Volume One: The Knight of the Forest Chapter 63: The Maiden Knight

However, for Berion, the most urgent matter right now was to prove his own identity—a predicament so often seen in crime stories from his previous life, yet now encountered in this foreign land after crossing over. The irony was almost laughable.

Berion smiled at the young knight who called himself Sir Andy and said, “Apart from the tales of wandering minstrels, there should be no such towering monsters in reality. As I've said, I am Berion. But how shall I prove it to make you believe me?”

“I can vouch for him, I can vouch for him!” Gamgee, fearing Berion might offend powerful people, hurriedly interjected. “He truly is Sir Berion. I can fetch his pedigree certificate and identification papers right now.” With that, Gamgee rushed off to find Bran and retrieve Berion’s documents.

“In the meantime, before the papers arrive, we can have a contest. If you defeat me or any one of my household knights, I’ll acknowledge you as Sir Berion,” Sir Andy pressed, his tone aggressive.

Berion mused, fame brings both benefits and troubles. The good part is that more people know you, giving you influence and making things easier. The downside is that fame earned through martial prowess inevitably attracts challengers. And now, without Eomer, that master swordsman, nearby to shield him, Berion was left to face them alone.

One of Sir Andy’s household knights dismounted and produced two training wooden swords, handing them to Sir Andy and Berion.

Seeing Berion’s curious expression at the wooden weapon, Sir Andy smiled and explained, “I’m afraid someone might get hurt if we use real swords, so we’ll use wooden ones. But don’t worry, I’ll do my best not to injure you.”

Berion, confronted by this fair-skinned, delicate youth whose smile was almost feminine—and whose words were so mocking—felt a spark of anger. He replied coldly, “If you end up hurt, don’t go crying about it.”

Sir Andy blushed at the remark. “Hmph, enough chatter. Let’s see who hurts whom first!”

Sir Andy took up the ‘window’ stance—a position that could both defend and attack, blocking slashes while threatening with thrusts. Yet for a novice, lacking speed, it was easily exploited.

Berion observed Andy’s starting stance and thought he must have had proper instruction, but he was too young and unpracticed. Though he got the posture right, it was clearly just for show.

Even before they crossed swords, Berion had already planned how to deal with this arrogant youth.

Seeing Berion without a stance, merely holding the sword directly toward him, Andy grew more contemptuous. He was convinced Berion was a fraud, lacking any real skill, and attacked immediately.

Berion kept the sword level, maintaining distance. Andy had to knock it aside to close in. So, as Andy charged, he raised his sword to parry.

But he failed to see that Berion was baiting him; this was entirely within Berion’s expectations.

Berion swiftly lifted his sword. As Andy’s blow missed, his momentum carried him forward. Berion stepped back quickly and struck Andy’s shoulder with the wooden sword. It wasn’t a fierce blow, but the young knight dropped his weapon in pain.

Then Berion lunged forward, his large, robust body pressing his shoulder against Andy’s chest. Andy cried out and fell to the ground.

The whole exchange was over in a few heartbeats, so quick that the onlookers barely saw what happened before Andy was clutching his chest, face and ears flushed red with shame, lying on the ground.

Berion felt awkward; when he collided with Andy’s chest, he distinctly sensed two soft masses. Even if he’d never eaten pork, he knew what a pig looked like. Coupled with Andy’s sharp, feminine shriek, it suddenly dawned on him—Sir Andy was a woman.

After helping Andy up, the household knights glared at Berion, making him feel even more at fault. He lowered his head, not daring to say anything.

But the knights had no intention of letting Berion off. Sir Sandyman drew his sword and slashed at Berion.

Though he felt guilty, Berion thought, you started this, and now you want to silence me? A fully armed household knight attacking with a sharp steel sword—this was outrageous.

His shame vanished, replaced by anger. This cross-dressing woman and the household knights were clearly bullying him, and he wouldn’t stand for it.

Sir Sandyman rushed forward, swinging his sword at Berion’s left side with all his strength. If Berion met it head-on with his wooden sword, it would likely shatter, along with Berion himself.

Berion swiftly sidestepped right, barely avoiding Sandyman’s powerful blow. As Sandyman stepped forward, Berion moved diagonally, targeting his centerline.

Sandyman, having put everything into his strike, couldn’t recover his strength, leaving himself wide open to Berion.

Before Sandyman could adjust, Berion struck his neck. Luckily, there was armor, and Berion hadn’t used full force—otherwise, Sandyman’s neck might have been broken.

Even so, the piercing pain left Sandyman writhing on the ground, moaning.

The remaining household knights, seeing their fiercest companion felled in a single move, panicked. They drew their swords, watching Berion warily, but dared not attack, fearing they’d be next.

Berion, however, had no desire to take them on. Though skilled, he was alone, armed only with a wooden sword. A misstep would mean death by a flurry of blades—not worth the risk.

