TTPB 36

Chapter 36

I Will Definitely Win

The seventh morning dawned, and the swordsmanship tournament officially began. The tournament was held over two days. Today was the day to select those who would advance to the main rounds. In the circular arena, competitive knights, mercenaries, and travelers from various nations competed in the preliminaries.

The Calon Empire’s swordsmanship tournament was famous even abroad for its bold rule: anyone who could wield a sword was eligible to participate. Those who displayed remarkable skill in the tournament could secure a prestigious position in Calon. As a result, many participated each year, aiming for the emperor’s reward. The entire capital was electrified with the tournament’s excitement.

“Assigned to a different group, huh.”

Jad Lambert ground his teeth, glaring at Arsen. Lafayette, who had previously shown little interest in the tournament, suddenly announced his participation for some unknown reason. Jad wanted nothing more than to make that arrogant face kneel. According to the bracket, the two would only meet in the finals.

“You need to be eliminated in the preliminaries.”

He shivered at the thought that he could not engage Arsen properly. Yet he was certain that Arsen would reach the finals. This realization made him even more irritated—it was as if he were admitting the skill of the Black Clan.

“If you lose before the finals, you’ll have to give up your captaincy.”

Jad spat out the words harshly and left the players’ waiting tent. Meanwhile, the very person who had triggered Jad’s anger was completely absorbed elsewhere. Arsen’s gaze was fixed on the name of the paladin listed in the bracket.

Herya Deon’s matches were scheduled early. His own match against her would come much later. Arsen had made up his mind to make that insolent, rude man—who had treated the princess disrespectfully the night before—look foolish. Then he shook his head.

In truth, that was only an excuse. His participation in the tournament was not solely for that reason. The victor would become the personal guard of a noble. Arsen intended to officially secure the position of the 3rd Princess’s personal guard. It was the best way for the princess to rely on him.

He knew she did not fully trust him. Although he could not pinpoint the root of her distrust, he intended to prove himself through skill. Normally, he would not have taken part in such a noisy event. This was a place where life-and-death battles were treated like mere entertainment, which did not suit his principles. Even if he joined, the Calonians would only make all kinds of humiliating remarks.

But today, he did not care if he became a laughingstock. Arsen tightly wrapped a blue handkerchief around the hilt of his sword. After running his hand along the scabbard, he stepped out of the tent. As the banner was lifted, the roar of the spectators hit his ears.

The preliminaries of the previous group had ended, and the arena was heated with excitement. Spotting coral-colored hair among the crowd, Arsen climbed the steps without hesitation. Beside the princess were Hagen and Lance, who had lost in the matches.

“Be careful. Do you know how shocked Lance was when he got stabbed?”

“Haha. Sorry you had to see that.”

Lance scratched his head awkwardly, seemingly more bothered by the defeat than the injury.

“I didn’t expect to be eliminated in the preliminaries. The continent truly has many skilled fighters.”

“See? I told you to watch your opponent until the end before making a move. Falling for an obvious trick? Rookie mistake.”

Hagen tossed the broken belt decoration at Lance.

“Hmm? And you still managed to cut through all that.”

“Ah, that was unavoidable, Sir Hagen.”

“When you get back, ask someone to fix it.”

Lance stared blankly at the shattered obsidian ornament. The protective talisman he had never parted with since leaving his home island had been broken during the match by an opponent’s strike.

“Let me see the wound. I’ll heal it.”

“No! It’ll heal on its own soon enough.”

Although the wound had been roughly treated, Rose still worried. She tried to use Regeneration, but the knight firmly refused. Arsen furrowed his brows at the scene.

“Do not waste your noble power on such a minor scratch.”

“Arsen?”

He pulled his delicate hand away from the boy’s arm. As an elderly court apothecary had once said, the princess paid a price whenever she used her blessing. Even being near water exhausted her. Yet she still tried to exert power in trivial matters, ignoring future consequences.

“It’s just a scratch from a longsword.”

“To a knight, that’s barely a scratch. Am I wrong?”

“Right, right. It’s nothing serious.”

Lance answered tensely.

“I wanted to see it myself, since Lance usually follows me around so much.”

“Your Highness, the captain is correct. I’m fine!”

The boy gave an awkward smile, glancing at Arsen.

“Did you hear that? No more blessings for the knights.”

