At noon, the horn sounded.
On the high platform of the castle square, the two main characters of this game had taken their seats.
On one side was Count Caspar, dressed in luxurious attire, leisurely reclining against his chair with a glass of wine in hand.
On the other side was Yilin, similarly dressed in elegant clothing, but sitting upright and serious-faced.
Below the platform, marked by a central dividing line, the left side was occupied by Yilin's twenty-five attendants, including knights and their squires in formal knightly armor, alongside fifteen mercenaries recruited temporarily dressed in a mismatched array of outfits. On the right side were Count Caspar's elite knights, forming a dense, oppressive crowd estimated to surpass Yilin's forces by threefold—at least one hundred and twenty strong.
Beyond that, on the outskirts beyond the hastily constructed fences, there was a bustling sea of spectators.
This small coastal town, typically devoid of entertainment, was now witness to a spectacular event—the streets were teeming with people, and many couldn't even make it through the crowd.
Of course, Gray was among the lucky few who managed to squeeze in, though Bone Horse Tenidas wasn't quite so fortunate.
"Those two on the stage, are they the lords in question?"
"Indeed."
"Hmm, that petite figure... I feel like I've seen them somewhere before."
"Petite figure? Are you talking about the woman? I don't recall ever seeing her."
"Hm... I can't remember. Forget it; it's not worth thinking about. By the way, which one should I swear allegiance to?"
"That depends on whether they're willing to take you in."
"Wait a second, I recognize the other person too."
"Who are you referring to?"
Gray extended his finger, pointing towards the red-haired mercenary on Yilin's side—Pas.
"The one who invited you at the tavern yesterday?"
"Exactly, I remember his aura clearly."
"Is he part of the Beisher Family as well?"
Gray's gaze fell upon the Beisher Family emblem on Pas's chest.
After a brief silence, Gray began pushing his way in Pas's direction.
"What are you trying to do?" The Black Cat nestled in Gray's armor began screeching.
"Didn't he invite me to join their mercenary group?"
"Are you planning to join right now?"
"Why not?"
"Oh my heavens! Don't you see they're about to duel? Without Bone Horse, how could you possibly stand a chance against them? I'm afraid a single hit from their shields will send you crumbling to pieces! These are legitimate knights, not some street thugs!"
"I won't crumble to pieces!" Gray declared resolutely.
From afar, Pas noticed Gray, and so did Yilin on the platform. Of course, Gray's conspicuously unassuming plate armor made him stand out awkwardly in the crowd.
Pas began waving in Gray's direction, and Gray responded by waving back.
After saying a word to those around him, Pas quickly walked to the edge of the fenced area and placed a hand on Gray's shoulder.
"Did you come looking for me? We're about to duel; let's talk afterward."
"Can I join you?" Gray asked bluntly.
Pas froze for a moment, taking a while to process what he'd heard. "You can, but you'll have to wait for a bit."
"Can't I join now?" Gray asked again.
Turning his head, Pas shouted toward Abi Robbs, who stood beside Yilin in the distance: "One more! Is that okay?"
Abi Robbs smiled and nodded.
"Of course!" Pas quickly reassured Gray.
Adjusting his helmet, Gray clambered over the low fence and stepped onto the sand-covered center ground.
"Isn't that the knight we encountered yesterday when we first arrived? He blocked our way back then. He's here too?" Yilin asked Abi Robbs.
"Judging by the armor, it's likely him. He's probably affiliated with the mercenary group. Earlier today, the group leader mentioned that some of their members were carrying out other missions and couldn't make it. Perhaps that mission just ended."
"What kind of mission—did the cat finally wake up from its nap?" Yilin quipped quietly. "Whatever. That heavy armor of his might as well give their side a workout, at least."
Stealing a glance at Yilin out of the corner of his eye, Count Caspar turned to his steward and sneered, "Running off to recruit those hooligans from the Red Scorpion Mercenary Group, huh? No wonder the Beisher Family has fallen into decline. Never mind, let her be. Bringing in more people doesn't matter. Losing decisively now is better than stirring up trouble later."
The duel's herald, dressed in voluminous robes, strode into the center and unfurled a scroll with a flourish, reading out loud, "This duel is jointly hosted by the Caspar Family and the Beisher Family…"
The crowd below remained utterly silent; participating knights and mercenaries, as well as onlookers, listened attentively.
"The match will consist of both ground combat and mounted combat, in a round-robin format. Each side will appoint one participant for a duel, with rules for mounted combat: being unseated, unconscious, deceased, leaving the field, or voluntarily surrendering constitutes a loss. Ground combat follows the same rules: unconsciousness, death, leaving the field, or voluntary surrender constitutes a loss. Losers will be eliminated. The winner must accept the challenge from the next opponent dispatched by the opposing side and has the right to choose whether the next round will be ground combat or mounted combat."
Yilin slowly turned her head, gazing at Count Caspar, who was stroking his chin and laughing gleefully.
"This process repeats until all members of one side are eliminated, upon which that side will be deemed the loser of the duel! If the Caspar Family loses, they must swear allegiance to Miss Yilin, promising to obey her commands—even if it means declaring war on Heaven, even if it means shedding their last drop of blood. If the Beisher Family loses, then Yilin Beibela Beixier must accept the marriage proposal of Count Caspar's son, Charles Kaspar, and a wedding date will be set! Now let both sides confirm the agreement and rules of the duel!"