"So fast…"
Nearl lifted her head, gazing at Don Quixote as she murmured softly.
"They didn't even question me much. Once they confirmed I wasn't an Infected or anything, they handed me the certificate right away…"
Don Quixote subconsciously answered Nearl's remark like this, but Nearl just let out a sigh.
Of course she knew there were practically no barriers to becoming a competitive knight in Kazimierz…
She just couldn't immediately accept how things had somehow transitioned so naturally to this point.
How exactly did things end up like this so suddenly?
Nearl quietly pondered this within herself.
"Oh, right, I heard them mention something called the Knight Tournament taking place here. It sounds like a very exciting competition!"
"They said the tournament's winners receive unimaginable fame. Their names will be passed down by word of mouth, becoming legends of their era!"
Don Quixote eagerly recalled, waving the certificate in his hand as he spoke. Nearl silently rose, sighing again.
If Don Quixote really joined the competition… wouldn't he just bulldoze straight through everyone?
No, that's not right. This guy would absolutely shout something like "Battle must be exhilarating!" and deliberately feign defeat, only to dramatically reverse things at the last desperate moment…
Of that, Nearl was completely certain.
"Ah, it looks like I'll get to play with strong warriors from all over…"
"No, Don Quixote-san, it's not as beautiful as you imagine. If you're entering the knight competition holding onto your noble ideals… you should prepare yourself for disappointment."
Nearl stood up, struggling to speak these words to Don Quixote.
She couldn't help but remember her own experience at the Knight Tournament, her lips inevitably forming a self-deprecating smile.
Don Quixote seemed momentarily startled. But under Nearl's gaze, he didn't appear surprised. Instead, he simply smiled at her again.
"Whether it's beautiful or not—isn't the important part what we ourselves experience in it?"
As he spoke, he pulled Nearl back down onto the park bench, smiling warmly.
"If you go into something expecting a guaranteed reward, you'll surely be disappointed. But if you enter with the attitude of, 'since I've decided to join, I'll see it through to the very end,' then you can find exactly what you need…"
"Hah, I get it, probably. Perhaps the so-called knights aren't as bright and glamorous as I envision. But as long as we ourselves shine brightly enough, that alone will grant this tournament meaning. That meaning and hope are given by us, ourselves."
Don Quixote declared this resolutely. Nearl stared at him blankly. Then she saw Don Quixote turn toward her, close his eyes, and smile softly:
"So? My dear squire… will you charge into battle with me, Don Quixote?"
"I can tell you probably have some hidden past regarding the Knight Tournament. But if you don't participate once again, we can't change anything, can we?"
Nearl opened her mouth slightly. Then she closed her eyes and let a joyful smile spread across her face.
She reached out, making a pinky promise gesture with Don Quixote.
"All right, since you've put it like that…"
"Then, 'Fear neither hardship nor darkness…'"
"What's that?"
"…Our family's motto. Never mind. Maybe I've gone insane too, willingly playing along with your nonsense."
Nearl smiled helplessly as she spoke. Then she stood before Don Quixote, playfully giving a knight's salute.
"Very well, your squire-knight Nearl awaits your orders, Sir Don Quixote."
Immediately, Don Quixote played along. He leapt to his feet, shouting boldly:
"Excellent! Hear my command! Squire-knight Nearl… come with me at once to the Knight Tournament, that we might forge glorious deeds!"
He spoke with such grandness—and yet with such childishness. Nearl shook her head and laughed softly, but then followed after this childlike "knight."
The Knight Tournament…
It truly has been a long time since I last joined…
Nearl silently thought this to herself, then accompanied Don Quixote to the tournament registration office.
If Nearl openly participated, she'd likely be recognized immediately. So before reaching the registration office, Don Quixote helped Nearl with a simple disguise.
A plain mask, new clothing, and a fresh lance—that was Nearl's new getup. Staring at the lance composed entirely of blood-red material, Nearl exhaled slowly.
Using gear like this… someone might even mistake me for a Bloodfiend…
But at least she wouldn't be identified as the former Radiant Knight, so it didn't really matter.
Since Don Quixote-san's spirits were so high… there was no reason to ruin his enthusiasm with her own old stories.
I'll find another moment to cut off those things myself, with my own hands.
Holding this thought firmly in her heart, Nearl registered once more as a competitive knight, choosing the alias "Attendant Knight." Don Quixote's alias was registered as "La Mancha Knight."
Once these matters were settled, Don Quixote eagerly dragged Nearl to sign up for the ongoing preliminary rounds of the Knight Tournament.
For once, Nearl didn't discourage him. It was rare, but this time she'd decided she might as well go crazy alongside Don Quixote and enjoy herself a bit.
And so, the two joined the preliminaries of the Knight Tournament together—though they were soon sent to separate arenas.
For the former Radiant Knight, the tournament preliminaries posed no difficulty. Nearl swiftly qualified for the next round, careful not to draw too much attention.
After passing her round, Nearl exited the preliminary arena and looked around, but she didn't see Don Quixote anywhere.
She couldn't help but frown.
That guy… he couldn't possibly have gotten carried away playing inside, could he? How has he not finished qualifying by now?
She muttered inwardly, sighed, then sat down where she was, quietly waiting for Don Quixote to appear. About twenty minutes later, she finally spotted him. But, contrary to her expectations, Don Quixote had an awkward smile plastered across his face.
A sudden, strong feeling of foreboding struck Nearl. She stared intently as Don Quixote approached, waiting for him to speak…
"Ahem, Nearl, a minor mishap has occurred."
Don Quixote scratched his temple awkwardly:
"It seems… I might possibly… be disqualified. Apparently, I caused too much damage to the competitors and the arena…"
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