Chapter 38: The Knight’s Selection
Compared to the armored knights gathered on the open field, the group in front of Li Xiang wore a mix of clothes, without the uniformity of battle armor. He found a spot to stand casually, waiting for the selection process to begin.
Before long, a carriage rolled in slowly from the distance. Under the escort of knights, a middle-aged man in an intricately woven robe stepped out.
He didn't speak as he stepped onto the ground. A servant quickly set up a bench and a small platform about a dozen centimeters high.
Standing above the crowd, with his hands behind his back, the man cleared his throat and announced, "I am Baron Soren MacKenning, the overseer of today's knight selection. Steward, begin."
Without any unnecessary chatter, the steward, clearly accustomed to his lord's style, nodded and gave a slight tilt of his head as he ordered, "Form groups of ten."
Ten knights guided their horses to either side, positioning themselves in two lines, each separated by about three meters.
A swarm of servants followed, setting up ten tables and chairs in front of the knights, laying out parchment and quills.
"Due to the large number of participants, each of you will form into groups of ten and register at the tables. The servants will record your names, and the knights will act as referees, overseeing the matches and ensuring order. Any violations of the rules will result in disqualification," the steward explained.
As soon as he finished speaking, the chaotic crowd surged like a black river toward the registration tables.
Li Xiang didn't rush. He waited for most of the crowd to register before making his way to a table of his choosing.
In the era of King Arthur, the Age of Gods had not yet completely faded, and the air was filled with high concentrations of magical energy—aether. Knights, or to be more precise, close-combat magi, were a product of this environment.
According to Li Xiang's understanding, the prevalence of knights stemmed from the traditions and history of this land.
Magi of the Age of Gods trained their bodies by infusing magic directly into their muscles and bones, turning themselves into powerful warriors over time. In contrast, modern magi, with the decline of mana from the Great Source, had to be much more conservative, coating their bodies with magic rather than infusing it deeply.
It was like comparing a skilled swimmer to someone using a life vest—both could swim, but their methods were fundamentally different.
After observing for a while, Li Xiang chose to register in the ninth group, where there seemed to be fewer burly opponents.
Once his name was recorded, the arena was expanded further, leaving a circle about ten meters in diameter at the center of each group's area.
"The first match: Bez Jeffries vs. Li Xiang."
Hearing his name, Li Xiang stepped into the clearing.
To be honest, he wasn't too concerned about modern magi. Once in close combat, he was confident he could win most of the time. But knights were a different story. With his slight build, without reinforcement magic, a direct hit could shatter him.
Taking a deep breath, he resolved not to slip up here.
Gripping the spear that materialized in his hand, Li Xiang bowed courteously with his opponent before the air around them trembled. The sound of wind echoed as his spear shot forward like a dragon, aimed directly at Bez.
Bez's broad knight's sword had barely lifted.
Li Xiang stepped forward, his body as light as a butterfly. As his spear neared the sword, he altered its course, switching from a thrust to a parry. His right hand slid down the spear shaft while his left extended out.
Using Bez's sword as a pivot, Li Xiang shifted his body mid-dive. The thin spear struck Bez's chest with a sharp crack.
Bez's clothes were pressed into his flesh, and with a loud thud, he was thrown backward, his body skidding three or four meters across the dirt before finally coming to a stop.
Bez struggled to get up but couldn't. His gaze turned dull as he passed out.
The crowd around them fell silent, shifting their focus from Bez to Li Xiang.
Was the first match really this brutal?
'No, I didn't mean it like that!' Li Xiang thought, feeling a little embarrassed.
'Really? Is that it?' He had assumed knights of the Age of Gods would be much stronger, so he had gone all out from the start.
Watching Bez being carried off, Li Xiang awkwardly stood in place. It wasn't until the referee declared his victory that he returned to his position, where the surrounding participants stepped back, giving him a wide berth as if he were a tiger.
Scratching his head, Li Xiang turned his attention to the second match.
This time, it was much more peaceful. The two fighters exchanged blows with respect, their match reflecting the honor of knighthood.
Li Xiang finally realized he was now in the age of King Arthur, a time known as the last era of true chivalry.
"The tenth match: Dalhan Boss vs. Li Xiang."
Li Xiang had barely taken a step before Dalhan rushed into the arena, gripping his knight's sword tightly, his face tense with caution.
Li Xiang opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. He sighed, yet inside, he felt oddly calm.
Since his first kill, every time he entered a fight, a serene stillness washed over him.
He didn't know why, but it certainly worked in his favor.
Li Xiang began his charge.
The crimson spear in his hand was a projection of Scáthach's Gáe Bolg. While its appearance mimicked the real thing, it was just an ordinary spear—no special powers.
As he prepared to throw the spear, bright cracks appeared along its shaft, and his mana surged like mercury, filling the gaps with a radiant white glow.
He released the spear, stopping in his tracks. It streaked through the air with a whoosh, a red blur tearing through the sky.
Dalhan's sword met the spear midair.
For a brief moment, Dalhan felt as though a crazed bull was ramming into him.
Blood dripped from his palms as the impact forced his grip loose, spraying droplets around him.
In just three seconds, Dalhan's sword flew from his hands, landing heavily in the dirt.
Without hesitation, Dalhan raised his torn hands in surrender, shouting, "I give up! I give up! I surrender!"
He repeated it three times, making sure Li Xiang heard him.
The referee confirmed the result, and Li Xiang was once again victorious.
The matches continued. After winning five consecutive rounds, one of the stewards stood and announced, "The preliminary rounds are over. Four participants remain in Group Nine, and one will advance. The first match: Li Xiang vs. Alura Katona. Both fighters, please enter the arena."
Finally, Li Xiang's expression changed.
The person standing before him wore gleaming white armor, with only his eyes exposed.
'Wow, that's some serious wealth,' Li Xiang thought, though he wasn't intimidated.
Armor provided defense, but if the wearer wasn't skilled, it would only slow them down.
'Sorry, but I'm a mage.'
Li Xiang mentally apologized.
He raised his right arm, pointing toward Alura, who was standing at the ready.
A soft whistling sound suddenly echoed through the air, like the wind rushing from a distant place.
Alura, hearing the strange noise, immediately scanned his surroundings.
But the attack came from above.
A spell: Falling Star.
A blazing light shot down from the sky, colliding with Alura's armor in a brilliant flash.
Alura's face went pale under his helmet. It felt as if the ground was spinning beneath him, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
But Li Xiang wasn't done.
A magic circle appeared on the ground.
Faint yellow light spiraled around the circle, and the once solid dirt beneath Alura's feet softened.
Quicksand Spell.
Before Alura could shake off his concussion, he felt the ground beneath him sinking.
He struggled desperately to climb out, but the more he fought, the softer the ground became. Soon, the quicksand had reached his chest, and the cold grip of death seemed to close in around him.
"I give up!"
The quicksand stopped.
Alura, gasping for breath, looked over at the calm young man in the distance, fear flashing in his eyes.