Falling from a horse must be quite painful, though.
I couldn’t help but think that this seemed a bit challenging for new recruits.
As it was a test and not an actual battle, we were only allowed to attack the rider—targeting the horse was against the rules. According to Thibault, horses were precious assets to the knights, so harming them just for the sake of a test was absolutely out of the question. That was a relief, as I would have felt terrible about hurting an innocent horse that had done nothing wrong.
Gahariet explained the rules of the tournament, and we all listened intently. Everyone looked so serious.
“Anyway, women are exempt from the test this time! You all pass!” he concluded.
Huh?
All the women exchanged glances, confused.
Well, that was easy, but...
Was that really okay?
Seeing how bewildered we all were, annoyance took over Gahariet’s features. “This test is just a formality, so there’s no need for us to waste time on your matches. Female knights are all useless, anyway.”
Huuuh?
The women—me included—were even more taken aback by his words. If female knights were all “useless,” what was the point of hiring us in the first place? I didn’t understand.
Oh well. At least I won’t need to joust with a lance; that’s good news. As long as he doesn’t get in the way of our investigation, I don’t care what that man says.
However, he wasn’t quite done yet.
“Instead, you’ll be cheering for the men from the sidelines. That’s the only thing y’all are good for, anyway. Be sure to work hard to boost their spirits.”
Seriouslyyy?
Though Fouet hadn’t said anything, his catchphrase from earlier rang in the back of my mind.
Needless to say, the other women were as baffled as I was. It seemed the Royal Knights didn’t value women for their abilities, but rather viewed us as eye candy for the men. Certain nations had had a similar culture five hundred years ago.
Oh well. I suppose I’ll just cheer for Char and the others. I don’t want anyone to start suspecting me, after all.
For now, my main priority was to get through this without making waves.
Before long, it was time for Thibault’s first match. His opponent was another young man. This was a single-elimination tournament, meaning only the winner would advance to the next round. The participants had all been lent armor to ensure they wouldn’t get hurt too badly, and Thibault’s was way too big for him. He likely had never mounted a horse before his brief training session in Lèvres, as he seemed a bit unsteady astride one when facing his opponent.
“What, he can’t ride a horse?” The other candidates laughed mockingly as they watched him falter with every step his mount took.
Personally, I think he’s doing great for someone who hasn’t even trained for a month.
As someone who couldn’t ride a horse to save my life, I was genuinely impressed. But of course, the others didn’t know that Thibault had never trained to become a knight in the first place.
“Do your best, Thibault!” I cheered.
I didn’t know if my encouragement reached him or not, but although he was still staggering, he raised his lance, ready to charge.
That weapon looks heavy, I thought.
The match soon began, with both opponents thrusting their lances at each other, but they both missed their first strike.
“Hang in there!” another woman cheered.
“Too weak!!!” a deep voice boomed behind us.
“Huh...?”
I turned around in surprise. At first, I didn’t understand why he was yelling at us.
“Too weak”? What does he mean?
Gahariet crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at us, displeased. “That’s no good at all! You’ve got to encourage them with your whole heart and soul! What the hell are you all here for?!”
I very much wanted to reply, “To take the entrance test,” but I decided against it. I had to stay as inconspicuous as possible.
Nothing this man says ever makes sense.
Besides, cheering wasn’t something that could be forced; it had to come from the heart. No one would feel genuinely encouraged by someone who was coerced into cheering for them. They’d just feel sorry and awkward.
“Start over!” Gahariet yelled, deciding to take the reins.
What exactly are we supposed to “start over”? We’re just cheering!
I really struggled to understand this country’s culture. Or maybe it was just the order of chivalry that was strange.
Either way, I don’t like it here.
I didn’t think I would ever get used to this.
In the midst of all this, Thibault lost his balance and fell off his horse without even getting hit.
“We have a winner!” a male knight—one of Gahariet’s subordinates—announced.
Thibault had lost.
Good grief. He urged us to try to get “decent results,” yet he bombed it.
I decided to use my magic to make his equipment lighter for his next round.
After that, Char and the twins had their own matches and managed to get good enough scores. They let two other candidates take the first and second places, with Char ending up third overall and the twins sharing fourth. I thought they did a great job following Thibault’s instructions.
As for the women, me included, we had been forced to cheer without respite for the entire tournament, Gahariet’s watchful eye never leaving us. We were all exhausted.
I don’t want to do any kind of cheering for a while.
Gahariet, on the other hand, was brimming with energy. “You all pass! However, those who lost at everything, including their revival matches, will have to do a hundred laps around the grounds!”