Vote for Your Knight! - Chapter 3

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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 3
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“Pah-ha-ha-ha!”
The lord of Pius burst into derisive laughter.
In his hand was a leaflet for the Kartamen competition that his subordinates had brought him.
“Kartamen, no less! Those wretches think they can hold such a grand tournament?”
On top of that, the Imperial Princess had come all the way here to recruit him personally.
‘By now she must be furious at being stood up, having a fit.’
But what of it?
There was no chance the Imperial Princess would come to the Execution Ground just to nab a single lord.
‘She’ll slink home with her pride wounded, crying to herself.’
The thought alone warmed his chest with satisfaction.
It was his vengeance for the Emperor’s recent command to observe the Imperial Law.
‘How dare he order me, master of these seas, to manage the Harbor according to law?’
He’d planned to teach all such insolent fools a lesson.
The execution he was about to conduct was part of that plan.
‘A slave-born wretch who somehow became a monster capable of capturing over a dozen pirates — a waste, I’ll admit.’
But now was the time to make an example.
The lord gazed at the black-haired condemned man.
A sturdy frame, bronzed and muscular.
Long arms and legs corded with thick muscle.
Bound to the great Wheel upon the platform, yet so strikingly handsome that the eye kept wandering to him.
Only the distinct scars etched across his body spoke of how grueling his life had been.
‘If you want to kill him, just get on with it. Quit your dirty prattling.’
The man thought to himself.
This man, who showed no fear of death, was a slave-born Mercenary.
Employed by the lord of Pius to clear out Pirates.
He was sentenced to death for releasing all the hostages that had been captured by the Pirates, rather than dragging them to the lord’s castle.
‘It’s absurd. Not even enemies — he freed subjects of the lord’s own domain, and for that they execute him?’
The man let out a bitter laugh.
‘Well, I did disobey the lord’s command.’
He had ordered him to quietly bring the hostages back so he could make them his own Slaves.
But the man defied the protests of his fellow soldiers and freed all the hostages.
‘Persuading them was easy enough.’
Physical persuasion(?) did the trick.
He knew what kind of retaliation that ill-tempered lord would unleash, yet the man did as he pleased.
‘It wasn’t out of pity or principle.’
It was simply because his own childhood came flooding back.
“Thank you so much for saving me and my young granddaughter from those bandits. I swear I’ll repay this debt—— Argh!”
Even now, when he closed his eyes, he could feel his grandfather’s warm blood coating his face.
“Foolish old man. Did you think we came to save you?”
“We simply took a person we could sell into slavery from other rival groups. Ha-ha!”
“But this little brat should fetch us a decent price.”
He had lost his grandfather to the man he’d believed was a savior, and then he himself was sold into slavery.
The hostages trapped with the Pirates had been no different.
They looked at him as if he were a benefactor bringing them freedom.
They breathed sighs of relief, shed tears of gratitude, and bowed repeatedly in thanks.
He couldn’t bear to betray their hopes.
He couldn’t stand watching the soldiers of Pius snicker and mock them.
So he had resolved to act.
‘I didn’t expect to be falsely accused of colluding with Pirates, much less sentenced to death for it.’
The man let out an incredulous chuckle.
The infuriated lord shrieked.
“That, that bastard! Execute him at once!”
The executioner hefted the enormous Hammer.
With it, he would smash the man’s limbs and then push the Wheel into the sea.
That was the moment.
Bang!
The man tore his arm free from its bonds on the Wheel through sheer force.
By a hair’s breadth, the hammer crashed down into the space where the man’s arm had been.
As cracks spider-webbed across the Wheel, the man tensed his body and shattered it to pieces.
The massive, thick Wheel tumbled across the ground, and the Execution Ground erupted in screams.
The man paid no mind, vaulting down among the onlookers.
“What—what are you doing! Seize him, quickly!”
The lord shouted.
The executioner and soldiers lunged at the man. But he brought them down with ease.
‘We barely captured him with dozens of soldiers in a coordinated assault, and now he’s going to escape again!’
The lord flicked his eyes toward a subordinate at his side.
The subordinate dragged a small child up from among the crowd and pressed a blade to the child’s throat.
“No—no! Ahhh!”
At the child’s cries, the man lifted his head.
“Stop right there, or I’ll kill this innocent child in your place!”
The lord bellowed.
‘So this lord thinks his own subjects’ lives are worth less than ants.’
He really will kill that child.
‘But what’s that to me?’
He’d already helped enough people—did he really have to stake his life for another?
That’s what he thought, yet his feet wouldn’t move.
By then, the soldiers had ringed him in.
‘Damn it.’
The man laughed—a bitter, soundless “hah”—and raised both hands.
At once, the soldiers rushed forward and bound him tightly.
The lord cried out.
“Beat that insolent dog senseless with hammers!”
He meant to make the death a slow one.
The man was hurled onto the execution platform, still bound. Above him, the shadow of a hammer fell dark and heavy.
In that moment, the frightened child’s eyes met his.
The man smiled—a grin meant to reassure her.
