Chapter 77
The Great Tournament Begins
The Great Tournament would last for a full week.
It began with the opening ceremony on the first day and ended with a grand parade for the champion on the final day.
After that, there would still be small-scale celebrations for another ten days or so—but those were really just for the travelers who’d come from afar, giving them something to enjoy before they left.
‘If things go well, a few days of fun won’t hurt.’
For now, though, it was time to focus on the tournament itself.
There were plenty of things to take care of during that one busy week.
“Count.”
“Ah, right. Islin. What is it?”
“I’ve obtained the list of participants for this year’s tournament. I also gathered information about their territories and ranks.”
“Oh? Nicely done, as always.”
“…It’s not perfect, though. There’s one participant whose details I couldn’t confirm.”
“Hm.”
Islin bit her lip, clearly frustrated.
Even after using her entire network, she hadn’t been able to dig up everything—and that bothered her deeply.
Still, that meant there was only one contestant she couldn’t figure out.
Most knights preferred to hide their rank before the tournament anyway—to avoid unnecessary rivalries before the matches began.
‘Not that most of them will be higher than Rank 5 or 6, anyway.’
Considering she’d found out about everyone except one, that was impressive in itself.
I wanted to compliment her—but knowing her pride, I decided to keep quiet.
“Alright, let’s see it.”
“Here you go.”
Islin handed over a sheet packed with neatly written names and details.
It even included the match brackets for the upcoming rounds.
“Oh ho…”
There were fifteen knights competing in total.
Not too many, not too few.
‘Makes sense. Rank 5 or 6 means they’re on the level of Crode or Priana. There aren’t that many like that around.’
First thing to check: whether any of them were Rank 6.
“Let’s see here…”
As expected of a tournament hosted by the Allied Kingdoms, the participants came from all over.
“Three from Wicellan, one from Doras… two from Aisother?”
“Yes, those two came as escort knights for the Aisother delegation.”
“Oh, royal escorts, huh?”
I smirked and glanced sideways at Priana.
She seemed bothered, her face twisting slightly.
“Should’ve come with the delegation yourself, then. You could’ve scoped them out in advance.”
“The delegation usually leaves at least a week early for these events.”
“True. And I’d barely regained consciousness by then.”
Not that I wanted to travel with those Aisother royals anyway.
Whether it was that bastard Erengold or Prince Galen, they were all insufferable.
Princess Eaglen, though—she was supposed to be a little different.
‘Eaglen…’
A memorable character, even in the novel.
Compared to the deranged prince Galen, she was far more fitting as Erengold’s heir.
But ability alone doesn’t decide one’s fate.
Luck does.
And Princess Eaglen’s luck was abysmal.
‘That’s why she met such a tragic end.’
She wasn’t a bad person by any means, but being royal meant being dragged into endless complications.
Either way, getting involved with her wouldn’t bring me anything good.
Galen or Eaglen—same story.
“…Hm?”
I noticed something odd.
There were fifteen participants.
Not sixteen.
Which meant—one person got a bye in the first round.
“That’d be me, huh?”
“Yes. It seems you were granted that as a courtesy, being the only Count among them.”
“Fair enough. The ink on my patent might still be drying, but I am a Count.”
That meant I’d only have to fight three matches instead of four.
‘Perfect. Since the first round’s on the opening day, I’ll have some free time.’
“You’ll likely need to focus on three main opponents,” Islin continued.
“Three?”
“Yes. The first one will probably be this man.”
[Fitz Light – Aisother]
A name that sounded like he’d enjoy a drink or two.
He was from Aisother, same as me.
“Ah, one of the Aisother delegation knights.”
Fighting someone from my homeland in a foreign land felt a little awkward—but a match was a match.
“How skilled is he?”
“I can vouch for him personally, my lord.”
It was Priana who answered.
“You know him?”
“He graduated in the same class as I did. Last year’s tournament runner-up.”
“Runner-up, huh? Then the winner was you.”
“…Yes, that’s right.”
Priana scratched her head sheepishly.
“Anyway, he’s a solid fighter, but you’ll win without trouble. Which means you’ll probably face him in the second round.”
“Got it. Who’s next?”
She pointed to another name.
[Garion – Wicellan]
“A representative knight from Wicellan. Based on what I found, he’s Rank 5—but rumor has it he recently broke through his third wall.”
“Rank 6, then. That could be tricky. We’ll see for ourselves later.”
And the final person to watch out for—
[Lenny Benat – Frostland]
“Frostland? That far north?”
Frostland was a kingdom located at the northernmost tip of the continent.
It must’ve taken him forever to get here.
“Yes. Most likely drawn by the tournament’s prize.”
“Still, that’s quite the journey.”
I couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy—but then again, I was eyeing that prize too.
“He’s confirmed to be Rank 6, my lord. Practically a guaranteed finalist.”
“Hm…”
An openly Rank 6 knight—he must really want that reward.
Fortunately, he was on the opposite side of the bracket.
If we met, it would be in the finals.
“Wait—what about that one you said you couldn’t identify?”
“Yes. He’s from Wicellan’s Decard family, but beyond that, there’s no information. No rank, no background, nothing.
However, based on the bracket, he’ll likely face Lenny Benat in the semifinals. Unless he wins there, you won’t have to worry about him.”
“Alright.”
I nodded and studied the name.
[Shellang Decard – Wicellan]
The Decard family—minor barons of little importance.
According to Islin, a no-name house buried in some backwater region.
There were plenty of knights like Shellang Decard—unknown nobles entering the tournament to make a name for themselves.
Still… something about that name tugged at my memory.
‘Shellang Decard… where have I heard that before?’
I frowned, trying to recall.
But nothing came.
“Is something wrong, my lord?” Isbart asked.
“Have you ever heard of a family called Decard?”
“No, sir. First time.”
“Same here,” Islin added.
“…Alright then. If none of us know, there’s no use guessing.”
It felt like leaving the bathroom without wiping—uncomfortably incomplete.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
There was somewhere I needed to go while the tournament was still underway.
“Alright, that’s enough for now. Time to get going.”
“Yes, the opening ceremony starts at noon.”
“And the first-round matches begin right after, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. That gives me a bit of time.”
“Time? To do what, my lord?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Everyone looked curious, but I just gave them a sly grin instead of an answer.
The arena was massive—a perfect circle like a colosseum, with a raised platform set up for the ceremony at one end.
Though it served as a recruitment ground for knights, the Great Tournament was ultimately a festival—a show of unity for the Allied Kingdoms.
Which meant there were plenty of formalities to go through.
[Next, we will hold a moment of silence for the knights who sacrificed their lives for Wicellan.]
Baam, baam~
“So boring…”
They called this an opening ceremony, but it felt more like torture.
I would’ve left already if it weren’t mandatory for contestants to attend.
At least they spared me the embarrassment of introducing myself aloud.
Still, it was painfully dull.
“How can you call it boring, my lord? It’s a solemn moment for the fallen.”
“So, that makes it not boring?”
“…Honestly, I’m about to yawn too.”
“Hah! Exactly.”
At this point, exchanging dumb jokes with Priana was the only thing keeping me awake.
“Ugh… when is this over?”
“Once the delegations give their greetings, it’ll end.”
[First, we thank the delegations who have traveled such great distances to attend…]
“Oh great. That means we have to sit through seven speeches.”
I stifled my yawns, praying for it all to end soon.
[On behalf of Aisother, I extend my deepest gratitude for allowing us to stand here today.]
“Oh.”
That was the last one—Aisother spoke last.
Finally, I perked up, listening closely.
‘So that’s Princess Eaglen.’
From where the participants were seated—across from the platform—I could see her clearly.
Though small in the distance, it was the perfect spot to get a good look.
Snow-white skin, golden hair that shimmered like her brother Erengold’s, and a pure white dress trailing behind her.
She was giving her speech with calm dignity.
Compared to that lunatic Prince Galen, she really did look like an angel.
Sure, Galen was handsome—but he was still a bastard.
When you despise someone, even their beauty looks ugly.
I had no such grudge against Eaglen.
If anything, it was pity.
Knowing what would happen to her in the novel, I couldn’t help but feel sorry.
‘But maybe her fate’s changed now? I did stop the Gold Bank incident, after all.’
Hard to say.
The fact that Ian Imphera himself was participating in the tournament already broke the original story.
Who knew how far this butterfly effect would go?
[That concludes…]
“Oh, finally.”
As the host’s closing words rang out, I stood up and stretched.
The matches would now take place throughout the day.
And since I’d gotten a bye in the first round, I’d earned myself a free day.
Might as well use it wisely.
“You’re leaving, my lord?”
“Yeah.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to stay and watch the others’ swordplay?”
She wasn’t wrong—observation was part of the battle, after all.
But I just grinned.
“That’s what you’re here for. Earn your meal, will you?”
“Oh! Of course! I’ll watch every move, every strike, and analyze everything.”
Priana’s eyes lit up with purpose.
I chuckled and turned to the others.
“You two, enjoy the performances or something. Take a break.”
“Yes, my lord!”
“I’ll be back late tonight, so wrap things up without me.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Leaving them behind, I slipped away from the tournament grounds—already alive with roaring crowds and clashing blades.
“Alright…” I murmured, a grin tugging at my lips.
“Time to do a little looting.”
