"Yes, I do. But I'm going to win because I'm falling in love with this king."
Yesterday I refrained from having sex and had intensive lessons with Karin, Liz and my two sisters all day.
It's natural, but it's a martial arts competition. Wizards are not allowed to participate and the use of artifacts that trigger something special is also prohibited.
A competition that literally excludes magical elements and only the thugs can compete. That's why Karin and Liz sister's maps are very good. You just need to train without thinking about the magical elements.
Once I eat from the teacher, I go in. Even doping with drugs or elixirs is permissible, so don't worry. I'm worried about Ari's breast, which will make milk hard from now on.
"I will win unconditionally."
- Bloop.
I glanced at the letter of recommendation and glued it into my arms. This is nothing but winning.
"Of course you have to win."
The Saint patted me on the shoulder and stroked me gently.
"But I'm so confident in winning... Is there anything you want after winning?"
"Yes? What do you want?"
"It is also in the Church's best interest for Paladin to win the Royal Martial Arts Competition. It's such a big event, it's a competition where the attention of the generations is focused. Publicity, of course, gives the impression that Verde's protection is firm."
It is natural.
That's how good Paladin is at being a 'young' Saint in the Bronze Society?
First of all, it will attract the attention of all.
The shoulders of nobles who serve the god Verde or make donations to the church will be filled with joy and pride, and the general public will also appreciate the power of the church.
This in turn leads to a rise in religions and results in an increase in donations and contributions. Any religion in the world should like the image. In this age of violence, the image of `strong religion` will work.
That's what the general public wants.
They want strong gods and warriors to protect them. Speaking of which, Verde Entertainer Kim Cat should make such a fantasy very well.
And, by the way, I don't want to lose sight of the savages. There is still a habit of discriminating against barbarians in the capital. You can only see Karin's motives from the last dungeon.
It's true that prejudice is spreading. I'm a hummus, and I'm blowing my name off. Winning has many advantages besides the prize.
"So, it would be right to give you that reward."
"No way... I'll get a double prize with the competition prize!!"
Ouch!
The Saint rewards you separately! Yes! This is where I work! The character of the Saint who tries to take care of something, no matter what!
As expected, Saint doesn't do anything!
Literally a true Saint!
"You could say that."
"Ohhh...! Thank you!!!"
Inhuman gratitude!!
"Yes, is there anything that Paladin wants separately?"
The Saint stroked my shoulder and asked about what she wanted. There's only one thing I want. Material and monetary.
That's what I really need.
"It's not as monetary as usual, I think it's too common."
"Oops."
"Any other good opinions? Let me tell you something."
"Hmmm..."
Compensation minus money?
Whether it's a food or a gift certificate, it's all monetary.
What the hell is there?
"Well... it's kind of hard to think. If you subtract the money, you don't seem to want anything."
"Phew, the Paladins are like nothing else. This is because the Saint said that it is a little vague to convert these things into money."
"Well... I guess I have a feeling about that."
It's a little strange to give a prize to a church for winning a contest. However, getting the equipment seems to be a bit vague.
"Then let the Saint take care of himself."
"Ho, can I leave it to Saint Bone?"
"I don't need anything extraordinary. Just take as much as you can to help the church. And then I would be humanly grateful."
"Yes, then let the Saint you saw think."
If you buy me a good meal like two days ago, that's fine. It tasted pretty good in there. Buying something to eat, especially expensive, is one of the great prizes.
If you're feeding this king, you should feed him something expensive.
In that respect, the Saint is thorough.
"Uh-huh, but isn't it true what the giver thinks?"
"So is he."
"I'll see you next time. I think we should go to the reception right away today."
"I'll see you in two days."
So I greeted the Saint and went outside instead.
Today I came with the flyer I picked up the last time before I came out. The location of the reception was stated here. But when I looked at the street, there were flyers everywhere.
This is not usually known or seen, but it seems radical after being interested.
I wanted to check out a few flyers that were all the same, and I headed towards the Musketeer Reception. There's a little distance, but let's take a slow stroll.
*
*
*
Arrival was in front of a six-storey tall building that looked neat. A white brick builds the exterior wall, and the roof is brightened by the sky colour.
Is it because it's also the capital?
The window design is also stylish.
- A bookie.
The building was in its own way crowded and under construction.
He was also informed that the sign right in front of him was to submit an application for the Moose Jaw contest.
It is also the biggest event in the Kingdom and the participants are thrilled.
- Heel.
Anyway, as I was about to line up for the entrance, such gazes plunged into me. They were all young men who had lost their swords to their waists.
The one who looks strong.. Not really.
I'm just messing with each other.
That's what I'm looking at.
Some of them seem strangely excited, but they just don't seem to be in the mood because they think they'll be their opponents.
Are all these bastards participating anyway?
No, but... if you say you're qualified, the placenta will come out.
"..."
