-Participants, Dmitri Baltrion and Hans Byron, please move to your designated positions.
Hans Byron.
The moment he heard that name, Dmitri clenched his fist in suppressed joy.
This man was the oddity of this martial arts tournament, tagged as being from the West.
‘It seems they’ve put him against me in the very first match to quickly eliminate an outsider, and I’ll oblige. The ducal house is quite cruel, after all.’
Isn’t he a servant brought from the West?
To discard him so ruthlessly.
Standing in his place, he raised his weapon.
It was the same greatsword that had sliced through the thick hide of a Northern orc during his coming-of-age ceremony.
“Hey, Hans Byron. How about you forfeit now?”
“Thank you for the suggestion, but I must decline. I have my own ambitions, as any person does.”
“…You’re aiming for the prize. You have some grandiose ideas above your station.”
Tsk,
Dmitri clicked his tongue, further lowering his opinion of his opponent.
This was the problem with the Westerners and Southerners. Blinded by gold and relics in front of their eyes, without considering their own skills or who their opponent might be.
Of course, people from the East, and even the Central regions, weren’t much different. There were plenty who lacked the crucial ability to gauge the level of a fight. Only the North.
Only Northerners, who swear to carry only one sword throughout their lives and to tie their feet to the front lines, truly respect the value of a warrior.
“No more talk is necessary. Witness the spirit of a Northerner for yourself.”
Wow~!
Cheers came from the stands, in contrast to the numerous jeers poured onto the opponent.
‘Huh, how about that. Outsider.’
Dmitri’s eyes gleamed with a cunning light.
People tend to shrink when they’re criticized. He was curious to see how this foreigner, who dared to refuse his warning, would react.
While there were exceptions like Duke Speda, who actively employed foreigners, the people of the North were fundamentally insular.
However, the opponent didn’t move at all, regardless of the jeers. There was no sign of pressure in the slightly narrowed eyes between the slits.
“Then, let the match begin!”
Even after the referee announced the start of the duel, he simply crossed his arms and twitched his leg.
Dmitri’s eyes narrowed.
What was the source of this composure?
A weapon? Or perhaps some confident magic?
Minor thoughts crept into Dmitri’s mind.
With no knowledge about the opponent, he hesitated to blindly charge in.
But….
‘With one step on the ground and three steps, I shall reach the sky.’
Recalling the sword technique he had repeated until his ears bled, Dmitri assumed a defensive stance with his greatsword raised in front of him.
It didn’t matter what tricks the opponent was hiding.
Hasty attacks often lead to irreversible crises.
At the moment he tries to penetrate, he planned to immediately retaliate.
A proper knight must be able to switch freely between offense and defense in just a single step.
“That armor looks really nice.”
“?”
“The lion’s head decoration on the chest, and the magic stone in its eyes. It doesn’t seem like anything ordinary; is it a relic?”
Dmitri’s face contorted in bewilderment at the unexpected comment.
The gaze of the man examining his armor as if appraising it was soaked in greed.
“…I’ve misjudged you.”
I thought you had some tricks up your sleeve.
But you were just distracted by the relic.
‘Well, it is something a young noble from a baron’s family would covet.’
The armor, obtained from the vault as a replacement for the amplification orb stolen by that mad thief, was worn by his ancestor and specialized in deflecting piercing attacks.
For Luciana, who preferred to wield a rapier, this armor was a powerful relic that could completely neutralize one of her tactics.
“Yes, my opponent is Luciana, not this small fry.”
Finally, Dmitri reminded himself of his goal and regained his composure.
At the same time, a strong sense of displeasure engulfed him.
The opponent in front of him was just a stepping stone.
After all, he was from an insignificant baron’s family he had never heard of, coming to the North to serve as a servant. There’s no way he could have a hidden trick that he would lose to!
‘I hear he’s Luciana’s servant. It would be fine to smash that pretty face of his.’
“You’ll regret stepping into this martial tournament without knowing your place!”
“Wow. Just based on aura alone, you might even surpass the lady.”
‘How cheeky.’
***
A colorless aura surged around Dmitri’s greatsword. True to his nature, it overflowed beyond the blade, undulating like a mirage, unrestrained.
Even as the wind pressure generated by the aura tousled my hair, I maintained my initial stance.
“Wha?!”
‘I can see it clearly.’
A chronic issue with Northern knights.
They all tend to have large preparatory movements.
Against the sharp attack swooping down as if to split the sky, this time I took two steps to the right and one step forward, ducking my waist.
The sword barely missed me.
“Why… Why doesn’t it hit!”
“I’m not a monster, you know. How do you expect to fight in a duel with that kind of swordplay?”
Of course, Northern swordsmanship had evolved to cut through the thick hides of monsters, necessitating firepower in its development.
But such a style could never catch Hans Byron.
“Then, it’s my turn now.”
Dmitri, who had been swinging at empty air, seemed to snap back to reality.
But it was far too late.
Kicking off the ground, I charged straight into his square.
His dismayed face was clearly in my view.
***
Ignoring defense in a fit of rage had painful consequences.
Hans had already closed in to a short distance.
Still, Dmitri thought he could dodge like swatting a fly, confident in his victory.
The armor passed down from his ancestors was there to staunchly protect him.
Dmitri made a cold judgment.
‘Good. The distance has closed, so I just need to withstand the opponent’s attack and strike back.’
So, even when he saw Hans pulling something out, he only thought of counterattacking.
However, Dmitri was soon plunged into a second shock.
Swoosh-
Clank.
The moment Hans’ weapon touched the white lion armor, the clasp came undone, and it split in two, falling to the ground.
Faced with a scene beyond understanding, Dmitri’s mind went blank.
“The winner! Hans Byron!”
When he came to his senses, Hans’ dagger was already stopped at his chest.
Dmitri’s face twisted in dismay.
Cliche Novel 