The grand tournament is in the castle's majestic courtyard, flanked by the imposing western, eastern, and northern wings. Each wing boasts a large and ornate balcony on the second floor, which offers a stunning view of the courtyard below.

  As the tournament progresses, the barony of Krimlond and Razlond comes to life outside the western wing. On the balcony, the influential figures of the baroness Lina and the lords of Razlond and Krimlond are gathered, their presence adding a layer of excitement as they cheer on their champions with unwavering enthusiasm.

  On the balcony above their people, the Barons and Baroness of Erenlond and Solond are positioned outside the eastern wing. Their anticipation is palpable, their excitement contagious as they eagerly await the tournament's outcome, fervently rooting for their combatants.

  The northern balcony overlooks the entire courtyard, reserved for the Queen and the royal family. They watch the tournament with keen interest, observing every move of the knights as they compete for glory.

  In the courtyard below, the knights of the White orchid are stationed, guarding that part of the wing with utmost diligence. The atmosphere is electric, and the excitement is palpable as the tournament climaxes.

  The courtyard green is bustling with activity as the lower-ranking members of the baronies sit outside, chatting and soaking up the sun. Large umbrellas have been set up for most ladies, providing them respite from the heat. The combatants are gathered in the southernmost part of the courtyard, waiting for instructions. Runner and Zavet are among the group, eagerly anticipating their turn to fight.

  When Runner spots Zavet, he urgently throws his hand up to get his attention. "Zavet," he calls out, his voice tinged with desperation. Zavet turns towards him, a smile spreading across his face. They navigate through the large crowd, their steps quick and purposeful. "Hi, are you fighting too?" Zavet asks Runner, sensing the urgency in his voice. "Yeah, I got kicked out of the order, and I'm being forced to fight to join a barony so the order doesn't execute me," Runner explains, his words rushed and filled with fear.

  Zavet looks at Runner curiously and is surprised as he listens to his story. Runner describes in great detail everything that happened upon returning to the city.

  Zavet looked at Runner, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh wow," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe he just no like you. He in the tournament?" Runner gestured towards a tall, muscular man with a bald head and a purple and white tabard standing in the crowd. The man's arms are crossed over his chest, and his expression is unreadable. Still, a sense of power emanated from him, making Runner think twice about fighting with him.

  Zavet followed Runner's gaze and nodded, studying the man momentarily. "Is he strong?" he asked, his voice low.

  Runner thought momentarily before answering, "Yeah, but he is arrogant. He probably thinks no one here can beat him."

  As they spoke, the crowd around them grew quiet, and the tension in the air became palpable. Something was about to happen, and Runner and Zavet tensed, anticipating the tournament.

  Merlot Nurison, the charismatic leader of the baronies, stands confidently in the middle of the bustling courtyard, addressing the lively crowd gathered before him. He beams with pride as he expresses his delight at how the festival has been great so far, and the people cheer in agreement. Merlot takes a moment to congratulate Krimlond on their well-deserved win in the battle of baronies, which was a thrilling and fun event for all in attendance.

  Merlot, known for his sense of humor, apologizes for not being present during the battle and playfully jokes that they would have put up an even better fight if he had been there. The crowd laughs and nods in agreement.

  The leader then makes a grand announcement, his voice booming with excitement, of a large tournament scheduled for the day, with the winner awarded a coveted Magic weapon. Merlot also reveals that the baronies will use the tournament to scout for recruits, adding a competitive edge to the already intense event. He encourages the fighters to do their best, his voice rising passionately, giving them a much-needed morale boost.

  "WITH THAT BEING SAID, LET'S GET THE FIGHTS STARTED," Merlot bellows, his eyes shining with anticipation. He then leaves the courtyard and heads to the northern balcony with his wife, the queen's mother, to watch the tournament unfold.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man with jet-black curly hair steps onto the lush green field, clutching a large scroll. With a commanding voice, he unrolls the scroll and announces the names of the first two combatants. The fighters make their way to the center of the field, each armed with their chosen weapon. The fight begins, and it's clear that both men rely solely on brute strength, lacking any real skill or finesse in their attacks.

  One fighter wields a crude-looking axe, while the other uses a wooden club and a shield. The battle rages on, with the combatants trading blow after blow. Suddenly, the axe-wielding fighter's weapon gets lodged in his opponent's shield. Seizing the opportunity, the club and shield user lands a devastating blow, striking the axe-wielder with a well-placed attack that proves fatal.

