At this time, there was no such thing as "chival spirit", and no one proposed various moral norms that knights should abide by. In everyone's eyes, the knight class was just a group of low-level nobles who were capable of carrying horses and equipment.

"This shameful hypocrite Sir Alger has insulted me and my family in front of me more than once. Today, taking this opportunity to take the opportunity to break up with him in the arena and in front of the Holy God, the price is our lives. Either he dies or I die!" Sir Gro shouted loudly with his grim voice, as if he wanted to unravel the "misunderstanding" of those booing audiences.

The audience who supported Sir Groud cheered even more violently, and the booing people were no longer sounds and movements except for a few who were still yelling swear words.

The news that Sir Gross had put him under the horse's hooves and died after defeating his opponent quickly spread throughout Dresden, but people only regarded this as a topic of conversation after dinner.

Most people are unsatisfied with this. After all, it is the affairs of the nobles and men. They are too far from their hard life. God knows if there is any huge personal grudge or family feud between them.

After all, the two knights were not local nobles. The civilians in Dresden had no channels to understand or were interested in it.

There are also guys who have heard of Sir Alger's deeds before, scolding Sir Alger without hesitation, calling him a knight who is a powerless knight who gives the bard a lot of money to package himself.

Anyway, Sir Alger is dead, and now his servants are being pulled back to the carriage of the Principality of Normandy. Even if you take revenge, you will not be able to get these talkative guys.

The morning game was basically over, and the feasted audience left one after another, either going home or going back to the tavern to enjoy their lunch. They talked to each other about the handsome and heroic posture and superb skills of the winners of each game.

As for those knights who lost their equipment ransom or even their lives due to failure, who cares?

It is better to talk about the attraction of those unlucky guys than to talk about which poor man the black-hearted miller by the river have cheated, or talk about which gentleman the young and beautiful wife married by the old carpenter in the town has had an affair with.

Simon and his group returned to the tavern.

The sun is shining brightly at noon today, and the warm sun bakes every inch of the place that it shines, making people feel a lot of misty sweat.

Many townsmen rolled their sleeves high to reveal the elbow that was a little cleaner than the black hands - at least Simon could see their original red and white complexion from the filthy patina on the elbows that had been hard to dry and cracked.

Simon opened the door of the tavern, and a stinking fermented from the mixed heat of feces, urine, sweat, and vomit suddenly came to his face, giving him the urge to close the door and leave.

"Simon, here!" Komuning saw the familiar figure at the door at a glance, and shouted loudly at the door of the tavern with a wooden wine glass.

"How about it, your comrades' funeral has been settled?" Simon squeezed over the smelly drinkers and came to Komuning's table, took off the sword from his waist and handed it to the fat man, and sat down with the erect mail clothes.

"All have been handled, may he live happily in heaven." Komuning took a sip of fruit wine and said calmly. It seemed that he had come out of the sadness and pain of the previous few days.

"What do you want to do after you have figured out? Do you want to go back to your family territory in the Roman Empire?" Simon raised his head and said, looking at Komuning's big brown pupils.

"I don't know, since my family abandoned me on the slave ship, I don't expect any good results to be eaten after I go back." Komuning shook his head in frustration and sighed.

"Then you have to find something to do, be a caravan guard, a private soldier, a sailor, or a mercenary?"

"Hold mercenaries. You know, although the nobles often rely on mercenaries when fighting, they look down on the lowly bloodline of the mercenaries. Therefore, there must be one or two guys with aristocratic bloodline in a mercenary team to lead the bridge and act as intermediaries. Maybe I can do this." Komuning said with his chin in his arms.

"If you have decided to go this way, I think I have to say, I wish you good luck like Gabriel!" Simon curled his lips and smiled, patted Komuning on the shoulder, the latter with a confused face.

Seeing Komuning's dull appearance, Simon had to tell the story of Gabriel's lucky guy who had been working for so many years in mercenary work but was still alive.

"Simon!" Reger, who was drinking at the door, went to his little servant to mutter and muttered to his ear and walked towards the table. "Simon, the news you just got was your opponent in the afternoon is that damn Sir Gro!"

"Oh?" Simon put down his wine glass, looking surprised.

"Oh, my God, my good brother Simon, are you sure to kill him? You must know that if you lose, I bet this guy will do something as cruel to you as he would to Sir Alger!" Reger's face was full of anxiety and concern, which was even more urgent than letting him know that he had to fight Sir Gro.

"Don't worry about Reggel, sit down and have a drink of the bar and leave all these troubles to God to make a decision." Simon smiled abnormally and raised his glass to Reggel.

