Reincarnated Into The Middle Ages

At dusk, Baron Otto returned to the inn after his visit.

"Today went relatively well. Although it came at a great cost, I managed to get the introduction letter from the bishop," Baron Otto thought with disgust at the bishop's greedy face, but looking at the letter in his hand, those unpleasant feelings seemed insignificant.

"Eve, your sins will be absolved, and our family will reunite in heaven."

Baron Otto then wondered, "I wonder what little Norn has been up to today?" He walked into the inn's main hall.

"Little Norn, I'm your favorite Uncle William! Can you bear to see your Uncle William unable to afford even a mug of ale?"

"Little Norn, are you thirsty? Let me pour you some ale."

"Little Norn, you must be tired from standing all day. Let me massage your legs."

As soon as Baron Otto stepped into the hall, he saw Norn sitting expressionlessly in the center, with a deflated money pouch in front of him, and William hopping around like a sycophant.

"What… happened here?" Otto asked, puzzled, looking at Padrick.

"What else could it be?" Padrick replied, tossing a ridiculously swollen money pouch up and down, the coins inside jingling. "Gambling is a dangerous game!"

"Gambling is dangerous!" Norn echoed, taking a sip of the ale William had brought him. "Kids shouldn't gamble!"

"Yes, yes, Lord Norn, you're right. This kid shouldn't have gambled," William agreed obsequiously.

"Here you go," Norn said, tossing the money pouch.

William pounced on it like a hungry tiger, carefully counting the twelve silver dinars inside. After counting twice to make sure it was correct, he began fawning over Norn again.

"Next time there's an opportunity like this, make sure to call your Uncle William!"

"What exactly happened?" Baron Otto asked, unable to suppress a smile at the antics of the two.

"We went to watch a jousting match today," Padrick said, putting away the money pouch and getting serious. "There was an interesting knight named William Marshall."

Earlier that morning, when Norn placed Padrick's money pouch and his own pocket money on William Marshall, the surrounding crowd was stunned, speculating about where this prodigal child had come from.

Only the bookmaker smiled brightly, confirming the bet and issuing a receipt to Norn.

"If only more big spenders like this would come along!" While the bookmaker was still praying, Norn had already returned to Padrick's side.

At that moment, William also returned from placing his bet.

"Don't cry when you lose!" William said with a mischievous grin. Norn turned his head away, ignoring him.

Just then, two pages, each holding a green flag, approached the red and blue knights.

"It's starting!" The three of them turned their attention to the field.

The pages began waving their flags, and the bands on either side blew their horns, signaling the start. Both the red and blue knights spurred their horses into a gallop.

The warhorses neighed loudly, obeying their masters' commands, unleashing the powerful strength of their muscular bodies. In just a few breaths, the wind from the galloping horses became tangible. The rhythmic pounding of hooves seemed to echo in the hearts of the spectators, making their excitement rise.

In the sunlight, the two knights appeared like golden war gods. They simultaneously leveled their lances, tucking the butts under their arms to keep them steady.

Finally, the red and blue meteors were about to collide. The blue knight let out a roar, aiming his lance at his opponent.

With a loud crash, the two knights passed each other. The blue knight's lance shattered against the red knight's shield, while the red knight's lance failed to hit its mark.

The stands erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.

The blue knight, like a victorious general, basked in the audience's adulation. He raised his broken lance in triumph and rode back to the rest area.

"That red knight is hopeless," William said excitedly. "It looks easy to charge with a lance, but in reality, the knight has to maintain balance on a galloping horse and keep the lance steady with their wrist. Without a year or two of practice, you can't even hit a stationary pot, let alone a moving knight."

Padrick interrupted William's monologue. The red and blue knights, having rested and replaced their lances, began a new round of jousting.

This time, from the start, the red knight lagged behind. Despite the old horse's best efforts, it couldn't pick up speed.

The blue knight, on the other hand, kept accelerating, charging forward. Before the red knight could react, the blue knight's lance struck like a wolf, aiming for the red knight's side.

