Chapter 177 - Episode 171: Commemorative Festival ②
There is a competition widely known in the Kingdom of Roadberg called Le Gimli.
The rules are simple: "Two people begin the fight standing; victory is achieved by forcing the opponent's back, chest, or face to touch the ground." Weapons cannot be used, but any fighting style is permitted as long as the opponent is not killed or seriously injured.
Originally, it was a competition popular among dwarves, and it is now held in various settings throughout the kingdom—as a children's game, as a subject for adult gambling, and as part of military training.
Consequently, it has become a staple as entertainment for festivals.
"And now, we shall begin the Le Gimli Tournament of the Arqvist Territory Pioneer Commemoration Festival!"
The one who made this declaration in the plaza was a single territorial soldier serving as the moderator. Since the combat-class retainers had all moved to the side of the Le Gimli tournament participants, soldiers who were free had been taking turns as masters of ceremonies.
Upon the soldier's declaration, the territorial residents gathered in the plaza grew excited. As it was past two in the afternoon and the festival had entered its second half, everyone was in high spirits, fueled by alcohol.
There were 64 participants in total. Aside from the combat-class retainers, slots were allocated to the territorial army, commoners, and slaves according to their respective statuses, and who would participate was decided through discussions and qualifiers. The tournament would proceed in a bracket format, and the winner was scheduled to receive a monetary prize from the Lord, Noein.
Every participant was fully fired up, and the territorial soldiers, in particular, had an unnervingly glinting look in their eyes. This was because placing in the top ranks would not only promise promotion within the military, but there was also the hope that they might be favored by the Lord and appointed as retainers.
"Come on, those of you joining the bets, hurry up and decide who you're aiming for! The most popular is Retainer Commander Yuri-sama, followed by Radley-sama. For a long shot, Kenooze-sama is a good target!"
Walking among the spectators and boldly collecting money while saying this was a young territorial soldier.
Reasoning that people would indulge in gambling anyway even if it were forbidden, Noein himself had organized the gambling for predicting the winner.
By doing this, he could prevent fights from breaking out over wins and losses in private gambling, and as the house, he could reliably make a profit, allowing him to slightly increase the territory's budget.
That Noein was watching the tournament from a special seat on the podium where he had given his speech in the morning, together with Matilda and Clara.
"No matter how much of a long shot Kenooze is, betting on him is honestly reckless... I think Yuri will probably just win."
As his mutterings suggested, Noein had personally bet about 100 Rebro on Yuri.
"I think so too. Perhaps the only other person with a chance of winning is Radley-sama."
"As I thought, those two are exceptionally strong... I wonder if it's tough for Pence-san, whom I bet on."
Matilda nodded to Noein, while Clara, who had bet on Pence on a whim, replied while tilting her head slightly.
"I suppose so. Pence is normally strong, but he's the Retainer Vice-Commander taking into account various other practical administrative abilities... In terms of simple combat power, I think Radley is several steps ahead."
While they were talking, the matches finally began. Until the third round, matches were scheduled to proceed simultaneously at four locations in the plaza.
...
One of the pairings for the first match was Retainer Bart and the mining engineer Victor.
"Victor-san! Show them the pride of the Merchant Guild!"
Victor was cheered on by Dmitri the carpenter, who was completely wasted on alcohol, and Philip the appointed merchant, who gave a strained smile beside him. Facing Victor, Bart was preparing for the fight by rotating his neck, shoulders, and wrists.
"Do your best, Bart-san! Amanda is watching too!"
The one shouting from behind Bart was his wife, Michelle. In her arms, she held their daughter Amanda, born last year.
Because Bart was handsome and affable, he was popular among the female residents, and several young girls were letting out high-pitched cheers around Michelle.
"Thanks, everyone! Michelle, Amanda, I love you!"
Waving to the women cheering for him and showing off by sending blown kisses to his beloved wife and daughter, Bart fired himself up internally.
Recently, Bart had been primarily in a position like a diplomat, but he had once placed himself in the midst of battle as a mercenary. He wanted to show that he could still fight sufficiently even now. Above all, as a man, he wanted to show his best side to his wife.
With the soldier acting as referee between them, Bart faced Victor.
"I look forward to this, Victor-san."
"Yes, please go easy on me."
The two exchanged brief greetings and clashed—to put it simply, Bart lost.
He held out for about thirty seconds. It could be said that he fought well. Utilizing his slender build to move lightly, he kept his distance from Victor while looking for an opening... then, suddenly, Victor closed in with a sharp step unimaginable from his stout physique, grabbed Bart's waist, and before he knew it, Bart was lying on his back.
"...Ah, well."
Bart let out a sigh while staring up at the sky.
