The Female Knight of Doom

The sword fighting contest at the tournament stands as the most eagerly awaited event for spectators.

While the archery competition also generated considerable tension, safety considerations mandated a greater distance between the venue and the audience, making it difficult for viewers to observe where the arrows landed; they could only infer the progress through updates on the scoreboard.

In contrast, the sword fighting duel offers a different experience. Its more intimate setting requires a smaller arena and involves only two combatants, allowing spectators to observe their movements up close. Those seated in the front rows can even discern the expressions of the knights, heightening the thrill.

This proximity and direct engagement make the sword fighting contest far more exhilarating than the third martial arts round.

To enhance the spectacle and integrity of the event, the initial pairings were not determined by chance, but thoughtfully arranged by the duchess in concert with other noble dignitaries, ensuring that opponents of comparable skill levels faced one another.

The combatants will wield foils—blunted, non-penetrative swords with small, embedded balls at their tips. These blades are imbued with a red pigment infused with enchanted potions, allowing for a clear and decisive determination of the victor.

Prior to each contest, participants will solemnly pledge that they harbor no personal grievances, and agree explicitly not to substitute their blades or employ any means to cause harm beyond the scope of fair competition.

The esteemed fencing rounds is scheduled to unfold over a span of three distinguished days. A total of forty-five noble knights will be paired into twenty-two duels, with only the victors earning the privilege to advance to subsequent rounds.

Following four intense stages of competition, the three most formidable contenders will face each other on the final day to crown the ultimate champion.

Alice’s initial opponent was a wandering knight, appearing to be in his early twenties.

Kent faced a young man from a distant region, also under twenty years of age. As is widely recognized, knights from remote areas tend to possess less rigorous training compared to those from Cloudmist Castle, and their overall skill levels generally fall short of the elite knights of the capital.

Dissatisfied with this arrangement, Kent felt that the duchess and others were undervaluing his true ability.

Knight Philo, however, gently rebuked him, “Don’t exhaust your energy on such matters. Let’s focus on winning this match first.”

As the senior among the knights and renowned for his swordsmanship, he was granted the privilege of bypassing the first two rounds, beginning instead with the third.

Concerned for Kent’s morale, he remained by his side throughout.

Kent, though occasionally irritable, remained sufficiently disciplined, regaining his composure to confront his adversary. The knight from the distant region was two years his senior and proved to be more formidable than he initially anticipated.

Despite Kent’s less-than-expert swordsmanship, his good fortune favored him; he managed to trip his opponent, enabling him to secure an effortless victory. Nonetheless, he found little joy in this triumph, perceiving it as too facile, thereby risking tarnishing his reputation.

As for Alice, her circumstances were scarcely different. Prior to the contest, Knight Philo had compiled profiles of the various knights from surrounding castles, yet little was known of their lives before they arrived to compete.

Originally on high alert, she faced a wandering knight who was notably weaker. She swiftly disarmed him—stabbing him in the shoulder with her first sword, at the wrist with her second, and pressing her blade against his throat to compel surrender.

Though the victory felt somewhat hollow, it was merely the preliminary round; she knew that in the matches to come, her opponents would undoubtedly be more formidable.

Having observed them conclude their first match, Knight Philo maintained a composed demeanor, quietly preparing himself for the subsequent contest.

Over the course of several months of rigorous training, Alice and Kent had grown quite familiar with him.

After their midday meal, Kent approached the old knight and initiated a conversation, “Sir Philo, it’s been a while since your last battle, hasn’t it? Do you feel any nervousness?”

Knight Philo cast a measured glance at him, “I feel nervous every time I draw my sword; it has nothing to do with how long it has been since my last fight.”

Although he spoke of his nerves in a calm manner, others found that the word “nervous” scarcely suited him—he was renowned for his unwavering composure, even in the face of death, never betraying emotion as he wielded his blade.

Observing Kent’s seemingly confused expression, he continued with measured calm, “In my youth, we fought with genuine swords—those sharp blades, not these dull practice ones. Yet, the toll was painfully high, prompting us to adopt training swords. Nevertheless, in my view, there is little difference between a real sword and a practice one. Both demand the same level of awareness. When your blade strikes a vital point, you must remember that you are capable of ending a life. Likewise, if you are struck in the throat, you must grasp that you have already faced death once.”

He delivered these words with a detached demeanor, and it was this cold indifference that conveyed something truly terrifying.

It caused Kent—who had never truly faced the horrors of battle—to shiver involuntarily.

