He looked at Karl El, then at the Martial Arts Tournament long spear in his hand, which was almost identical to Karl El's long spear, and swallowed.
"The match begins!" The referee suddenly waved his hand down.
As soon as the referee announced the start, he reined in his warhorse and loudly shouted, "I surrender! I will not be an enemy of Nymph!"
"Hahaha! He must be scared!"
"Exactly, no need to think about it, if I were beaten like that, I'd be scared too!"
"The injuries these people sustained in the previous matches haven't even healed yet."
The audience burst into an uproar, mixed with understanding chuckles and a few boos.
Karl El pursed his lips under his helmet and bowed slightly, accepting this unexpected victory.
In the second round, the draw showed that Karl El's opponent was from the White Rose Team.
It was the vice-captain who had been sent flying by Karl El's halberd earlier and was now walking with a slight limp.
The opponent sat on his horse with a grim expression, seemingly engaged in a fierce internal struggle.
Finally, at the referee's command, both charged, and just before their long spears were about to clash...
He suddenly pulled his horse's head to the side, allowing Karl El's long spear to easily tap his chest plate, symbolically completing the match.
Then, he smiled with relief and quickly left the arena.
His almost perfunctory way of surrendering once again sparked discussion in the stands.
"It seems our Nymph Team's young man has scared the wits out of them. Interesting, truly interesting."
Foltest watched with relish from under the awning, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.
Triss had a barely perceptible smile on her lips, while Kaira pouted, "Hmph! He's just scaring people with brute force. Mounted long spear combat places more emphasis on skill and horsemanship."
Fikat immediately interjected, "But to establish such deterrence with just one victory is itself an extraordinary display of strength, Kaira."
In the third round, Karl El was lucky enough to draw a bye, advancing directly.
There were even sighs of relief in the stands; some were relieved that Karl El wouldn't have to brutalize another opponent, while others were relieved that another knight had avoided the embarrassment of facing Karl El directly.
In the final four, the other three knights drew lots to face each other, and the winner would face Karl El in the final.
That duel was exceptionally fierce; the three seemed to vent their frustration and fear of not being able to fight Karl El on each other.
Ultimately, another knight from the White Rose Team, who had not directly faced Karl El, emerged victorious.
However, when he returned to the arena and looked at Karl El, who was calmly holding his long spear and sitting on his horse opposite him, his courage, freshly won from the bitter fight, seemed to instantly dissipate.
His warhorse also seemed to sense its master's emotions and began to pace uneasily.
"Woo!" The horn for the final blew.
The White Rose knight and Karl El charged at each other. He tried his best to win with skill, pointing his long spear directly at the center of Karl El's shield.
But at the moment the two horses crossed and the long spears collided, everyone heard only a dull thud, like hitting leather, not the spear tip hitting the shield.
Instead, Karl El had moved later but arrived first, precisely deflecting his opponent's spear tip with the butt of his own spear, while his own blunt-tipped spear gently touched the front of his opponent's gorget.
At this moment, Karl El's movements were light and precise, completely different from the wild ferocity he displayed in the earlier melee.
The White Rose knight froze in place, feeling the undeniable pressure at his throat.
Finally, he slowly lowered the long spear in his hand and sincerely bowed his head to Karl El, admitting defeat.
The referee loudly announced, "The winner of this Mounted Long Spear Martial Arts Tournament is — Nymph Team, Karl El!"
"Oh! Karl El, the ultimate victor."
"Hehe, I bet on him before the match. I made a fortune this time."
"Damn it, I didn't bet on this knight at all. Hey, buddy, how much did you bet?"
"Hmph, not much, just one oren."
"Damn, brother, you're so rich. That's almost three months of my income."
Cheers erupted again, though not as widespread and shocking as after the melee, there was more recognition and respect for an absolute powerhouse... That evening, the royal banquet hall was brightly lit and resplendent.
Karl El had changed into a well-fitting dark blue formal suit, far more luxurious than his usual clothes.
This was not something he had bought, but something Triss had prepared for him in advance.
His tall stature and energetic state, showing no signs of fatigue after the afternoon's intense battle, made him the center of attention as soon as he entered the hall.
He was a completely different person from the sweaty, dusty, and menacing warrior image he had presented that afternoon.
At this moment, he resembled a low-key yet powerful young noble.
Indeed, just as he had expected, and even somewhat worried about.
As soon as he entered, he was almost immediately surrounded by a flock of women.
Perfumes of varying intensity wafted over, and fans adorned with feathers accompanied charming smiles.
The noblewomen and young ladies who had thrown petals and handkerchiefs for him that afternoon now brazenly displayed their "enthusiasm."
"Mr. El, your performance today was truly... breathtaking."
"I wonder if I might have the honor of hearing you elaborate on those splendid moments? I have excellent red wine in my room..."
A Countess with a very low-cut neckline almost pressed herself against him, her eyes flirtatiously moving.
"And me, Sir Knight, my husband is far away at the border, and the nights are long. Perhaps you need some... solace?"
Another Viscountess cleverly squeezed past the former and slipped a scented note with an address into Karl El's hand.
"Lord Karl El, your arms are truly strong. I wonder if you would do me the honor of being my dance partner, and perhaps... teach me how to hold a 'long spear' tightly?"
A young noblewoman was boldly stroking his muscular forearm.
Karl El maintained a polite yet distant smile, skillfully deflecting overly enthusiastic physical contact, as smoothly as he had parried weapons in the Martial Arts Tournament.
He took the scented note and, without even looking at it, put it in his pocket (intending to dispose of it later).
As for the explicit invitations, he politely declined with impeccable manners.
"Thank you for your kindness, madam. But a true knight should not discuss conquests that did not occur on the battlefield or in the arena."
"Your husband serves the country, madam. You should maintain your fidelity to him. Please forgive me for being unable to accept."
"Miss, your dance steps are far more exquisite than mine, but I have already promised the first dance and all my dances tonight."
Karl El's gaze swept past these eager women and accurately found Triss, who was talking with Kaira in a corner of the hall.
At this moment, Triss was also watching him from a distance.
Her fiery red hair, like a burning flame under the lights, held a hint of playful understanding and gentle warmth in her emerald eyes.
Karl El blinked a few times, sending her a look of appeal for help.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Robertt45