At that moment, a different White Knight—one less arrogant than the first—spoke hesitantly, looking flustered.
“Y-Your Majesty! But attacking one person with two knights is a severe violation of chivalry!"

Finally, someone sane had appeared. Of course, it was a serious breach of chivalry. I nodded, silently applauding the White Knight’s somewhat sensible statement. It wouldn’t make much of a difference, though.
"Oh? And why do you think so?" the king asked, his tone tinged with amusement.

“Well, given the overwhelming odds of victory..."
“He himself has expressed his desire to face both at once.”
“It could be mere bravado!”

The king’s brow furrowed slightly, and the White Knight flinched at the sight. It was as good as a signal to stop arguing. The king clearly wanted to see this two-against-one duel. Preferably with the Black Knight dead by the end of it.
“In that case, let me make a promise," the king declared.
“A promise, Your Majesty...? What kind?”
“If that Black Knight wins this match, I shall name him the victor outright!”

The crowd buzzed with excitement, soon breaking into cheers. Hungry for entertainment, their eyes reddened with anticipation. They chanted the king’s name, reveling in his declaration.
“Ridiculous,” I muttered.
“I agree,” Gelbart said, his face stiff beside me.

“It seems someone is eager to stir up trouble,” I remarked.
“It does look that way,” he replied.
‘So this is how they plan to liven up the dull proceedings thus far,’ I thought.

When the Black Knight finally nodded, the duel began. A two-on-one joust in the deadly arena of the coliseum, where lives often ended. I rubbed my eyes, feeling a sense of dread. I could already guess the outcome.

The Black Knight adjusted his black lance as he stood at his mark, facing the two White Knights on the other side. The lances, made of wood, shattered easily, creating a dramatic visual of splintering fragments flying through the air.

However, such dramatic splinters often found their way between helmets, leading to fatal injuries.

The pounding of hooves echoed as the three knights took their positions. The long straight fence between them would guide their charges as they aimed to unseat their opponents or shatter their lances.
‘Someone’s going to die,’ I thought grimly, convinced of the inevitability of the outcome.

Then, the three knights began their charge. The horses’ hooves kicked up dust as they sped across the arena.

The Black Knight held a shield in his left hand and his lance in his right. He raised the shield, his movements akin to a knight charging headlong into a tidal wave. His control of the horse, his fluid motions in the saddle—everything about him was different from an ordinary rider.

The two White Knights closed in, lances raised. At this rate, the Black Knight’s helmet would take a direct hit. If that happened, he would be defenseless against the second knight’s attack and would lose his life.

Just as the king undoubtedly hoped. But the Black Knight raised his shield higher. In the instant they passed each other, he dodged the lance on his left and slammed his shield down, shattering the helmet of the White Knight on that side.

The sheer force was astonishing.
“Urgh!”
The White Knight fell from his horse with a groan. The Black Knight turned his horse around and headed back down the course.
“Hyaah!”

The remaining White Knight gave chase. His speed was reckless, almost enough to make him crash into the fence, but his target was the Black Knight directly ahead. At that velocity, death would be inevitable if they collided.

However, the Black Knight suddenly turned his horse, bringing it to a halt. He raised his lance horizontally, aiming directly at the oncoming White Knight’s helmet.

“Waaaaaah!”
The tension in the arena was palpable. The audience screamed with excitement as the knights prepared for their final clash.

‘One of them is going to die.’ It was clear. I watched the battle unfold with a grave expression.

Either the Black Knight would win or lose his life. If he chose to dodge, the charging White Knight would surely die instead.

The king’s face lit up with twisted glee. But the Black Knight stood his ground, leaning forward in anticipation. When they finally crossed paths, their lances struck.

CRACK!
In a split-second move, the Black Knight deflected the White Knight’s lance with his shield, shattering it. He used the brief opening to drive his own lance into the opponent’s weapon, breaking it as well.

The White Knight’s horse reared, panicked.
“Neighhh!”

Its rider was thrown to the ground. Fortunately, he didn’t appear to be dead. But if the Black Knight had aimed for his helmet instead of his lance, he would undoubtedly have been killed.

The Black Knight had initially aimed for the helmet but deliberately redirected his attack.

The audience was stunned, momentarily speechless. It had been a near-supernatural display, something they hadn’t expected in a match between novice knights. Murmurs rippled through the crowd before erupting into deafening cheers.
“Waaaaaah!”
“Black Knight! Black Knight! Black Knight!”

The Black Knight’s name echoed throughout the arena. Even the stunned referee eventually found his voice.
“...The victor is—!”
“Waaaaah! Black Knight! Black Knight!”
“The Black Knight! And the champion as well!”
“Waaaaah!”

I turned to see the king’s face harden. The tournament had ended without a single death, something even I hadn’t anticipated.

The Black Knight rode a lap around the coliseum, his horse prancing proudly. Then, he removed his helmet and tossed it aside. Midnight-blue hair, cropped short, spilled out as the helmet soared into the crowd, where a frenzy broke out to catch it.