Looking across from the end of the pitch, Carl saw Billford staring quietly in his direction.
"Umm…" Carl felt breathless.
Billford was the type of person who avoided unnecessary actions, a testament to his loyalty to Catherine.
Despite this glorious opportunity, he didn't even think about looking around or waving to make himself known.
This added to Carl's pressure.
As Carl had instructed him to fight sincerely, Billford would attack without regard for consequences, intending to knock Carl off his horse with a single blow.
Carl listened to the familiar warnings, lowered his visor, and accepted the lance.
"Please respect your opponents and compete fairly!"
At those words, Carl shook off his thoughts and focused on the match. His vision slowed, and all sounds seemed to flow sluggishly, as if his ears were deaf.
His vision moved up and down slowly, in rhythm with his breathing.
