On the fifth day of the Skyreach Tournament, the morning glow had just dispersed. The orange-yellow sun hung lazily in the sky, casting gentle light across the arena outside the city.
Banners fluttered across the arena, and the crowd was a deafening roar. Outside the arena's fences, many attendants and servants held aloft all manner of flags, large and small. Some bore the emblems of noble houses, immediately revealing their owners' surnames, while others were knights' personal designs, bizarre and varied, impossible to recognize them all. A high-quality band played before the main stand, while singers and street performers mingled with the crowd, performing.
The knights leaned against the inner side of the arena fence, waiting for the signal to start. Dornish team tournaments skipped mounted combat entirely, beginning directly with foot battles. William and Erren had therefore foregone heavy cavalry plate armor, leaving their chainmail undergarments exposed. They stood near the side of the main stand, easily able to wave at the young ladies in the stands.
"There are so many people," Erren said loudly over the noise.
Over a hundred knights were already in the arena, with more arriving intermittently. Their expressions varied—some relaxed, whispering jokes to companions; others solemn; some visibly excited.
"Yes," William replied, glancing around. "And I think we're a bit conspicuous."
Most of Dornish lands were harsh deserts under blazing sun, shaping their people into hardy and resilient individuals. They preferred muted gold and red for clothing, often decorating with bright copper plates. Most Dornish knights wore red armor, densely studded with copper plates on the shoulders and chest, catching the sunlight brilliantly while possibly adding some protection. Many helmets featured a high copper disc, giving a primitive yet imposing look. William and Erren, in their dull gray chainmail, stood out sharply.
William spotted fully armored Ulwyck, and the two waved from a distance. He then noticed the Darkstar, clad in black armor, accompanied by several knights also in black.
Their eyes met—William smiled, the Darkstar remained sullen—and then each looked away.
A harsh trumpet blast echoed from the main stand: the highlight of the tournament, the team combat, was about to begin. The crowd surged, jostling to find a better view.
William glanced back at the high stands. The Fowler twins and Nymeria waved, and he returned the gesture. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Red Viper seemingly watching him, so he saluted in return.
"Watch out! The match's starting!" Erren shouted, charging toward a small, wiry Dornish knight.
William smacked his forehead—hadn't they agreed yesterday to cover each other? No time to scold, he swung his sword to block a spear thrust.
Though chaotic, the knights actually displayed some coordination, pairing off rather than engaging in a total free-for-all. Some small teams had clearly planned moves, acting collectively at the start. Others, not being naive, formed temporary squads to resist these small groups; no one waited to be picked off. Knights who fell were often avoided by others, leaving clear space, while servants ran in to carry the incapacitated away.
William moved through the crowd with ease, dodging and retreating, impossible to catch one-on-one. Even when surrounded, he opened gaps and escaped, avoiding prolonged combat. He saved Erren twice from being surrounded, but soon Erren was trapped again. This time, William couldn't reach him; he could only watch as Erren was struck down by multiple attacks, later carried out by servants.
Amid the audience's shouts, cheers, encouragement, and curses, fewer and fewer knights remained standing. William kept an eye on the Darkstar's small squad, all in black armor, coordinated and disciplined. When only about ten remained on the field, this five-man team became a decisive force.
William blocked a sword swing from one knight, shouting, "Stop fighting each other! Let's take that squad together, or we'll all be finished!"
The Dornish knight shouted back angrily, "Forget your damn squad, I'm taking you out first!" and launched a fierce attack.
William dodged and countered, using a gap to strike him down. Fortunately, the other three Dornish knights understood the need to unite against the Darkstar's squad; though disadvantaged, they held on. William rushed to help, only for a spear to lunge at him, the knight shouting, "Another one! Watch out!"
William sidestepped. "We're on the same side."
The reply came in swords and spears.
Caught in a three-way clash, William had no choice but to dodge the trio while attacking the Darkstar's squad. After a chaotic battle, the three-man group was defeated in frustration. William then struck down two black-armored knights, leaving four on the field—him against three.
