The tournament grounds were abuzz with excitement. Knights of all shapes, sizes, and—much to Greji's surprise—genders had gathered to showcase their skills and win a coveted spot in his service. It wasn't long before Greji realized that the majority of participants were women, most of whom seemed less interested in knighthood and more in capturing his heart.
"Of course," Greji muttered under his breath as he watched yet another knight deliver an over-the-top pose in his direction after winning her match. "It's like I'm running auditions for The Bachelor: Knight Edition."
His little sister, standing nearby, didn't seem amused. With her arms crossed and her twin daggers disguised as hair clips glinting ominously, she muttered, "I'm going to kill every single one of them." Her dark, murderous aura was enough to make a few passing knights avoid eye contact.
After a long series of ordinary matches that blended together in Greji's mind—he spent half the time doodling plans for the manor on the back of his speech notes—a particular duel caught his attention.
One of the contestants, a striking female knight clad in gleaming silver armor, radiated a golden aura of confidence. Even from the stands, Greji could tell she was someone of noble birth. Her polished movements and sharp eyes spoke volumes about her training. As she stepped onto the field, the crowd grew silent.
Her opponent was no slouch either—a seasoned mercenary with a reputation for brutal efficiency. The fight began with a flurry of strikes and counters, the clash of blades echoing across the grounds. Greji, for once, found himself captivated.
"She's good," he said, leaning forward. "Too good. I mean, seriously, does she moonlight as a sword-wielding ballerina?"
The knight's movements were fluid yet precise, her strikes landing with calculated intent. The mercenary countered with raw power, forcing her on the defensive. But the noble knight's poise never wavered. With a perfectly timed parry, she disarmed her opponent, sending his weapon clattering to the ground.
The crowd erupted in cheers, but something was off. When the mercenary's arm, nicked by her blade, began to bleed, her demeanor changed.
Her golden aura faltered. Her confident expression melted into sheer panic as she stared at the blood dripping from her opponent's arm. Her sword trembled in her hand, and her breath quickened.
"Oh no," Greji muttered, watching her unravel. "Is she… scared of blood? In a knight tournament? This is either a comedy or a tragedy waiting to happen."
The knight, now pale and visibly shaken, let out a startled scream as more blood spattered on the ground. She hastily stepped back, almost tripping over her own feet, and pointed her sword at the mercenary like it was a snake about to strike.
"I—I yield!" the mercenary said, raising his hands in surrender. He was more terrified of her panicked flailing than her actual skill at this point.
Despite her peculiar reaction, the knight had technically won. Greji's parents, watching from their special seats, seemed enamored.
"She's perfect!" his mother exclaimed. "A noble protector for our noble son!"
Greji choked on his water. "Perfect? Did you miss the part where she almost fainted at the sight of blood? I don't think that's standard knight behavior."
His father nodded sagely. "She has character. Every great knight has their quirks."
As Greji opened his mouth to retort, his little sister appeared beside him, her smile sweet but her aura chilling. "Should I handle this 'perfect knight' for you, dear brother?" she whispered, fingers brushing her hidden daggers.
"Nope, nope! No handling necessary," Greji replied, backing away. "Let's just see her stats later. Maybe she's secretly amazing. Or maybe she's secretly a pastry chef pretending to be a knight."
The remaining matches paled in comparison to the drama of the blood-fearing noble knight. Greji watched with a mix of amusement and relief as the final duels wrapped up. The winners were presented with ceremonial swords, officially becoming knights of the state.
As the new recruits lined up, Greji surveyed them with a sense of cautious optimism. "Alright," he said to himself. "We've got a pyrophobic pyromancer, a knight afraid of blood, and an assassin with a questionable moral compass. Slowly but surely, we're building the weirdest state in the kingdom. What could possibly go wrong?"
With that, the tournament ended, and Greji prepared for the next steps in his journey—a journey that promised even more chaos, absurdity, and, hopefully, progress for his rapidly evolving state.
