Please Vote for Your Knight! – Chapter 62

Author: Asternkm

***

“Oh God, what do I do? I’m so nervous.”

Bryn muttered, her hands trembling uncontrollably.

It was because the final performance was Group 1, the group that included Kusto.

She was even more nervous than she had been back in her academy days, whenever she checked the ranking board.

Wooooo—

The sorrowful yet majestic music swept across the stage.

Darkness.

Beneath the dim lights stood nine horses, their figures lonely and still.

And beside each horse lay a fallen knight.

It was as though they were recreating the scene of Die Equus’s massacre.

The audience fell silent.

Every eye was fixed on the stage.

I won’t forget

The red hearts

You gave

I will remember

Your shattered

Red hearts

At that moment, the dim lights suddenly brightened.

The fallen knights slowly rose to their feet.

It was almost as though the dead members of Die Equus had been resurrected.

“Waaaaaah!”

The moment they mounted their horses, the music swelled, growing as rich and powerful as a full orchestra.

Under the brilliant lights, obstacles shaped like enemies stood threateningly before them.

The knights and horses faced their foes.

Then, as one, they leaped clean over them.

“Woooooah! Kusto!”

“Dmitri! Oh my God, Dmitri!”

“Did you see Killian?! Holy crap!”

Roars erupted from the audience at the breathtaking display of horsemanship.

But this was only the beginning.

The simple choreography gradually became more intricate.

And what they intended to show was—

“Bryn, isn’t this a battle?”

“Yeah, Agnes. It feels like we’re standing right in the middle of a battlefield.”

They weren’t simply honoring the fallen members of Die Equus.

They were bringing them back to life.

And recreating their final, noble battle.

The arrangement had been transformed into something desperate and solemn, carrying an almost heartbreaking grandeur.

And then—

BOOM!

With every thunderous strike of the great drum, the knights swung their swords while their horses kicked and trampled their enemies into the ground.

When Kusto crushed an enemy with his bare hands, Dmitri followed with a graceful sweep of his sword, severing its neck.

When Killian cleaved an enemy in two with his axe, Olivier pierced its body with an arrow.

The group performance had begun gently, almost like an elegant dance.

But as the resurrected knights seemed to regain their lost strength, the choreography grew more powerful with every passing moment.

More forceful.

More explosive.

Until finally—

The last enemy appeared.

The largest one yet.

The knights dismounted and surrounded it in a perfect circle.

Then, all at once, they thrust their weapons—or their bare hands—straight into the enemy with every ounce of strength they possessed.

I will offer

To your graves

My red heart!

BOOM!

The final enemy collapsed.

At the same time, the last lyrics rang through the arena, and the majestic music came to an end.

The lights went out.

For several long moments, the circular arena remained completely silent.

The performance had left behind a lingering aftertaste.

Then, a moment later—

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

An earth-shaking roar erupted from the audience, soaring toward the heavens.

The resurrection of Di Eques.

It was as though a miracle had truly unfolded before their eyes.

Every single member of the audience was caught up in the frenzy.

Even the knights onstage looked stunned by the sheer magnitude of the reaction.

The lingering emotion of the performance.

The thunderous cheers.

The overwhelming excitement.

It felt as though their hearts might burst from their chests.

Soon, the lights came back on, illuminating the judges as well.

All three had flushed faces.

“The story is about the resurrected Di Eques taking revenge on the enemies who massacred them, correct?”

Ines asked.

“Yes. That’s right.”

Dmitri answered.

The emotion of the performance still lingered, and his hand was trembling slightly.

“Who came up with such a bold little fantasy?”

The cynical question made the knights stiffen.

Dmitri maintained as much composure as he could and answered,

“We all came up with it together.”

“Excellent.”

The praise was completely unexpected.

While everyone stood there looking dumbfounded, Amond took over the judging.

“I almost got carried away. I especially liked the arrangement. Who was responsible for that?”

“Olivier.”

At Kusto’s answer, everyone’s eyes turned toward Olivier.

He lifted his chin proudly.

Killian, standing beside him, spoke with an expression that seemed to say he couldn’t help it.

