TMKM 07

Chapter 7

“What if you lose?”

“If I lose….”

Lanram, who had remained silent as if she had no mouth at all, suddenly asked the question. The man continued with an interested look on his face.

“I’ll give today’s glass rose to you. No matter which of those two wins, I’ll be the champion anyway.”

The man looked at the horses returning to their starting positions.

Whether it was confidence based on solid grounds or just empty boasting, his attitude was certainly worthy of a champion. He did not seem entirely frivolous, either, so Lanram began to think that he might actually be able to do what he claimed.

In that case, Lanram thought, there was nothing for her to lose in this bet.

If she could go on a date with a man from Loudhill regardless of the result, it sounded like it would be quite an interesting experience.

‘And I could find out if what they say about it being big and sturdy is actually true.’

A trumpet blast pulled Lanram out of her lewd imagination.

The match was about to begin its second clash. The horses stamped their feet as the gleaming spearheads quickly drew closer. Xylus extended his arm slightly faster than Chyroneia.

Sharp screams erupted from the spectators watching the match.

The accident happened in an instant.

Xylus’s spear struck the neck of the mountain horse instead of Chyroneia’s shield or armor.

There was no time to determine whether it had been an accident or intentional. The mountain horse, enraged after being pierced by the metal spearhead, snorted violently and raised its front legs high.

Startled, the horse broke away from the assigned track and began running wildly in every direction.

It was the beginning of a full-scale rampage.

The smile vanished from Kanne’s face. The man suddenly became serious, as if he had never been the one making silly jokes just moments ago, and rushed forward.

He was not the only one. Men came pouring out of the tent as well.

“Chyro!”

The knights ran while shouting Chyroneia’s name. The knight seemed to barely hold on while gripping the reins, but in the end, he could not withstand it and fell off.

Fortunately, he managed to roll his body out of the way and avoid the horse’s hooves.

Freed from its rider, the horse became even more agitated and tore through the courtyard in front of Salt Castle.

Some people were busy trying to get out of the way, while others ran after the horse to catch it. The spectators were also thrown into confusion, constantly murmuring among themselves.

At one point, the horse tried to jump over the wooden fence, and the people nearby screamed in terror.

Even the audience, who had thought they were in a safe area, felt threatened. Those standing near the fence backed away.

Some fell down. Others were trampled.

The entire area turned into complete chaos in an instant.

One horse had thrown countless people into confusion.

The frightened horse had to be left alone until it calmed down on its own. By the time it finally settled down and placed all four hooves firmly on the ground, several people had already been badly injured, trampled either by hooves or by other people’s feet.

One groom who had been struck by the horse’s hind legs at the height of its frenzy had lost consciousness.

He did not regain consciousness, and from a distance, it was impossible to tell whether he was alive or dead.

The man was soon carried away on something resembling a stretcher, while the other seriously injured people were carried away on the backs of the security soldiers.

Because she had not been sitting in a good seat, Lanram had actually managed to avoid being hurt. She watched the situation without even remembering to breathe.

Only when the mountain horse’s reins were finally secured did she breathe a sigh of relief and pat her chest.

The disturbance had finally ended, but the jousting grounds had already been reduced to ruins.

Once the situation had settled down to some extent, the organizers held an emergency meeting.

Naturally, the central figures were the Lord of Salt Castle, the Pig Princess, and her younger brother, the Crown Prince.

“What did they say?”

After returning from the brief mediation that had lasted about twenty minutes, the man was followed by several Iron Horse Knights.

The man’s name was Louis. He had a brown beard that was beginning to show streaks of gray.

“First of all, Chyroneia has lost by withdrawal. His leg is injured, and he is no longer in a condition to continue the match.”

A series of disappointed sighs spread through the barracks.

Louis, who was delivering the news, did not look happy about it either.

Chyroneia, who had every reason to be the most bitter of them all, remained silent with a frustrated expression as a poultice was being applied to his injured leg.

“Then what about that Garding Knight? Was he disqualified?”

