His allotted time to recover was too short, but Konrad got a lucky break.
"In the name of House Caine, I yield without a fight," the next champion announced.
That elicited a cheer from the people around him.
A huge relief—and he even forgot to fire up his Isekai Microwave.
But this wasn't his last opponent.
"Well, I won't let my champion yield," another noble yelled, pushing a man forward.
That was the biggest of them, and Konrad was still out of breath, desperate to buy some time.
"All right, but I won this round, so another minute," he breathed.
He needed time to reset his illusions and get ready, too, but—
"Fine. Go, son, grab that amulet from the good count in the meantime," the vassal barked.
Bad news, but not quite.
"What makes you think I'd hand this over?" Count Rolalt scoffed.
His retainers still fanned him since the duel, but his voice remained harsh and firm.
"W-well, it is to stop the kid from cheating," his peer stuttered, frozen in place.
The response was a shallow laugh.
"He didn't cheat," Rolalt slammed his feet. "You saw our duel—or do you claim I helped him cheat, too?! Besides, this artifact is worth more than your entire fief. I'm not giving it away."
While that had to be an exaggeration—or someone scammed the count—Konrad was glad.
The last champion was swinging a mace around as if it were a child's toy.
Out of breath as he was, and without his dirty tricks, Konrad wouldn't have stood a chance.
And even with them, if that brute didn't yield when his blade touched his throat—
"I still demand a fair fight, without magic," the noble yelled.
That was enough for the crowd to start murmuring again.
Konrad could have refused, sure, but the whole point was to get his vassals on his side.
The best course of action was to give in to the pressure. But that would've meant an almost certain loss. He weighed his options, then sighed; one, long, deep breath.
"Fine, no magic, then. We'll have another duel of might, if that helps you sleep better at night."
The crowd—which now had grown rather large—cheered at his decision.
It might've been too early, though.
Now Welf was there, too, with much of the militia and tribesmen. Father Alastair and Stella have also returned from the temple's basement. Would they still celebrate if he lost?
"Time is up, then," Helena announced, waving him closer to the small circle in the middle.
She was all business again, and it didn't seem likely that she'd intervene in his favor.
He dug that grave for himself, raising his adamantite blade once more.
"First one to pass out or yield loses. Last round," the princess said, raising her palm, and—
Konrad followed the motion, spotting something high up in the sky.
"What the hell is that?" he asked, raising his arms to block out the sun, too.
"Already trying a dirty trick?" the noble complained, but followed his gaze regardless.
So did the rest of the crowd, their mouths gaping open.
At first, Konrad only noticed six dots in the air, but now they had grown to a bird's size.
They were still very far, but approached at a stunning speed.
"Welf," he shouted, changing his stance, and looking around for the rest of his men.
They were still all away on their missions, the only caster he could rely on being Stella, the necromancer. The blacksmith pushed through the crowd, keeping his eyes on the sky.
"Wyverns. This will be nasty," he noted, before turning back to the people gathering around.
"What can they do?" Konrad asked, expecting the worst. "Can the temple shield us from them?"
"It depends on how hungry or angry they are," the redhead said. He added something else, too, but Konrad could no longer hear it. A voice inside his head was louder—and all too familiar.
'Don't worry, bossman, it's me, your favorite dragon.'
That dirty leaf—but it made no sense.
There was only one of Maple, and even he knew that wyverns and dragons weren't the same.
He tried to reply on the same telepathic channel, but she was faster.
'No, they're my minions, if you will,' she claimed, pride echoing in her thoughts. 'I let my control slip for a moment there, and they flew way ahead. Sorry, I'll handle this in a moment.'
'Wait,' Konrad finally managed to message back.
The men were already panicking. There was no covering this up.
He might've even had to give away his secret when the dragon revealed herself.
Unless—
'Let them come. How well can you control them?'
He had an idea. These seven duels were to show off his strength, but he was anything but ready for the last one. Wyverns showing up, though—that was the perfect excuse for a delay.
Better yet, if he could 'defeat them'—
'Oh, I can arrange that,' the dragon's thoughts echoed in his mind.
It was a bit scary to think that he couldn't even see her yet, but she already had no problem reading his mind. But he'd complain later. He had a plan to flesh out, and he had to do it fast.
"Everyone, take cover in the temple. I'll handle the beasts," he announced.
His earlier exhaustion was gone in the blink of an eye.
The crowd froze, looking at him like he was a suicidal idiot, but he didn't expect anything less.
He made a show of summoning fire spells out loud.
It was completely unnecessary, but the people saw he was doing something important.
The reality was—he sent another mental message to the dragon.
'On my mark, have them scatter and flee, or I'll scorch their faces.'
'Oh, I already did that to one of them. They can take a beating, bossman,' Maple answered, seeming proud. But also an idiot. The whole point was to make it look as if he defeated them.
Luckily, she could still read his mind and corrected herself.
'Right, right. Sorry. Will do.'
Konrad sighed, summoning a huge fireball.
"Begone, monsters," he shouted. He amplified his voice so that even those who had already fled could hear him. "Halaima and its people are under my protection."
His head echoed with a snort and the dragon's laughter.
It almost broke his concentration.
'Sorry, bossman. That was too corny. But I'm ready when you are. Minions under control.'
He had to talk to that pesky dragon later—but he knew she was right.
For now, he released the fireball. It was large enough to hide the sun, aiming at the center of the wyvern's formation. The beasts could've avoided it without an issue, but they flew straight.
Then—sending a mental mark—he expanded the fireball to resemble an explosion.
Controlling the light as his second nature, he was sure it would blind everyone nearby.
Before the first noble could glance up at the sky again, the wyverns were all gone.
The frightened silence was the next thing to disappear.
The cheering was loud, the crowd rushing out of their cover to celebrate him.
Except one—bowing with all the humility he could master, pleading in a whisper.
"Please, Lord Halstadt, let us yield, too, and put this misunderstanding behind us."
Konrad struggled with suppressing his satisfied smirk, only allowing a shrug to himself.
"Fine," he said. "But don't forget, all champions have to enlist in my men-at-arms now."