  After the fight, a man from Solond approaches and heals both combatants. The black-haired announcer steps back onto the green and raises the hand of the victorious club and shield user, declaring them the first to advance to the second round. With a gesture, he directs the winner to take his place in front of the northern wing, ready to face the next challenge.

  The arena is alive with noise as the announcer calls out the next two fighters. The crowd is on its feet, eager to witness the impending battle. Suddenly, amidst the cheers and jeers, a woman strides into the arena, wielding a sword and shield. Her opponent enters from the opposite side, brandishing two short swords. Sitting next to Zavet, Runner nudges him and whispers, "She's good. I watched her last year."

  Without wasting time, the woman charges forward, ramming the man with her shield before unleashing a flurry of sword strikes. The man is no match for her ferocity and skill; she slices through him like a hot knife through butter, nearly splitting him in two at the waist. Zavet is amazed and claps along with the rest of the crowd. Runner laughs and tells Zavet, "She beat Ivan last year; it was great. I don't know why no baronies asked her to join."

  The woman is dressed in Viking-esque clothing, and her wild demeanor reminds Zavet of a predator he would have run from when he was just a little lizard. As soon as she pulls her sword out of the man's body, she makes her way to the winner's area without waiting for the announcer. The crowd roars with approval, and Zavet can't help but feel a sense of awe and excitement at the spectacle before him.

  The arena is filled with cheers as the announcer congratulates a woman on her victory. As the crowd quiets down, the announcer calls out the next fighters. "Our next fighter is a favorite of the people, LORD IVAN!" His name echoes through the arena as he confidently strides to the center. Suddenly, Ivan interrupts the announcer's next call-out and steps forward, holding up a hand to stop the proceedings. "My lords, if you would allow me, I would like to make a challenge," he says, his voice clear and commanding. "I would like to challenge Runner Ghostfast. He was recently removed as one of my knights in training, and I would like to teach him a lesson today." The lords agree, and the queen gives him permission with a slight bow. As Ivan turns to face his opponent, Zavet gives Runner a rough slap. "Fight his mouth off." Runner sighs and reluctantly steps to the courtyard's center, preparing to face his former mentor in a grueling battle.

  Runner gripped his two-handed sword tightly and got into his battle stance, with his sword level with his eyes. He pointed the tip of his sword towards Ivan's feet and lowered his stance slightly lower than normal. On the other hand, Ivan was wielding a longsword and a round wooden shield. His stance was lazy, as he didn't expect much of Runner, no matter how well he fought. Ivan constantly criticized him and forced the other knights to mistreat him.

  Runner slowly circled Ivan, waiting for him to make a move. Once Ivan launched an attack, Runner quickly dodged backward and attempted to counter-attack by aiming for his feet. However, Ivan had brought his knee up, avoiding the attack. Runner side-stepped and went on the offensive, circling towards Ivan's sword hand. In a swift move, Runner drew first blood by cutting into Ivan's hip.

  Ivan was taken aback by Runner's skills and retreated, quickly resetting his stance. He glanced at the lords, slightly embarrassed that he had underestimated Runner's abilities.

  Runner was relentless in his attack, never giving his opponent a chance to catch his breath. He charged forward with great skill, striking and dodging with incredible speed and precision. On the other hand, Ivan went on the defensive, trying to block each attack, hoping to find an opening. They continued to trade blows back and forth, the intensity of their fight increasing with each passing moment. The crowd grew louder and louder with excitement, cheering them on as they battled it out in the center of the ring.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ivan stumbled back, feeling the sting of a few new wounds. Frustration and anger boiled within him as he realized he hadn't touched Runner yet. Breathing heavily, Ivan locked eyes with his opponent. "Where was this determination when we were training?" he spat out. Runner just smirked in response. "You never allowed me to show you," he said, tauntingly. The crowd erupted into cheers as the two men clashed. Runner seemed to dominate Ivan with each attack, but Ivan just let out a small laugh as he threw his shield at Runner. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Ivan charged forward and grabbed Runner's sword by the hilt. Quickly, he stepped behind Runner and threw him to the ground. Runner gasped for air as Ivan let out a deep, guttural laugh. "You fell for that? You fight well; I'll give you that. But you don't know battle." As Runner started to roll away, Ivan swung wildly at him, determined to claim victory.

