Vote for Your Knight! - Chapter 28

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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!
28
David drew the ball first to determine which team would be his opponent.
“The First Grade team will face…… the Second Grade team!”
The Second Grade representative was Deni Vinoshu. Behind him, Pavel led a wave of cheers.
The First Grade contingent refused to be outdone, chanting David’s name loudly.
Soon the First Grade and Second Grade flags were planted atop their respective hills.
David and Deni stood with their backs to their flags.
“The team that captures the opponent’s flag first wins!”
Hearing this, Deni kicked off his shoes and hurled them aside.
“Ohhhhh!”
“That’s how you mean business!”
Laughter rippled through the other grades, clearly delighted by the turn of events.
But the First Grade could not laugh.
“Our David was raised so genteel……”
“Taking off your shoes is something only people of lower station do.”
“Why can’t he? We’re all the same people.”
Kusto’s voice reached David’s ear.
It was not a protest, but genuine incomprehension.
David answered that remark without hesitation, pulling off his own shoes.
“Whoah!”
“David, he—!”
A roar erupted from the crowd—no one, save Kusto, had anticipated such an action.
Deni bit his lip, then tore off his shirt.
“Oh! Off with it all, everything!”
“Even if it’s David, surely he wouldn’t go that far…… Wahhh!”
The moment David himself removed his tunic, the Arena shook with thunderous cheers.
“Ahem, ahem. That concludes the preparations. The match now begins!”
Edit moved swiftly to start the competition.
Yet despite her haste, she made certain the camera operators captured both competitors from multiple angles.
A measured degree of titillation never hurt the viewership ratings.
Deni charged forward, using his muscular, powerfully built frame to his advantage. David did not dodge—he met him head-on.
Crash!
The two entangled and tumbled to the ground together.
The moment Deni rose first and sprinted toward the First Grade flag—
“Ugh!”
Deni pitched forward again.
David had thrown his whole body at him, bringing him down once more.
Dirt clung to David’s pale musculature. His trousers, once crisp, now hung crumpled and torn.
Yet with his stern blue eyes and his golden hair streaming beautifully, his fluid movements remained ethereal.
Against all intention, he resembled a war god descending into battle.
Regardless, the fact remained that David had flung himself across the ground to stop Deni.
“D-David, Your Grace! How could you…!”
In that moment, Deni’s spirit wavered.
That a Duke would lower himself to this extent, for him.
As strength drained from Deni’s body, David thrust him aside and scrambled rapidly up the Second Grade hill.
Deni gritted his teeth and began climbing the First Grade hill.
It was David who seized the flag first.
The margin was razor-thin.
David hoisted the flag aloft, his refined platinum hair now matted with dust.
“Wooooahhh!”
Deni, too, tore his flag from the ground.
There was no regret in having given his all.
Even the downtrodden Second Grade team cheered.
“This round goes to the First Grade team!”
The next match pitted the Fourth Grade team against the Fifth Grade.
The victorious Fourth Grade team would face the Third Grade—Maurice Arno.
Maurice, unlike the clumsy form he had shown in Swordsmanship, darted like a flying squirrel and claimed victory.
The final match was David versus Maurice.
From the start, they were evenly matched.
“Aaaahhh!”
“Ha!”
David charged forward like the wind, and Maurice dodged with the speed of an arrow. But David twisted quickly and shoved him back.
“Ugh!”
As Maurice staggered, David scrambled toward the Grade 3 Hill.
“No, you don’t!”
Maurice quickly began climbing the Hill as well.
But the hill Maurice had climbed was not the Grade 1 Hill.
“We can’t let you take our flag!”
He had scrambled up the same Grade 3 Hill and thrown himself at David.
“Let go of me!”
The moment David wrenched his body, both men slid down the Hill together.
Seizing the gap, Maurice quickly climbed toward the Grade 1 Hill.
David began climbing the Grade 3 Hill right in front of him again.
It was sheer determination.
Both men reached the flag almost simultaneously.
It was a battle of flying dirt.
But victory belonged to Maurice, who had been just a fraction faster.
“Wooooaaaa!”
“Three cheers for Grade 3!”
Shouts rang out at the unexpected victory of Grade 3.
David couldn’t help but acknowledge it.
‘Maurice is something else.’
He brushed back his sweat-damp blond hair and let out a quiet laugh.
It had been a long time since he’d had such an unusual and entertaining match.
