Chapter 121: Caught in His Own Trap

"Bereit!"

Anger is one of the seven deadly sins designated by the Church. But I think anger is a powerful driving force that lets humans exceed their limits. And controlling it is the role of cold reason.

"Anfang!"

"Hyah!"

I charged forward powerfully on Mont Blanc. In top condition, at peak physical state, and with F-Rank Tournament Knight (Impact 20%, Defense 20%), I feared nothing. Lowering my lance horizontally, I focused my gaze on the Knights commander charging from the far end.

I remembered Hilda’s advice.

’The Imperial Knights commander is inconsistent.’

’You mean you can’t predict how he’ll attack?’

’He prefers unconventional moves over formulaic fighting. And he’s pretty impulsive.’

’That type is actually more troublesome.’

’He won’t hesitate to foul. That’s why my brother’s been grinding his teeth over him.’

Looking at how he’d fought dirty against that veteran knight in round 4 and how he’d just drawn aggro from all sides, the Knights commander was definitely skilled at deceiving opponents. If it meant gaining an advantage, he’d use any means necessary. Of course he would. What else would you expect from someone with deceit (evil)?

While picking a target on his shield, a strange sensation came over me.

I noticed the outer edge of the Knights commander’s shield as he charged from across the field. Hitting that spot with my lance probably wouldn’t have much effect, right? But I unconsciously locked onto it as my target. I didn’t know why I did that, but it turned out to be the best choice.

Because the Knights commander suddenly swerved inward mid-charge.

Crack!

Thud!

"Aaagh!"

As a result, the outer edge of the shield I’d aimed for shifted to the inner edge—right at the center of gravity—and tremendous impact hammered the Knights commander. The moment he fell off his horse, a lance shot up dangerously between my left shoulder and helmet. Judging from the trajectory, he’d clearly been targeting my shoulder, not my shield.

This bastard committed a foul on the very first pass.

But his timing was just slightly off, so the Knights commander took the hit instead. He’d probably intended to rattle me further, assuming I’d already lost my composure, and break me down completely—but it backfired. His foul left him open to a counter, and the tremendous impact sent him tumbling off his horse.

It was incredibly quiet.

Almost too quiet for an arena.

After replacing my shattered lance with a new one and turning around at the end of the jousting field, I found the surroundings wrapped in silence. Nobody seemed to have expected the Knights commander to be unhorsed in just one pass. I caught sight of the Imperial Knights’ shocked expressions. Pretty satisfying.

Waaah!

The spectators’ cheers shook the ground.

War Ministry knights ran up to the entrance, cheering enthusiastically. Honestly, I was still pretty dazed myself. Was this the kind of instinct you develop when you’re in top condition? It was almost like precognition. Even I hadn’t known the Knights commander would change direction at that exact moment.

The Knights commander, struck by an unexpected blow, struggled for a while before barely pulling himself together. Getting hit when you’re braced for it versus getting hit when you’re caught off guard are completely different things. He barely managed to stand with the Imperial Knights’ support. He paid me the ransom and requested a rematch.

Taking a deep breath, I checked my physical condition and state.

My body still seemed to be overflowing with vitality.

This time, the Knights commander aimed honestly for the center of my shield.

Thud!

A heavy impact struck me, but surprisingly, it was bearable—thanks to the medical service putting me in peak physical condition. I maintained my balance, enduring with my core and thigh strength. But my attack unfortunately missed.

After crossing and passing, I took my position at the end of the jousting field again.

The Knights commander charged powerfully.

My gut told me this bastard was going to foul again. The honest attack just now was probably bait for this one. Normally I’d just sense that he was going to foul, but this time the specific foul the Knights commander intended was crystal clear to me. So I set up for a counter.

When his lance went over the top of my shield to target my left shoulder, I was ready—I dodged at the right moment, then accurately struck the center of the Knights commander’s shield. A perfect counterattack. Unpredictable attacks are scary, but if you can read them, countering becomes this easy.

The heightened awareness from top condition made all the Knights commander’s movements crystal clear. Spending 5,000 points on the medical service was worth every single one. And I understood why it was priced at the staggering amount of 5,000 points. If I spammed this, I’d become the Terminator.

The Knights commander, hit by the counter, ended up falling off his horse a second time. I tossed aside the broken lance and got a new one from Ted. When I raised the lance triumphantly, the cheers grew even louder. I returned to my position at a leisurely pace, looking down at the clearly flustered Imperial Knights.

