He looked at Karl, then at the lance in his own hand, which was nearly indistinguishable from Karl's, and swallowed nervously.
"The match begins!" The referee sharply dropped his hand.
The moment the referee announced the start, he directly spurred his warhorse and shouted: "I yield! I am no match for the Nymph!"
"Hahaha! He must be scared!"
"Yes, I wouldn't even think about it; I'd be afraid of getting beaten like that too!"
"The wounds they got in the last match haven't even healed yet."
The audience was abuzz, mixed with quiet laughter and jeers.
Karl curled his lip under his helmet and gave a slight bow, indicating he accepted the unexpected victory.
In the second round, the draw results showed Karl's opponent was from the White Rose team.
This was because their vice-captain had already been knocked around by Karl's halberd and was now walking a bit unsteadily.
The opponent rode his horse, seemingly engaged in a fierce internal ideological struggle.
In the end, at the referee's command, they charged, lances about to clash.
He turned his horse's head, allowing Karl's lance to easily strike his cuirass, symbolically ending the match.
Then he smiled with relief and quickly left the field.
And his almost ceremonial way of conceding again sparked discussion in the stands.
"It seems the young man from our Nymphs team has scared their courage away. This is amusing, truly interesting."
Foltest, under the canopy, watched with pleasure, tapping his fingers on the railing.
A faint smile played on Triss's lips, while Keira curled her lip: "Hmph! He just scares people with brute force. The lance competition places more emphasis on skill and horsemanship."
Fercart immediately interjected: "But the ability to create such a deterrent with just one victory is itself an extraordinary strength, Keira."
In the third round, Karl was lucky to get a bye, advancing directly.
There were even sighs of relief from the stands, whether rejoicing that Karl didn't need to crush more opponents or because another knight had avoided the shame of facing him directly.
In the final semi-final, three other knights competed against each other, with the winner to face Karl in the final.
The match was extremely intense; all three seemed to vent their frustration and fear of not having to fight Karl on each other.
In the end, another knight from the White Rose team, who had never directly fought Karl, won.
However, back on the field, he looked at Karl, who was already calmly standing on the other side, holding his lance and mounted,
the courage he had just mustered seemed to vanish in an instant.
His steed also seemed to sense its rider's emotions and began to pace restlessly.
Woo! The final horn sounded.
The White Rose knight charged towards Karl, trying his best to win with skill, aiming his lance directly at the center of Karl's shield.
But at the moment the two horses crossed and the lances clashed, everyone only heard a dull, loud sound, like a strike to a drum, not the tip of a lance hitting a shield.
Instead, Karl was the first to use the shaft of his lance to precisely deflect the opponent's tip, while simultaneously, the blunt head of his own lance lightly struck the opponent's gorget.
At this moment, Karl's movements were light and precise, unlike the fury of the previous melee.
The White Rose knight froze in place, feeling the undeniable pressure against his throat.
Finally, he slowly lowered his lance and bowed convincingly to Karl.
The referee announced loudly: "The winner of this lance competition is Karl El of the Nymphs team!"
"Oh! Karl, the ultimate champion."
"Hey, I bet on him before the match, and I made some money."
"Damn, I didn't bet on this knight at all. Hey, man, how much did you bet?"
"Hmph, nothing much, just one Oren."
"Damn, brother, you're so rich. That's almost three months of my income."
Applause erupted again, though not as shocking as at the end of the melee, but there was a bit more recognition and respect for the absolute strongman.
...
That night, the Royal Ballroom was brightly lit and magnificent.
Karl changed into a dark blue fitted outfit, much more luxurious than his usual clothes.
This wasn't something he bought; Triss had prepared it for him in advance.
His posture was tall, and after the fierce battle during the day, there was no sign of fatigue.
As soon as he entered the hall, he became the center of attention.
He was different from the image of the sweaty, warrior-like figure from the day.
At this moment, he looked like a restrained and influential young aristocrat.
As expected, he even felt a bit nervous.
As soon as he entered the floor, he was almost immediately surrounded by a group of ladies.
The various scents of perfume touched his face, and feather-adorned fans played behind charming smiles.
The ladies and noblewomen who had thrown him petals and handkerchiefs during the day now expressed their "enthusiasm" without any reservation.
"Mr. El, your performance today was truly... breathtaking."
"I wonder if I might have the honor of listening to you recount those wonderful moments in detail? I have some rather good... red wine in my chambers."
A countess with a very low neckline almost pressed her body against him, her eyes gleaming.
"And I, Lord Knight. My husband is far away on the border, and the night is long. Perhaps you might need... some comfort?"
Another viscountess deftly pushed the first one aside and shoved a note with an address written on it into Karl's hand.
"Your Excellency, Karl, your hands are so strong. By the way, may I ask you to be my dance partner... and teach me how to hold a 'lance' firmly?"
A young aristocratic lady boldly stroked his strong forearm.
Karl maintained a polite and distant smile, skillfully blocking the overly enthusiastic physical contact.
Just like in the martial arts competition, he blocked these weapons just as smoothly.
He took the scented note and put it in his pocket without even looking at it (planning to dispose of it later).
And for the explicit invitations, he declined them with impeccable politeness.
"Thank you for your affection, Madam. But a true knight should not speak of conquests that did not happen on the battlefield or in the arena."
"Your husband serves the country, Madam. You should remain faithful to him. Forgive me for not being able to agree."
"Miss, your dancing steps are more exquisite than mine, but I have already promised the first dance and all my dance partners for this evening."
Karl's gaze swept over these eager ladies and accurately found Triss, who was talking with Keira in a corner of the corridor.
And at that moment, Triss was also watching him from afar.
Her fiery red hair was like burning flames in the light, and her blue eyes sparkled with playfulness and tenderness.
Karl blinked a few times and cast her a meaningful look.