The two horses and two knights are going faster and faster.
The huge body of the war horse and the heavy vest on it, as well as the huge weight of the knights and their armor, made the center of the arena rumble with a dull sound of horse hooves, and many spectators felt that their hearts were beating with the rhythmic sound. Horse hooves beat together.
"They leveled the lances!"
I saw the two competing knights in unison flattening the spears in their hands, holding the tail of the spear handle under their armpits, controlling their close partners under their crotches, slightly adjusting the direction of the spear heads, hoping After being able to hit the opponent, he can still escape intact.
Almost everyone held their breath at the same time, staring intently at the two swift figures, for fear of missing the climax and most exciting scene.
"Crack!"
Accompanied by a huge sound of the spear breaking, the place where the two men and two horses met bloomed with gorgeous fireworks composed of sawdust.
"No!" "Oh!" Exclaims and shouts of excitement sounded almost at the same time.
The figure with the bright rose pattern handkerchief tied around his waist seemed to have been hit by an irresistible force, and his whole body leaned forward feebly. Looking closely, he had a broken spear stuck in his shoulder.
"Oh, God!"
The current tourney does not pay more attention to the spectacle and the lives of the contestants as it did in the high and late Middle Ages. This is a simulated war. The weapons used are all sharp and edged weapons used on the battlefield in peacetime, rather than the later specially designed weapons. A blunt weapon prepared for the tournament.
In addition, the technology of forging plate armor has not yet appeared. The chain armor of knights can protect against conventional slashing attacks with swords and ordinary thrusting attacks with spears. However, when encountering such a high-speed situation as just now, It is basically difficult to resist the thrust of the spear.
"Mr. Kyle!"
In the aristocratic wooden auditorium, a young girl cried so hard that she wiped the salty tears that kept pouring out of her eyes with another rose-patterned handkerchief that was exactly the same as Sir Kyle's waist.
The other knight, who was the victor, was enjoying the cheers of the audience, the honor he had won, and the winking looks from the young noble ladies who admired him.
"Sir Kyle's horse did not run in a straight line, and deviated somewhat from the direction in which his opponent was riding. He did not want to make a fool of himself by passing by his opponent for his own reasons, but he was a little impatient, and the hand holding the shield showed a flaw. This That's why his opponent thrust a spear into his shoulder instead of his shield." Regel held his chin and squinted at the center of the field, talking to himself, trying to learn some lessons from it. .
Sir Kyle's spear was still intact and fell weakly on the grass not far from the meeting point. At this time, he was being laughed at and ridiculed by people.
"Hey, that Knight of Kel was so tall and mighty in many bards' songs, but today it seems like nothing more than that. He turned out to be a loser who couldn't even wipe his opponent's clothes with his lance," said a mouthful The old man with rotten teeth pinched his nose and blew it, then wiped the yellow-green snot on the wooden fence beside the arena. "God knows if it is true that people say he is a kind-hearted person who protects the weak?"
"Who knows, everyone is dead anyway," a mustachioed businessman wearing a linen robe with a strong smell of sweat scratched his head next to the old man nonchalantly, "Sir Abbot is the final winner, at least he There is no doubt that the stories are true."
In this era of the jungle, people admire the strong and despise the weak. Except for the loser's relatives and friends, no one cares about the fate of the loser, and no one cares about whether they live or die. Simon couldn't help but think of what his ancestors often said, the winner is the king and the loser is the bandit.
"Pity." Simon shook his head and sighed, looking at the solemn and grieving servants of Sir Kyle who came over to comfort the horses and moved Sir Kyle's warm body away, leaving a frightening amount of fresh blood on the ground.
"Everyone can see it. Congratulations to Sir Abbot for winning the final victory! The next people to participate in the knight's one-on-one competition are Sir Grobber from the Principality of Swabia and Sir Alger from the distant Principality of Normandy!" Chubby The royal herald spoke loudly, and his fat chin trembled.
"What, Sir Grobber!?" Regel, who was beside Simon, was flushed, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets, staring at the familiar figure who entered from the right side of the arena.
"Who? The knight of the Duke of Swabia who had an enmity with us in the tavern?" Simon had almost forgotten about this incident, but he saw Sir Grobber's exquisite open-faced helmet. The domineering face in his eyes instantly brought back the scene beside the wooden stairs of the tavern that day.
"snort."
Sir Grobber, who was originally smiling, suddenly turned serious when he saw his opponent, Sir Alger. His face looked as stinky as if someone owed him one hundred thousand Denier silver coins.
