The Female Knight of Doom - TFKOD 56: Martial Arts Tournament (6)

If the horseshoe cannot be securely reattached, Grumpy will be disqualified from competition.

Alice had never before contemplated such a scenario.

Clearly, although the knights spent their days lamenting honor and reputation, their actions were no more noble than those of the passersby randomly pulled from the street. As long as no one witnessed them removing the Grumpy’s hoof nails with their own hands, they could maintain the illusion of noble character.

When she first observed this, she assumed it was some sort of game in which participants sought to undermine each other. However, upon reflection, she realized that was not the case.

She was a mercenary, and her lack of advantage in jousting was well known. This fact was no secret; all the knights present understood it perfectly. If someone aimed to diminish their team’s score, targeting her would have been counterproductive; it would have been more effective to focus on Kent or Knight Philo.

Furthermore, if their intention was merely to prevent her from winning, they could have employed more subtle tactics.

For instance, by discreetly removing a single horseshoe nail, Alice might have remained unaware until the competition, yet the horse’s comfort would have been compromised, impairing her performance. The individual responsible evidently hoped to force her to abandon altogether—a blatant act of sabotage, a clear declaration of hostility and conspiracy.

When the word “waiver” entered her mind, a name surfaced: Arnold.

She wondered if this was the same Arnold who had withdrawn from the previous contest.

The thought flickered briefly, but she quickly dismissed it.

Arnold, though somewhat slow, was a decent man and unlikely to stoop to such treachery. As for who might have committed this act, the answer was not difficult to deduce.

She vividly remembered the sneering expressions and the occasional cutting remarks exchanged across the duchess’ dinner table. The individual who managed to do this unnoticed was likely not an outsider knight, but rather someone from the familiar faces she encountered daily.

After carefully ruling out the less probable suspects, the list narrowed to just two or three individuals, making it straightforward to identify the culprit.

She could only speculate on their thoughts and motives.

To the knights, who took pride in their noble status, Alice was merely a woman—a mercenary of humble origins. Her very presence challenged the very foundation of their knightly order. Such a notion was utterly unacceptable to them.

While they could not openly question the duchess’ decision, they sought to demonstrate, in their own silent ways, that she could not truly be considered a knight.

Jousting embodies the very essence of knighthood. Should Alice forsake this noble pursuit, even if she bears the title of knight, the recognition of her peers will falter; her honor will be diminished in their eyes.

Those who removed Grumpy’s horseshoe likely did so with calculated intent—perhaps believing they were upholding the true spirit of knighthood rather than breaching its sacred code.

She let out a cold laugh at such notions.

If they wish to exclude her from the competition, let them; it matters little. She intends not only to participate but to excel, ensuring that any knight who doubts her will be left to seethe in silent envy.

But that is a matter for the future.

For now, her immediate concern is securing a suitable horse.

If only the groom were present, re-nailing the shoe would be a swift task. Unfortunately, the stables are deserted at the moment—likely because the coachman has gone off to watch the races.

Meanwhile, Grumpy had his hoof lifted and examined countless times, and now his nerves are frayed, rendering him unfit to race.

Kent, who was accompanying her, was also distraught at the situation and tried to offer some advice, “You can ride Old Man Philo’s horse. He’s not here today, so I don’t think he’ll mind.”

As with the fencing tournament, Knight Philo couldn’t participate until tomorrow due to the large number of participants. This was necessary for him, who had just recovered from a fever and was in a bad mood, unable to immediately ride for the jousting.

Riding someone else’s horse might not be as comfortable as riding one’s own, but it was a solution.

Alice approached Knight Philo’s mare. Whether or not she was Grumpy by the thought, she was even more restless than usual. She placed her hand on her neck, but she shook her body uncomfortably, clearly rejecting her touch.

She looked at Kent and spread her hands innocently, “She doesn’t like me.”

He sighed, “Never mind. If my Lightning were a bit more patient, I wouldn’t mind you riding him, but Lightning doesn’t like anyone. If you’re not careful, he could kill you.”

Kent’s concerns were well-founded. The joust stood as the most perilous of the three events.

A knight’s failure to establish trust with his steed could result in being unseated long before his opponent’s lance found its mark. Such tragedies were commonplace at nearly every tournament, as fallen knights often suffered broken necks from awkward landings.

