After receiving the armor I ordered from Mikken, I headed towards the arena.
"Aermir, wait for me!"
As I turned around, Robb and Jon were running toward me. When they reached me, Jon saw the jingling sack in my hand and said...
"Are you really going to participate in the martial arts tournament?"
"Yes."
"Are you crazy? We know you're strong, and you've defeated many bandits, but do you really think fighting a knight is the same as fighting a bandit?"
I said with a smile.
"Of course not, that would be much more interesting. I think the battles would be more competitive. If I'm the strongest, there's no point in fighting them."
Robb lowered his head dejectedly and said...
"You are becoming more and more powerful than us. I can't even do half of what you have done, how can I become your lord?"
"As you said, what you need to be is a lord, not a warrior. Your understanding of governance is far more important than your understanding of combat. It's important that you can protect yourself and know how to lead an army, but your most important responsibility is to hand over the North to your children in a better-governed North than when you took it from your father."
I turned to Jon and said.
"As for you, if you want to become a brother of the Night's Watch, you need to improve your swordsmanship and scouting. Now let me have some fun and see how far I can go with just a sword."
Squires and commoners must first qualify for the main tournament. Not everyone has the right to go to the arena and fight alongside the knights. There are about 30 squires and 15 commoners in the qualifying rounds, and only 10 of us can participate in the main tournament.
To participate in the tournament, commoners must donate ten silver deer, knights must donate one gold dragon, and noble knights must donate ten gold dragons. In this way, those who lack security and ability will not waste everyone's time by participating in the tournament.
Most of the squires were from House Stark, but there were also about a dozen who had come with knights from other lords. As soon as I donned the armor and entered the area, whispers began to circulate. The Mikken had taken 17 golden dragons from me for this armor. I think I've been ripped off, but it's my first decent set of knightly armor, and I like its effect, so I bought it. When I checked everyone's stats, the strongest had 7.5 strength and 7.8 speed.
I walked to the center of the battle area and raised my voice with magic.
"Let's not waste each other's time. Is anyone here willing to fight me?"
They started arguing with each other.
Who is this arrogant brat?
One of them stood up and was about to walk toward me. "A House Stark servant grabbed his arm and said."
"Do you want to die? Do you know who you're fighting? He's the Calamity'!"
The attendant who had stood up instantly took a step back, hesitating whether to step into the combat zone. Then he sat back down; no one else stood up. I turned to the knights who were waiting for us and spoke.
"None of them challenged me. Does that mean I passed the qualifiers?"
He said this while scratching the back of his head.
"Yes, we can do that."
He turned to the other contestants and spoke.
"I'll ask one last time. Is there anyone among you who wants to fight Aermir Drasil? If so, he's the first one who deserves it."
I always wore my armor belts a little loosely so I could activate the Quersumby ( Oak Shield ) spell from underneath. This provided extra defense and also cushioned the impact of blunt force trauma. After the preliminary rounds, the real tournament began in the afternoon, and my first opponent was a familiar face.
Hugo Moss, that bastard who's been giving me a good beating. He's gotten stronger, but still not as good as me. His strength is 8.2, and his speed is 7.7, especially his speed. He's slower than me; I have 9.2 speed. I used up all my Buff. As our ancestors said, "You reap what you sow," he will reap the storm he planted.
As soon as the signal to begin the battle was given, I charged at him at top speed. Caught off guard, he was slightly surprised and his sword swing was a little slow. His sword pierced my right arm, but thanks to my armor and armor magic, I could barely feel his attack.
He couldn't hold me off, so I kept charging. I slammed my shoulder into him, sending him flying two or three meters backward. I felt like an unstoppable tank. He was dazed and couldn't get up immediately. I slowly walked towards him, grabbed his right foot, spun him around, and threw him like a sack of potatoes. He crashed into the wooden wall, groaned on the ground, and couldn't get up. I approached him and spoke in a voice only those very close could hear.
"You are not worthy of my sword."
The battle lasted less than a minute. The audience was stunned and didn't know how to react for a moment. A few seconds later, the silence gave way to deafening cheers.
"I can hear King Robert's thunderous laughter," he said.
"That's exactly the kind of warrior I like, haha!"
People entered the arena and took him away. I bowed to the king and lord, then left the arena as well. An hour later, the second round of the competition began, and in this round I encountered an acquaintance— Wayland Flint. He had been knighted a few years ago and currently possessed 7.5 strength and 8.2 speed.