I can only see cocksuckers making cocksuckers. Unless you're hiding your powers, these bastards won't be my opponents. Are they all here for letters of recommendation?
It may be that I feel this way because I'm so damn good.
The pups who stood here were mostly mid-twenties, mid-twenties, mid-twenties, mid-twenties.
It's strange to be strong when you're old... Well, the strong may have filed all their submissions, or they may simply not be visible right now.
And as soon as I see something, I don't even notice it all.
No matter what, my opponents are not these bastards, they've probably been trained to murder professionally and inhumanely in noble families since they were kids.
If not, it could be the growth of a chimeric child secretly made in the Mad Wizard's basement. Enhancement procedures and personality remodeling. And beings born with acquired human weapons, injected with efficient serial killer technology.
Next, a child who grew up and abducted a small and secret village for the purpose of transferring his skills to the murderous masterminds or covert criminal journalists, who finally received all the teachings, killed my teacher who killed his parents in the past and took away his identity and attended the contest to prove himself.
- Hemicephaly.
"Uh-huh, ah. Fuck."
I try to dance about three people like this, so my heart starts to burst with laughter.
How strong can I meet these bastards?
Those three serial killers, for example, may be so cruel and powerful that they look like good-hearted, good-hearted neighborhood idiots.
Maybe the only rumor is that the Knights of the Kingdom are in the field.
After cultivating the genes of the current Swordmaster and creating a child in the same form as a clone, all kinds of medicines and education. There is also a chance that the next general I raised during my training will be my opponent.
"Get out of my way!! I will not accept that kind of cliché!!"
I'm spinning the simulation in my head while imagining that fucker, and I hear something screaming in front of me.
"Read the rules and come!!!"
"Oh, shit!! My skills are enough!! Look!! I'll show you!!"
Seeing this, a virtuous middle-aged man who looked like a government official was scolding a young man.
"If you look at my skills, you'll be convincing!!!"
The young man was just about to draw a knife to show his skills. I think he's the one who came to register without recommendation.
"Oh, look at that."
"He seems to be there all the time."
"It was last year, maybe."
"This is why the villagers are the problem."
"Giggle."
Like that.
I guess I was right. Those who stood in line and waited began to finger the young man with a bluff.
"If you pull that knife, it won't be fun! And don't show me what he's capable of, just bring me a letter of recommendation!!!! Don't be frustrated!!!"
"Once you see it, you'll know!!!"
- Gross!
The moment the young man who ignored the warning draws his sword, he begins to spread a piece of gummy biscuit.
- Wedges!
- Shh!
"Ho, is your skill... better than you think?"
"Looks like a mastermind."
"Perfect."
Then the people who were standing in front touched their chins with admiration. If my eyes were not now a moron, the young man with a sword wouldn't even be a D if he were an Isvant Adventurer.
He seemed to be unaware of the world's water bodies.
"Guards!! I think we should catch this lunatic!!"
"Oh, no! Why! You just saw my skills?!"
"You're good and you don't have a recommendation letter!!!"
When such commotion broke out, the guards approached, and they grabbed the clubs mercilessly, turned the young man into a gonado in an instant, and dragged him to the slaughterhouse like a pig.
"..."
Then a moment of silence burst into the bowels.
A man who they considered to be a master was beaten and dragged to become dog bread by the guards. Everyone is closing their eyes as they see the air.
You bastards...!
Anyway, I took out the letter of recommendation and read it while waiting for the line. Just my identity and affiliation in the name of Saint Cardia. And it said that it guaranteed eligibility. It was stamped.
This is not enough. It's full and full.
That soon became my turn.
"Next."
A virtuous middle-aged civil servant who scolded the young man earlier said in a dry voice without even seeing me:
"My name is Paladin Kim Kat, a Saint from the Bronze Society."
I called my name as I put the letter of recommendation right on my desk.
"What, what? Par, Paladin?"
I wonder if he panicked, and he looked up at me and stammered. As expected, Paladin is Paladin. It's a remarkable job for others to see.
"Precisely the Saint's direct paladin. There, I think you can read it."
"Ah, yes, yes... I see."
The dishonored man wears the goggles on his desk and stares at my recommendation letter. As he murmured about what he was reading carefully, he picked up the stamp of something and asked me.
"Palladin... are you accepting?"
"You can't compete?"
"No, it's not like that... it's the first time a religious person has participated..."
"Whatever it is, it's the first time. If there is no problem, please submit it."
"... I understand. But how old are you?"
"As it says there, it's in its mid-20s."
"... yes."
After nodding his head, he pulls out a document that turns off something hard and stamps it. And because he asked me to sign, I signed all these documents.
"Here, your application has been completed... and the competition schedule will be like this, so I hope you'll familiarize yourself with it. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to come back here and contact us. Oh, except for the weekend."
He handed me some papers.
The content and schedule of the contest to prove your eligibility. It was a document with instructions on what the contestants should do.
"I see. Good work."
I took the paper and came out.