The Skeleton Soldier Failed to Defend the Dungeon

Of course, I couldn’t sleep, and the girl lying on the bed couldn’t either. I could sense her nervousness.

I don’t blame her.

She’d resolve it herself eventually. I turned my focus elsewhere.

They were all weak.

Every human I fought in the tournament was weak. None could take even a single proper strike.

Have I grown stronger?

Perhaps the two I had fought were particularly weak. I lost track of time as I drifted into thought.

Eventually, I heard faint, soft breathing.

It seemed the girl had finally fallen asleep after remaining tense for so long. From her appearance, I estimated her age to be around sixteen or seventeen. The gentle light of dawn fell on her face, revealing marks near her lips, signs she’d been struck.

It’s already this late?

Solid rays of sunlight pierced through the night. She must have stayed awake, tense, until dawn. For some reason, I felt sorry for her.

The night quietly retreated, and Rena arrived.

Knock, knock.

“Good morning! Did you have a pleasant time?” She smiled as she brushed her damp hair back with both hands. “This girl fell asleep, I see.”

Rena glanced at the sleeping girl on the bed. The light lingered on her face.

Clatter.

I drew the curtains over the window. The dimmed light softened the girl’s expression.

“It was too easy.”

Rena instantly understood my abrupt comment. “It’s a tournament hosted by a rural lord. He hasn’t formally inherited the title of count yet, so he’s still addressed as a viscount.”

“Is that so...”

“The truly strong are already employed by generous patrons or have joined knight orders.”

“What a dull place this is.”

“There is someone decent, though. He’s in the first match this morning.”

That caught my interest. “Really?”

“He’s massive and always wears a helmet. He’s not just big. He’s fast and strong, too.”

“What weapon?”

“He uses a two-handed sword. Though I doubt he’ll give you much trouble. Do you know where all the bets are going right now?”

Tap, tap.

Rena lightly brushed her fingers against my chest and whispered in my ear, “All on you.”

“...”

“You’re performing even better than I expected. Everyone’s talking about Zagan Seere—it’s so noisy.” She lowered her voice even more. “I’m a bit worried you’ve drawn too much attention.”

After a moment of thought, I told Rena, “Three wins.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll stop at three wins.”

I had a simple reason for telling her that. “You can handle the gambling however you want.”

“Well, that’s great to hear.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, with everyone flocking to your side, it was honestly becoming a bit troublesome.”

To profit from high odds, the winner had to stand out in front of the crowd.

***

I walked slowly to the tournament grounds and sat down.

“Sir Zagan!”

A tall man I had never seen before approached me. He wore a high-quality wool coat and appeared to be in his late thirties.

He stood next to me and greeted me politely. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Benar from the Leinz Trading Company.”

I glanced at him for a moment. “What is it?”

“I apologize for the sudden approach, but your performance captivated me. If you ever consider it, please contact our company.” He subtly tucked a handkerchief into my armor. “If you work for us, we can double whatever you’re earning now.”

“And how much do you think I’m earning?”

“Well...”

At that moment, one of the guards stationed nearby strode toward us. “Step away from the participant!”

Step away from the participant? Are they talking about me?

That seemed to be the case as the guard roughly blocked the tall man.

“Do not approach the participants without permission. This is your first warning.”

The guard’s expression was aggressive and threatening.

“Well, it seems interference is inevitable. I’ll look forward to the day we meet again.”

Benar maintained his smile as he retreated.

The guard turned to me, grinning as if trying to appear friendly. “Our lord is very interested in you, Sir Zagan. We wish you the best of luck!”

The guard’s tone was overly eager and insincere. After lingering awkwardly for a moment, he finally wandered off.

What was that about?

I unfolded Benar’s handkerchief. The trading company’s name and location were embroidered on the silk handkerchief.

Similar incidents occurred a couple more times. Wealthy-looking men approached me, only to be chased off by guards each time.

“Sir Knight, please consider our trading company...”

“If you ever plan to relocate, think of our family first...”

“Is there anything you desire? We’ll exceed your expectations! We’d love to work with you!”

“You’re quite popular,” Rena remarked with a smile.

“What are they doing?”

“Recruiting. They want you to be their sword. Rich people always need strong fighters—both to make money and protect it.”

“I see...”

“And the lord is trying to stop them from conducting business at his tournament.”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The pre-match drums sounded.

Rena changed the subject. “Ah, it’s the next match. That’s him. Watch closely, both are favorites to win.”