In the stands, Jeyne and Jennelyn hugged each other tightly. "Lady Nymeria, it looks like things aren't going well for William."
Nymeria smiled indifferently but comforted the twins, "If the story of Ten Mile Town is true, that's four against two hundred. Have faith in him."
The twins still looked uneasy. "But is that true? Maybe the singers exaggerated?"
From the front row, the Red Viper seemed intrigued by the topic, adding with a smile, "No need to worry about this Magic Knight. See? He hasn't been using much effort so far." His tone was unreadable—was it praise or mockery?
The twins' eyes lit up. "Prince, do you think William can beat the Darkstar?"
The Red Viper smiled but didn't answer, turning back to watch the battle.
Nymeria had been meaning to ask him something. She leaned close to his ear. "Father, it seems you've been keeping an eye on him."
"Ah, just a friend asked me to watch this person for him," the Red Viper replied, not looking at Nymeria, instead exchanging a knowing smile with Ellaria beside him.
Nymeria nodded.
In the arena, the four stood off for a moment before the crowd began to roar. Someone shouted something about a Magic Knight and Ten Mile Town. William had originally intended not to make a sensational display, but he also didn't want to be underestimated. Thinking it over, he launched straight at the Darkstar.
The three opponents moved in perfect coordination. The Darkstar parried William's strikes while the other two attempted to flank him from left and right. But William moved like the wind, his steps clever and unpredictable, preventing them from forming a true encirclement. One against three, he held his ground, striking fast as lightning with heavy, forceful sword techniques. Each opponent facing him directly ended up struggling to keep up. If the Darkstar hadn't been able to match William's speed, the other two would likely have been taken down already. After this probing round, the four faced off again, having swapped positions.
"This Darkstar's no slouch—he might be even tougher than Rosso," William thought, frowning. The trouble was that the two allies he'd called on were also formidable, including the burly-faced Malor. With their interference, defeating the Darkstar quickly wasn't going to be easy.
William found the situation tricky, while the three on the opposing side felt a storm of shock—their opponent's strength far exceeded expectations.
The crowd outside erupted with cheers, deafening and overwhelming. William's previous offensive had struck like a violent storm, igniting the spectators' passions. The exuberant Dornish loved this kind of intense, high-octane combat.
Amid the roaring, the Darkstar coughed twice and lunged forward, swinging his greatsword downward. The other two followed, spear and sword in a coordinated pincer attack. The strikes posed little threat to William; he planned to sidestep two steps, evade the Darkstar, and strike at the annoying Malor.
But unexpectedly, the Darkstar accelerated. He had apparently been hiding his true speed, causing William to misjudge him. With full force now unleashed, William was momentarily caught off guard. He managed to block the Darkstar but, for the first time, found himself caught in a three-person triangular trap.
Trapped, William didn't panic. He still had "Healing," so a few minor injuries wouldn't stop him from breaking through. He also had "Recovery," and even if the fight dragged on, he was confident he could endure to the end. With a grin, he even gave the Darkstar a thumbs-up—but the man didn't acknowledge it, shouting instead, "Die!" The three struck simultaneously from different angles.
This full-spectrum, no-angle attack couldn't be entirely dodged. William, prepared for this, sidestepped the Darkstar and blocked Malor's spear. Feeling the weapon graze him, his body recoiled like a spring. "Ssshh!" The spear scraped across William's waist, tearing a deep cut in his otherwise sturdy chainmail. Just as Malor's triangular face broke into a smug smile, William pivoted and slammed an elbow, akin to a Muay Thai strike, into his face. Blood spurted, and Malor fell backward, unconscious, before hitting the ground.
The battlefield shifted again. The Darkstar's trio had inflicted minor injuries on William, but lost one of their own. The previous three-on-one encounter had only just been balanced; now, with one down, most spectators assumed the remaining two would soon fall.
The Darkstar looked at the spear lying not far in front of him. A streak of crimson stained the deep-blue blade. He laughed maniacally. "Kid, you're finished!"