I Became a Tin Knight
Chapter 96: The Tin Knight and The Martial Arts Tournament (3)

“That lord bastard. He doesn’t seem to understand words,” Maximilian Egir Haidern lamented before the preliminaries.

Maximilian, a nobleman of blue blood, destined to move history—or at least, that was what he thought—for him, winning the martial arts tournament wasn’t a goal, but one of the many ornaments he should naturally hold.

The rise of Maximilian’s honor and authority meant raising the reputation of the “Patriotic Youth Group” he led, and further, protecting the Empress and Crown Prince.

If given the chance to contribute to this great patriotism, it was natural to joyfully offer everything including liver and gall, but the Lord of Thracus ignored Maximilian’s request with all sorts of excuses.

Ah, how rude and ill-mannered he was.

Moreover, the lord didn’t even sincerely respond to the mysterious case of memory loss the youth group experienced about half a month ago.

Since they experienced such a thing while patrolling the surroundings to eliminate bandits and magic beasts, it was natural for the Lord of Thracus to take responsibility for this.

Of course, the lord’s position, who hadn’t even ordered such patrols in the first place, was not for Maximilian to consider.

“This is truly displeasing.”

The fact that someone as special as himself, without the “natural consideration” of advancing straight to the finals, had to fight from the preliminaries just like other commoners, and the current situation where he tried to get close to Algind Goodwitch, the Witch of the South’s protégé, who could be considered a political ally, but it wasn’t going well.

Harboring dissatisfaction with all of this, Maximilian drew his sword.

Conveniently, suitable “stress relief targets” were scattered about.

“Ugh!”

“Aaargh!”

His skills were formidable, having been taught by first-class knights since childhood, consuming every beneficial elixir, and armed with top-grade equipment.

While massive cash investments might not be enough to straighten out one’s mental faculties, they were sufficient to raise catalog specs.

His sword, spewing sword energy, cut down other participants like paper.

Maximilian’s sword strikes, using the preliminaries as his stress relief venue, were cruel.

Other participants gritted their teeth at his behavior of deliberately finishing off opponents with additional attacks, even after they were already incapacitated.

“Kill that bastard first!”

“Surround him!”

In a deathmatch-style melee, it was natural for someone stronger or more hated than others to become a common enemy.

Even while receiving the hostility of all participants, Maximilian showed composure, “Do you think the likes of you gathered together can dare to be my match?”

Swords, spears, daggers. Various attacks aimed for Maximilian’s openings.

Some were blocked by Maximilian’s sword, some were dodged, but among them were attacks that hit Maximilian.

“Got him!”

A swordsman’s slash forcefully cut Maximilian’s exposed back—

Crack!

—his sword breaking upon impact.

“Huh?”

The broken remnants of his sword, and Maximilian’s face looking down at him with a contemptuous gaze.

That was the last sight the swordsman ever saw.

Maximilian, who beheaded the swordsman who aimed for his back, looked around with an even more leisurely attitude.

After experiencing the mysterious memory loss phenomenon, he had further strengthened and upgraded his already top-tier equipment.

Maximilian’s defense, plastered with various magic equipment, had already reached a level where it ignored even decent sword energy.

Slash! Slash!

“Ugh!”

“These bastards…!?”

The participants’ misfortune didn’t end there.

Most of the Patriotic Youth Group was scattered in the process of the blocks being divided here and there, but among them were those placed in the same block as Maximilian.

They moved back and forth across the arena, stabbing the backs of participants trying to surround Maximilian.

They, too, were armed with quality equipment, though not to the level of Maximilian.

With helpers added to Maximilian, who already boasted strong attack power and defense, other participants had no way to deal with it.

“Damn, this tournament is a bust!”

“Shit, to end up in the same block as this guy!”

Seeing Maximilian mercilessly slaughtering surrounding figures, participants swallowed their frustration and escaped outside the baseline drawn on the outskirts of the arena.

It would be a loss by going out of bounds, but it would be better than dying like this.

Watching this scene, the platinum adventurer Peter clicked his tongue.

It’s quite different from that golden-haired kid.

Looking at the match content alone, Adelaide had won overwhelmingly without particularly struggling, but the match time itself was quite long.