“Well, apparently Olivier graduated top of his class at the Imperial Academy. He also ranked first in music.”

“I see. No wonder. The arrangement was remarkably professional.”

Amond nodded.

Then he suddenly flinched.

A soft sniffle had come from beside him.

The culprit was Mila.

Her face bright red, she wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand before speaking in a deeply moved voice.

“It really felt like my red heart was beating again.”

She smiled through her tears.

“I was so happy. It felt as though you had taken revenge on the enemies for me. And it was so moving… It felt as though you had finally laid the lingering regrets of the late members of Di Eque to rest.”

It was overwhelming praise.

And there were people here who had absolutely no desire to praise the person responsible.

Yet they had no choice.

“Olivier… you’re insane.”

“Damn it. The top student really is the top student.”

“Seriously. Seriously…”

“What an irritating bastard…”

Bryn and Agnes.

His lifelong rivals.

That insufferable bastard they wouldn’t be satisfied with even if they chewed him up and spat him out.

Olivier Morty.

But at this moment, they couldn’t deny his skill.

Nor could they deny his genius.

Especially Bryn.

“Thanks to Olivier, Kusto’s team should get a pretty good score, too. So… fine. I’ll admit it. Just this once.”

***

“Wow!”

“That was incredible!”

“You guys were amazing!”

Cheers erupted the moment Group 1 returned to the internal waiting room.

The other knights had been watching, too.

They had become spectators themselves, watching the equestrian performance from beginning to end.

Only Group 4, Group 1’s opponent, remained frozen-faced and tense.

Then the screen changed.

All evaluations have been completed.

The ‘Knights of the Empire’ who have finished voting are requested to leave in an orderly manner.

The message remained on the screen for roughly an hour before finally disappearing.

It seemed the audience had finished leaving.

Which meant the voting results would be announced soon.

The knights waited anxiously, their palms slick with sweat.

Then the screen lit up once more.

This was a display visible only from the internal waiting room.

We will now announce the voting results.

Nervous breaths could be heard throughout the room.


Group 2	Group 5
?	?

We will begin with the teams!

Anxiety was written all over David’s face.

I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been this nervous in my entire life.

He had entered Cartamen to fulfill his brother’s dream.

But the moment that dream became his own, feeling this way had been inevitable.

Maurice, sitting beside him, had gone pale as well.

Even someone as cheerful as him couldn’t help but feel nervous at a moment like this.

“Okay, relax. Take a deep breath.”

“Haa… hoo… haa… hoo…”

Behind them, Raphael was helping Pierre regulate his breathing.

It was a sight that truly showed the experience one would expect from a director.

“What if we lose, Shushu?”

“Then we’ll do better next time.”

Denny answered Pavel’s whining without much concern.

His words gave the rest of the team courage.

None of them noticed that Denny’s own hands were already drenched in sweat.

Meanwhile, Group 5, Group 2’s opponent, was in a far more somber mood.

Everyone had their hands clasped together, heads bowed as they prayed silently.

A moment later—

Dooong!

The question marks changed into numbers.


Group 2	Group 5
6,432	2,198

“!!!”

Group 2 had won.

Even after excluding those who hadn’t voted, the difference was overwhelming.

“Waaah!”

Maurice shouted before he could stop himself.

Then he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

The atmosphere surrounding Group 5 was far too gloomy.

The members of Group 2 quietly celebrated, clasping each other’s hands.

Next came Groups 3 and 6, who had chosen .

Neither team had shown anything particularly distinctive, and both received votes in the three-thousand range.

Group 6 won by a razor-thin margin.

Finally, it was time to announce the results for the teams.


Group 1	Group 4
?	?

Kusto was so nervous that he unconsciously reached over and grabbed the hand of the teammate beside him.

That hand immediately squeezed his back, as if reassuring him that everything would be fine.

It was Dmitri.

Killian and Olivier also(?) did their best to ease each other’s nerves.

“T-there is no reason to be n-nervous. T-the d-decision has already been m-made, and even s-cientifically speaking, b-being nervous won’t ch-change the r-result…”

“Could you stop talking, Olivier? You’re making me even more nervous.”

And then—

DOOONG!

The question marks changed into numbers.