Whoosh!
At that instant, the hammer descended toward him.
“Stop!”
Then it happened.
A sharp voice rang out from somewhere, and the hammer froze inches from the man’s face.
Though the voice was young, something in its tone made even the executioner feel, without knowing why, that he should obey.
The lord, who had flinched, collected himself and bellowed.
“What are you doing? Kill him already!”
“But wouldn’t it be a waste to kill him like this?”
“A waste? What do you—agh!”
The lord, who had been answering irritably, gasped in shock.
The voice’s owner had somehow drawn close and now stood beside him, smiling gently.
It was the Crown Princess Edith.
“Y-your Highness! How did you…!”
“You claimed to have such urgent business that you’d stand up the Crown Princess herself, so I came to see.”
“But here…!”
“A proper trial was held before the execution, yes?”
“…Pardon?”
At Edith’s sharp question, the lord went rigid.
Of course there had been no proper trial.
Edith smiled thinly.
“No trial? Then it seems additional investigation is warranted.”
“This is a matter of Pius, my lady! The man colluded with Pirates, he did!”
“And your evidence?”
“I… the evidence…”
It didn’t come to him.
In this land, he’d never needed to prepare such things carefully—the lord’s word had always been law.
Edith regarded him coldly.
“The Pardon granted by the Emperor and his heir holds throughout the Imperial realm.”
“Pardon?”
“That man—I’m pardoning him.”
“Your Highness!”
The lord leaned close, his voice urgent.
“You came to recruit me into Kartamen, didn’t you? I’ve lost. I’ll do whatever you ask…….”
“I don’t need you anymore.”
Edith spoke with cool indifference.
“I found an S-rank Rough Stone. Why would I bother with a C-grade knockoff?”
* * *
Kusto.
Once a slave. Minutes ago, a man condemned to death.
‘She’s freeing me. Just like that?’
The princess herself is granting me a pardon?
Bewilderment outweighed joy.
His life had always been a gauntlet of hardship.
Fortune didn’t visit men like him.
He studied the princess waiting for him in the near distance.
A girl with hair the color of honey and gold.
Her cheeks, not yet entirely free of youth’s roundness, carried a rosy flush.
Objectively speaking, she was undeniably lovely and endearing.
Her clothes were plain and comfortable—those of someone who’d traveled far—yet radiated an unmistakable vitality and grace that couldn’t be concealed.
Beside her stood a man draped entirely in robes.
His broad, solid build and the sword at his hip marked him as the princess’s personal guard.
‘She wants something from me. She has to.’
Kusto approached her, wariness etched across his face.
“I hear you’ve pardoned me. Thank you.”
Edith observed the man who bowed so deeply with keen attention.
‘Those eyes are cold as ice. That expression hard as stone.’
But beneath it lay the face of a boy.
“Lift your head.”
The man with that arresting face raised his gaze, and his eyes shone with molten gold.
‘Burnished bronze skin and golden eyes set within it—this is absolutely exquisite.’
And that display of strength she’d witnessed at the Execution Ground moments ago!
The way he’d cast trained soldiers aside as though they were nothing!
Edith barely restrained the urge to cover her mouth with her hand, forcing herself to glance up at Dmitri instead.
He seemed to share her exact thoughts.
‘This one’s the real prize.’
“Then tell me the condition of my pardon.”
Kusto spoke flatly, even as something inside him thrilled with delight.
Edith blinked in surprise.
“You already knew I didn’t pardon you without expecting something in return?”
Now it was Kusto’s turn to be taken aback.
“Isn’t that usually when people say, ‘I didn’t pardon you expecting anything in return’?”
“That would just be a lie, and we both know it.”
“True enough.”
This princess was disarmingly honest.
Edith extended her hand first to the hesitant Kusto.
“Before anything else, let’s introduce ourselves properly. I’m Edith, the princess who may well become your benefactor.”
Kusto stared at her pale, delicate hand.
“Are you asking me to shake hands right now?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“I’m of slave origin.”
“What does that matter? Come on, shake my hand. My arm’s getting tired.”
At Edith’s insistence, Kusto found himself shaking hands with the princess almost without thinking.
There was strength in that small hand.
After they parted, Kusto clenched and unclenched his fist. Uncharacteristically, his palm had grown damp with sweat.
“My name is Kusto.”
“It’s a fine name.”
“But why did you say you might become my benefactor? Haven’t you already saved my life?”
Then Edith smiled—a fresh, genuine smile.
It sent a chill down Kusto’s spine.
“A pardon can always be revoked.”
“Pardon?”
This was not the development she had anticipated at all.
“You asked what the price would be, didn’t you? It’s that you participate in the knight tournament being held this time — the Kartamen.”
The Kartamen!
Even Kusto, born a slave, had heard of it.
The ultimate goal that all who aspired to knighthood dreamed of from the moment they first gripped a sword.
The name of glory and honor.
The gateway to becoming Di Eques.
“Participate in the Kartamen and become one of the final survivors. If you fail to do so, I will revoke your pardon.”

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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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