Greji stood in his family's modest courtyard, stretching his arms as he contemplated the path ahead. Though the lack of a system meant he couldn't magically boost his stats like others, he knew his body could be strengthened through sheer effort and discipline. Training was his only option if he wanted to survive—and possibly thrive—in this chaotic world.
But before that, he needed to deal with the "Blooded Knight." After her dramatic performance in the tournament, she was brought inside to rest. Now, sitting on a bench with a cold towel on her forehead, Eli Grimblade looked more like a startled fawn than a warrior who had outclassed a seasoned mercenary.
When Eli had calmed down enough to allow Greji and his family to examine her stats, Greji couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. For someone so terrified of blood, her abilities were formidable.
Name: Eli Grimblade
Title: Blooded Knight ("A knight of impressive strength, but cursed by an overwhelming fear of blood")
Level: 12
Stats:
• Strength: 54
• Agility: 47
• Stamina: 45
• Mana: 42
• Defense: 48
• Charisma: 30
• Luck: 18 ("Prone to awkward misfortunes")
Skills:
• Flawless Blade Technique (Passive): Exceptional swordsmanship beyond her level.
• Quick Reflexes (Active): Grants increased reaction speed for 10 seconds.
• Guardian's Will (Passive): Bonus defense when protecting allies.
• Bloodbound Panic (Passive): Automatically triggers upon seeing blood. Causes agility to increase by +20 but significantly reduces combat effectiveness.
Greji read through her stats and skills carefully, nodding at each impressive figure. "Not bad for someone whose biggest enemy is a paper cut," he muttered.
Eli's face turned crimson. "I-It's not that bad!" she protested. "I only panicked because it was so sudden!"
"Sure, sure," Greji said, smirking. "You're like a lion who faints at the sight of a mouse. Adorable, really."
From behind him, his little sister muttered, "I'm going to kill her." She was glaring daggers at Eli—figuratively for now, though her fingers were twitching near her twin dagger hair clips.
Despite the rocky introduction, Eli's mood visibly brightened as she focused on Greji. Her eyes sparkled, and there might have been literal heart shapes in them as she spoke. "Lord Greji, it's an honor to serve you! You're so inspiring! So regal! So… breathtaking!"
"Breathtaking, huh?" Greji said, leaning back slightly as she inched closer. "Well, I can't argue with the truth, but maybe let's tone it down before my sister actually murders you."
Eli froze when she noticed Greji's sister glaring at her with a chilling smile. "Oh, um, right! Of course! Professional distance!" she said, backing up with a nervous laugh.
"Good girl," Greji's sister said quietly, her aura of menace dissipating slightly.
Once the awkwardness subsided, Greji got to the point. "Eli," he said, "I don't have a system like everyone else. No stats, no leveling up. Just me. If I want to get stronger, I'll need someone skilled to train me. And judging by your performance in the tournament—screaming aside—you're clearly the real deal. Will you help me?"
Eli's face lit up. "Train you? It would be an honor, Lord Greji! I'll teach you everything I know!"
Greji smiled, though a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead when he noticed the hearts returning to her eyes. "Great! Just… no killing me during the lessons, alright? I'd rather not make the headlines again."
Eli nodded enthusiastically, clutching her sword. "You can count on me! By the time we're done, you'll be the most formidable noble in the kingdom!"
"Let's aim for not dying first," Greji replied, sighing.
Eli's training methods were as intense as her swordsmanship. She immediately started Greji on a rigorous regimen of exercises designed to build strength, agility, and endurance. Though her fear of blood made her hesitant to practice with live weapons at first, her passion for teaching—and her admiration for Greji—helped her overcome it.
For Greji, the training was grueling but satisfying. As he practiced with Eli, he couldn't help but admire her skill. Despite her quirks, she was a natural warrior, and her passion for swordsmanship was infectious.
Still, Greji couldn't resist teasing her whenever she stumbled or hesitated. "Careful there, Eli. Don't want you fainting if I get a papercut."
Eli huffed, pouting. "I'm over that now! Probably."
From the sidelines, Greji's sister watched the training session with narrowed eyes. "If she so much as touches him the wrong way…" she muttered, sharpening one of her daggers.
