Chapter 427: Old Stories, the Familiar Tournament (1)

“Isn’t this usually something the eastern knights handle?”

The one who asked was Rei.

Instead of answering, Kysis lifted one eyebrow. Most of the western corps knights would have started trembling in fear the moment they saw that reaction.

But Rei didn’t tremble.

He probably didn’t realize it himself, but even in moments like this, his solid status quietly shone through.

The way he didn’t worry about being dragged off for lèse-majesté even in front of imperial blood.

Rei still regarded Kysis as an idol, but he didn’t fear for his life in front of him.

That difference showed, subtly.

Kysis took a bite out of the apple.

“We’re short on hands.”

Juice burst into the air.

“They asked for the most useful ones from the western corps. An honor, isn’t it?”

Such boundless grace.

I muttered it to myself.

I didn’t say it out loud. I’d heard people say my nerve was bigger than most knights’, but I wasn’t an idiot.

Still, it seemed everything was written plainly on my face.

Kysis extended two fingers from the hand holding the apple and pointed at Kyle and me.

“Looks like you’re dissatisfied.”

“No, sir. Knight Kysis.”

Kyle smiled lightly.

Everyone could see the vein bulging at his temple.

“It’s an honor that you think so highly of us.”

“Thank you, Knight Kysis.”

I couldn’t stay silent either, so I added calmly,

“I’ll continue to devote myself.”

Kysis crunched into the apple.

Crunch, crunch. Juice ran between his fingers. A disgraceful sight, hard to believe imperial blood flowed through him.

The Empire’s Swordmaster lounged lazily in his chair, staring straight at us.

Then he pointed at Rei.

“This one doesn’t seem to be thinking too deeply.”

The finger slid sideways and pointed at Kyle.

“This one at least has a perfectly valid reason to hate the entire imperial family, so I’ll give him that.”

The finger moved again.

Why is it coming to me?

I’m managing my expression just fine....

“So what’s wrong with this one?”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

I asked before I could stop myself.

From Kyle’s and Rei’s side came a strange sound, like they were suppressing laughter.

I ignored it.

Kysis pretended not to hear it and asked,

“Your side still hurting?”

A provocation....

For a moment, irritation flared, but I tried not to show it.

It probably didn’t show on my face.

Probably.

“I’m fine.”

I smiled.

“You must be very busy, yet it was an honor to spar with you yesterday as well.”

“You seem hung up on the fact that you couldn’t cut even a single strand of my hair.”

That’s not it.

“You’ve got a surprisingly long grudge for a fledgling.”

I shot him a look of protest, but it was ignored.

Kysis flicked the apple core he’d finished eating out of the tent.

It landed with a soft thud in the grass. There was a reason nobles were always aghast whenever they saw Kysis. This platinum-blond knight usually behaved like this unless something truly important was happening. He was bored by everything and acted nothing like a noble.

Strangely enough, that attitude seemed to appeal to certain noblewomen.

I didn’t want to know anything about that.

Kysis stood up from the chair.

“I hear a truly remarkable rookie is entering the familiar tournament this time.”

At the casually tossed remark, we all flinched.

But no one answered.

I felt those violet eyes sweep over us one by one.

Kysis picked up his sword, which had been leaning against a wooden side table.

“I’ve heard the familiars registered to be taken into the match are no joke either. I’m thinking of visiting the familiar arena ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ myself for the first time in a while. Feels like it’ll be entertaining.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Kyle spoke in a cold voice.

At some point, he’d lifted his head fully and was staring straight into Kysis’s violet eyes.

“Knight Kysis.”

Kysis didn’t change his expression.

After meeting those blazing yellow eyes, he simply resecured the sword he’d loosened, fastening it back at his waist.

Light, but without hesitation.

The moment the scabbard was firmly set, wind stirred—and Cecil appeared.

Woooong!

The magician quietly took position several steps behind Kysis.

So the conversation was over.

Before stepping into the teleportation circle Cecil created, Kysis let a remark fall casually,

“Just saying—there’ll be more grotesque nobles crowding in than usual, so keep your wits about you.”

For someone who normally paid no attention to nobles at all, he sure talked like that.

I suppressed a sigh.

For Kyle’s sake.

Both Kyle and Kysis knew perfectly well that neither of them could openly acknowledge that consideration.

So we pretended not to notice.

And answered diligently.

“Yes.”

“We’ll be careful.”

“...Understood.”

The moment Kyle’s belated reply ended, Kysis and Cecil vanished from sight.

As if they had no more interest to spare for us.

***

“Kyle.”

That night, Rei and I entered Kyle’s tent.

It was my tent too, actually.

We’d been sharing one for a while. At some point, tents had started being assigned in pairs, and the western corps always paired me with Kyle. Neither of us had any complaints. If anything, we were grateful.

Every time, we were assigned the most wretched tent imaginable, yet we went in cheerfully and unpacked our meager belongings.

Rei, on the other hand, used a single-person tent thanks to the Count’s insistence, and that alone had caused no end of trouble.

Absolute chaos.

But I didn’t bother recalling past stories.

That wasn’t what mattered now.

What mattered was the familiar tournament, fast approaching.

“What is it.”

Kyle, his jet-black hair reaching his waist twisted into a loose knot, was wiping his neck with a damp cloth when he raised an eyebrow.

“What.”

“If something unfair happens at this familiar tournament.”

The one who spoke was Rei.

It was something the two of us had decided together. Rei would explain, and I’d just nod along.

