Hearing this, Zachary instantly deflated, his head hanging in dejection.
Don Quixote glanced at Tom, who had just spoken, and chuckled.
"Zachary, if you have the courage to be brutally and embarrassingly unhorsed in front of a crowd of lords and gawking smallfolk...
"If you have the stomach to endure the mockery and sneers after you lose...
"Then I can knight you right now!"
Zachary froze, his heart hammering against his ribs.
A light he had never possessed before erupted in his eyes, as if a new life had just been breathed into him. His gaze was filled with pure, disbelief-fueled ecstasy.
It wasn't just Zachary; the surrounding members of the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company looked on in shock, awe, and burning envy.
The vast majority of them weren't anointed knights—they were just freelance sellswords and freeriders.
Any knight could make another knight; that was the rule set down by the laws of the realm and the Faith of the Seven.
Even a hedge knight without a copper to his name could do it.
Even if a man hadn't been raised as a squire or didn't keep the Seven, he could still be knighted for outstanding deeds—like brave soldiers or smallfolk who had proven their worth.
Becoming a knight instantly elevated a man's social standing.
Even if he was a bastard from Flea Bottom before the sword touched his shoulders, once knighted, he was a "Ser."
He could stand as an equal beside any knight in the Seven Kingdoms.
As for Don Quixote, given his current status and reputation, no one would dare question his knighthood anymore.
And even if they did, it hardly mattered.
Sure, old Valentine had only knighted him as a joke, without a single witness.
But he could easily find a reputable guarantor to vouch that he had been Valentine's squire, and that would be enough.
Just like Ser Duncan the Tall had once done.
Because a knighting didn't require the approval of a king, a lord, or the Faith, nor did it strictly need witnesses.
As long as the man bestowing the honor was a legitimate knight, the dubbing was entirely valid.
And just moments ago, Wylis Manderly had officially invited him to participate in White Harbor's upcoming tourney.
The rules for most tourneys were strict: only anointed knights could compete in the joust and the melee.
Allowing a knight to enter the lists was an official recognition of his knighthood.
From this day forward, no one could ever question the legitimacy of the title "Ser Don Quixote."
Of course, tourney rules varied by region and era.
Especially in the North, some tourneys still allowed freeriders, squires, and followers of the Old Gods to compete.
After a long, stunned silence, Zachary finally snapped out of it.
This time, without a shred of hesitation, he shouted:
"Captain, I have the courage!"
---
> [Employer: Lord Wyman]
> [Quest: Capture or kill raiders in the areas surrounding White Harbor and Oldcastle. (This quest is based on the number of raiders captured or killed. A reward can be claimed for each raider dealt with.)]
> [Reward: 100 Gold Dragons (Claimable 40 times)]
Two months, a haul of four thousand Gold Dragons. No magical items this time, but still a damn good payout!
Don Quixote looked at the quest rewards with deep satisfaction and silently willed:
"Claim!"
In the blink of an eye, a massive, gleaming pile of gold coins materialized before him.
But soon, Don Quixote found himself with a headache.
The very real problem of having too much coin and nowhere to stash it.
Rubbing his temples, he transferred the bulk of the Gold Dragons into a heavy iron strongbox he had specifically acquired to store vast amounts of unwieldy gold and silver.
Then, he shoved the box into a hidden compartment in his room.
"If I've got too much coin, I might as well spend it."
Don Quixote sat at his desk and unrolled a sheet of parchment.
It was covered in names, brief profiles, and addresses.
Scanning the parchment, his mind began to race:
I can have Adele speed up her pace and generously help the smallfolk who deserve it. Especially those minor merchants driven to the brink of ruin. If I fund their businesses, I can weave a merchant network bound to me by gratitude . A trustworthy network of merchants will definitely come in handy later; they'll be a massive asset.
With the White Harbor tourney coming up, a lot of the city's merchants are tied up with preparations. Plus, now that the surrounding raiders have been completely wiped out, the minor merchants trading in the nearby areas have grown bolder. They aren't as eager to hire knights and sellswords anymore. Even when they do, they only hire one or two freeriders or freelance mercs. As a result, short-distance escort contracts have dried up significantly.
And since I need to compete in the tourney, I can't take on any long-distance contracts. In the short term, I can put mercenary work on the back burner. Or, I can just have a few of my men take on the low-risk jobs. As long as I make the verbal agreement under the name 'Don Quixote,' I can let them handle the grunt work and just sit back and reap the rewards.
Yeah, that's exactly what I'll do. The men of the Bloody Hand have changed and grown a lot lately. It's time they started completing safe contracts on their own. I need to let off the reins and mold a few elites who can handle things independently.
On top of that, I could sponsor a few minor lords to host micro or small-scale tourneys. With my current connections and standing, they probably wouldn't refuse. It's nothing but pure profit and prestige for them, after all.
Especially with the White Harbor tourney drawing near. A lot of lords might jump at the chance to host a warm-up event, and the freeriders, sellswords, and cavalrymen who can't qualify for the main event in White Harbor would be more than happy to compete. I can use these smaller tourneys to forge my men's skills in real combat, while grinding my name and the Bloody Hand's reputation even deeper into the public mind.
The cost wouldn't even be that high. Given my current strength, it's highly unlikely anyone else takes the champion's purse anyway. What I really need to do is figure out a way to become a landed knight. Historically, a very small number of tourney champions have been granted lands, though that was always based on a lord's political maneuvering. If I had my own fief and a keep, things would be infinitely easier.
Tourneys were the core events for the Westerosi nobility to project power and maintain their knightly culture.
The right to host a tourney was directly tied to territorial jurisdiction.
A lord with lands and ruling authority had the right to host a tourney within his borders, set the rules of the lists, and bear the costs and security responsibilities of the event.
The core prerequisite for legally hosting a tourney wasn't just being a knight; it was holding the corresponding lands and the right of pit and gallows.
A tourney hosted by someone without ruling authority was considered an illegal gathering and could be shut down by the local lord.
Within the noble hierarchy of Westeros, the lowest rank legally permitted to host a public tourney was a landed knight.
A landed knight owned their own keep, their own estates, and their own lands.
They swore fealty to the lord who ruled the wider territory and belonged to the minor nobility.
They had smallfolk and men-at-arms under their command, and could even have sworn swords of their own.
Some landed knights from ancient houses held vast tracts of land and resided in massive, high-walled fortresses, essentially operating as lords in all but name.
They were often more powerful than some of the weaker, titled lords and were frequently addressed as "My Lord" by the smallfolk.
Their special status was usually reflected in the formidable names of their seats, such as the Knight of Ninestars.
A landed knight might possess more wealth than a minor lord, but their formal status could never match one.
For example, at banquets and tourneys, a titled lord would always be seated higher than a landed knight.
More importantly, landed knights did not hold the right of high justice on their own lands.
They had the authority to maintain the peace and settle minor disputes.
But they had no right to hold court for major crimes or pass sentences of death.
When a felony occurred, it had to be reported to their liege lord, who would make the judgment and dispense justice.
However, because they possessed independent estates, lands, and limited ruling authority...
Landed knights did have the right to host small-scale martial games and tourneys on their lands to temper their squires' skills and showcase their own honor.