As Berion and the knights faced off, Gamgee arrived with Bran and Broda. Seeing the standoff, Gamgee lamented, “Oh, Sir Berion, couldn’t you have waited? Why fight? These are important figures, accompanied by the Earl of Gree’s household knights—we can't afford to offend them.”

Berion gave a helpless, bitter smile. “I didn’t want to fight—they insisted. Did you bring my identification papers and pedigree proof?”

Bran nodded, and Berion had him deliver them to Andy. Andy received the documents, read them, and then approached Berion respectfully, hands together. He spoke softly, “Sir Berion, we failed to see your worth. Please forgive us.”

The abrupt change in attitude left Berion and Gamgee momentarily stunned. Berion replied, “It’s nothing, really. Sometimes you only get to know someone after a fight.”

Sir Sandyman, now standing, clutching his neck, said to Berion, “Honestly, we believe you’re Sir Berion even without the papers. You defeated me in one move and held back your strength. I’ve faced many knights, but few possess your skill and character.” His words conveyed genuine admiration.

The sudden shift left Berion and Gamgee feeling as if they’d ridden a roller coaster. Gamgee, quick to react, said, “Now that we’ve met through combat, let’s put past grievances aside. I’ll arrange a bonfire banquet tonight, with two barrels of fine Sarion wine. Our caravan has plenty of delicacies—let's enjoy ourselves and reconcile. What do you say?”

Andy and the others ignored Gamgee’s slick proposal. Andy, smiling, approached Berion. “Sir Berion, if you’d be willing, I’d like to invite you to our camp for dinner.”

After saying this, Andy bit his lip and added, “You needn’t worry for your safety. I swear by the Fire God—if you suffer any harm in my camp, may I fall into the dark abyss and be tormented by poisonous flames for eternity.”

Hearing such a dire oath, Sandyman hastily protested, “Miss, how can you—”

Andy shot him a fierce glare, cutting him off. “What did I tell you before leaving the city? Outside, you are to call me Sir Andy. Not ‘Miss’.”

“Yes, understood, Sir Andy,” Sandyman responded submissively.

Sandyman was a household knight of Earl Gree. This female knight was his ‘Miss’—could she be the earl's daughter? Berion couldn’t help but wonder.

But now was not the time for speculation; the young lady was awaiting his response. Berion nodded, “I trust you, Sir Andy. You are truly a knight worthy of trust.”

Hearing this, Andy’s spirits soared. It seemed she hadn’t received such affirmation in a long time, and her excitement was almost childlike. Her bright eyes lingered on Berion, then, feeling it impolite, she blushed shyly and said softly, “Then, Sir Berion, please tidy yourself and join us for dinner. Today, I hunted a wild boar—you're welcome to taste it.” With a flick of her whip, her steed galloped off.

Watching her depart, Berion found himself staring in a daze. Having little experience with women in his previous life, he felt a strange emotion stir within him, but quickly shook his head. What was he thinking? She looked three or four years younger, and her status was far beyond his reach. Besides, he was being hopelessly obtuse—a girl showed a hint of kindness, and he was already daydreaming. Truly, a typical fool.

After returning to camp, Berion washed with hot water and changed into clean, noble attire. He was, after all, attending their banquet and needed to look the part; earlier, they’d mistaken him for a farmer based on his clothes.

Once ready, Berion took Bran along to the feast. Gamgee, though uninvited, insisted on accompanying him, bringing three barrels of Sarion wine as gifts—even if he couldn’t enter, his wine would. That was Gamgee’s plan.

Berion couldn’t argue with his merchant friend, so he hurried ahead, trying to avoid Gamgee’s endless chatter.

A household knight politely led Berion to the bonfire. The camp was heavily guarded—five or six household knights, a dozen light cavalry, and over thirty heavily armed infantry. Even a band of a hundred robbers would have no hope against such a force.

At the bonfire, Sandyman and several knights awaited him. Three maidservants tended to the roasting food. After exchanging greetings, Berion had Bran, with another knight, open one of Gamgee’s barrels, and a maid poured the wine.

Berion had been a liquor salesman in his previous life and was skilled at making friends over drinks. Before Andy arrived, he had already bonded with the knights through three rounds of wine.

Sandyman, whose tolerance was low, drunkenly slung his arm over Berion’s shoulder. “A disciple of the Dawn Sword! Incredible—I’m convinced! You really are Sir Berion, a remarkable knight. I respect you! I haven’t admired many people in my life. Though we haven’t known each other long, you’re the only one younger than me whom I deeply admire. Come, cheers!”

He drained his cup with Berion. Just as they set their glasses down, a soft cough sounded behind them. Berion turned to see a noble maiden in a plain dress, adorned with golden ornaments, standing in the moonlight—like an angel descended to earth. Not only Berion, but all the knights were momentarily stunned.