With another loud crash, the blue knight raised his broken lance again, enjoying even louder cheers than before. The red knight, like a wounded hyena, silently licked his wounds.

As the knights rested, William continued explaining to Norn, "And did you see the barrier in the middle?"

Seeing Norn's confusion, William continued, "The barrier divides the knights into two lanes. The rules require knights to hold their shields in their left hands and lances in their right."

Seeing Norn still puzzled, Padrick gently explained, "In simple terms, the knight has to attack from their weaker side while defending against the opponent's strongest attack."

"Exactly!" William agreed immediately. "See, that blue guy has some skill. He can accurately control his lance to avoid the opponent's shield. Although he's not as good as me, back in the day I…"

Ignoring William's endless boasting, Norn asked Padrick, "What's the flag for?"

The page on the blue knight's side, at the host's signal, planted a red flag in the blue knight's rest area.

"Scoring in the joust," Padrick replied. "Hitting the shield doesn't score, hitting the torso scores one point, and hitting the helmet scores three points. After five rounds, the higher score wins."

"Why is hitting the helmet worth so much?"

"Hahaha, silly Norn!" William laughed. "A head isn't a stationary target, and even if you hit a curved helmet, it's likely to glance off."

"Of course, there's another way to score, but it's very rare," Padrick said, shaking his head and turning back to the field.

Two more rounds passed during their conversation, with the blue knight scoring another point. His showboating increased, and his attacks grew fiercer. Watching the red knight and his old horse tremble under the blue knight's onslaught, the blue knight smirked, confident of even greater glory in the final round.

The final round began with a majestic horn blast. As in previous rounds, the blue knight charged ahead, accelerating continuously. The crowd cheered, as if the outcome was already decided.

"It's over!" Norn thought, tears welling up. "Did I really make a mistake?"

"No, wait!" Padrick noticed that the blue knight's horse, after continuous high-speed charges, was finally exhausted, panting heavily and unable to run as before. Meanwhile, the red knight maintained his previous speed.

The blue knight realized this too, but he continued to push his horse, losing the harmony they had before.

The distance between the knights closed. The red knight, seemingly too injured, leaned heavily towards the barrier.

Silently calculating the distance, the blue knight leaned back slightly and aimed his lance at the red knight's helmet, smiling at the thought of the glory awaiting him.

Now! The blue knight struck, his lance roaring like a lion.

But the red knight suddenly spurred his horse, which surged forward. The red knight's lance struck like a viper, aiming for the blue knight's helmet!

Two loud crashes sounded almost simultaneously! The crowd gasped in astonishment!

Both knights were hit hard, their bodies thrown back. Only the sturdy saddle walls kept them from falling off their horses.

The loyal horses continued to carry their unconscious riders forward.

The noisy crowd fell silent, watching to see which knight would regain consciousness first.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers! The blue knight's hand moved, struggling to lift it as if to accept the applause.

William sighed in relief, recalling how the red knight's lance seemed to have glanced off the helmet. "Thank goodness that strike missed!"

"Hahaha," William laughed, thinking of his heavy bet, and patted Norn's shoulder with his meaty hand. "See, I told you to trust your Uncle William's judgment! Don't believe these pretty boys who are all show and no substance."

Norn remained expressionless, but inside, he was crying and rolling on the ground. "It's over! It's over! It's over! I'm going to end up with nothing but hard black bread!"

"No, it didn't miss," Padrick said, his eyes sharp.

The blue knight's hand trembled, trying to remove his helmet, but it fell limply. His armored body collapsed to the ground like a mountain.

A page rushed to help the blue knight, but it was in vain.

The cloak covering the lower part of the helmet was lifted, revealing a massive dent.

The red knight's lance had struck the blue knight's throat, knocking him out.

The once-cheering arena fell silent. Everyone seemed stunned, as if their souls had been sucked out.

Norn sensed something was wrong. He saw William's hand frozen mid-air, looking as if he had swallowed a fly.

"What's going on? Does hitting the head count as a score?"

"Knocking the opponent off the horse scores five points," Padrick said, narrowing his eyes. "And he'll also get the loser's horse."