  The seasoned warrior Ivan had Runner pinned to the ground, using his powerful legs to deliver a series of bone-crunching kicks. Ivan laughed maniacally as Runner rolled and writhed on the ground, unable to get up or defend himself. Ivan's face was twisted into a cruel sneer as he taunted Runner. "Where is your fight now, boy?" he jeered, clearly enjoying his dominance over his opponent.

  But then, something strange happened. Ivan felt a sudden jolt of pain shoot up his arm, and he winced, feeling as though a bolt of lightning had struck him. He tried to move his arm, but it seemed paralyzed as if he had lost all control over it. As he rubbed his shoulder, a strange tingling sensation spread through his body, making him feel weak and unsteady on his feet. Despite the pain and confusion, Ivan managed to piece together what was happening. He looked at Runner, his eyes narrowing with suspicion and anger. "Poison?" he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "You would bring poison into a tournament? Coward!" His face twisted in agony as he realized his arrogance and overconfidence had led him into a trap. He felt his facial muscles twitching involuntarily and knew he was in serious trouble.

  Runner gets back on his feet, his heart racing as Ivan's body slowly starts to succumb to the poison inside him, paralyzing him. Runner looks at Ivan with a mixture of disappointment and anger. "After all the training you put us through, you fell for what you tell us is the undead's favorite weapon? You should have known better, Ivan. You are an embarrassment!"

  Runner walks over to his sword and picks it up, his eyes fixed on Ivan. He points the tip of his sword at Ivan's chest, slowly running him through, pushing the blade deep into his heart. Ivan's eyes go wide with shock, and he falls to the ground with a thud, his body lifeless.

  Runner looks down at Ivan's lifeless body, his chest heaving with emotion. He feels sad for the Knight and relieved that the battle is over. Runner takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

  The stadium erupts in thunderous applause as the underdog emerges victorious. The man with curly black hair strides confidently towards Runner and raises his hand to the sky. "My lords and ladies, we have just witnessed a remarkable turn of events. One of his former students has vanquished Lord Ivan, a seasoned warrior. The cunning use of poison against an undead-fighting knight has proven to be a winning strategy. It is a reminder to all of us never to underestimate our opponents." With a flourish, he lowers Runner's hand and guides him towards the winner's podium.

  Runner stood next to the woman who had just won the second match in the tournament. "Hey, Alley," he said, trying to catch her attention. She turned to face him. "The poison was clever. I can't believe that idiot didn't have some sort of protection against it, especially since he is a knight. Don't undead have poison on their claws?" Alley's casual way of talking surprised Runner, but he was also intrigued by her knowledge of poison. "Uh, we normally ensure we are protected during patrols or travel. I knew he wouldn't have one. He didn't have a high expectation of me," Runner said, feeling slightly embarrassed. Alley smiled and cast a magic shield on herself that would neutralize the next poison she was infected by. Runner laughed as she finished and asked, "I take it that you won't be underestimating me?" Alley replied with a flirtatious tone, "Not at all. You were great." As they were talking, Zavet walked into the winners' area. Runner turned towards him and asked, "I didn't even see the fight start. What happened?" Zavet held his bloody fingers up and said, "He ran and jumped at me. So I side-stepped and let his attack hit my shield. It was bad. Maybe he tried a new move. It didn't work."

  The announcer escorts Zavets' injured opponent off the green. "Wow, that was quite a scene. I'm unsure how a creature like that could compete in the tournament. It looks like the lizard injured his opponent's eye with his finger, and he didn't even use his tail, sword, or whatever else."

  As the fights progress, Zavet, Runner, and Alley carefully observe each fighter, analyzing their every move. Most competitors are brutish and lack real skill or talent, but the trio closely monitors them. When the victors enter the winner's circle, the three friends step back, knowing they will face them in the next round.

  After four of these fights, the announcer strides confidently to the center of the arena, his voice booming across the stands. He looks up at Krimlond's balcony, his expression of confusion and disbelief. "Are you sure, my lords, or was this a practical joke?" The members of Krimlond begin to look around with surprised expressions, wondering what he is talking about. Suddenly, a gray-skinned gnome with a long hat adorned with gears bursts out laughing, his high-pitched voice echoing throughout the arena. The announcer smiles and shakes his head as he rolls his eyes, amused by the gnome's antics.

