From a hired knight to a master of Game of Thrones

The soldier stepped forward quickly and bowed to Sir Keller to report:

"Sir Keller, Knight Don Quixote has arrived to participate in the test."

Sir Keller looked up and his gaze fell on Don Quixote.

His gaze swept from his brand-new chainmail down to the hilt of the longsword beside him, and his brows furrowed slightly.

"Another freeloader has arrived, though he's dressed quite smartly."

His disdain was undisguised.

The knights standing around also chuckled softly.

They can watch the play again.

In the past few days, nearly twenty Free Riders have come to test their skills, but few of them are truly capable; they are all just empty-headed charlatans with fancy moves but no real skills.

Not to mention catching Sir Keller's eye, even these people wouldn't look down on him.

Don Quixote's expression remained unchanged; he bowed slightly and spoke in a steady tone:

"Sir Keller, I am here to serve the Earl, not to be a layabout."

"Being stubborn won't help."

Sir Keller didn't get up, casually kicked the dirt at his feet, and shouted to the side:

"Brennan, you go and exchange a few blows with him!"

"Yes, Sir Keller."

A burly knight stepped forward in response, his bulging arm muscles stretching his heavy, old chainmail taut.

Brennan had just eliminated two Free Riders, and he couldn't help but feel a little smug.

He walked up to Don Quixote, grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and spoke arrogantly:

"Kid, if you know what's good for you, just admit defeat, or you'll end up falling into the mud and looking pathetic."

Don Quixote simply placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and uttered a single word:

"please."

"Hmph, ungrateful!" Brennan was somewhat annoyed.

Soon the two stood in the center of the makeshift training ground, their feet on muddy, filthy ground.

Everyone around turned to look at them.

Brennan gave a low snort.

He then suddenly closed in, and almost simultaneously swung his heavy sword at full power.

call out!

This powerful sword strike carried a faint sound of wind being cut.

Brennan intended to make a good impression on Sir Keller.

and so.

He's going to take down Don Quixote in one fell swoop!

Upon seeing this attack, many of the onlookers instinctively shrank back.

They might not be able to withstand the force of that blow.

...The speed was average, and the offensive was straightforward and clear.

An idea flashed through Don Quixote's mind, and he moved swiftly, deftly dodging the heavy sword's edge.

The heavy sword struck the mud, instantly splashing up a cloud of filth before sinking slightly into the ground.

……it's over.

Taking advantage of Brennan's moment of sheathing his sword, Don Quixote moved with lightning speed to Brennan's side.

He didn't draw his sword, but instead kicked Brennan hard in the waist.

Brennan winced in pain and let out a muffled groan.

The pain in his lower back and abdomen made him freeze, almost causing him to fall.

"asshole!"

He roared and was about to turn around and retaliate.

The metal sword tip was already pressed against his throat.

The icy touch against his skin made him freeze instantly, and he dared not breathe too heavily.

The entire training ground fell silent instantly.

The knights who had been chuckling just moments before stopped laughing, their eyes filled with surprise.

Sir Keller's disdain faded, replaced by a more scrutinizing look:

"Good skills, not just for show, quick reflexes."

Don Quixote sheathed his sword and nodded slightly to Brennan:

"Thank you for your concession."

Brennan's face turned bright red, and he retreated awkwardly to the side, not daring to lift his head.

Sir Keller's gaze swept across the room again, and he called out in a deep voice:

"Jellico, you go!"

"Yes, Sir Keller!"

Jericho's physique was completely different from Brennan's.

Medium build, lean as a leopard.

Although his dark iron chainmail was not brand new, it was polished to a shine, and even the gaps between the clasps were much cleaner than those of the other knights.

He was not holding a heavy sword, but a long, slender rapier.

Jericho walked to the center of the training field, less arrogant than Brennan, and looked at Don Quixote with a wary expression:

"Jellicoe, a cavalry captain from the Seven family!"

Don Quixote nodded and said:

"Don Quixote, a free knight!"

The surroundings became quiet again.

Many of Seven's soldiers straightened up.

Don Quixote's swift and decisive defeat of Brennan caught them off guard, forcing them to abandon their initial contempt.

Sir Keller also looked intently.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The two stared at each other for a moment.

A moment later, Jericho finally moved.

He ducked and darted out like a cheetah, his footsteps making no sound in the mud.

The rapier suddenly thrust straight in, aiming for Don Quixote's throat.

This attack was even harder to defend against than Brennan's greatsword.

The rapier has a thin blade and moves quickly; if you are not careful, you will be stabbed in a vital spot.

Someone nearby gasped softly.

But Don Quixote was faster.

Instead of retreating, he advanced, shifting his feet and drifting half a foot to the left like a willow catkin, avoiding the sharp edge of the rapier.

The blade grazed his chainmail, making a soft, metallic sound.

At the same time, he flicked his right wrist, using his longsword to parry the blade that was thrusting at him again.

"clang!"

With a crisp crack, Jericho felt a numbness in his wrist.

"That was incredibly powerful!"

He was startled and instinctively tried to draw his sword to defend himself.

Don Quixote gave him no chance at all.

With another movement of his feet, he had already circled around to Jericho's side, the cool spine of the sword gently pressed against Jericho's neck.

The force wasn't heavy, but it gave Jericho a sense of impending death.

Jericho froze instantly, his hand, which had been drawing his sword, was forced to stop in mid-air.

He turned to look at Don Quixote's profile, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He considered his rapier speed and reaction speed to be among the best of the Seven City soldiers.

He was easily subdued before he could even withstand three moves from his opponent.

Not only Jericho, but everyone else who witnessed this scene was incredulous.

Don Quixote slightly loosened his wrist, the spine of the sword leaving Jericho's neck, the sheathing motion crisp and clean, the blade retracting into its sheath with only a soft click, as steady as ever:

"Thank you for your concession."

Jericho slowly turned around, looked at the Free Knight before him, and solemnly said:

"Don Quixote Knight, would you have the chance to come and learn from me again?"

Don Quixote laughed:

"Can."

A brief silence fell over the area around the training ground.

But soon, a cry of surprise rang out from the free riders.

The Seven family soldiers were also stunned, still thinking that Captain Jericho would surely dampen the Free Knight's arrogance.

With many thoughts surfacing, the way everyone looked at Don Quixote now showed a more genuine level of approval.

Sir Keller had already risen without anyone noticing, and the scrutiny in his eyes had turned into approval:

"Excellent! Quick reflexes and sharp eyes! Your fundamentals in swordsmanship are very solid!"

As he spoke, Sir Keller walked slowly to the center of the training field, his gaze landing on Don Quixote:

"You have passed the test! From this day forward, you will be a hired knight under the Earl."

Don Quixote bowed deeply.

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Upon hearing this...

Those free knights who failed the test looked at Don Quixote with envy.

The few free knights who passed the test also stared at Don Quixote with solemn expressions.

Although they passed, their performance was far inferior to that of Don Quixote.

Sir Keller paused, still looking at Don Quixote, his gaze sharp:

"Kid, would you like to have a match with me?"

……

PS: (Please recommend and read this!)