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The cheers and respect for Leonberg had already been loudly pronounced. Because of this, I didn’t understand why the knights were talking about the best knight in the north, or whatever – in short, why they were shouting such strange things.

So, I looked into the faces of Leonberg’s knights. Their gazes shifted to me and then rolled to the Teutonic Knights. They repeated this action of the eyes many times before looking squarely at me. They had shifted their eyes with such self-assured expressions that I had to laugh.

I understood; Leonberg’s knights were instinctively resentful toward the Teutons, who had exuded arrogance while looking down upon Leonberg. Realizing this, I decided that this was as far as it would go.

“Now stop,” I said after a while, stopping the knights’ cheers after their resentment had cooled down a bit. “The contest has already ended. There is no need to keep reminding them of their defeat.”

Bernardo Eli looked at me with a disappointed face. His eyes seemed to ask me if this wasn’t what I would do, I who had mocked countless of my opponents who had already been broken.

As always, I pointedly ignored Eli’s question. I then glanced at the Teutons.

The number one knight in the west was still unconscious and was being dragged away by his knights. The rest of the Rosethorns, almost none of them intact, were limping away from the dojo as they followed Duncan.

All who remained was Teuton’s princess. She looked at me with a gaze I could not read. When our eyes met, she quickly looked down and departed from the dojo.

“Let’s go back.”

I also had nothing to do at the training field, so I left.

* * *

After checking on Adelia’s progress, I returned to bed and fell asleep when the morning sun had completely risen. When I opened my eyes again, the sun was already in the middle of the sky. Soon after waking up, Eli and Arwen came to me.

“So, why the hell did you show him any mercy?” Eli asked with a baffled face. “I thought your Highness would at least take an arm.”

Arwen didn’t say anything, but she seemed to sympathize with what Eli said.

“I forced greater shame on him than death itself. Wouldn’t it be excessive if I had cut off one of his arms?” I replied, and Eli responded immediately.

“That’s why I ask. If your Highness had acted as you normally do, you would have severed an arm and shamed him even more.”

I nodded at Eli’s words and frowned, thinking how the hell he thought that that would be a usual thing for me to do.

“When the Warlord died, his limbs were amputated, and his head mounted on Winter Castle’s wall. All the enemies your Highness have dealt with have gone through that kind of thing, but your Highness wants to say this case isn’t the same?”

I tried to speak up after listening to Eli; I wanted to convince him. But I struggled to find the words, and when I said nothing, Eli asked me again. “What wind on this earth blew that made your Highness show mercy to the Duke of Teuton?”

Eli was frowning when I replied in a dismayed voice.

“If he had done at least one shallow trick, I might have done what you said I had to.”

The man had halted his Aura Blade at the last moment. If Duke Duncan Seymour had wanted to exploit his advantage, he could’ve done it. However, he did not act dishonorably in that moment. If he had completed his attack with an Aura Blade that wouldn’t have hurt my body anyway, things might have gone differently for him. And at the end of the contest, even when Duncan’s fighting spirit had been broken, he still stepped up every time and faced me in battle.

I would not have thought much about it under normal circumstances, but at that time, the resolve Eli had shown in his own struggle had not been erased from my mind. The determination of Eli, who was unable to avoid being beaten back when he faced a Master of mana rings, felt no different to me than Duncan’s resolve to test my sword again and again.

That was why I had kept the duke’s limbs intact.

“What is your Highness saying-”

“We’re done. I’m not going to explain myself further.”

Even if I were to die today, I wouldn’t want to tell Eli the truth. So, I finished the story at that juncture. Eli seemed to have many questions he wanted to ask, but then his eyes flashed as if he had thought of a more important matter.

“Please give it to me.”

“What?”

“None of the others have won more times than me,” Eli blurted out.

I glanced at Arwen to see if his bullshit was true.

“I won four times. Sir Quéon – four times. The others did not get more than three wins. Other than that, the Teutonic Master who was defeated by Sir Adelia, claimed four victories. And Bernardo Eli won five times.”

