In baseball, when there’s a bench-clearing brawl, the umpire settles things by ejecting whoever started it, but tournament brawls don’t work that way. When the War Ministry knights started throwing punches at the Imperial Knights, the first people to flee were the referees.

For them, trying to stop knights from fighting was literally risking their lives.

And these kinds of tournament brawls were surprisingly common, happening at almost every event. While the War Ministry and Imperial Knights were regulars, even knights who had nothing to do with the feud didn’t hesitate to jump in and start swinging.

Waaah!

Fight! Fight!

The spectators went wild with excitement.

Knights beating each other up was entertaining to watch.

That’s why carrying weapons was banned during tournament periods. It was incredibly lucky this wasn’t a team competition match. In team competitions they use blunted club-swords, and if you got hit without a helmet, your fragile human skull would get crushed.

Well, my fists weren’t exactly gentle either.

Thwack! Thwack!

"Agh!"

"Ugh!"

I lightly tapped Imperial Knights’ heads with one-two punches while wearing gauntlets. I had Ted and Oscar guarding my back. Tournament armor was heavy as hell. But surprisingly, maybe because I’d used the medical service, all that weight felt light and I was full of energy.

So I became a tank, waddling around in my bulky armor and knocking down every Imperial Knight in sight. Ted and Oscar watched my back to keep me from accidentally toppling over. I pushed forward like a battering ram, cracking skulls with my gauntlets left and right.

The lance cavalry were horrified watching me.

"Aaah, it’s a knight in full armor!"

"That’s cheating! Ugh!"

I’ll just smash everyone. Not just the Imperial Knights who caused this brawl, but the Offenburg knights who jumped in to avenge their young master, and even the Beren Lance Cavalry who joined for fun—everyone was equal before my fists. Then knights who sensed danger started swarming toward me.

So I switched from punches to wrestling.

Wrestling was what I’d trained in most. Knights are wrestling specialists.

I grabbed them, hooked their legs and threw them down, or seized their collars and flipped them backward.

Crash!

Argh!

But you can’t fight numbers—I got dogpiled in an instant. When War Ministry knights and Steinhof knights saw this and rushed to help, a human tower formed. What a complete mess. Eventually, the Grand Duke, who’d been happily watching the brawl for a while, sent in suppression forces and put an end to it.

"Your spirited display seems to brighten Beren’s future. However, make an effort to follow tournament rules. The Imperial Knights commander violated the sacred tournament spirit, so I declare a forfeit. Therefore, the Lord of Feuzen advances to round 6."

The Grand Duke solemnly settled things after gathering the knights who’d brawled. In the end, I was recognized as the victor and advanced to round 6, while the Imperial Knights were recorded as having definitively lost to the War Ministry. When the Grand Duke officially confirmed this, the War Ministry knights erupted in cheers.

Then some knights ran over and suddenly hoisted me onto their shoulders. The tournament armor must’ve been pretty heavy, but with several people lifting together, I went right up. As expected, when sturdy men work as a team, they can probably lift a car. Countless knights and nobles cheered as they looked up at me.

"The Gale Knight! Lord of Feuzen!"

"Our hero who defeated the Imperial Knights commander!"

I didn’t know if they were happy because I’d put on an entertaining show or because I’d smashed the Imperial Knights they despised, but I waved at Hilda instead of dwelling on it. As if on cue, Hilda threw me a flower. I caught it, kissed it, and held it high.

My victory belonged only to her. No one else could intrude. And the noblewomen around her threw flowers to the knights as if they’d all agreed in advance.

It was like a shower of flowers.

The knights went wild receiving flowers from noblewomen they hadn’t expected to notice them. I could understand their joy, since few actually received flowers from noblewomen. But how long were they going to carry me around? They circled the field for ages like it was a victory parade.

"Hehehe, man. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a satisfying day in my life. Those Imperial bastards won’t ever dare act up in front of the War Ministry again. Hell, they won’t even be able to show their faces, right? Hahaha!"

Michael’s laughter wouldn’t stop in the waiting room. When I told him to quit laughing, he didn’t care at all. I’d never seen Michael like this before. His face was covered in bruises, but he seemed to have forgotten the pain in the satisfaction of thrashing the Imperial Knights.

"That idiot who tried to insult my brother-in-law especially got what he deserved. He asked Hilda for a flower and got destroyed by you—he was completely humiliated, wasn’t he? Plus, he hurt his shoulder, so it’ll be hard for him to make a comeback."

No matter how much tournament armor protects your body, jousting is a sport where you can die if you get hit wrong. Especially since the Knights commander had had murderous intent at the end and attacked my head. I’d defended appropriately by blocking with my lance, but I hadn’t expected it to break and stab him directly in the shoulder.

Seeing how bloody he was when they removed his helmet, it looked like wood splinters had gotten lodged in the gaps of his armor. If it had been a normal match I’d feel guilty, but feeling guilty toward that bastard was impossible. A man who dared hit on Hilda and even tried to kill me—even guilt was a luxury wasted on him.

"I don’t know what happened to him, but if his shoulder’s completely wrecked, he won’t be able to come back. It’s so satisfying not having to see that face for a while."

"Actually, I’m a bit worried about that—won’t the Offenburg marquis family retaliate?"

There are exactly two marquises in the Duchy of Beren: old man Bertheim and the ruler of the north. Isn’t the gap in power too vast? This northern ruler governs three territories. His domain is probably comparable in size to the combined border territories adjacent to Burgundy—Euz, Essenbach, and Belfort.

"You don’t need to worry about it, brother-in-law. If they made an issue out of injuries from a tournament, all of Europe would have to go to war with each other, right? And even if Offenburg raises a fuss, it won’t stick against us. A regional lord is king on his own land, but in the capital he’s no match for us."

No matter how powerful the marquis family was, that was only true within Offenburg’s territory.

Their allied nobles in the capital might make moves, but I had the War Ministry and its allies behind me. And other ministerial families were likely to take my side because they disliked regional lords extending their influence into the capital. Still, I should probably avoid setting foot in Offenburg territory for a while.

"It would’ve been a bigger problem if Father had jumped in, right?"

The fortunate thing was that Viscount Loewenbert had desperately held back my father-in-law and kept him from joining the brawl. If my father-in-law had waded in, the aftermath would’ve been far harder to manage. Unlike anyone else involved, my father-in-law was the War Minister. That position carried enormous weight.

If my father-in-law had jumped in, the other ministers might’ve heaped criticism on him for shamelessly joining a brawl. The Finance Minister especially would’ve been thrilled at the opportunity. That was partly why I’d so enthusiastically thrown punches myself—to give my father-in-law no reason to step in. I thanked Viscount Loewenbert for holding him back.

The arena that had been wrecked by the brawl was quickly cleaned up.