Vote for Your Knight! - Chapter 11

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Vote for your knight!
Chapter 11
The Entrance Evaluation was over.
Everyone cheered silently within.
Playing the mole in the mole-whacking game had been grueling enough, but watching the other ninety-nine moles wasn’t exactly a reprieve.
Kusto exhaled in relief.
‘Now I can finally head back, right?’
Most participants would return to their homes or reserved lodgings.
But Kusto planned to stay at a dormitory prepared by Cartamen.
‘I’ve got no money anyway. No point turning down free lodging.’
It was then that an uneasy feeling crept in.
‘But why are they coming back out?’
The judges who had left the stage—the Valkyries—were returning.
And in full Armor.
“Surely not…….”
“No, it can’t be. The day’s nearly spent.”
“If they were human, you’d have to give them rest. Otherwise they’d be goblins.”
The participants muttered among themselves.
But the Valkyries were no longer human.
“Special Training begins now.”
Commander Amont spoke curtly.
Her tone and bearing had shifted dramatically from the evaluation.
“???”
At Amont’s words, question marks floated above everyone’s heads.
“Collect your Armor and assemble at your assigned Grade Special Training Ground.”
“But still, this is too much…….”
“Whoever arrives last will have their Grade lowered.”
At that, all the protesting participants suddenly bolted toward their Armor like madmen.
Even the Grade 5 participants, with nowhere lower to fall, scrambled in panic at the thought of further penalties.
They hastily donned their Armor and rushed toward their assigned Special Training Grounds.
Kusto reached for his Armor and froze.
‘The higher the Grade, the finer the Armor.’
In other words, the Grade 2 Armor given to Kusto was something he’d never worn before.
It was difficult to put on, let alone manage alone.
He would need someone’s help.
‘But who would help me?’
“Do you need my help?”
Had someone heard his silent plea?
A voice came from behind.
It was David, already fully dressed in Grade 1 Armor.
On handsome David, even the utilitarian Armor gleamed like ornate court regalia.
It was absurd.
But something far more bewildering troubled him.
“?”
Why are you helping me?
Kusto’s expression asked the question his lips didn’t, as he stared at David.
David nodded, understanding.
“Fine. I’ll help.”
What do you mean “fine”? What’s with this guy?
Kusto watched David help him into his Armor and felt a sudden surge of emotion welling up.
“So you see me as some poor wretch who always needs rescuing…….”
“Done. Don’t bother thanking me.”
Yet David finished his task and simply sprinted away without ceremony.
“This bastard…….”
Just then someone clapped Kusto sharply on the shoulder and bolted ahead.
More fully armored figures burst forward in their wake.
‘Right. Arriving late to the Special Training Ground means your Grade gets lowered!’
There was no time for stray thoughts.
Kusto sprinted toward the Grade 2 Special Training Ground.
* * *
—Edith’s Journal—
※Participant List by Grade※
Grade 1
David
– Honor or death
– Works well when nudged subtly
Raphael
– A golden-haired beauty with a kind demeanor who runs the Orphanage
– There’s potential, they say, but wasn’t her Grade rating a bit generous?
Pierre
– Sits in spectator seat number one
– Former coachman, but… frightening somehow
– Though his ash-gray hair and violet eyes are absolutely striking—he looks like a beautiful demon
Grade 2
Kusto
– Bears a Slave Mark yet carries himself with confidence
– There seems to be a reason he hasn’t erased the mark
Dmitri
– Currently serving a penalty for deception
* * *
Amont was already waiting at the Special Training Ground when they arrived.
Arms crossed, she watched the gasping participants with cold appraisal.
“Already winded from running? We haven’t even begun.”
Kusto entered the training ground a moment later.
Three or four others filed in behind him, and the door swung shut.
A participant who hadn’t made it in time clung desperately to the door.
With iron bars forming both door and walls, the sight of the struggling participants looked all the more pitiful from outside.
“That one drops to Grade 3.”
Amont spoke without emotion.
The participants gasped.
“Wasn’t he Grade 1?”
“Dropping two grades at once?”
“Come to think of it, no one said anything about a one-grade penalty limit.”
“Man, this is brutal.”
Now Kusto realized that Amont’s training ground held both Grade 1 and Grade 2 participants together.
‘So they train as one group.’
The unfortunate participant who’d been demoted was dragged away in despair to join the Grade 3 and 4 group.
Waiting there was a Valkyrie named Ines.
The final Grade 5 training ground had Mila stationed there.
‘Grade 5 trains separately—just among themselves.’
It was essentially intensive supervision for the unqualified.
‘If David hadn’t helped me with the armor, I’d have been dropped to Grade 3.’
I should thank him.
But David was already surrounded by a crowd of participants.
‘There’s no way I can get close enough to even greet him.’
That was when it happened.
“Amusing. You still have the energy to chatter.”
At Amont’s frigid words, the murmuring participants fell silent.
“First, you’ll all practice the Swordsmanship I showed you earlier! Then you’ll each come forward and demonstrate it.”
“!”