Eli’s face became more enthusiastic as he heard Arwen’s words.

I picked up the dwarven sword I had kept in the corner of the room while I stared at him. I then offered Eli his sword.

“Uh?” Eli looked at me with a stupid face as I showed him the sword. I decided that he believed it to be such a precious gift that it was wasted on him. So, I pulled the sword back toward me, holding onto it.

“What are you doing, Eli? Not taking the sword – do you hate receiving gifts?”

“Who’s not taking it?” he said in an angry tone as I pretended to keep his sword, and he reached out his hand. Eli snapped the sword from my grasp. As if having stolen a treasure, Eli wrapped both of his arms around the sword as if I would take it from him and drooped his head to study it.

I gave a last glance at Eli and walked toward one side of the room, the side with the chest full of dwarven weapons. I then selected a sword from the chest and picked it up. It was a very beautiful sword with a roaring lion forming the end of its hilt.

It was also a masterpiece among masterpieces forged with great care by meisters. I looked at the sword and turned to Arwen, smiling happily.

“Arwen.”

“Yes, your Highness?”

“Receive.”

“Yes, your Highness,” Arwen said, looking at Eli with a somewhat regretful face, then turned to me. When she saw the sword in my hands, her eyes stretched wide.

“It’s your sword.”

Arwen shook her head, studying the sword’s form as if possessed.

“I haven’t claimed the most victories like Bernardo Eli – I haven’t done anything to be given such a precious dwarven sword.”

She repeatedly refused, saying that undeserving people couldn’t receive such treasures, and Arwen said it all in a sad tone.

“I originally brought these swords here intending to give them as gifts to you champions, so don’t refuse it.”

I tapped the roaring lion forged into the handle with my fingertips, and Arwen’s eyes stretched even wider. She still showed no signs of accepting the sword, however.

“Tcha,” I clucked my tongue and bent forward. I immediately unsheathed the sword buckled to Arwen’s waist, and began to slide the meister-forged sword into its place.

“Your Highness! This- What is this!”

“Please stand still.”

I managed to stop the frightened Arwen from pulling back from me and started to focus on what I was doing, but it proved more difficult than I thought, so I took my time.

“Because Adelia always does it, I forgot how to properly sheathe it into its scabbard.”

“Your Highness! Why are you doing this! Please take your hands away!”

Even while I was struggling, Arwen tried to hold me back, her face blushing red.

“Stop talking. I’m concentrating.”

Whether Arwen heard me or not, I ignored her, being eager to insert the sword into its sheath buckled around her waist.

“Oh, that’s it now.”

It’s was only when her restless hips stopped moving that I managed to fill Arwen’s scabbard with the new sword. I straightened my back.

“That’s right. As expected, the dwarves have a good eye for this sort of thing.”

The sword matched well with Arwen’s scabbard, her original scabbard at that.

“Well, your Highness-”

I gave a satisfied laugh as I watched Arwen and her blushing face retreat from me, with her not even thinking about touching the sword. I then glanced at Eli. The unexpected situation rendered him fish-eyed.

“I’m a champion too!” he finally shouted. His face was filled with resentment as he cried this out. He had struggled to gain his victory and was given a sword, but had now watched someone get a new sword to grace her hips with her having no intention of accepting it.

“You said they are for the champions of Leonberg, so of course there is one for me, right?” Eli asked as he met my gaze, swallowing as he tried to correct his expression. I noticed that his gaze became nailed on the ornamented lion hilt specially crafted by a meister.

“One per person.”

“This one is the reward I got for fighting!”

“Uh huh. Congratulations. You fought really well.”

“Well, do I get one then?”

“You received congratulations. You received a sword. I think we’re done.”

“Didn’t you say that there are swords specially prepared for us champions?” Bernardo Eli protested, stuck on the same question.

“I have the generous heart of a gift-giver, and you have your gift.”

