Chapter 108: Her Dream, My Victory

For a moment, I wanted to ask if I’d heard wrong, but Hilda’s eyes were dead serious. She wanted to enter the tournament? Her lifelong dream was to compete in a tournament? Now I finally understood why Hilda, as a woman, had learned horsemanship and mounted combat.

But the problem was that this era strictly forbade women from taking the initiative. The ideal woman, the virtue this age pursued, was one who bore legitimate heirs and quietly managed household affairs. Sure, there was the example of Joan of Arc, but that was an extremely rare and special case.

I wanted to support whatever Hilda wanted to do, but realistically, this was a difficult wish to grant. I couldn’t ignore the desperate look in her eyes, so I agonized over it. The only solution was for her to compete while hiding her identity. Plate armor would help conceal the fact that she was a woman.

However, tournaments were incredibly dangerous. Even with various safety rules in place, a rider could die from being thrown from their horse or have their head smashed by a poorly aimed lance strike. Sure, compared to actual combat it was tamer, but I couldn’t send Hilda into such a brutal arena.

What should I do?

Caught between a rock and a hard place.

I’d never agonized this much before. It felt like wandering through a maze with no exit. But then Hilda, who’d been watching silently, suddenly pulled me into an embrace. I’d been worried she’d be disappointed because I was hesitating so much, but surprisingly, Hilda seemed to be in good spirits.

"Thank you. For thinking about it so seriously."

"...Why are you thanking me for that?"

"Most nobles would’ve dismissed my wish as trivial. But Wolf, you thought about it for my sake. That alone makes me so happy. A dream is just a dream, after all."

The Middle Ages were filled with harsh discrimination against progressive women like Hilda. The fact that Hilda had revealed her wish to compete in the tournament showed she had faith that I would accept it. That’s why she was moved by how seriously I was considering it.

Hilda seemed satisfied with just that.

But now that I’d heard what was in her heart, I couldn’t just leave it alone.

So what I came up with was having Hilda teach me mounted combat properly.

"I was planning to skip the tournament to spend time together, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m entering the tournament. As a knight competing there, I’ll carry my lady’s honor and become the champion."

"Wolf, I’m so happy, but you don’t have to push yourself."

"So then, teach me mounted combat properly."

Hilda was speechless for a moment, as if this were an unexpected proposal. Before the campaign, I’d learned mounted combat from Hilda briefly, but it had been literally just the basics. Having witnessed Hilda’s mounted combat skills, I’d always thought she was a better rider than I was.

What if I combined this with the Mounted Combat Manual? Wouldn’t that create a synergy effect?

Since my Stage 1 proficiency had reached 98, I figured that with just a bit more effort I could advance to Stage 2.

"...Are you serious?"

"I’m serious. You have to see the knight you trained become champion."

She couldn’t compete in the tournament as a woman, but couldn’t she feel vicarious satisfaction watching the knight she’d trained win? Especially if that knight was her beloved husband. Hilda had revealed that she’d not only learned mounted combat but could handle a lance as well. Still, she was reluctant.

"Why are you hesitating? You were the one who taught me mounted combat before the campaign."

"I’d love to teach you everything I can. But Wolf, I might raise my voice at you for the first time. If that shakes our love, I’d rather give up."

An ordinary noble would either fail to endure it or dismiss her by saying, "What does a woman know?"

But I’m no ordinary noble, and I’m not a man so weak-willed that I couldn’t handle her instruction. If I were, I wouldn’t have even thought to learn horsemanship and mounted combat from Hilda in the first place. I understood what she was worried about, so I needed to put her concerns to rest.

So I persuaded her with all my heart and soul.

It felt as if I poured out every flowery phrase I had, as though using the Diplomat Scouter.

Bright and warm as her wine-colored hair, Hilda accepted.

I was dead serious right now. It was for Hilda and no one else, so no other motivation could match it. Even if I didn’t win the tournament, I could still show her my determination. I wanted to fulfill her small wish one way or another.

"Remember when we danced in the cathedral courtyard?"

"Of course. An unforgettable memory. Even though I didn’t know your name then."

"The Lord must have bound us together by fate."

Nestled in my arms, she whispered.

Lord or whatever, it was definitely fate.

The fact that my fated partner had been in another world was why I’d been single all that time.

When we returned to the banquet hall, the Grand Duke and the other royals had arrived, and nobles were swarming toward them. They were working hard to make a good impression on the Grand Duke and Crown Prince. If they could just catch the Grand Duke’s eye, they might land a position, so they were desperate. The same situation as the Euz nobles who’d swarmed Fried.

But there was an unfamiliar girl sitting next to the Crown Prince with a bored expression. She seemed to be Princess Evangeline, of whom I’d only heard. Seeing Evangeline, Hilda said she’d go greet her and headed that way. Since Hilda had been childhood friends with the Crown Prince, she was naturally close to the Princess too. Evangeline welcomed her with delight.

I thought Hilda’s social skills and connections were impressive.

Especially compared to my own extremely narrow network.

I’d expected Marquis Bertheim to attend, but the old man was nowhere to be seen. Then again, he was retired, so it would be strange for him to have much external activity. When I had time, I should visit and mooch some tea. When I returned to my seat, Michael and Fiel were all over me again, being a nuisance.

"I’ll participate, so please stop already."

"Oh! Good thinking, brother-in-law. I was at a loss for how to report this to Father."

Michael’s gloomy face brightened as though a weight had been lifted.

But why did he need to report to my father-in-law whether I was participating in the tournament?

"Is my father-in-law also entering the tournament?"

"Obviously. He’ll participate in every event. By the way, we’re already signed up to compete as Father’s knights in the team competition, so don’t you dare skip out. Let’s crush those Imperial Knights bastards this time!"

Apparently I’d been signed up for the team competition without even knowing. And surprisingly, my father-in-law participated every time a tournament was held in Beren. That was why Michael and Ulrich were forced to participate too. Their results weren’t great, but my father-in-law had won a whopping 13 times.

My younger brother-in-law Ulrich had been dispatched due to a problem with the eastern border defense. So I was in the position of having to participate in the tournament in Ulrich’s place. In the end, even if I refused, I was going to be forced to participate anyway.

If the order comes from my father-in-law and not someone else, I have no choice but to obey.

Fiel said to me:

"I’ll teach you how to use a lance properly."

"Sorry, but I’ve already decided on my instructor."

"What? An instructor?"

I just smiled meaningfully. Fiel was disappointed, but he promised to fight with everything he had if we met at the tournament grounds. Among the knights I knew, Fiel was the best with a lance. I didn’t know how things would turn out, but isn’t it the spirit of youth to clash without regrets? Of course, I had no intention of losing.

We talked at length about the tournament. Normally when a tournament is held, knights gather from all over the country, and considering travel time in this period, it’s held two weeks later. They compete in individual and team events, and if you lose, you pay a ransom and can participate again.

In other words, no matter how many times you lose, as long as you have money, you can keep challenging until you run out. That’s why bankers and noble moneylenders are always on standby around the tournament grounds. Bank counters are Tier 1 financing, and noble moneylenders are Tier 2 financing. There’s even a worst-case Tier 3 financing run by Jews.

Hearing this, I almost spat out the wine I was drinking.

That’s why there are countless poor knights who participate in tournaments hoping to strike it rich.