“Everyone, begin training—now!”
The command struck like thunder from a clear sky.
Master a technique shown only once, then perform it individually for evaluation—it seemed impossible.
“How is this fair? Sure, he’s a prodigy who can learn sword forms at a glance, but……”
Complaints erupted from every corner, yet Amont would not relent.
The participants began clustering in small groups around those who seemed skilled enough to have memorized the techniques.
They needed help.
Two main groups formed.
One centered on David.
The other gathered around a man named Kilmen.
‘What’s that guy doing with all these people gathered around him?’
Curiosity piqued, Kusto glanced at Kilmen. Sensing the gaze, Kilmen strode toward him.
“Who told you to stare at me? Get out of the way! A slave-born wretch has no right to— Ugh!”
Kilmen shoved Kusto hard.
But it was the one who’d pushed who ended up sprawling.
“Are you all right?”
“This slave bastard! To shove Kilmen!”
Kusto found the whole thing absurd.
“Kilmen or whatever pushed me first. And I wasn’t even staring.”
“How dare you speak that way about Kilmen!”
“A trainee of the Pius Faction!”
Kusto watched Kilmen puffing himself up.
Pius — the region where Kusto had lived until recently.
He’d even been hired by the lord there to lead raids against pirates.
‘So there was a Swordsmanship faction there too?’
But he’d never seen them venture out on pirate hunts or actual combat.
They seemed like the sort who cooped themselves up in training grounds, drilling endlessly and bragging amongst themselves.
Still, they didn’t seem entirely without skill.
Kilmen had reproduced every move of the Valkyries’ Swordsmanship he’d seen once.
He had enough composure to even teach the gathered participants his own techniques.
“It’s amazing you remembered all of it.”
“It was similar to the Swordsmanship I’d already learned, so it wasn’t difficult.”
“You’re truly impressive.”
As Kusto turned away, he heard Kilmen laugh with smug satisfaction.
Kusto tried to reproduce what he could remember.
But it wasn’t perfect.
‘If I want to maintain my Grade, I can’t do this alone.’
But he obviously couldn’t learn from Kilmen, and David’s side was already packed with people.
‘That leaves only one other option, then.’
Kusto looked toward the corner.
Dmitri was practicing alone.
No one approached him, as if a barrier had been erected around him.
Everyone except Kusto.
“If it wouldn’t be presumptuous, I was wondering if you might help me learn Swordsmanship.”
Dmitri went rigid as stone.
‘Does he also look down on those born as slaves?’
Kusto was turning away when Dmitri slowly looked at him.
“Just now… you were talking to me?”
“?”
“You want to… learn from me?”
His expression was one of disbelief.
Kusto nodded slightly, a bit taken aback.
“You seem skilled, so I thought it’d be worthwhile to ask. I’d appreciate it if you’d agree.”
“From me……”
Why did this guy keep trailing off with “from me” like that?
“If you don’t want to, you can just say so.”
“No, that’s not it!”
Dmitri called out urgently.
Then, with an oddly grave expression, he asked:
“There’s just one thing I need to ask. Are you sure you won’t regret it?”
“What…? Regretting getting some help with technique? Or is this your way of saying you don’t actually want to teach?”
“No, it’s not like that!”
“I don’t regret things easily anyway, so I’d just appreciate it if you’d teach me.”
“Then… I’ll help you.”
Dmitri spoke.
Inexplicably, his ears had gone red.
‘I hope this isn’t a mistake.’
Kusto watched Dmitri’s Swordsmanship demonstration with lingering doubt.
His doubt dissolved the moment the movements began — they were flawlessly clean.
Exactly as he’d seen them in the Grade test.
Kusto mimicked his movements and learned Swordsmanship.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
Dmitri asked.
‘He didn’t want to teach me before, so why is he acting like this now?’
Well, what’s the harm in it.
“For this part—is it right to bend the arm upward?”
“Oh, about that!”
Dmitri’s face flushed with enthusiasm as he explained with full passion.
‘What’s gotten into him.’
He was being incredibly kind.
Kusto noticed figures at the edges of the crowd stealing glances at the two of them.
Mostly those standing at the very end of the two groups. They could barely see David or Kilmen’s movements by rising up on their heels.
Kusto found it strange.
‘If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be better to move over here?’
It was more than odd that no one sought help from Dmitri—it was peculiar.
‘Traitor or not, survival is what matters.’
Besides, Dmitri was helping him earnestly, his cheeks flushed with exertion.
There couldn’t be a better instructor than this.
“That should be enough practice. We’ll begin individual evaluations now.”
As Kusto finished memorizing the forms, Amont spoke.
Sighs of disappointment rippled through the crowd.
Kusto felt the same.
‘I wish we had a little more time.’
He’d barely managed to memorize all the movements, let alone master them in his body.
Moreover, he’d never learned Swordsmanship from any particular faction, nor trained as an apprentice knight.
He’d only ever fought whatever way worked to survive in real combat.
In other words, he had to start from the very basics.
‘There’s no helping it.’
There was really only one way forward.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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