Alice listened quietly from nearby, feeling as though a deeper understanding was slipping into her consciousness, yet somehow eluding her grasp entirely.

Following the midday meal, the list of knights advancing to the afternoon contest was displayed. The number of contenders remaining was halved, yet the overall picture remained somewhat unclear.

Aside from Knight Philo, who was currently abstaining from further participation, all eight knights serving under the duchess who had entered the competition were successfully promoted.

Additionally, six knights hailed from larger territories, while four represented more distant regions. Notably, four of the nine wandering knights also achieved advancement.

This revealed a surprising disparity in the abilities among the wandering knights, suggesting that among them, there may well be formidable opponents—masters capable of challenging even the most seasoned competitors.

The knights serving under the duchess undoubtedly surpassed those from other territories in skill and refinement.

To provide more opportunities for the knights from distant regions, Alice and Kent’s adversaries in the second round were all familiar faces from Cloudmist Castle—seasoned veterans and old acquaintances.

The previous matches had already weeded out those who were lacking, leaving only those who had proven their worth by victory. Regardless of their strength or perceived weakness, each contender had demonstrated merit and deserved serious consideration.

Concerned for Kent’s well-being, Alice paid close attention to him before the match commenced.

Perhaps it was the ease with which he had triumphed in his prior bout, or perhaps it was Knight Philo’s words that unsettled him, but he appeared noticeably tense at this moment.

This heightened awareness, however, was not necessarily a bad sign. Alice felt a measure of reassurance and shifted her focus intently to her opponent, ready for what lay ahead.

She faced her opponent, Horton—the boisterous neighbor who lived just next door.

Unlike the many knights within Cloudmist Castle who harbored a deep hostility toward her, Horton was, in truth, not so formidable—merely somewhat irritating with his incessant chatter and an ability that was quite average.

Standing opposite Alice, he appeared a touch nervous; yet, she suspected that his demeanor would have been similar regardless of his opponent. It was difficult to comprehend how he had managed to win the previous game.

However, once the duel truly commenced, Horton revealed a vastly different presence.

Beneath his seemingly carefree and nonsensical exterior lay a sharp and cunning mind. He excelled in deception, frequently altering his sword’s trajectory unexpectedly, causing his blade to materialize in the most unforeseen places.

Perhaps he believed that Alice, accustomed to wielding heavy swords, would be less agile and less perceptive to such tactics.

If he had known that Alice preferred a lighter sword, he might have realized that she was more agile, more adaptable, and far more skilled at executing surprise attacks than he was.

Time and again, she was able to parry his sudden strikes with ease, demonstrating her strength, youth, and superior agility—traits that rendered his tactics ineffective.

The confrontation between the two fighters was surprisingly brief, at least by Alice’s expectations. She attributed this swift conclusion to Horton’s repeated sneak attacks being effectively thwarted, causing his confidence to waver.

Sensing her moment, she seized the opportunity and brought him down in a decisive stroke.

While vanquishing the outspoken Horton in a sword duel might not be a monumental feat, she found great satisfaction in demonstrating her true prowess to the knights of Cloudmist Castle.

Kent’s unexpected progress was a delightful surprise, especially given his reputation as one of the less skilled swordsmen at Cloudmist Castle. Yet, in terms of popularity, he perhaps reigned supreme within the castle walls.

The ladies in the stands were less concerned with skill and more captivated by youthful charm and good looks.

When the referee announced Kent as the victor, the crowd responded with enthusiasm—flinging small bouquets in his direction, and some young women even tore the floral decorations from their chests and tossed them onto the stage, nearly overwhelming him with their adoration.

Emerging gracefully from the vibrant sea of blossoms, he extended his hand and offered Alice a spirited high five.

The Cloudmist Castle was a rare haven for women, and never before had he found himself so surrounded by so many, leaving him momentarily overwhelmed.

Alice couldn’t suppress a gentle laugh upon witnessing his bemusement. Her amusement was not merely at Kent’s charming awkwardness but also at how seamlessly events were unfolding.

Following the second competition, only twelve knights remained—three of whom were from their own group. As long as the seasoned old Knight Philo, who had yet to compete, did not falter in his next match, all three of them would secure positions within the top third of the rankings, ensuring they wouldn’t negatively impact the team’s overall standing.

That evening, Alice longed to venture into the village to check for any updates to the list and to visit Kent, offering him a word of encouragement. Yet, she was utterly exhausted.

