Uncle here isn't your average office worker!

"Hey, do you know what you're saying?!" someone shouted, but the messenger simply nodded as if it were perfectly normal.

"Of course I know, surely there's someone here who doesn't know what that means?"

Not joining any knightly order, not accepting any sponsorship, and not allying with any company. In contemporary knightly competitions, these three standards seem like utterly ridiculous jokes. Not joining a knightly order means rejecting the protection and help of fellow knights; not accepting any sponsorship means rejecting capital investment; and not allying with any company means wanting to break the rules and take it all for yourself.

To attempt to win under these circumstances is tantamount to openly defying the pioneers of modern knightly competitions—the Commercial Federation. It's an insult, dismissing their elaborate schemes for manipulating the competitions as a joke, and provoking the insignificance of their financial power. It's less a show of disrespect and more a relentless slap in the face to the Commercial Federation! It's a delusional fantasy with no chance of a good outcome!

But even though this statement sounds so far-fetched, no one dares to underestimate this declaration.

Because it is not impossible; it has been achieved before! And that person was a descendant of the heroes of the Kazimierz War, the Pegasus of the Nearl family, whose light pierced the long night and whose power was unstoppable—the Radiant Knight Margaret Nearl.

"Are you from the Rinko family?" A furious question rang out from the depths of the lounge, yet the voice dared not be too loud.

The messenger looked at the speaker in surprise, his lips, which had been raised in excitement, suddenly pursed up, and he involuntarily took a step back.

"Xiu Tong... what are you doing here?"

"I'm asking you a question, you lowly creature." The Great Knight known as Embroidered Bronze stood up, picked up a massive axe almost half his height with one hand, and walked towards the messenger. Suppressing his anger, he held the giant axe in front of the messenger and said, "You only need to answer, yes or no!"

"No!" The messenger immediately shook his head timidly. He knew about the friction between the Bronze Knights and the Radiant Knights. If he had known that he was here today, he would never have barged into the lounge to gossip about this topic. He had no desire to offend the terrifying man in front of him, shrouded in bronze armor and known as the Arena Butcher.

Hearing the man's trembling reply, Olmer seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and then let out a loud, cold laugh:

"Hmph, hehe, looks like another guy who's been brainwashed by that infected person's bullshit behavior and is just eager to come and die."

He reached out, lifted the knight's collar, and asked:

Where is he now, and what is his name?

"His name is Roy. He's in the Candle Knight's lounge. They came together!"

This answer surprised Olmer Ingra. Candle Knight? He remembered that title; it belonged to the Letanian woman who went to Kazimierz to participate in the knightly tournament and became famous.

Olmer, born into the ancient knightly family of Ingra, had never been fond of the Letanians, but he had to admit that the woman's success was not solely due to her company's operations and beauty. Her magic was unpredictable and ever-changing, and even he would find it incredibly difficult to deal with her.

Moreover, since he came with her, that guy who claims to be an independent knight might just be a gimmick, and he might have some backing.

Olmer Ingra was reckless and belligerent, but not a madman who had lost his mind. He glanced at the little knight in his hand, who was already pale and trembling, and after confirming that he was not lying, he threw him aside, took out his communicator, dialed the number of his company's spokesperson, and walked out the door alone.

He closed the door, the phone call had already connected, and Olmer Ingra went straight to the point, asking the contact on the other end:

"Kreb, have the Scattered Blossom Knights made any moves lately?"

"No." The voice on the other end of the phone was noisy. The contact named Clayb should still be at the company. Hearing Olmer's question, he warned, "Don't lay a hand on the members of the Scattered Flower Knights, especially not on the Candle Knight. She's the top seller of Rebirth Drugs now. If you hurt her, the boss won't be willing to spend that much money to bail you out from the National Assembly."

"Tsk." Just a woman, Olmer clicked his tongue, suppressing his disdain, and said, "I don't intend to lay a hand on her. I want to ask about someone else, Roy. Do you remember that name? He came to the Knights Association today to register as a competitive knight."

Clayb frowned, racked his brain for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't remember him. What happened to him?"

“He wants to be the second Radiant Knight,” Olmer said.

A brief silence fell on the other end of the microphone. Olmer could faintly hear the man typing on a keyboard. Soon, Clayb's voice rang out again:

“I just checked on the company intranet, and there is no such person. He does not belong to the Business Federation.”