……………………

The thick morning mist filled the vast black forest, and the surface of the vegetation was covered by white frost.

A long mud road in the forest extends crookedly to the farthest place within sight, and the active birds on the roadside chirping as if singing melodious hymns,

Suddenly, a rumbling sound of horse hooves broke the tranquility of the mud road in the forest.

Leading was a fat man wearing a patterned Norman helmet on his head, a liner of an armed garment and a long-sleeved mail coat, a heraldic burqa printed with a green background and antler pattern, and a leather glove.

I saw him riding a beautiful white horse, standing a spear in his hand high on the kickstand. The bright square heraldic flag at the top of the spear was fluttering in the morning breeze.

"Fatty, what's going on in front?" Simon, who was riding "lucky" behind, asked loudly to the fat man riding in the front.

"No, young master, even if there are any small bandits and thieves, they will probably be scared away by our heraldic flag." The fat man replied confidently.

Simon and his party were on the way back to the village of Fold from Dresden.

At the front was the fat man riding a horse bought from Baron Carl, then Simon, who rode "lucky", then Miller and Pedy, who carried the trophy and luggage, and finally Gabriel, who rode his own black war horse.

A lord with his head held high and his chest was full of energy and four well-equipped cavalry wearing bright heraldic burqas were enough to discourage the thieves of all sizes along the way. Unless they prepared tripping ropes in the middle of the road in advance, the caravans that were moving slowly from afar would be alarmed from afar, so that the "prey" would be prepared to deal with it in advance, which would not be worth the loss.

The chain mail Simon is wearing is more exquisite and sturdy than the ones his father gave him at the enthronement ceremony. The only drawback is that the iron ring used on the shoulder of this set of mail is obviously new in color and looks a little abrupt.

This was the spoil obtained by Simon defeating a knight from the wealthy territory of the Principal of Bavaria during the martial arts competition. However, the mail that pierced his shoulder at the time caused damage, so Simon later handed the mail to the blacksmith shop in the town of Dresden and asked the blacksmith to repair it.

In addition, Simon also urgently customized four heraldic burqas and a square flag at the tailor shop in the city. Fortunately, the heraldic patterns of the Simon family are not complicated, so it did not take too much time.

As for Simon's previous equipment, Simon lost the game when he faced his third opponent and handed over it as the trophy to defeat the Knight, and also handed over a ransom that was equal to his value.

But Simon doesn't care.

The ransom I paid in that game was just a small part of the ransom I received before winning the game. The previous set of mail has now been replaced by the better set of mail from the unlucky Bavarian guy.

And although it was a pity to hand over the cover helmet of Sir Linton, Simon got the cover helmet of the arrogant Sir Gro, and he had neither lost nor made any profit.

Speaking of the arrogant and bloodthirsty Sir Gro, he really took it upon himself and killed himself.

He made the same move in the first match against Sir Alger before the game, and did not shake hands with Simon.

Not only that, then the guy with a strong sense of superiority first insulted Simon loudly, and then changed his subject and questioned the royal clerk, saying that he was unfair and how could he arrange this low-deeds country knight with his noble Duke's inner-family knight in a game, which caused a sigh.

After the game started, Sir Gro confidently raised the head of the rifle and tried to pierce Simon's throat with one shot, but his trick was penetrated by Simon. Simon not only avoided the fatal blow, but also hit the shield of the shield in Sir Gro's hand.

However, what Simon did not expect was that in addition to the sound of the gun breaking and the shield hitting, there was also a crisp cracking sound of fractures, followed by the painful wail of Sir Gro, who had just been arrogant.

This is the result that God and the old man cannot change even if they come in person. Under the witness of the audience, Sir Gros lost.

Many nobles and people who were upset to see Sir Gross outraged warm cheers and applause, shouting Simon's name loudly, and even Prince Otto and King Heinrich looked at themselves with a smile.

But Simon still noticed that not far from the king's side, the Duke of Frankenia's face was as bad as the one he had just eaten.

Although the fact that his inner-domestic knight was defeated after making a fuss about his unrelenting words was only a trivial matter for the Duke of Frankenia, Simon still warned himself to be more careful.

After the martial arts competition, Reger, who lost his equipment in the first round, had to gunfire and discuss with Simon whether he could take him to Rotenberg, where his family would be able to pick him up.

Komuning and his other comrade-in-arms named Alexander joined a mercenary group that temporarily settled in Dresden and began their new life.

As for Pedi, he originally planned to join a caravan to Kiev Ross after the martial arts competition, but he could not resist Simon's kind invitation and finally agreed to go to the village of Fold with Simon. In this way, Simon and his group had a good fighter, and the road would be safer.
Chapter completed!