The weariness stemming from her anxious state was more overwhelming than her physical tiredness, and she sank onto the bed, unwilling to stir.

In a gentle whisper, Cecilion appeared beside her, “You’re doing well. I believe you can win.”

Had anyone else spoken these words, they might have sounded merely supportive; but coming from Cecilion, they felt like a prophecy, imbued with a profound sense of hope that truly uplifted her spirits.

“Tomorrow morning, I will face the Sir Santan from the Krosh faction, in the upcoming match. Should I succeed, I am likely to encounter a wandering knight in the afternoon,” she murmured softly, recalling the schedule she had reviewed earlier.

“These opponents are hardly a cause for concern,” He assured her. “Tomorrow’s game will be straightforward. It’s the third day that you should truly be wary of.”

As she sought to inquire further, Cecilion vanished once more, as if guided by some higher principle that prevented him from revealing the full truth about what lay ahead.

She pondered these words for a moment before her eyelids grew heavy, and she succumbed to a restful, deep sleep.

As Cecilion had predicted, the second day of the tournament unfolded smoothly, and for her, it proved to be a most successful day.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Kent and Knight Philo.

In the morning, Kent was swiftly bested by a wandering knight, while Knight Philo encountered a formidable challenge in his initial bout.

Accustomed to swiftly defeating his adversaries, Knight Philo found his opponent, perceiving him as aged and frail, deliberately prolonging the encounter. Though he ultimately struck a decisive blow to his opponent’s vital point, the opponent’s waning strength contributed to his defeat in the afternoon match.

Alice had believed he would secure a place among the top three, yet he was ultimately halted at sixth—an unfortunate turn.

This outcome also served as a reminder that the challengers she would face tomorrow might differ significantly from those she had faced today, promising new challenges ahead.

While she was thinking about his opponent the next day, Kent was worried about other things.

Although he lost, the girls who were fascinated by him did not despise him. After all, he was a high-scoring player in the previous archery competition, and they had high hopes for the upcoming jousting.

Although he lost for a while, it did not change his high popularity. The sense of loss brought by the failure made the girls feel pity for him. At noon, many girls even plucked up the courage to run to the castle barracks and threw countless handkerchiefs in front of him.

Yesterday Kent won, and he happily accepted the girls’ blessings. After losing today, he felt extremely embarrassed.

Faced with the girls’ enthusiasm, he didn’t know what to do and just wanted to leave.

Alice helped him pick up the handkerchiefs on the ground, stuffed them all into his hands, and joked with him, “You don’t have to buy handkerchiefs for the next two years.”

The duo retired to their chambers to rest and reflect.

Alice changed out of her dusty garments and reclined on the bed, contemplating the impending match.

Among the trio, the most renowned was the 26-year-old Knight Arnold. He was the distinguished protégé of the first knight under the duchess, Knight Pulan, and widely regarded as the leader of Cloudmist Castle’s new generation.

Many believed he embodied the greatest martial prowess within the castle and was destined to claim the title of master swordsman.

In contrast, the other contender was the enigmatic wandering Bennett—a true dark horse. Having broken through numerous sieges, he had defeated many promising competitors, including the venerable Knight Philo. Bennett’s remarkable rise and formidable skill rendered him a figure of intrigue and anticipation.

Alice was not too worried about Arnold. She had lived in Cloudmist Castle for so long that she knew his swordsmanship like the back of her hand.

What made her more nervous was the wandering knight. A wandering knight who could rank among the top three definitely did not rely on luck.

Such a person had not received systematic training in the castle, but perhaps he had encountered some special experiences and possessed swordsmanship that others could not imagine.

She was just about to take a rest and then go out of the castle to find Knight Philo and talk to him about the wandering knight. At this moment, there was a sudden knock on the door.

She thought it was Kent, so she shouted, “The door is not locked, come in!”

The door opened from the outside.

She looked at the door and saw that it was not Kent who was standing on the threshold, but a young noble lady. Judging by her dress, she must be a guest, invited by the duchess to watch the martial arts competition.

She thought that she had not come for her sake, because she had never had any fans.

However, recently, quite a lot of servants and young ladies had been crowding at Kent’s door, and she had already gotten a little used to it.

She pointed to the wall next to her, “You have the wrong door, Kent lives over there.”

Hearing her words, the lady was slightly taken aback, but did not turn around and leave, as she thought.

Instead, she remained standing in place and nodded, “Well… Miss Quint, I actually came to see you.”