The World Dragon's Heir - Chapter 642: Eliminations

Chapter 642: Eliminations

That moment that they had all been waiting for came two thirds of the way down the line.

“First Joust goes to me!” Sir Korath of the Mitfield Royal Order announced.

The crowd stood to cheer for the first man up, drowning out everything as Korath shook the bag and held it out for the man next to him.

Prince Damien of Mitfield reached into the bag and pulled a shining token, then patted his Knight on the shoulder.

“I’m afraid we won’t meet in this round. I am number forty.”

He passed the bag along to the other Royal Order Knights, and then the bag moved to Sir Charles of Cygnia City.

“Number one. The first victory of the day will be mine!”

A Cygnian jousting champion versus a Knight of the Mitfield Royal Order was going to be a difficult match for anyone else to follow. Both of the men were paramount experts in the field, trained since birth, with years of experience.

Many more years, in the case of Sir Charles, who was already past his fortieth birthday.

The bag continued to pass down the line with undiminished enthusiasm. This was only the first round, and there would still be forty-two knights after the first match.

With the order settled, the Knights cleared the field, while Sir Korath and Sir Charles went to mount up.

In the past, the process of getting mounted and settled was a slow one, requiring at least one assistant, or a step stool for the Knights to get into the saddle.

However, with the advent of magitech bringing physical enhancements to everyone with a military background, the process became part of the show.

The Knights put one foot in the stirrup and gracefully tossed themselves into position so that their squires could do the final check of saddles and stirrups, ensuring that everything was in good condition and properly adjusted.

Mechanical horses didn’t need to breathe, and didn’t act up while being equipped, but that didn’t mean that gear didn’t stretch or wear with use, so even between passes, it was critical to thoroughly check every bit of the tack.

Once both horses were checked and the Knights happy with their positioning, the lances were handed over by the squires, and the opponents moved into position at the ends of the arena.

Dominic noticed that both of them were wearing safety glasses under their helmets today, the magical sapphire lensed spectacles that the local Mage Sects were producing.

So, instead of looking away to protect their eyes, both kept their focus locked on their opponent right until impact, and both lances shattered with an impact that rocked both men back in their saddles.

They saluted the Royals and Dominic as they passed, but it was clear that both were rushing back to get another lance, eager to prove that they were not inferior to the other.

One was a Royal chosen young Knight, son of a Duke with an inheritance waiting for him. The other was the son of a landless Knight, a twenty-year veteran of the circuit, and professional jouster.

A generational battle, of sorts.

Again the two charged, making their second of five passes down the course.

Again, the lances exploded, an even paring between two professionals. It was clear that Sir Korath had been underestimated. While he did have a large fandom, as the handsome son of a Duke, he was not considered one of the top few contestants to win the tournament the way that Sir Charles was.

The third pass ended the same, and the tension in the arena was at an all-time high.

If there was no victor after five passes, it would be called a draw, and they would go again in an hour. Enough time for them to rest and strategize.

The match looked like it was going to be a perfect draw as the lances tilted for the fourth time, but at the very last second, Sir Charles shifted his body, thrusting his lance forward with as much force as he could muster, while also shifting the angle of his shield.

Sir Korath’s lance slid off the angled shield and behind the other Knight, while Sir Charles hit him square in the chest plate, exploding the lance and knocking him flat against his horse.

For a second, Korath was stunned, looking at the sky and wondering what went wrong. Then, he recovered, grabbing the pommel of his saddle and getting himself back upright as the mechanical steed came to a stop

His right hand was empty, lance dropped in the commotion. But he knew already that it would be intact when the referee retrieved it.

After taking a few seconds to recover, he waved at the crowd, who cheered for his recovery, then rode back to his end of the lane to get the final lance. He had a minute or two before anyone would start to worry about him, a hard hit always took a bit to recover from.

Fortunately, there was a Larry Troll from the Sands Sect on hand, ready to offer healing or potions if necessary.

Sir Korath shook his head and opened his visor to down a healing potion of his own, and then latched it back shut and had his squire adjust his shield before checking his saddle.

“Good to go, sire.”

Korath took another lance, and focused down the arena at Sir Charles, who was sitting perfectly still, tall and proud in his saddle. The man was the epitome of a tournament knight, not just in skill, but in showmanship.

He didn’t gloat, didn’t return to his end of the lane before Sir Korath had recovered.

It was all about the show to him. But Korath was only down by one lance, and this final tilt could even everything up and send them to a drawing match later in the day.

With a raised lance salute, the pair indicated readiness, and then began down the arena for the final time.

As the lances met, Korath shifted his shield to the centre of his body, trying to drag the lance too far toward the edge of the shield and cause a glancing hit.

But just as his lance crashed into the centre of Sir Charles’ shield, the other man drew his arm back, buying a fraction of a second to adjust, and the second lance landed solidly against Korath’s shield, shattering and giving the first victory of the day to the Cygnian.

“Victor! Sir Charles Whitbury of Cygnia City has won the first match!” The referee declared as the two Knights stopped across from each other.

“Excellent lance work.” Korath congratulated the older man.

“And fine horsemanship. I thought for sure you were going to take a tumble today. That chest hit was a rough one.”

Korath nodded, and the two went their separate ways. Him, to his tent to check his equipment before returning to watch the matches, and Sir Charles to make a pass for the crowd before exiting the stadium, finished for the morning, but advancing to the second round.