Someone said that they would not be satisfied unless that was what happened.

But Louis shook his head with a heavy expression.

The knights broke into a chorus of anger and condemnation.

“That makes no sense. How can they do this?”

“That bastard definitely did it on purpose. There’s no doubt it was intentional! Isn’t that right, Chyro?”

Unlike the older men, who were able to remain relatively calm, the younger knights were too emotional to contain their anger.

They added their voices to the growing outrage and even grabbed hold of Duke Paroa to complain to him.

“Captain, can’t you go over there and say something to them yourself?”

But before the man had a chance to answer, Louis spoke again.

He still had more to say.

“There is one more piece of bad news for our knights….”

Louis trailed off with an embarrassed expression.

The man inside the iron armor motioned with his chin, telling him to go on.

Louis hesitated for a long while with a troubled look before finally revealing the bad news.

“They’ve banned our mountain horses from participating in the rest of the matches….”

“What?

What did you say?”

That was certainly far more shocking than the fact that Xylus had not lost his chance to advance in the tournament.

For the Iron Horse Knights, whose strong mountain horses were both their symbol and their pride, this was bound to feel deeply unfair.

“What are we supposed to do without our horses?”

“The Lord of Salt Castle said he would lend us some of the horses he has left.”

“Some horses he has left? Are they even military horses?”

“Why should we give up our own horses in the first place?”

To a knight, a warhorse was like an extension of his own body.

More important than a sword or a shield was a horse that could move as naturally as his own body.

Even when running, wearing someone else’s shoes would make a person uncomfortable and awkward enough to keep them from performing at their best.

Having their familiar height and speed taken away from them naturally meant they would be at a disadvantage in the competition.

“So basically, it’s a kind of foul play.”

“What do you mean, foul play? What that Xylus bastard did was foul play.”

“Honestly, it’s true that stabbing upward from below would be difficult. A normal horse is smaller than ours.”

As the Iron Horse Knights argued and grumbled over the organizers’ decision, Louis joined in as if that was exactly the point.

“That Garding Knight made precisely that argument. He said that if it had been an ordinary horse, the rider would have been at that height, so an accident like this would never have happened.”

“Hah! He sure knows how to talk with that mouth of his.”

The knights, who had suddenly been forced to continue the uncertain competition on unfamiliar horses, grumbled in dissatisfaction.

It seemed to wound their pride as well, having come all this way only to be treated like this.

“Will you stop complaining? If your whining gets out, people will laugh at the Iron Horse Knights and say, ‘Is that really all those knights are capable of?’”

An older and more mature knight who was not participating in the competition scolded them.

But the younger knights did not take his reprimand quietly. Instead, their resentment only seemed to grow.

Then Duke Paroa, who had been silently listening, finally spoke.

“Don’t scold the boys, Kyung.”

The results of the competition did not matter much to him.

But he could not simply stand by and watch the pride of those who trusted and followed him be damaged.

“It’s my fault. They’re protesting against me.”

The man brought up something that was not immediately easy to understand.

His gruff voice sounded even colder inside the cold iron can.

“They asked me to send them some useful stallions again, and I refused.”

The man rose from his seat and took a step toward the sunlight.

In the distance, he could see the Pig Princess and the Pig Prince sitting in the VIP section—the siblings of the Jeroli royal family.

They had always been greedy for one thing or another since they were young, always asking for something and wanting something else.

These days, the thing the Crown Prince wanted most from him was Loudhill’s mountain horses.

The mountain horses, found nowhere else in Bigland, had long been an animal that symbolized House Paroa.

They were also an essential weapon for forming the Iron Horse Knights, known as the strongest army in Bigland.

In other words, they were a valuable military asset.

Naturally, Nick had no desire to easily hand over something that set their territory apart from all the others and gave them something to be proud of.

Whenever someone subtly expressed interest in their horses and proposed a trade, Nick rejected them every time.

His father had done the same.

His grandfather had done the same.

And his grandfather’s grandfather had done the same.

The royal family was no exception.