If you strike anywhere but the shield, you get a warning from the referee. If you keep committing dangerous fouls, the referee can declare a forfeit depending on the situation. But the Knights commander was a master at toeing the line. And unless you directly aim for the head, it usually just ends with a warning.

Plenty of tournament knights commit sneaky fouls—just not as boldly as the Knights commander. Luckily, the knights I’d faced so far had been far from the fouling type. Even the cavalry commander didn’t commit fouls. Comparing the Knights commander to the Grand Duke’s Guard commander, who fought with everything he had and played clean, would be an insult to the latter.

This time too, the Knights commander paid the ransom and requested a rematch. Yeah, come at me all you want. Right now, I didn’t feel like I’d lose to anyone. He’d provoked me and forced me to use the medical service. In the end, wasn’t he the one caught in his own trap?

The Knights commander’s physical condition had clearly deteriorated. He’d won round 4 with a foul, but he must’ve accumulated serious fatigue from fighting fiercely against that veteran knight. He’d thrown out that provocation to compensate and break my composure, but it ended up backfiring.

His plan had succeeded too perfectly.

He made me blow 5,000 points in one shot.

The Knights commander stood in the jousting field again. With all his plans falling apart, he seemed to have lost his own composure instead. Feeling an ominous premonition, I checked his psychology again through the Manager Scouter. The mockery he’d shown me earlier had turned to clear murderous intent.

Things aren’t going his way, so now he wants to kill me? Just because the Knights commander had murderous intent didn’t mean I’d cower. I’d fought countless battles with my life on the line—this was child’s play. And his plan was already laid bare.

The Knights commander’s lance was clearly aimed at my head.

Not a sneaky foul, but a blatant attempt to kill me.

I didn’t dodge—I faced it head-on. Better to strike back than to retreat.

I raised my lance at the right moment to deflect his, and as the lances tangled, both shattered. But my lance, with only the middle shaft remaining after the tip broke off, accidentally stabbed the Knights commander’s left shoulder. Sometimes riders get hit by broken lances during matches. The Knights commander was just unlucky.

"Aaaagh!"

The reason lance tips were blunt was to protect the riders. But he’d been struck by the jagged, broken end, so he fell off his horse with a scream. Imperial Knights ran over and removed the commander’s helmet—his face was covered in blood. He writhed in terrible agony.

"Verdammt nochma! Fick dich!"

He spewed curses, trying to endure the pain.

"Commander, stay still!"

"Stretcher! Get a stretcher! Call a healer!"

The Knights commander ended up being carried away on a stretcher. That was the price for having murderous intent toward me. I didn’t feel sorry for him at all. What goes around comes around—those who rise by fouls fall by fouls.

"This is a foul! The Lord of Feuzen committed a foul against our commander!"

"This match is invalid! Streit, you should be ashamed!"

Wait, why were these lunatics suddenly going off on me? What? A foul? Me?

Even a bystander could see I’d done nothing wrong. The Knights commander getting hit in the shoulder by a broken lance happened because he’d committed a foul and brought it on himself. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. The referees knew the Knights commander had committed the dangerous foul first. But the Imperial Knights furiously insisted the result was invalid.

The atmosphere grew increasingly hostile. I was staring blankly at the absurd scene when an Imperial Knight who’d been pointing at me rushed onto the field—and got decked by Michael, who came charging in like a bull. Thwack! He went down on impact.

That was the spark—countless knights rushed onto the field.

"Ugh!"

"Cut the crap, you damn bastards!"

"Damn, Dreckschwein!"

"Fick dich selbst! Die!"

It was like watching a bench-clearing brawl. I couldn’t get into a fistfight in front of Hilda. I shouted from atop Mont Blanc, trying to stop Michael and the War Ministry knights. But it was pointless.

Thwack! Thwack!

"Hund! Lowly War Ministry bastard!"

"Die, you dirty Imperial scum!"

The Offenburg knights, furious that their young master had been hurt, charged in too, and the Steinhof family knights who sided with the War Ministry joined the fray. The cavalry commander, declaring this looked like a good fight, led his lance cavalry in and started throwing punches—it was total chaos.

What was I supposed to do about this?

Thunk!

"..."

Thunk? Someone had thrown something at the back of my head. What hit me was a broken lance handle. You dare throw this at me? I think my reason just snapped too.

Alright, you bastards. I’ll fight too.

Oh Lord! I’m sending them to You one by one!

I dismounted Mont Blanc and threw a punch at the face of some nameless Imperial Knight nearby.