"It seems that the two of them have a feud, which is interesting." Simon stroked his chin and looked at Sir Alger, who also had an unhappy look on his face.
Both knights are somewhat famous. The audience on the sidelines cheered for the knights they supported, while the girls in the front row of the noble stands frantically waved their scarves at their favorite knights, trying to attract attention.
According to past practice, when the two knights passed by each other on horseback, the elegant-looking Sir Alger extended his hand reluctantly, but the disgusted Sir Grobber still held it tightly. Holding the reins, he had no intention of extending his hand to shake Sir Alger's hand.
"Hush!"
The noisy auditorium burst into boos. Sir Alger's hand froze in mid-air and brushed against Sir Grobber's shoulder armor. It was extremely embarrassing.
Sir Alger's brows couldn't help but look a little angry.
"Dear Sir Grobber, we just had a small experience that was unpleasant for both of us, but there is no need for you to make such a fuss or even lose the most basic etiquette, right?" Sir Alger turned around and faced Gerber. cried Sir Robert.
"I have nothing else to say, bastard, you are not worthy of shaking hands with me. Instead of shaking hands with you, I would rather shake hands with Satan." Sir Grobber didn't even turn his head, and his arrogant voice came to Sir Alger faintly. in the ears.
"Okay, we'll see, bah!" Sir Alger turned his face completely, spitting thick phlegm at Sir Grobber's back to express his disdain, and then quickly rode his beloved horse back to his entrance seat, starting from He took off the shield with his family's crest on his back, and took a brand new green-painted lance from the attendant's hand.
"It's started, it's started! Come on, Sir Alger, try to kill this idiot Grobo with a spear!" Regel completely ignored his image and stood up, shouting like the civilian audience under the wooden stands. , which shows how much he hates this arrogant knight who once humiliated him severely.
"Donglong, donglong..."
There was another familiar sound of horse hooves, and the distance between the two knights was getting closer and closer. Almost everyone's hearts were in suspense. Who won and who lost would be revealed in the next second.
"Bang!" "Crack!"
The sound of a huge shield being hit, the huge snapping of a lance, the flying wood chips, and the knight lying on his back all strongly impacted the vision and hearing of every audience.
The knight who still stood firm on his horse rushed out with a broken spear in his hand, but the coat of arms on his shield was the last thing Regel wanted to see.
"What the hell!" Regel sighed, sitting down like a deflated ball.
"Wow!"
A burst of enthusiastic cheers broke out from the auditorium on the sidelines, and many townspeople holding Sir Grobber's victory rags in their hands even jumped up excitedly.
But that's not all. What happened next was beyond everyone's expectations.
Sir Grobber threw away the broken spear, clamped the horse's belly hard, and sprinted at full speed towards Sir Alger, who was lying on the grass and was smashed to pieces.
"Oh God!" Some timid people couldn't help but cover their eyes, unwilling to see this cruel scene.
"puff!"
The combined weight of the armored horse and the knight it carried was very heavy. The thick horseshoes nailed with horseshoes kicked hard on Sir Alger's chest. The strong but soft The chain mail was completely unable to stop this heavy blow.
Sir Alger's originally closed eyes suddenly opened and widened, filled with indescribable surprise and anger and unwillingness.
"Ahem!"
After being trampled in this way, blood flowed from the corner of Sir Alger's mouth. He covered his chest with one hand, and the other hand pointed tremblingly at Sir Grobber, who looked relieved, but he was so depressed that he couldn't say a word. come out.
After a while, the weak Sir Alger seemed to have been drained of all his strength and life force, and could no longer move.
"Well done, that's how you should do it! Trample him to death, trample him to death!" The rude townspeople, who had been suppressed for a long time, enjoyed the violent visual feast in front of them. This was a wonderful thing that they would never see in their boring days. The scene screamed heartbreakingly.
"Oh my God, it's so cruel. You've obviously won the game, why are you still doing this?" Many neutral townspeople were puzzled, but Sir Alger's failure was an established fact, and they had no intention of doing so. What a big deal, so I just looked at it all numbly.
"You damn bloodthirsty demon, vengeful ghoul, you should go to hell!" Some townspeople who felt strongly uncomfortable cursed loudly, facing Gro who was riding around with a relaxed expression on his face. Sir Peter made a booing gesture and spat.
"Scum!" Simon frowned and clenched his fists to defend poor Sir Alger.
