"Good afternoon to all the live spectators and those watching from home! I'm Bigmouth Mob, and you're now watching the Kazimierz Triennial Major Tournament's ranking match, held here at the Flameblade Arena. Today's contestant is Mr. Claude from Rim Billiton, going up against the Green Knight from the Boiling Blood Knight Order!"
At the Flameblade Arena in Cavalleria, the capital of Kazimierz, Bigmouth Mob's voice boomed across the stands, instantly igniting the audience's excitement.
"Everyone, now's the time to place your bets on your favorite knight! Mr. Claude is an independent knight hailing from Rim Billiton. Though it's his first time competing, he's already shown impressive strength in previous rounds. His odds currently stand at—uh…"
Just as Bigmouth Mob was warming up the crowd and encouraging bets, everything suddenly fell silent. The match had ended—just like that. From the start signal to the finish, it had taken a single second.
The Green Knight, clad in full armor, had been pinned to the ground at the edge of the arena—his right shoulder pierced clean through by a single arrow.
"What a shocking shot! No one even saw how the arrow was loosed! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Claude, who's claimed another decisive victory. With just six more points, he'll qualify for the main stage of this year's Major Tournament. How far will Claude go? Please stay tuned to the rising star, Knight Claude!"
Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Bigmouth Mob quickly shifted tone. As a seasoned tournament commentator, it was his first time dealing with something like this.
Despite all his prep work to avoid dead air, the match had left him with nothing to comment on. No flashy moves, no counterplay—just a silent, clean kill.
He cast a glance at Claude as he walked off the field. Kazimierz's Major Tournament had no need for knights like him. Bigmouth Mob could already predict what would happen next. Still, he only spared a moment's regret.
He was powerless to change anything. In Kazimierz, making someone disappear was all too easy. Just like the previous commentator—one wrong word, and he vanished without a trace.
What mattered most in Kazimierz's tournament was spectacle. Spectacle brought betting, and betting brought money. An instant kill might be terrifying to other knights, but to the average viewer, it was boring. Many ticket-holders were already cursing in frustration.
"He's in trouble."
Anyone watching the match throughout Kazimierz had the same thought. No matter how strong he was, this was the territory of the Kazimierz Commercial Union.
"Well, if it isn't Spokesman Czarny. You've got some free time on your hands, showing up in person for a match like this?"
As Claude exited into the backstage corridor, most people scrambled away from him like he carried bad luck. Only one man stood waiting ahead, calm and composed.
A man with a naturally authoritative presence—Spokesman Czarny.
"Every great knight starts in matches like these."
"That's true. Even the Black Knight, Radiant Knight, and Blood Knight had to fight their way up—none of them got direct access to the main tournament."
Claude smiled faintly at Czarny.
Kazimierz's Major Tournament did allow top knight orders to bypass the ranking stage and head straight to the finals. But those without such backing had to earn their place.
"Mr. Claude, you're a clever man. I believe you already know why I'm here."
"Of course. But this isn't the place for a proper chat. I'm a little hungry."
"I know a good barbecue joint nearby."
"Really? That's perfect."
With that, Claude and Czarny headed out of the arena together. Behind them, envious and resentful gazes followed. Some even cursed under their breath.
During the Major Tournament, cozying up to a spokesman was a guaranteed path to success. Most competitors were in it for the money. Every year, bounty hunters and mercenaries from across Terra came to compete—the tournament offered better odds than surviving in the wild.
"This is a pretty nice spot. Great view. The food's good too. Alright, I've eaten—let's talk business. If the Commercial Union wants me to cooperate, fine. Just give me enough benefits."
Claude—actually Daniel Davis himself—spoke bluntly. Yes, the real Daniel, not a clone. He had used this alias, "Claude," once before in the pirate world and hadn't used it since. His clone had come ahead to handle registration and miscellaneous matters.
Although Kazimierz allowed foreigners to compete, the paperwork was complicated—especially for Infected. Thankfully, Daniel wasn't one.
With his current strength, he could easily crush the Commercial Union. But with Nearl not yet back, and wiping them out too cleanly would be letting them off too easily, Daniel wanted to play with them first.
The clone had already investigated Kazimierz's Great Knight Territory and uncovered some shocking truths—more than enough to justify some fun.
"What's the matter, Mr. Spokesman? Is there a problem with my terms?"
Daniel offered Czarny a kind smile.
"No problem. I accept. Let's work well together."
"Excellent. You can wire the first payment to my account now."
Daniel stood and walked out the door.
"Unarmored Alliance, huh? So they've got contingency plans too."
As he stepped outside, Daniel casually scanned the building across the street and the alleys beside the hotel. Then he hailed a cab and left.
"Czarny, how did it go?" A phone call came shortly after Daniel's departure.
"He agreed. He'll cooperate," Czarny replied calmly.
"Smart man," came the response before the line cut off.