To complete an entire jousting event without a single fatality was almost considered a miracle. Yet, at this late stage, where could she possibly find a horse with which she could truly forge a connection?

If all else failed, she would have to rely on Knight Philo’s steed. With Cecilion’s assistance, she might avoid a fatal fall, but winning the competition on that horse would undoubtedly prove a formidable challenge.

Perhaps it was because Alice had thought of Cecilion’s name that his voice suddenly resonated, “Get Kent out of the way, and I’ll find you a horse to ride.”

At that moment, his voice sounded as natural and soothing to Alice as the melody of the wind through the trees.

Promptly, she called out to Kent, “Kent, could you go ahead and check how the race is progressing? I might have a way to get us a horse.”

Though a bit puzzled, he nodded and trotted away from the stable.

She then heard Cecilion’s voice again, clear and deliberate, “Do you remember when I mentioned I possessed some… uh… magic I’m not entirely familiar with, from Panlos?”

Alice recalled the incident, yet she couldn’t understand why He would bring it up now, amid such urgency.

She listened intently as Cecilion continued, with some difficulty, “Those powers actually… allow me to transform into animals with substance.”

“Are you saying…?”

“I can turn into a horse, and you can ride on my back to join the race.”

The notion of riding a creature disguised as a god into a jousting tournament was certainly daring. But given the circumstances, what other choice did she have? Alice found herself unexpectedly eager for the plan.

“Then let’s do it this way,” she decided.

As she spoke, a magnificent black stallion suddenly materialized outside the stables, as if conjured by magic. Saddled and bridled, the horse stood tall and regal, its gleaming coat accentuated by a silver star on his forehead and four pristine white feet. He surpassed even the duchess’ prized steed in splendor.

Alice gently stroked his mane, silky and black as night, then reached out to touch his nose. The horse responded by nuzzling her face affectionately, just like a real creature.

His beauty was unparalleled—more breathtaking than any horse Alice had ever seen—and every rider would envy such a noble steed.

She could almost envision the astonished expressions of the men who had previously dismissed her with Grumpy’s horseshoes, now witnessing her riding this extraordinary black horse. Yet, as she considered that this majestic creature was actually Cecilion, a strange sensation stirred within her.

She had envisioned that, once He possessed enough strength, Cecilion would manifest in a human form. But she had never anticipated that his first appearance would be in such a regal, equine guise.

At that moment, Kent returned from the front. He was preoccupied, so he rushed towards him with his head down, not even having time to look up.

“You’d better hurry,” he urged anxiously.

“They’re done, you can hear the cheers from the arena even from here… You’ll be on the track in ten minutes… Where did that horse come from?” As he said his last sentence, Kent raised his head and stared at the suddenly appeared horse in surprise.

“Ah… that’s not easy to explain.” She thought for a moment and decided not to tell Kent an extravagant lie, “I’ll tell you when I have the chance.”

Kent grimaced, a hint of discontent flickering across his face, yet he acknowledged the truth in her words—time was pressing, and urgency demanded their swift action.

He still needed to assist Alice in donning her complete suit of armor.

Leading the horse, Alice made her way toward the racecourse alongside Kent. Throughout, Kent’s gaze remained fixed on Cecilion, unwavering and attentive.

“What a magnificent horse… what’s his name?” he inquired.

Alice hesitated, unprepared for such a question, and nearly revealed Cecilion’s true name.

Instead, she quickly simplified it, “Cec… Cecy. His name is Cecy.”

She chose to give the Cecilion a more diminutive, animal-like moniker.

He responded with a gentle hiss, as if accepting the new name with a mixture of resignation and quiet understanding.

Alice concealed a secret smile, affectionately patting its head.

The arena lay conveniently close to the stables, where temporary tents had been pitched along both sides, providing a sanctuary for the knights to rest and prepare—an essential space for changing into their armor.

Typically, participation in jousting requires a complete suit of armor, yet Alice’s chainmail was too delicate to withstand such a contest. Fortuitously, the duchess graciously entrusted the key to the armory to her knights, granting her and Kent the opportunity to select armor that best suited their frames.

With Kent’s skillful assistance, she donned a full suit of armor. Though it was somewhat aged and a tad loose, fitting imperfectly, these details mattered little.

The moment she appeared mounted on Cecilion’s back on the field, the spectators would see only one truth: she was the bravest and most noble knight in all of Cloudmist Castle.