We thought that would be more convincing.

“If someone’s going to rush into the arena, let it be Hilde. Not you or me.”

Kyle’s movements stopped dead.

The man perched on the worn-out cot narrowed his golden eyes.

Rei met that sharp gaze head-on.

“That’s the best option.”

“In what sense.”

A short reply came back.

He knew the answer and was asking anyway.

Of course, Rei noticed—and explained patiently.

“From other people’s perspective. If you rush out, there’ll definitely be nobles protesting that a fellow conquered person is overstepping. If I rush out, they’ll say the Renyr family is interfering with the fairness of the match.”

“Before all that, we’re Imperial Knights. We were formally ordered to perform an escort duty, and we’re there to respond to unreasonable situations. What does your status or mine have to do with that?”

“In principle, you’re right.”

Rei answered after listening to Kyle’s rebuttal, spoken with effort to keep his anger from spilling over.

Perched on the edge of my cot, there was none of his usual innocence to be found.

Rei looked at Kyle with the calm composure of someone born and raised in a noble house.

A moment that made you forget he was the youngest among us.

“But you also know very well that things won’t actually play out that way.”

After delivering those firm words, he lowered his brows.

“With Hilde, it’ll still be acceptable. It’s not like Hilde is particularly close with that red-haired handler.... And once people hear he’s from the Temple, they’ll definitely react more leniently.”

Kyle didn’t get angry.

He didn’t deny it either. He just furrowed his brow and raked his fingers through his hair.

Our friend sat in silence for a while.

Only after some time passed did he let out a heavy sigh.

“Fine.”

Kyle straightened his bent back and looked at us.

“Let’s do that. Thank you.”

Thank goodness.

The moment I heard his answer, a smile formed from sheer relief and pride.

Rei, sitting beside me, let out a sigh of relief as well.

Kyle snorted as he looked at us.

“You two put in the effort.”

“Good. I was worried you wouldn’t appreciate our hard work.”

“Worry about Hilde’s side instead.”

“What?”

I froze at the sudden turn in the conversation.

“Why did it suddenly jump to my side?”

“Maybe because, once again, you came back with Knight Kysis stabbing you in the side?”

Rei replied with a sweet smile.

Caught off guard, I pressed my lips into a thin line, while Kyle tossed the damp cloth into the basket of laundry.

Thud! The cloth landed squarely inside. Kyle turned to look at me.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you? Leaving the wound untreated out of sheer stubbornness.”

“...It’ll heal if I leave it alone.”

“You can absorb energy—so why are you being this stubborn?”

Kyle’s eyebrow twitched.

It was a question my peers had thrown at me dozens of times.

And every time, I avoided answering. Whether they got angry, tried to coax me gently, or snapped in irritation, I never gave an honest response.

I didn’t know why.

I just couldn’t answer honestly.

It felt like they wouldn’t understand me making such a fuss over something already past....

Even thinking about an answer made my stomach feel off. In any case, I had no intention of replying this time either.

When I clamped my mouth shut and lowered my gaze diagonally, sighs escaped from both the front and my side.

Rei spoke in a resigned voice.

“I’ll transfer energy to you, so at least accept that.”

“I’m really fine. The wound isn’t that deep. Even Kysis has his own line he doesn’t cross.”

“If you’re going to say you’ll rush into the arena in my place if something happens, then get treated properly.”

Kyle snapped firmly.

“You brought it up—so you should take responsibility for it, Hildebert.”

It was a sharp point, and it left me speechless.

Biting my lip, darting my gaze around, I eventually had no choice but to accept my friends’ words.

I wish I could become indifferent to absorption already....

***

I received the transfer from Rei, and the day of the tournament arrived quickly.

The familiar tournament.

The Emperor always attended the finals. Even the earlier matches drew large crowds of nobles. The security personnel and attendants they privately hired swarmed the place.

Commoners funneled toward other entrances, carefully avoiding them.

The sun beat down harshly.

People selling water were making a tidy profit. The smell of boiled eggs, grilled chicken-and-mushroom skewers, and all kinds of infused liquors tickled my nose.

The air simmered with anticipation and heat.

A deeply rooted traditional entertainment of the Empire.

In principle, a stage where superiority was decided solely by handling skill, regardless of status.

Every year, the final victor claimed tremendous wealth and honor.

I surveyed the arena with my senses sharpened.

“Grand Duke Jacques is here too.”

Rei spoke in surprise.

“I thought he didn’t attend things like this.”

Kyle snorted.

Rei and I turned our heads, but he just stood there with arms crossed, looking down at the arena, and said nothing more.

The black-haired knight held a particular dislike for the Empire’s Minister of Finance.

He’d never given a clear reason. It felt like a sore spot, so I hadn’t pressed him.

None of us had any particular connection with Grand Duke Jacques, so we let it pass.

There were too many famous faces appearing one after another to even process it all.

“Are you kidding me. That’s Meierbold?”

Rei gaped at the bizarre figure with eyes wrapped in cloth.

“He actually leaves the mage tower?”

There were many others. The High Priest. A Swordmaster said to challenge Kysis to a duel every time they met. A famous Saint. A baronial family. An imperial-exclusive handler....

Once they finished taking their seats, transparent defensive magic enveloped the VIP section.

At the same time, a bell rang out loudly, announcing the start of the match.

Deng— Deng—

Already scattered to our positions, we watched the opening of the tournament with our senses fully alert.

The arena gates opened, and Creatures and humans entered side by side.