Silence hung in the air.
Even the people on our side, who had been celebrating, started glancing nervously at the Tyrolean delegation. If the Tyrolean knights had at least put up a decent fight, it might have been different, but they hadn't even been able to keep up. Tyrol's pride had taken a serious beating.
Their last hope, Knight Commander Schwarz, had stepped up with his halberd, full of bravado and apparently confident he could snatch a victory. But since the halberd was my main weapon as well, the exact opposite had happened.
Schwarz's state of mind was a muddled mix of bewilderment and tension. He must have found it strange to see a knight from Beren wielding a halberd—Beren, a place so famously stubborn that it hadn't even adopted cannons or firearms.