He spoke quickly, seemingly finding it both laughable and annoying that he had actually bothered to look into the matter so seriously, and continued,

"I know what you're trying to do. I'll arrange to change his debut opponent to yours. Take care of him. Remember, just cripple him, try not to kill anyone. Want to be the next Radiant Knight? Heh, you need connections to survive in this world. Alright, hanging up."

"Dududu-"

The voice on the phone stopped abruptly. The Embroidered Bronze Knight put down his phone, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

He is known as the Arena Butcher, not only because of his bloody and brutal fighting style and his reckless attacks, but also because his very existence acts as a threshold, sweeping away all competitive knights who attempt to defy the company's will in the ugliest way from the stage of knightly competition.

But ever since his defeat by the Radiant Knights, his value has plummeted. The company no longer trusts his abilities and has significantly reduced its investment in him. Although his Rusty Bronze Knights are popular, they have never had another chance to rise to the top.

He didn't hate the company that abandoned him, nor did he feel that he was incompetent; he only hated the Radiant Knight.

The Radiant Knight was banished, and he was no match for her. But Olmer Ingra wasn't worried.

If I can't deal with the Radiant Knight, surely I can deal with an imitator?

"Roy, I'm really looking forward to seeing your expression when you get the match notification."

...........

The Knights Guild, the Candle Knights' exclusive lounge.

Ordinary knights can only rest in the common lounge when preparing for a match, but it's different for knights like Viviana who already have a single-word title. They have their own exclusive permanent lounge in the Knights Association.

The place was lavishly decorated and fully equipped, featuring not only training rooms for honing Originium Arts and swordsmanship, but also bedrooms and a game room for overnight rest and relaxation. It even included a private cinema and sauna. Even someone as worldly as Roy, entering for the first time, had to marvel at the sheer audacity of the capitalists.

Viviana had just helped him complete the registration, and the debut battle information would be sent to his terminal within two to three hours, so Roy simply sat down and chatted while waiting.

Unexpectedly, only an hour later, his communication terminal sent a message.

[Mr. Roy, Junior Competitive Knight, your debut match information has been sent to your device. Please check your inbox.]

"So fast?" Vivian blinked in surprise. "Normally, it wouldn't be unusual for matchmaking to take half a day."

Roy shrugged, took out his terminal, and said, "Maybe someone just happened to be there?" Or maybe Xuan Tie had arranged something for him again?

So, who will you be competing against in your debut battle? And when?

Viviana asked curiously, if the timing didn't conflict, she would also like to buy tickets for Roy's debut match and every match after that, to witness his rise to fame.

Roy opened the terminal, looked at the message, and read:

"Match time: This Wednesday afternoon at 7 PM, Ice Soul Arena. Opponent: Olmer Ingra?"

Olmer Ingra?

Viviana's smile froze, and she incredulously snatched the terminal from Roy's hand, looking at the messages on it.

Opponent: Olmer Ingra.

Viviana's expression darkened completely. She knew the meaning of the name. If there was no knight with the same name in Kazimierz, it could only refer to one person—the infamous Bronze Knight who liked to torture his opponents on the field, trampled the law and the code of chivalry underfoot, and relied on corporate donations to escape legal sanctions!

"A butcher of the arena? How is this possible? Sending a rookie to fight against a titled knight? Have the Knights Association gone mad?"

Even with Viviana's composure, she couldn't help but mutter a curse under her breath.

She looked up, trying to comfort Roy who had received the news. If all else failed, he could give up the competition. As long as he agreed to join the Knights of the Scattered Flowers, Viviana was confident she could persuade the Rose Newspaper behind him to prepare another debut battle for him.

But when he looked up at the blue-clad man in front of him, she was stunned.

Roy showed no sign of frustration or dejection, seemingly unfazed by the terrible news. On the contrary, his smile was so relaxed and confident that his next words, when they reached Viviana's ears, seemed to transform from comforting words to a heartfelt declaration of victory.

"It's the Bronze Knight, thank goodness. I thought I'd be facing a much stronger opponent, someone like the Left Hand."

"Looks like I can easily win this time. Will Viviana come to watch my match? I can reserve a seat for you."

"Viviana? What's wrong?"

"Huh? How did such a perfectly normal girl suddenly become stupid?"

P.S.: The author is me, I am me, I am me, I am me. How can there be rumors that it's not me?

Volume 1: Chapter 11 Knights' Tournament, War Begins!

