Under the Oak Tree

Chapter 440: Chapter 201

“I heard Lord Breston’s son has already expressed his intention to compete.”

As Maxi descended a flight of stairs, flanked by her guards, this snippet of conversation reached her from the direction of the pavilion. Intrigued, she paused to listen.

“What of the Remdragon Knights? Surely, Sir Riftan is entering as well.”

“Of course! He was the first to declare his participation. His entry alone has caused many lesser contenders to withdraw.”

A young lady from Wedon leaped up from her seat, her voice brimming with admiration. “Without Sir Riftan, the tournament might have dragged on till next year. 1 bet the other participants already see him as Ascalon’s new master.”

“That’s not a certainty,” a fair-haired noblewoman, likely from the North, interjected with a smirk. “The commander of the Knights of Phil Aaron is said to be an even greater warrior than his father, Sir Geyhart Breston. And we cannot forget Sir Sejuleu Aren of the Bolose Royal Knights.”

This elicited a loud snort from Riftan’s admirer. “Sir Sejuleu has already lost to Sir Riftan! And Sir Richard Breston has not even been honored with the title of Wigrew’s reincarnation.”

“You seem to be misinformed. Rosem Wigrew’s name is given to knights who have made great contributions to the peace of the Seven Kingdoms. Having the title does not equate to being the greatest knight.”

“Goodness, I believe it is you who is misinformed. To become Rosem Wigrew, one needs a meritorious deed recognized by all and must demonstrate remarkable capabilities! No knight can claim the title of Wigrew’s reincarnation without the recognition of his peers.”

“Even so, the title does not make someone the strongest knight. Sir Richard may not have earned distinction from the Council yet, but when it comes to swordsmanship alone, it’s hard to say—”

Having listened silently, Maxi suddenly turned and walked away. The chatter of Balto’s nobles, rooting for their kingdom’s knight, only fueled her anxiety.

She circled the palace, heading to the annex where the knights were lodged. In a vacant lot in front of the building, the younger members sparred with wooden swords. After glancing around, Maxi swiftly crossed the lot toward the Remdragon Knights, who were congregated by the kitchen.

Ulyseon was the first to notice her, exclaiming cheerfully, “My lady!”

This drew a multitude of eyes to Maxi. Ignoring the curious stares, she approached the knights and, without any formalities, asked impatiently, “Where is Riftan?”

Gabel frowned slightly and responded as he oiled his sword. “He is with His Majesty again. Apparently, he was taken aback by the pope’s announcement and summoned the commander early this morning to reprimand him. He was quite upset that Sir Riftan joined the tournament without his consent.”

Though Maxi had rushed there to chide him for the same reason, she was perturbed to learn that King Reuben had been scolding him.

“Is the king opposed to Riftan competing in the tournament?”

Gabel shrugged. “His Majesty believes it is too risky. If Wedon’s champion loses to a knight from another kingdom, it could tarnish his own reputation.”

“His Majesty worries too much,” Ulyseon remarked with a smirk, sliding his wooden sword into his belt. “No one can beat Sir Riftan. Ascalon might as well be his already.”

“It is not that simple.”

Maxi whipped her head about at the sudden voice and saw Ruth emerging from the annex.

“Winning the tournament is a problem in itself,” the sorcerer stated grimly. “There is no guarantee that Sir Riftan’s touch will restore Ascalon. If the sword remains dormant, the spectators will no doubt be disappointed. The opponents of the armistice will use it to argue that Sir Riftan isn’t fit to be Ascalon’s bearer, damaging his reputation.”

“Isn’t that a bit pessimistic? Even if the sword isn’t restored, being bestowed with a holy relic is a great honor,” Gabel pointed out.

Ruth, pressing the bridge of his nose in frustration, countered, “What good is a flawed artifact? The master of the holy sword must pass God’s test. People are interested in whether the sword will be made whole again. If it doesn’t, they will conclude that Sir Riftan wasn’t chosen by God. That could undermine his support for the armistice!”

The sorcerer paused, gritting his teeth. “The pope has forced Sir Riftan into an incredibly risky gamble!”

Maxi’s face fell. She had only been worried for Riftan’s safety; she had not considered the tournament’s aftermath.

Clutching at his disheveled hair in irritation, Ruth added, “The king is probably giving Sir Riftan several options as we speak. He can either withdraw and let someone else take the risk, or he can win and try his luck.”

Ursuline broke his silence to retort, “That’s absurd! Withdrawing now is out of the question. Richard Breston has already entered the tournament. If the commander withdraws now, it will look like he is fleeing.”

Ruth narrowed his eyes at the knight’s adamant face before exhaling deeply. “I doubt Sir Riftan will back down now,” he conceded, scratching his head roughly. “His best bet is to win and then return the sword to the pope. People might think he is avoiding the test, but he will keep his reputation as the greatest knight on the continent, and his support for the armistice will still hold sway.”

Ulyseon furrowed his brow in bafflement. “What makes you so certain Ascalon won’t be restored? If the sword accepts Sir Riftan, it will earn him universal praise, which would further strengthen the peace agreement.”

“It’s this kind of baseless expectation that’s the problem!” Ruth exclaimed, his face flushing with frustration at Ulyseon’s optimism. “Sir Riftan has already saved the Roviden Continent from numerous crises. Why must he prove himself again in front of everyone? Do not make him shoulder such a burden.”

Ulyseon winced, sealing his lips shut. After casting a warning glance at the knights, Ruth strode away. Maxi hurried after him.

“Why did Riftan decide to compete?” she asked. “From what you said… it seems he has nothing to gain and much to lose.”

“He likely didn’t want Ascalon to fall into the hands of the opposition,” Ruth explained. “It’s one thing if Sir Sejuleu wins it, but if Richard Breston claims the sword, all our efforts might be undone.”

“Do you mean Richard Breston… could defeat Sir Sejuleu?” Maxi asked, her expression turning bleak.

“In pure combat skill, they are nearly equal.”

Maxi’s eyes widened. Though she had witnessed the northerner’s prowess in battle, she had not imagined him a match for Wigrew’s reincarnations.

“The Baltonians inherited the strength of the ancient giants,” Ruth said with a sigh. “The House of Breston, with their strong seraphim lineage, is particularly formidable. In sheer strength, he would not be defeated by any of Wigrew’s reincarnations.”

“B-But…!” Maxi cried out, struggling to accept this. “Hasn’t Riftan been able to subdue that beastly man many times?”

“That’s because Sir Riftan’s skills surpass even the reincarnations,” Ruth replied flatly. “With Sir Riftan being well aware of this, he must have felt his involvement was crucial to prevent the worst-case scenario.”

Despite Ruth’s confidence in Riftan’s victory, Maxi could not shake her worry. Richard Breston would surely come at her husband with everything he had. The image of the northerner swinging a massive sword in one hand made her shiver.

What if Riftan got injured despite his skills? Her husband faced a veritable beast in human clothing, one capable of resorting to underhanded tactics.

Anxiously gnawing her lip, Maxi put a stop to her spiraling thoughts. A tournament was not a battlefield. Riftan would receive prompt treatment if he were to get injured. The true challenge, as Ruth had pointed out, lay in the aftermath. The disappointment in the stadium would be palpable if Riftan returned Ascalon to the pope untouched.

But if he were to touch it…

Maxi bit her lip. The truth was, she was more afraid of the sword becoming whole..