Trenton undid the armor Henry wore and pulled it off of him completely, giving him a better view of the cut.
The gash was deep and blood was dripping onto the ground. Along the edges, an ink-like substance could be seen spreading under the skin.
Sir Antoine only needed to glance at Henry's state to see that there was indeed something wrong with the cut. He instantly walked forward and knocked the raised sword out of Polter's hand with his claymore.
While the knight's face was old, the way his body moved was youthful. He lifted the claymore without any issue, and his movements were lightning-fast.
"You are disqualified," the old knight said. "Knights are supposed to have honor, and you've failed in that regard."
"Wait—" Polter tried to defend himself. "That man's a peasant! You can't be serious!"
"You had better consider going into another line of work," the old knight continued. "Your skills are promising, but your lack of morals are not."