By the end of the day, Greji was exhausted but optimistic. With Eli as his trainer and his determination to improve, he felt like he was finally making progress. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he glanced at Eli, who was beaming at him like an overeager puppy.
"Thanks for today, Eli," he said. "You're… not as bad as I thought."
Eli clasped her hands together, her cheeks flushing. "T-Thank you, Lord Greji! I'll work even harder to help you become stronger!"
As Greji walked back toward the manor, he couldn't help but smirk. His training was just beginning, and with his wits, determination, and a team of misfits slowly forming around him, the future was looking brighter—if not a little bloodier.
Greji had just finished another grueling training session with Eli. His muscles ached, his shirt was soaked with sweat, and his little sister was sharpening her daggers ominously in the background. As he walked into his study to rest, he found an unfamiliar figure waiting for him—a young man dressed in neat but slightly shabby clothing, nervously adjusting his spectacles.
The young man stood and gave a deep bow. "Lord Greji, it is an honor to serve as your assistant. I am Blake Quince, at your service."
Greji raised an eyebrow. "Assistant, huh? Who sent you?"
"Your parents," Blake replied, his voice trembling slightly. "They thought you might need someone to help manage the increasing responsibilities of your growing state."
"Ah, yes," Greji said, rubbing his chin. "My parents, the great masterminds who let themselves get scammed out of their last copper coin. I'm sure this was a well-thought-out decision."
Blake coughed awkwardly. "I assure you, Lord Greji, I'm quite competent. I've studied administration, bookkeeping, and—"
"Can you make coffee?" Greji interrupted.
"...I beg your pardon?"
"Coffee, Balake" Greji repeated. "Do you know how to make it? Because if you can't, we're starting on shaky ground."
Blake adjusted his glasses. "I… I can learn? But it's Blake sire."
"Good answer, Balake" Greji said, smirking.
Blake quickly learned that serving Greji was no ordinary task. For starters, Greji seemed to view him less as an assistant and more as a Swiss army knife of utility.
"Balake," Greji called one morning, lounging in his chair. "I need you to organize these documents for the state's finances, write a speech for the upcoming town meeting, and—oh—go fetch me a snack. Something with honey. I'm feeling regal today."
Blake blinked. "Would you like me to summon a bard to serenade you while you eat, my lord?"
Greji grinned. "See? You get it. I knew you'd be useful."
Blake sighed and got to work.
Despite Blake's obvious competence, Greji's penchant for mischief kept their interactions anything but professional.
One day, while Blake was meticulously going over the accounts, Greji leaned over his shoulder and whispered, "What if we started charging villagers a handsomeness tax? You know, for the privilege of looking at me."
Blake froze, his quill hovering above the parchment. "My lord, that's… unethical. And possibly illegal."
Greji shrugged. "Think about it. We could call it the 'Visual Aesthetics Contribution.' Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Barlow pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll… put it on the list of 'Ideas to Consider.'"
"Good man," Greji said, patting his back.
The final straw came when Greji decided Blake should test Eli's cooking—specifically, a stew she'd prepared after training.
"Why me?" Blake protested, staring at the bubbling cauldron of questionable substances.
"Because you're my assistant," Greji said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And assistants assist."
Blake sighed and took a cautious sip. His face immediately turned several shades of green.
"Well?" Eli asked, her heart-shaped eyes sparkling with hope.
"It's… unique," Blake managed, his voice hoarse.
"See? You're a natural diplomat," Greji said, laughing as he handed Blake a glass of water.
Despite the antics, Greji quickly realized that Barlow was more than just a punching bag for his jokes. The young assistant had a knack for organization and strategy that complemented Greji's own cunning.
"Alright, Balake," Greji said one evening, leaning back in his chair. "You've earned your place. You're not just an assistant—you're my secret weapon."
Blake adjusted his glasses, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you, my lord. I'll do my best to live up to your expectations."
"Good," Greji said, smirking. "Now, about that handsomeness tax…"
Blake groaned, but deep down, he couldn't deny that life with Greji was never boring.