Kazimir, Kavaleria, Ice Arena.

Among the numerous knightly arenas in Kazimierz, the Ice Soul Arena is inconspicuous. It's small, located in a remote area, and lacks a large surrounding residential area to provide a stable customer base. Even the company behind the Ice Soul Arena is merely a small-to-medium-sized enterprise, not even qualified to join the Business Federation Council. In last year's Kazimierz Knightly Arena Annual Report, the Ice Soul Arena ranked only thirty-sixth, a unique and declining position against the backdrop of a generally prosperous knightly arena scene.

But who can say this isn't the trend in Kazimierz? Large arenas swallow smaller arenas, large corporations swallow smaller businesses, large capital swallows small capital. That's how the world is now. Only lower-class citizens and middle-class white-collar workers who can't afford the high prices of top-tier knightly competitions will visit this arena to watch the less-than-spectacular knightly matches held here.

And this kind of work in the arena is now Mob's entire life.

Having trekked a long way from the desolate countryside of Kazimierz, countless Kazimierz villagers, filled with fervent patriotism, embark on their journey to the Great Knight's Territory, hoping to begin a new life there. This is the shared dream of many. Mob the Big Mouth is no exception, but with no background or wealth, relying solely on his silver tongue, what he needs to advance further is not hard work, but opportunity.

"Opportunity only favors the prepared mind!" Big Mouth Mob encouraged himself. Because he needed opportunities, he valued this job even more. Even if it was just an ordinary match, he would do his best to commentate it vividly!

After adjusting his flamboyant tie, Mob took a deep breath and walked to the podium, picking up the prepared speech from the organizers:

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed people of Kazimierz! Welcome to the Ice Arena! I am your old friend, Mob the Big Mouth!"

Cheers erupted from the sidelines, clearly indicating that Mob the Mouth enjoyed considerable prestige in this arena.

Waving his arms and nodding rhythmically, Mob, the Big Mouth, brought the microphone to his mouth again and spoke as the cheers subsided:

"As you all know, I'm not one to keep things a secret, but this time is different. Please allow Mob to say a few more words and introduce the two knights participating in this competition! First, there is the Grand Knight who has been awarded a title, the formidable Rust Bronze—Olmer Ingra!"

Mob the Big Mouth suddenly pointed to the left, and the entrance screen located on the left side of the outer circle of the Ice Soul Arena lit up instantly, displaying Olmer Ingra's burly figure and his record of the last ten matches: victory, victory, victory, a string of victories!

"A ferocious arena butcher, an ancient noble family, and the threshold of contemporary competitive knights! Olmer Ingra, enemies who stand in his way are crushed, and defeated ones who submit to him cannot escape their fate. A cruel beast, and also a powerful knight, please welcome him to the stage!"

As the stirring music began, the closed gate on the left side of the venue slowly rose, and Olmeringer strode confidently onto the stage.

He held a double-edged giant axe, wore ancient bronze armor, and his face, hidden by his helmet, shone with a terrifying gaze as he stared directly at the unopened gate in front of him. He let out a disdainful sneer, then raised his hands towards the audience, opened his arms, and welcomed the thunderous cheers!

"Olmer Ingra! This ticket was worth it!" "Rusty Bronze Knight! A titled Grand Knight actually came to the Ice Soul Arena!" "The Arena Butcher, I wonder which unlucky guy will face him today!" "Don't be so hasty, maybe he's also a titled Knight?"

The clamor continued for a long time until everyone began to speculate about the Bronze Knight's opponent. Only then did Big Mouth Mob nod in satisfaction and open the file containing the basic information of the other knight.

"Roy, a rookie competitive knight, has no battle record."

Mob, who was about to shout, suddenly stopped. He looked at the documents in his hand again, and after confirming that there were no hidden compartments or pages, he fell into a stunned silence.

It's no exaggeration to say that even when he knew one of the competitors today was the Rusty Bronze Knight, he assumed the other must be another Grand Knight with a title. That's why he let the audience speculate and kept them in suspense.

And then you suddenly tell him that the other side of the battle is a novice knight?

Are you kidding me? Putting a newly registered novice knight against a titled knight in his debut battle?! Isn't that just getting stomped?

Moreover, it would be one thing if the person who was bullying the weak was someone else, but they specifically arranged for the Rusty Bronze Knight, who usually doesn't participate in these small arena matches, to bully the weak. Did this guy named Roy offend some big shot?