“The pre-tournament warm-up game, Capture the Flag, is won by Grade 3!”
After the game ended, the participants tidied themselves and filed into the circular Arena one by one.
It was clear that after playing a round, the tension had eased from their faces.
But it wouldn’t last long.
Fifty-four seats were arranged in the center of the circular Arena.
The moment the participants saw the numbers attached to each seat, they tensed up again.
“Roughly half of us are dropping out.”
“There’s no Loser’s Bracket?”
The seats were arranged from bottom to top for positions eleven through fifty-four.
But from position ten down to one, they were placed in a central row—in large, ornate seats that made anyone think, ‘These people must be ranked high.’
The rankings also increased in order from the sides toward the center.
The participants, influenced by the game from moments before, gathered in small groups by Grade in the waiting area without anyone telling them to.
Today, the judges’ bench was positioned right in front of the waiting area.
“Everyone, the day of the Ranking Announcement Ceremony has finally arrived! You’ve all been waiting, haven’t you?”
“Yes… we have.”
Trembling voices could be heard throughout the space.
“I’m a bit disappointed.”
Ines murmured quietly as well.
Amont stared silently at the waiting area.
Mila’s hands were clasped tightly together, her eyes squeezed shut as though more nervous than anyone.
It was Edit who was announcing the rankings.
For a survival program, the Ranking Announcement Ceremony was relatively quick.
Of the hundred participants, only about half were memorable.
She had made the quick decision to move fast, reasoning that dragging along the other half would be counterproductive.
“Then, without further delay, I’ll begin announcing the rankings! First, position fifty-three!”
Skipping position fifty-four, the announcements began from position fifty-three.
The participant called for position fifty-three stood up abruptly, covering their mouth with both hands as if they couldn’t believe it.
Soon after, the next positions were called in turn.
The lower rankings went by quickly.
Once the twenties were reached, the atmosphere changed sharply.
Participants who apparently thought they had no chance visibly grew despondent.
Deni looked at the seat next to him.
Pavel, who always wore a bright smile, had his eyes closed and was praying earnestly.
Deni was about to pat Pavel’s shoulder when he realized his own palm was slick with sweat and froze.
“Position twenty-six, Killian!”
When a Grade 4 participant was called, Kusto’s shoulders tensed.
‘Not this time either.’
He’d expected as much, yet something gnawed at him anyway.
He didn’t need a high rank—he just wished he’d survived, just held on.
It wasn’t only because of his promise to the Crown Princess.
He simply wanted to savor this Cartamen a little longer.
No, not merely savor it—he wanted to last as long as possible.
Kusto’s heart thundered in his chest.
That he could tremble like this over survival in a game he’d thought of as mere gambling with life stakes—it shook him.
Even so, the rankings pressed relentlessly onward.
“Fifteenth place, famous for the Whip he received from his master: Pierre!”
“Thirteenth place, excelling not only as the Academy’s top student but also proving himself in Cartamen: Olivier!”
The participants filed toward the center stage one by one, accepting congratulations from those around them.
As nearby seats emptied rapidly, even Maurice—who always carried himself with such ease—felt his chest tighten.
His stepmother’s voice echoed through his mind.
“Maurice competing in Cartamen? Let him go. He’s brought shame to this house, and the Guildmaster will surely strip him of his heir’s position anyway.”
He recalled the mockery of his half-siblings, much closer in age, and his father’s cold dismissal of his mother.
‘I can’t fall here. Please, please…….’
“He’s brought laughter to many. Eleventh place, Maurice Arnaud!”
“!”
“Maurice!”
“You did it!”
Maurice’s eyes snapped open.
Those around him embraced him, cheering as if his victory were their own.
Though most of the lower-ranked participants hadn’t yet been called, they celebrated even more wildly.
Maurice made his way to the stage in a daze, and only when he sat did a smile cross his face.
‘Father, Mother. I wish you could see this.’
Kusto watched Maurice’s clenched fists with something like envy in his eyes.
He’d never envied the wealthy or the powerful—not once.
‘Was it too much to hope…….’
Now only the top ten remained.
There was no chance he’d be called at such a high rank.
‘But I gave it everything. That should be…….’
“Tenth place, the participant who astounded us all from the very first broadcast with his Bare-Handed Combat: Kusto!”
‘……It can’t be real!’
Kusto shot to his feet.

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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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