Eli groaned and was left speechless by my impudent words.

“Well, your Highness, please take this sword back now,” Arwen begged.

Instead of answering her words, I gave a stern look at Eli, asking him if he wanted to make Arwen uncomfortable. When Eli heard me mention Arwen, he groaned and put up no further protest. It was only after I thoroughly enjoyed Eli’s defeated appearance that I gave him the sword the meisters had forged for him. Of course, I first recovered the other sword I had given him.

“I’ll give you something else instead of the sword as reward for your contest victory, Eli.”

“If it’s something else… Armor?”

When I nodded, Eli broke into a broad, wild grin. However, his mirth lasted only a while, and the smile on his face hardened into a grimace. Then Eli’s eyes narrowed as he asked me, “Does that mean that you are giving all the champions armor?”

I didn’t answer him.

“Your Highness!” Eli cried as he jumped up, and he then whined for a long time.

“I will take care of it.”

He eventually shut his mouth, but that was only after I promised that he would receive a separate dwarf-forged shield. After I had barely managed to shut Eli up, I asked Arwen what the messenger who had come to the door wanted.

“Your Highness, the leaders of the kingdom have long been waiting for your Highness to wake up.”

* * *

I went straight to the conference hall.

Marshal Bielefeld, Maximilian, Siorin, and the other leaders of the kingdom were waiting for me.

“Your Highness.”

“Brother.”

After exchanging greetings, I placed my hands on the conference table.

“What are the Teutons doing?”

Siorin gave me a summary of the Teuton’s actions. Duncan Seymour Tudor was resting in his room, taking no food or drink, and Siorin said the other knights were busy healing the wounds they had suffered the day before.

“Only the Princess of Teuton has sent people to ask if your Highness has awakened.”

“Was she protesting the events of yesterday’s contest?”

It was Maximilian who answered me this time.

“No. The princess has no intention of expressing any complaints about the contest. We have been told that Teuton accepts the results.”

“Then why are you looking for me?”

Unless 3333 protests had been launched about the previous day’s events, the princess of Teuton had no reason to seek me at this point in time. Now, rather than talking with our kingdom, it was time for the Teutons to make up for their defeat and start thinking what their counter-proposals would be to attain some of Leonberg’s dwarven armaments.

Maximilian was staring at me and started to speak carefully.

“When I asked in person what it was, she said it was a very personal affair.”

“A personal matter?”

“The princess of Teuton wants to meet with you, brother.”

Marshal Bielefeld, who was next to Maximilian, now spoke.

“However, she said that she wanted only the two of you to meet one another, if possible.”

“Two people?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Only two people without any attendants.”

I frowned as I heard the Marshal’s words. Negotiations had broken down, and the situation was such that the duke of their country could not eat or drink due to his terrible defeat. I couldn’t figure out a reason for Hestia to ask that we meet alone.

There was no benefit to be gained from the current situation if only the two of us talked. As I wracked my head to grasp the princess’s intentions, others gave their opinions.

“I saw how the princess of Teuton looked at you yesterday, brother, and it was unusual. Do you think that, by seeing your lionesque figure, compassion has been born within her …”

Maximilian’s words flowed past the back of my ears.

“If you meet with her, you will naturally learn the princess’s intentions,” Siorin said, not hiding his hostility, and when I glanced at him, he nodded.

“Let’s meet first,” I said, nodding, after thinking on it for a moment.

“Send someone to let them know that I have allowed her to stand on her own. Tell her to meet me at my palace.”

According to the leaders’ words, I would soon know how different the princess was on the inside compared to her external facade if I met with her. I went straight to my palace.

And soon enough, Princess Hestia arrived. She was many times more elaborately decorated and dressed than when I had seen her at the dinner table – with a red, blushing face, like a girl in love.

“Ahahaha.”

Laughter flowed from me. I was hoping she wasn’t asking for my hand in marriage by showing off her modest beauty like this. By all means, that would be a waste of both our times.