Episode 51: The Dormitory Battle Begins

Behind the main school building lies a bowl-shaped terrain, its slopes lined with neatly arranged stone bleachers and staircases. This is the spectator seating. Beyond it stretches a leveled plaza—the “Grand Training Field.”

At the uppermost tier of the spectator seating, in front of the VIP section, a man’s voice rings out resoundingly.

His voice is amplified by a sound-amplifying device powered by magical ore—in other words, a microphone.

“I want you all to fully demonstrate the strength you’ve honed through daily training. As headmaster, I shall bear witness to your prowess.”

The speaker is Headmaster Ludendorf. With his words as the signal, the curtain rises on the Martial Tournament.

The spectator seats are packed with students not participating in today’s events, invited guests, and local residents. While this military academy typically prohibits outsiders, for the three days of the Martial Tournament, visitors from the outside are specially permitted.

The first event to kick off is the highlight of the Martial Tournament—the inter-dormitory competition. The first round. As a gallant orchestra’s music echoes across the Grand Training Field, students march in formation from an entrance set up on the opposite side of the spectator seating.

Leading the procession is the student representative, Randolph. Behind him follow roughly one hundred noble-born students.

Thunderous applause erupts from the spectator seats.

“Let’s see… the team entering now is the Grantzile Dormitory team, right?”

“As expected of the offspring of high-ranking nobles, they carry such refinement.”

The invited guests seated in the spectator area exchange such remarks. Among the four dormitories at the military academy, Grantzile Dormitory is considered the most prestigious. Comprised largely of high-ranking noble offspring, their team exudes splendor.

Every member is clad in dazzling armor, mounted on high-quality steeds.

Following them, another group of one hundred students appears. They, too, wear fine armor—but compared to the Grantzile Dormitory team, they pale significantly in appearance.

“That’s the Equites Dormitory team.”

Equites Dormitory houses students primarily from knightly families. In the Kingdom of Kirchien, knights hold a status above commoners, often referred to as “quasi-nobles.” However, in terms of the quality of their horses and the grandeur of their equipment, they fall far short of Grantzile Dormitory.

At both ends of the vast training field, flags bearing the crests of Grantzile and Equites Dormitories are planted firmly in the ground. The students from both sides move toward their respective flags, forming their battle lines.

The moment both armies are ready, the clear sound of a horn trumpet reverberates. It’s the signal for the match to begin.

“First unit, charge!”

At Randolph’s command, twenty students from Grantzile Dormitory launch a charge toward the Equites Dormitory formation.

“…Prepare to intercept.”

The Equites Dormitory team braces for the assault. But Randolph swiftly issues his next orders.

“Second unit, from the right flank! Third unit, from the left flank… Charge!”

With that command, about forty students split off, attacking from both sides in a pincer movement.

“Deploy units to both flanks!”

To avoid being enveloped, the Equites Dormitory team divides their forces into three groups to counter. Thus, combat erupts across the central, left, and right fronts. After the battle rages for some time, Randolph issues another command.

“…The enemy’s weak point is their left flank. Their movements are sluggish. Strike there! Fourth unit, hold for defense. Fifth unit—follow me!”

Leading a group of about twenty, Randolph charges at the Equites Dormitory’s left flank, breaking through their defenses.

—Uooooh!

Cheers erupt from the spectator seats. Randolph’s unit, riding their momentum, breaches the Equites Dormitory’s final defensive line. Randolph himself pulls up the flag planted deep within the enemy’s territory.

At that moment, the horn trumpet sounds again, signaling the end of the match.

This is the dormitory battle—a straightforward rule where two teams of one hundred face off, and the side that seizes the opponent’s flag claims victory.

In this match, Randolph’s tactical acumen shone, as he accurately identified and exploited the enemy’s weakness. That was the impression held by many spectators.

However—

“…Well, it’s a rigged game, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, the gap in equipment is obvious.”

Whispering such words are the Equites Dormitory students, freshly defeated. They aren’t necessarily saying this out of sore loser sentiment.

There’s a stark disparity in equipment between Grantzile and Equites Dormitories.

Grantzile Dormitory students ride superior breeds of horses sourced from their family estates, clad in sturdy yet lightweight armor crafted from rare monster materials.

In contrast, Equites Dormitory’s equipment consists of heavy, outdated armor passed down through generations, paired with horses lent for free by the military academy.

The sluggish movements of Equites Dormitory stem from this fundamental difference in mobility.

“Besides… we can’t exactly beat the high-ranking nobles.”

Even after graduating from the military academy, these students will continue living in this country.

If they were to defeat the high-ranking nobles here, who knows what kind of retribution might await them later.

For such reasons, the dormitory battle’s champion is always, without fail, Grantzile Dormitory.

“…Still, that guy might just pull something off, don’t you think?”

An Equites Dormitory student mutters softly. Another responds.

“—Siegfried von Kreving, huh?”

As knights, they’ve lived keeping their distance from both noble-born and commoner-born students.

As long as there are commoner students beneath them, they won’t become the targets of bullying by noble students.

That’s why they’ve turned a blind eye to the nobles’ bullying of commoners.

Yet deep down, they’ve always found the arrogant behavior of noble students distasteful.

And more than anything, they’ve harbored a genuine disgust for themselves—for silently obeying without a word of protest.

But that reckless man… Siegfried—if it’s him—

“Beating Grantzile Dormitory might be a stretch. But at the very least, I hope he can land a single blow.”