  "Lord Hoat, your name was magically entered by phantom writing," the announcer explains, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Will you be entertaining us with a show of sportsmanship?" A human with monkey-like features stands and looks at the gnome, his features twisted into a scowl. The gnome giggles and says, "I bet you five hundred gold you can't win this tournament." The crowd of peasants gasps and starts talking in hushed tones, unable to believe the audacity of the gnome's bet.

  Hoat responds by raising his hands, his expression calm and collected. "Calm yourselves," he says, his voice carrying over the crowd's noise. "As Krimlond's right-hand man and second in command, I will accept this bet, but any winnings will go to the people. I will use it to build a new lumber mill where the wage will start at twenty-five gold per year." This wage would be very high and considered a high-class artisan's pay in a guild, prompting everyone to clap and cheer. The crowd erupts into a frenzy, their voices ringing across the arena as they cheer for Hoat and his generous offer.

  As the names appear on the scroll, the announcer feels the tension in the air rise. The lords in attendance have different expectations for the tournament, which the announcer quickly addresses. "Your lordships, please," he says, trying to calm them down. "This is not the tournament you are looking for. As you all know, this is for talent scouting." He then turns to the queen and adds, "Yes, Lord Ivan participated and lost, but please, I apologize, your Majesty. Would you like this to continue, or would you like me to remove the lords?"

  The queen stands up and looks at the crowd with a loving expression. She has a plan in mind. "For every lord that wins," she says, "they will do the same as Lord Hoat. The barony will pay the wage for the first year, after which the wage will be lowered to reflect the production cost. There will be no owners of these businesses. All of the profits will go to the employees." Her announcement is greeted with cheers and applause from the peasants, who realize this could significantly change their way of living.

  Hoat jumps down from the balcony without any visible weapon. He approaches the announcer and asks, "May I join the winners' circle and fight in the second round of the tournament?" The announcer turns to look at the combatants who have not fought yet and agrees, "I do believe that will be fine. It will give us an even number of combatants." The other members of the entered baronies also go to the winners' circle.

  Zavet, Runner, and Alley greet the lord and barony members as they enter the winners' circle. "Great fight, guys. The three of you had us excited. We just wanted to test you personally," Hoat tells them. Alley raises an eyebrow in annoyance as she looks at all the new people. "So all of that stuff was a lie?" Hoat grins and gives her a little laugh. "No, we will be doing that. We needed to boost the morale of the people. That was all part of the queen's plan." Alley shrugs and looks up at the queen.

  After all the combatants had a round in the tournament, all the victorious participants assembled at the winner's circle. The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that The tournament will resume in three hours. Please take a break and enjoy some delicious food or explore the various attractions of the festival. We'll see you back here soon for more thrilling battles!"

  Hoat stops Runner. "Would you come with me? I have something I would like to talk to you about." Hoat takes Runner under the Krimland balcony, where the barony members surround them.

  "We have an informant who told us you fought a champion of the Forgotten."

  Runner nods. "Yeah, I fought him." He turns to look at Zavet across the green at the winner's circle. "They let me go because of my name, Ghostfast. It apparently was a famous name of a necromantic knight. Why do you ask?"

  Hoat also turns to look at Zavet, and a thought crosses his mind. "Who was the champion?"

  Runner smiled. "He wasn't a champion. We were both fighting for our lives. They even commanded the knights of the Black Order to kill him, and he took out two of them at once. They thought he'd kill me easily. I think they were just testing his strength. I didn't get to see the outcome. He asked them to release me for putting up a good fight. We were both at their mercy. There was this bronze-skinned elf guy who seemed to be in charge."

  Hoat nods and turns back to Runner. "A bronze elf? The old stories say the dragons freed this world of bronze elves and their necromancy. Are you saying you met one of them?"

  Runner turned to Hoat. "Yeah."

  Hoat looked at Zavet. "Who else knows about this?"

  Runner shook his head. "Ivan didn't take me seriously. He wanted me out anyway. I'm pretty sure he didn't tell anyone."

  Hoat rolled his eyes. "Ivan's stupidity caused us a lot of trouble back in the day. Did you know he was in Krimlond once? We had to kick him out because he was too stupid to work as a team. After he left, we started to become what we are now. He had the last baron in his pocket. Once Lina took over, she removed eleven members and kept Flynn." He laughed. "He was a joke. That's why his knight order is considered the worst of all the other orders."

  Runner smiled, and they continued to talk about the barony.