“They’re talking about what? Why haven’t they started yet?”
“Could it be that Momoka was bought off too? That would be so boring!”
“No way. Look at Momoka’s expression—she’s not like Rita. She’s not that kind of person!”
“Ugh, I really want this to start soon. I just want to see how exactly Rita lost.”
Outside the arena, voices buzzed with speculation, while inside, the atmosphere was tense and charged.
This assessment had reached the final day’s end, and since there was no urgent need for the two candidates to engage immediately, the judges did not rush them.
Only when Rita and Momoka had assumed their stances and ceased their exchange did the referee give the order.
“Exam! Begin!”
Before the words had even fallen, Momoka raised her hand and thrust her spear forward like a streak of lightning straight at Rita’s chest.
One strike would suffice.
She didn’t intend to kill, but to inflict a slight injury on this despicable cheat who had sullied the assessment, as a lesson.
However, what she felt in her hand was not the spear piercing flesh, but a sudden numbing tingle.
Rita’s sword had only been drawn a finger’s length, but that finger-long blade was exactly enough to intercept the spear’s path, completely blocking Momoka’s supposedly decisive strike.
Momoka, seeing this, also tilted her sword diagonally across her chest, her thumb lightly pushing against the guard to make the blade slightly scrape—nothing more.
At the same time, the entire arena erupted in astonishment.
The candidates who were supposed to watch quietly all let out exclamations.
“Blocked… blocked? Could this be cheating?”
“Cheating? You don’t know how fast Momoka is. Could you block her strike if it was you?”
“How… how did she do that?”
“How did she do that?” Among the candidates, Grom—wrapped in bandages—snorted disdainfully: “Have you considered the possibility that Rita was never a weakling?”
Several days earlier, at the Lord Mayor’s Mansion.
“Take everything you brought with you and go back,” Cecilia said softly in the reception room, casting a glance over the piles of treasure scattered across the room.
Grom glanced at his father beside him, clenching his teeth.
They had summoned that cunning white-haired girl just to announce that Rita belonged to the Fourth Princess, and then to humiliate everyone.
Grom himself did not approve of bribery and was unwilling to let his father worry over the assessment.
His Proof of Assessment had been earned through his own strength.
As long as he gave his all, he was confident he could qualify as a Holy Knight.
Was he really worse than those young masters and misses?
Yet, on the day he successfully won the first day’s arena match, his father—far away by thousands of miles—suddenly appeared before him, bearing wealth that Grom doubted their family could have gathered.
“This is all money your mother and I worked hard to save. You don’t know, but everyone says you have to give the examiners some benefits. If you don’t, why would they choose you? Besides, if you become a Holy Knight, won’t you earn back all of this and more?”
Grom didn’t agree with his father’s thinking, nor did he believe the princess would care about the money.
Their family lacked both influence and wealth.
What they considered astronomical sums would be a mere drop in the ocean to the princess.
Still, he couldn’t refuse his father who had traveled so far.
Nor did he know how much his father had sacrificed just to secure the chance to meet the princess.
So here he was, standing.
Boiling with rage, Grom listened to all this and felt a surge of anger rise to his head.
“This is too much!”
He thought he was mumbling to himself, but when he looked up, everyone in the room was staring at him.
His father’s eyes widened as he shakily approached, grabbing Grom’s head and pressing it down.
“Gr-Grom, what are you saying in front of Her Highness the Princess? Apologize! Kneel and apologize!”
Grom knew he had made a huge mistake, but at this moment, he was no longer afraid.
This was a crisis—but also a golden opportunity.
If he wanted to become a Holy Knight, he couldn’t back down now.
“Your Highness the Princess, please forgive my earlier disrespect,” he said, kneeling on one knee before Cecilia, striving to remain composed. “I did not intend to offend you; I just cannot accept this.”
As soon as he spoke, several sharp intakes of breath echoed through the room.
This was an offense—an outright challenge!
Grom kept his head bowed, unable to see Cecilia’s expression.
Her voice, however, gave nothing away.
“And what do you propose to do about it?”
Grom lifted his gaze, looking past Cecilia to the silver-haired girl behind her.
“I want to challenge Rita to a duel—fair and square, like a true knight!”
He could no longer recall why he had said those words.
Perhaps to prove he was different, perhaps to salvage his pride, or perhaps he’d simply lost his mind.
But the words were out.
“Rita, he has said this,” Cecilia said, turning to look at her with a questioning tone.
“Your Highness, I only obey your commands,” Rita lowered her head, and the words confirmed the close bond between her and the princess.
“Then, accept the challenge.”
“As you wish.”
The duel was held in the backyard of the Lord Mayor’s Mansion.
All those gathered in the room were invited to witness.
Grom drew his sword and bowed slightly to Rita, but she only nodded blankly, seeming to ask, “I can move once it starts, right?”
You don’t understand knightly etiquette.
Who knows how much the princess’s favor you’ve bought, or what background you have!
But since you accepted the duel, let me show you what I’m truly made of.
“Begin.”
Before Cecilia’s voice had fallen, Grom charged at Rita, sword held with both hands.
But all he saw was a shadow appear before him.
Then, a sharp pain erupted in his chest, and he flew backward for no apparent reason, crashing into Stone Hill that decorated the yard, followed by a spinning dizziness.
Before losing consciousness, he heard Rita murmuring quietly.
“Did I use too much force?”
Grom couldn’t see clearly, but that didn’t stop the onlookers from witnessing everything.
A single kick.
Just like when Rita had kicked the other contestants out of the arena, only one kick.
But the force and speed were vastly different.
If Rita had used such strength during the assessment, several people here would probably be bedridden.
At least, Grom himself was bedridden for three days before he could get up.
After that three-second duel ended, everyone silently gathered their gifts and left the Lord Mayor’s Mansion, never mentioning the event again.
It was as if nothing had happened that night.