Two figures stepped onto the field. One was massive—not just tall, but solid and muscular. He wore a helmet that obscured his face,and his full-plate armor was old and cracked in places, clearly indicating it was of low quality.

“It looks more ceremonial than functional,” I commented.

“Indeed. He wears it to look the part of a knight.”

The announcer introduced him. “The Rampaging Knight, Krestin!”

The knight raised his two-handed sword briefly in acknowledgment.

“Woooahhh!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, hungry for blood. Krestin moved quietly, his demeanor surprisingly calm. His expression remained unreadable beneath his helmet.

On the opposite side stood his opponent, Wayne the Icy Spear. He was a lean man of average height, clad in light armor and wielding an exceptionally long spear that measured over two meters. The shaft appeared to be made of a special, flexible wood.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The announcer repeated the rules before the match started. “Let the duel begin!”

Wayne was the first to attack. He circled Krestin with light steps.

Whip! Whip!

His spear darted and twisted, feinting and probing for openings. He pulled the spear far back, using one hand as support, and thrust it powerfully.

Clang!

Krestin swung his two-handed sword outward, deflecting the spear.

Clang! Clang!

Krestin stepped back once or twice but maintained his stance.

Thwack!

A spear tip struck his shoulder, causing him to stagger slightly.

Whip!

The spear shot low, but Krestin sidestepped, raising his sword to strike Wayne from above.

He’s fast.

Just as Krestin’s massive blade descended toward Wayne’s head, Wayne threw sand into Krestin’s face.

Swish!

“Ugh!”

A faint groan escaped Krestin’s helmet. He covered his face with his hand, but the sand was quicker.

In that moment of hesitation, Wayne aimed his spear at Krestin’s helmet.

Thunk!

The helmet was knocked off, and it rolled across the ground. Krestin’s face was revealed, along with his short hair, broad nose, and scarred cheeks.

The crowd murmured in confusion, “Huh? Is that...”

“A woman?”

“No way, right?”

“With a build like that?”

“Speak up!” Even Wayne joined in, laughing mockingly. “I thought I was fighting a person, but it’s an ogre in disguise! What is this, a hunt?”

I frowned, puzzled by their reaction.

Is it really that easy to tell human males and females apart?

Rena muttered beside me, “Someone’s stirring the pot. She’s obviously a woman, but they reacted too quickly.”

“Did he know beforehand?”

“That Wayne guy seems to be aware that she’s female.”

Krestin narrowed her dark eyes. Her chapped, rough lips parted as she said, “Respect a knight’s honor.”

That was all she said.

Wayne sneered, “A knight? More like an ogre! Go back to your forest! Hahaha!”

The crowd burst into laughter and jeers. But Krestin’s stance remained steady, her grip on her sword unwavering. Despite her short, unkempt hair and rugged appearance, she exuded a resolute calm.

“She’s not fazed,” Rena noted.

“Indeed.”

Wayne continued his harassment, but Krestin remained composed.

Slash!

Thirty exchanges later, Wayne’s snapped spear wobbled flimsily.

As Krestin charged, Wayne hastily declared his surrender. “Yield!”

“...”

Krestin halted her advance and slowly withdrew her sword. The crowd offered no cheers, only sneers and crude whistles.

“Why doesn’t she strike him down?” I asked.

Rena shrugged. “She’s here for a rare opportunity.”

“Opportunity?”

“Knight orders rarely accept women, even as squires.”

“Hmm...”

“This tournament might be her only chance.”

Krestin endured the mocking laughter and crude remarks with unshaken dignity.

The lord approached her with a smirk. “So, Krestin, you’re revealing your true identity. You’re listed as a wandering knight...”

Krestin picked up her fallen helmet, brushed it off, and tucked it under her arm. “Yes, I volunteered for this tournament.”

“Is that so? Haha! You don’t have ogre blood, do you?”

She bit her lip slightly. “No, I do not.”

Clink.

She sheathed her battered sword, her freckled cheeks trembling slightly. Her grip on the sword was steady.

“What’s your real name?”

“Christina de Bruyser.”

When she spoke her name, the crowd erupted in mocking laughter again.

A long whistle echoed from the stands. “Christina~ Woohoo!”

“De Bruyser? That ruined family? Did they have ogres?”

Click.

Christina put her helmet back on and said, “I will take my leave.”

Only then did the announcer declare, “The victor is... Christina!”

The crowd erupted in derisive laughter once more.