In the 10th year of the Korendo calendar, in Count Cleon's territory in the Eastern Province of the Correndo Kingdom, a tournament was being held in an arena.
It had reached the sixth round—the finals. On one side stood Zeru, a battle-hardened veteran who had returned victorious from many battles against Centaurs.
On the other was Harrot, a rising star who had won five consecutive tournament championships at the tender age of fifteen!
The spectators murmured among themselves. "Why is it this kid again? He's been in the finals every month for half a year straight. Is this rigged? I heard he has an unusual relationship with Count Cleon!"
"Probably not. I watched several of those finals. He really is strong. With the noble lords and Knights not participating, nobody's a match for him!"
"Ugh, no one's even opening bets anymore. Everyone's betting on Harrot. When is this guy going to leave?"
The spectators complained bitterly, but the two contestants below paid them no mind.
"Harrot, right? I remember your father. I fought alongside him on the battlefield. He was the bravest Knight I'd ever seen!"
Harrot said, "My father is my pride, but I'll surpass him someday! Draw your sword!" The two sides in arena matches were merely testing their martial skill, not fighting to the death. They usually exchanged a few words before fighting to show goodwill.
They drew their wooden greatswords and began exchanging blows. Harrot was only fifteen. Though he had been well fed, he had not fully developed yet. He was at a disadvantage in both strength and speed, and he was half a head shorter as well.
What was more, his opponent was an ultimate veteran who had trained diligently and fought desperately for twenty years. His technique and experience were exceptionally refined, and