Rose glared at Arsen. The small use of power caused no fatigue, yet she could not understand his overprotectiveness.

“Let’s return to the VIP seats. It’s best you sit now.”

As more spectators poured in, the seating quickly became crowded. Arsen pointed out the prime seats in the circular arena. The royal blue flags flanked the VIP section. Although it was the best seat, it was far from the battlefield.

That was natural. The emphasis was on showing the imperial dignity rather than watching the matches. Those seated there had little interest in the tournament, at most curious about who would win. No other royals had ever come down to watch from the general seating.

“I can’t see the match well from there. Which group is Arsen in? I wanted to see the preliminaries too.”

“My turn hasn’t come yet.”

Rose, caught up in the excitement, spoke a little animatedly.

“You’ll pass the preliminaries, right?”

“Of course! The captain will surely win. Worrying about preliminaries is an insult to him.”

Lance leapt in excitement, pledging his faith in Arsen.

“Sir Lafayette is the one who can defeat sea serpents even in a storm. A duel like this is child’s play!”

“Sea serpents?”

Hagen grinned, revealing his white teeth.

“It’s a famous tale. You don’t know? It’s the captain’s prowess against terrifying beasts.”

“Indeed, Your Highness! I witnessed it with my own eyes. He cut Leviathan’s neck in a single strike!”

Lance continued excitedly recounting tales. Hagen intervened.

“Well, in any case, the captain won’t lose.”

“I see. I was worrying for no reason.”

Then, Arsen suddenly looked at her with a serious expression.

“I will definitely win.”

“Yes. I trust without doubt that Arsen will triumph.”

“Even over Herya Deon, right?”

Hearing the name, Rose was surprised. She recalled that Arsen had joined the tournament to beat Herya. The two rivals resembled fierce male beasts fighting for dominance.

“Yes. Even over Herya, I think Arsen will win.”

Rose held back a smile, offering encouraging words.

“But don’t get careless. It seems he didn’t make that claim lightly.”

Arsen nodded slowly. Herya’s swordsmanship from earlier had been unusual. Her nimble blade movements and light jumps were unlike anything seen even in Tevere’s style.

“The swordsmanship tournament allows no carelessness. Fighters from all over showcase unpredictable techniques.”

“Good mindset.”

Rose smiled. Arsen’s lips twitched. He almost rushed to demand the promise of a personal guard post after winning. It was better to secure recognition as the empire’s finest swordsman first. He swallowed the words on his lips.

I want to be your Highness’s knight.

The next day, after many matches determining winners and losers, only three battles remained. After advancing through the main rounds and competing with several men, Arsen reached the semi-finals. Now, he stood on the verge of a match against a paladin.

A bead of sweat dripped from his chin. He looked up at the royal balcony, catching sight of the 3rd Princess’s tense expression. A small smile escaped him—despite being the one fighting, she appeared more nervous than he did.

“Are you too relaxed to glance away while I’m here?”

Arsen looked down at his opponent, who smirked. Herya casually stood with her fingers interlocked above her head. Seeing the blue medallion around her neck, his jaw clenched.

“You’re serious about winning, huh.”

“Of course. My entire fortune depends on this.”

She carried herself lightly, as if this were just an extension of gambling. He hadn’t expected Herya to reach the semi-finals. Her swordsmanship was flashy, but not unbeatable. In previous matches, a skilled knight seemed to have countered her techniques.

But in an instant, the paladin transformed, wielding a completely different, lethal sword style aimed only at vital points.

The referee raised a hand to signal the start. Arsen drew his long sword. Its weight, twice that of an ordinary sword, matched his frame, yet he handled it effortlessly.

“Are you going to strike me with that clumsy sword?”

“Respect or disrespect—it’s either one or the other.”

“Disrespect, then. Talking is tedious.”

Herya grinned, speaking casually.

“You’ve been hiding your true form well.”

“I hate being overly polite, so bear with me.”

Herya swung her dangerously light sword through the air. A mere 50 cm blade, short for a paladin’s sword. In every way, she didn’t seem like a member of the Templar Knights.

“Not that.”

“…?”

“I’ve seen your attack style.”

The trumpet blared, and the referee’s command was given. Instantly, they charged at each other.

Clang! Cold steel collided.

“An efficient method aimed at vital points—preferred by those in the shadows.”