"Hey now, losing in the first round!"
"Gyahahaha! That's pathetic, Bart!"
"Shut up... I'm weak compared to you guys anyway!"
The jeers thrown were from Pence and a high-spirited, drunken Radley. Bart fired back while still rolling on his back, especially at Radley's unrestrained way of speaking.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, thanks... You're strong, aren't you."
Bart stood up while thanking Victor, who had extended a hand.
"I am a dwarf, after all. When I was a child, I spent all my time on Le Gimli. Besides, depending on the location, monsters appear in the mines. Before I became a full-fledged mining engineer, I also went monster hunting as a chore... I haven't fought directly for about twenty years, but once you learn a way of fighting, you don't forget it easily."
At Victor's explanation, delivered in a polite tone that remained mismatched with his appearance, Bart was convinced.
Though not as much as elves, dwarves are also a long-lived race, and he had heard that Victor was over eighty years old. Considering what he just said, he had accumulated about fifty years of combat experience. From his perspective, someone like Bart was likely like a child.
"I see... Then it's no wonder I couldn't win."
Bart had pride in being able to fight better than average, but he wasn't particularly a master.
"No, no, Bart-san was very strong. If I hadn't regained my combat instincts, I surely would have lost."
"Hahaha... Well, if you say so."
Responding with a strained smile to Victor, who said this whether out of sincerity or consolation, Bart returned to his wife and daughter, feeling a bit discouraged.
...
"Do your best, Boreas-san! Show them the power of us beastmen!"
"I bet on you! I'm counting on you!"
Even as such cheers were thrown at him by the beastman residents, Boreas's expression was gloomy.
"Sigh... Why am I the representative? Even though I'm bad at fighting."
Boreas had a large build and a fierce face befitting the lion-man race, but his personality was extremely gentle. He had participated in the war the year before last only because it was necessary to survive; originally, he did not like fighting.
Before he knew it, he had been pushed into this tournament in the position of beastman representative, and by extension, farmer representative, but his true feeling was that he wished to be spared from punching someone, even if it was a competition.
"Well, isn't it fine? This is also the job of a figurehead for the beastmen. If you contribute to the excitement of the tournament, the friendship between humans and beastmen will deepen further."
The one saying such serious things even at a time like this was Retainer Edgar, who oversaw agriculture in the territory. For Boreas, the figurehead of the beastman farmers, he was the boss he interacted with most routinely.
"That's right. Regardless of personality, Boreas-san is strong, so if things go well, even if winning is impossible, couldn't you make it quite far?"
The one who continued beside Edgar was Kenooze, who had been defeated early in the first round, crushing the dreams of the gamblers aiming for a long shot.
"Kenooze, you're talking so casually just because your turn is over... And Edgar-san isn't even participating in the first place. Despite being a retainer."
"It wouldn't have helped if I entered, would it? I was born into the village head's family, so I received some combat training... but there's no way I could match professional soldiers. Besides, retainers inevitably draw a line between themselves and general commoners. The farmers will be happier if you struggle than if I do."
"...I suppose so."
Exhaling as if giving up, Boreas faced his opponent—Retainer Rick.
"You're the... figurehead of the beastmen, right. I heard you served Noein-sama in the war the year before last."
"Yes, that's correct. And you are a retainer belonging to the territorial army. I heard you're a master of the bow and crossbow."
Boreas had heard from Kenooze, a fellow retainer, that Rick was a soldier excelled in shooting. He thought that if projectile weapons were his specialty, he might be bad at close-quarters combat, and that he might be able to win.
"Yeah, that's right. Well, nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you."
The two exchanged greetings and tightened their expressions. Boreas decided that since he had come this far, he had no choice but to do as much as he could.
With the signal to start the match, Boreas charged at Rick—and that momentum was easily deflected, and he was thrown into the air like a shoulder throw.
"Uwaaaa, I can't win at alllll!"
Boreas soared with a pathetic scream that didn't match his appearance.
"Uoooooh!"
"Amazing! He threw a lion-man!"
The spectators watching the scene went wild. Rick was on the larger side among humans, but since he had thrown Boreas, a lion-man who was a size larger, it was only natural.
"...Phew. I am an officer of the territorial army, after all. My weapons are the crossbow and ballista, but I've acquired white-combat techniques more than the average person."
Rick spoke in a light tone, not particularly boasting of his victory, to Boreas, who was lying on the ground after falling on his back. Despite the difference in physique, it seemed he had not the slightest intention of losing to a farmer.
"...I really shouldn't do things that don't suit me."
In terms of exciting the tournament, Boreas had fulfilled his role, but he suffered a regrettable defeat, failing to become the star of hope for the beastman farmers.