This was because participants, realizing that Adelaide wasn’t actively aiming to kill, kept charging at her with a “whether it works or not” mentality or tried to consume her stamina using others.

In the end, they settled it among themselves, daunted by Adelaide’s unwavering appearance no matter what they did, but that process wasn’t so short.

In contrast, because Maximilian was brutally killing all the enemies he faced, other participants couldn’t easily charge at him.

After some skilled and aggressive participants died, others just watched each other warily, getting picked off one by one or giving up early and forfeiting.

The time taken to victory and the consequent stamina consumption were much less, so looking at the method alone, Maximilian’s could be said to be wiser than Adelaide’s.

However…

I don’t like that bastard.

Efficiency be damned, if asked which was more likable between a human butcher who killed people like insects and a little lion with minimal consideration and mercy, Peter had no choice but to raise his hand for the latter.

And it seemed this wasn’t just Peter’s impression.

《Hmm, the skill itself is somewhat passable, but somehow he doesn’t seem like an opponent that would be fun to fight.》

A figure occupying the seat next to Peter in the audience spoke.

Towards the opponent covered from head to toe in a large robe without any gaps, Peter said incredulously, “What are you doing here again? Is it okay for the so-called champion to be watching in a place like this?”

At Peter’s words, the champion, Kalidahs, grumbled.

《Be quiet. Can’t you see I’m in disguise trying to hide my identity?》

“If you really wanted to hide your identity, it seems faster to take off your armor rather than wear such a cloth.”

《I would if I could. I have my circumstances too.》

“Huh, whatever.”

Peter stuck out his tongue, saying what an awkward fellow.

In fact, he wasn’t in a position to talk about others, either.

Peter spoke as if complaining, “Haa, well, things are turning out strangely. The opponent I dreamed of a rematch with slipped into the team competition. Moreover, the intriguing young lady is also participating together on that team. I should have just switched over there, too.”

《You don’t even have a team, do you?》

“It’s common for adventurers to form teams with people they don’t know well.”

《Oh, please. Everyone knows ‘Platinum’ is picky about parties, yet you lie without even applying saliva. And saying ‘intriguing young lady’ at your age? Too shameless.》

“The world only sees things at face value.”

It was a statement filled with deep wisdom.

Kalidahs also closed their mouth, seemingly unable to refute.

After Maximilian and one of his followers advanced to the finals, the one who shone on the stage that unfolded next was a mage.

Watching the young man overwhelm other participants with flashy fire magic, Peter and Kalidahs each gave their evaluations.

“Quite useful, isn’t he? As expected, the friends from the Tower of Annihilation are good at attack magic.”

《It was wise to hide in a corner where others couldn’t see and quickly create a wall of flames first. Once you block approach like that, warriors who don’t have excellent armor or haven’t reached the pinnacle of body strengthening have no way to attack. He’s good enough for a mage to participate in individual matches without a familiar.》

Several more matches followed, but no participants caught their eye.

There were those with excellent skills, but to the eyes of these two who had reached the pinnacle, those with unique individuality like the earlier ones were more interesting than simply skilled ones.

“Among those advancing to the finals, the notable ones are the golden-haired little miss, the gold-painted butcher, and the mage from the Magic State, I guess?”

《For speed and endurance, the first; for mana quantity and defense, the second; for range and firepower, the third.》

“I’d love to personally crush the second one with my own hands if possible. Hey, Champion. Why don’t you try rigging the match-ups?”

《Such authority… well, it’s not that I don’t have it, but I won’t. It makes the matches less fun. You know that, don’t you?》

“Hmm, that’s true.”

Peter stood up.

He said with a grin, “Well then, can’t be helped. We’ll have to leave it to luck. That’s also an important pillar of adventure in its own right.”

Peter leaped.

Other spectators were shocked by Peter suddenly jumping from the middle of the audience seats, but Peter didn’t fall down.

Tap!

The moment he stepped forward forcefully, as if there was a foothold in mid-air, his body moved forward once again.

He descended through the air as if hopping across stepping stones or running down wide stairs and landed in the center of the arena.

The last stage of the preliminaries.

Receiving shocked gazes directed at him, Peter drew his dagger.

Flicking his dagger, he said, “What? You’re not going to come at me?”

***

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