"Smart, huh…"
Czarny repeated the word to himself. He'd met many so-called "smart" people who'd compromised with the Commercial Union. But this one was different. He talked like the others, negotiating for profit—yet Czarny felt he didn't really care about the benefits at all.
Of course, that was just a feeling. He couldn't report on intuition.
"The Nearl family returns to the Major Tournament after six years… Truly, the Radiant Knight's name still holds power. The moment Maria Nearl was announced, newspapers sold out instantly."
Daniel chuckled as he looked at the headlines—Maria Nearl, the younger sister of Margaret Nearl, was making her debut at the tournament.
"Those other knights today must be feeling pretty sour."
For competitive knights, fame equaled wealth. But today, Maria Nearl had stolen all the attention. As Daniel was thinking about it, his phone rang.
"My next opponent is Maria Nearl. They want me to eliminate her… Very clever."
Maria needed points, just like Daniel, to qualify for the finals. Today was her first match. If she lost or got seriously injured, not only would she fail to qualify, the Nearl family would also be shamed.
Imagine—descendant of the Nearl family losing in round one, and to a newcomer no less. The public would be furious.
"Looks like my presence has already changed things."
Originally, Maria's first opponent was the "Plastic Knight." The Commercial Union didn't want the Nearl family to win and pitted her against a veteran. Maria might've won, but the knight's faulty armor gave her the chance she needed.
"Maria, give up. You're no match for him."
At the Terror Martin Bar, Maria's aunt Sofia, after reviewing footage of Claude's matches, told her to forfeit.
Since partnering with the Commercial Union, Daniel had fought two more matches, this time putting on a show—making things "entertaining," just as they'd asked.
"I'm not backing down."
But Maria was unmoved. She insisted on competing. Sofia had no choice but to accept her decision.
"Czarny, you told me to make it entertaining. Now you want me to finish quickly? That's rich."
Before the match, Daniel met with Czarny again.
"It's an order from the board. If you win, your bonus is tripled."
"Triple the bonus? How generous."
Daniel smiled ambiguously and headed to the arena.
"Maria Nearl… A Nearl, huh. Better be careful."
"Big sis… I won't lose."
Seeing her opponent drawing his bow, Maria braced herself. She had come here because if no Nearl claimed a long lance this year, the family's knightly title would be revoked.
It was just a title, sure—and the Nearl family now made a living selling furniture—but it was still their honor. With Margaret gone, Maria didn't want to be the one to lose it.
Even if Margaret didn't care, Maria did.
"Your movement was too slow. In a real fight, your enemy won't give you time to think."
"That's not how you use a shield. Deflect, don't just block."
"Strike fast. Strike clean. Don't hesitate. This is battle."
The Commercial Union had wanted Daniel to finish the fight quickly. Instead, he turned it into a coaching session.
Maria, while mainly a craftsman, was still a Nearl. She had a strong body and Originium Arts—her ability wasn't lacking.
If she had been truly weak, Sofia never would've let her into the ring, no matter how much she insisted. She had, after all, beaten Sofia in training.
To Daniel, her biggest flaw was lack of combat experience. She hesitated too much. In the original story, she only won because her opponent's armor malfunctioned.
"…What?"
In the front row, Sofia had been ready to jump in and rescue Maria if things went south—even if it meant breaking the rules. But she hadn't expected this. Claude was teaching her.
While Sofia watched in shock, the crowd was ecstatic. Occasionally, drones buzzed into the arena—attempting to interfere with Claude.
This was part of the tournament system: spectators could pay to support fighters with weapons, supplies, or interference—though none of it was lethal.
"Czarny, what the hell is going on?"
Backstage, Czarny received a furious call from one of the Union's executives.
"My apologies, sir," he replied without offering an explanation.
"Terminate him." The call ended immediately.
"Remember the feeling of pain. Get used to it. And always avoid injury if you can."
The match continued. No matter how angry the Union was, they couldn't stop a live match. That was the bedrock of the tournament's legitimacy.
"Conserve your strength. Use Arts only when necessary."
The duel dragged on for three hours. Maria was covered in wounds, bleeding heavily. But that was to be expected—she wasn't yet strong enough to come out unscathed.
"As expected of the Nearl family… I surrender."
Seeing that Maria was nearly spent, Daniel let her sword break his bowstring—using it as an excuse to concede.
"Winner: Maria Nearl."
Bigmouth Mob, likely informed in advance, didn't hype the match. His announcement was brief and neutral.
"Maria!"
Sofia rushed in to catch her staggering niece, her expression complex as she glanced at Daniel.
"Until next time, ladies."
Daniel gave them a casual wave as he left the stage.
"You do realize what kind of trouble this will bring? I thought you were smarter than that."
Backstage, Czarny looked at him in confusion.
"Trouble? I imagine some people in the Commercial Union are looking very pale right now."
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