Free Web NovelJulian von Weber stood in the shadows of the waiting area, watching a mecha engineer perform the final checks on his mecha's leg armor.
The engineer was a gray-haired old man wearing oil-stained overalls, holding a wrench as he tightened a bolt.
"Hydraulic system normal, steam pressure stable at standard values, joint lubrication sufficient."
The old man straightened up and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"The weapon systems have been adjusted according to tournament rules—blunted blades, low-power steam impact; they won't cause lethal damage."
"What about the cooling system?"
Julian asked.
His voice betrayed no emotion, but the light tapping of his fingers against the side of his thigh revealed his inner tension.
"The calibration is perfect."
The old man patted the mecha's calf armor.
"This mecha was customized based on your physical data, Young Master Weber. It will fit you like a second skin."
Julian nodded.
"Thank you for your hard work."
He looked up toward the Third Training Ground.
It was a massive open-air arena, over two hundred meters in diameter, with a floor of specially treated concrete capable of withstanding the weight of mechas and the impact of combat.
A three-meter-high steel fence surrounded the edge of the field, and beyond the fence were tiered spectator stands stretching from the ground up to a ten-meter-high platform.
The stands were packed with people.
Students, instructors, nobles, merchants, and even a few officers in Imperial military uniforms.
Some sat, some stood, and some leaned against the railings; everyone's eyes were focused on the center of the field.
Sunlight ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) spilled through gaps in the clouds, reflecting blindingly off the mechas' armor plates.
The entire training ground resembled a giant colosseum.
And Julian was about to become the protagonist of this arena.
He took a deep breath.
Today was the day third-year students of the Royal Knights Academy received their exclusive mechas.
On this day, every third-year student would receive a mecha customized according to their combat style and physical data.
A unique war machine that truly belonged to them.
To celebrate this occasion, the academy would hold a mecha martial arts tournament.
Third-year students would pilot their newly acquired exclusive mechas in bouts using non-lethal weapons.
The rules were simple:
Knock down the opponent or force them to surrender.
No live ammunition.
No attacking the cockpit.
No causing permanent disability.
Aside from that—
Anything goes.
The champion would receive unparalleled honor.
As well as an opportunity for personalized mecha modification assisted by the Royal Research Institute.
That was the Royal Research Institute.
The Empire's top technical institution.
The value of having them personally modify one's mecha—
Was something money couldn't buy.
In previous years, the tournament was usually held using the simulation system at the Second Training Ground.
Students would sit in simulation pods, connecting to virtual mechas via Spinal Interfaces to fight on virtual battlefields.
This avoided actual casualties and the massive repair costs associated with damaged mechas.
But this year was different, because the Second Training Ground had been completely destroyed in a massive explosion a while ago.
That explosion—
Julian remembered the mushroom cloud that day, the twenty-meter-wide crater, and the half of the main teaching building that had collapsed.
The official explanation was a "steam explosion caused by dilapidated steam pipes."
No one dared to ask more, including Julian himself.
However, the tournament was not canceled because of it.
Without a simulation system, they would use real mechas!
Onto the real Third Training Ground, piloting real mechas for real combat!
For the Royal Knights Academy, this was a competition that had to be held.
Every future Imperial Knight yearned for the chance to be in the spotlight during this tournament.
And for Julian von Weber, this was an even more vital competition.
He would use this tournament to reclaim his honor.
In the start-of-term exercise, he had been beaten so badly by an obscure little girl that he couldn't even crawl back up.
That silver-haired, frail little girl.
She had caught his full-force downward slash with just two fingers.
Two fingers.
Then she had snatched his sword and struck the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel on the dueling grounds.
Afterward, although no one said anything on the surface—
After all, that girl was the adopted daughter of the Schwartz Family and the younger sister of the "blood rose" Eleanor.
But Julian knew.
He knew those looks.
The looks cast his way in the hallways, in the cafeteria, and on the training grounds.
There was sympathy.
There was mockery.
There was schadenfreude.
And there was something even worse—
Pity.
They were pitying him.
Pitying him for being defeated by a little girl.
The feeling was no different from being utterly disgraced.
For the past month, Julian had been miserable in every way.
Although Katya had also been defeated by that little girl, she was a commoner after all; there was no talk of honor or lack thereof for her.
But he was different.
He was Julian von Weber.
The eldest son of the Weber family.
A core member of the Iron Cross Society.
His honor was not just his own; it represented his family, his society, and everyone who supported him.
He had to prove himself again.
He had to win the championship in this tournament.
To that end, he had already defeated many strong opponents from his year.
In the first round, his opponent was Otto von Linz.
The second son of the Linz family, specialized in heavy assault tactics, piloting a breakthrough-type mecha with thick armor and ferocious weaponry.
Otto's tactic was simple:
A head-on clash.
Using thick armor to tank the opponent's attacks, then crushing them with a single blow from a steam warhammer.
Crude, direct, and effective.
But Julian gave him no chance.
He used his speed advantage to circle to Otto's flank, repeatedly attacking weak points in the joints, finally disabling his left arm's hydraulic system before Otto could even turn around.
Combat time: Three minutes and forty seconds.
In the second round, his opponent was Erika von Stein. freёwebnovel.com
The only daughter of the Stein family, specialized in mid-range fire suppression, piloting a firepower-type mecha equipped with dual steam rifles.
Erika's tactic was to maintain distance and suppress the opponent with a dense barrage, giving them no chance to close in.
Her shooting accuracy was extremely high, capable of hitting the joint gaps of a moving target from two hundred meters away.
But Julian had studied her combat footage.
He knew Erika had a habit:
After every shot, she would have a 0.3-second aiming adjustment period.
Julian utilized this window, approaching at high speed in a Z-pattern, reaching her before she could finish her third round of fire.
Then he severed her rifle barrel with a single sword strike.
Combat time: Five minutes and twelve seconds.
In the third round, his opponent was Maximilian von Hohenzollern.
The third son of the Hohenzollern family, specialized in flexible mobility tactics, piloting a light high-speed mecha.
Maximilian's tactic was to roam, using his speed advantage to constantly harass the opponent, looking for an opening to deliver a fatal blow.
His mecha armor was thin, but its speed was astonishing, capable of completing a full flank in under three seconds.
This was the most troublesome opponent Julian had encountered.
Because Maximilian's tactics were very similar to his own.
Two high-speed mechas chased each other frantically across the field, blades clashing and sparks flying.
The cheers from the stands almost blew the roof off.
Ultimately, Julian guessed correctly during an exchange.
He abandoned defense, tanking one of Maximilian's strikes with his mecha's shoulder armor, then pierced his right leg joint the moment the opponent retracted his blade.
Maximilian lost his balance and fell to one knee.
Combat time: Eleven minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
Then came the semi-finals.
His opponent was Friedrich von Braunschweig.
The eldest son of the Braunschweig family, specialized in versatile tactics, piloting a balanced-type mecha.
Friedrich had no obvious weaknesses, but no obvious strengths either.
His mecha had moderate armor, moderate speed, and moderate firepower.
But his tactical awareness was extremely strong, allowing him to adjust his tactics at any time based on his opponent's style.
This battle lasted nineteen minutes.
Julian used every trick in the book—
Feints, luring, ambushes, kiting, head-on clashes—
Finally, when Friedrich's steam boiler overheated and his mecha's performance dropped, Julian seized the opportunity to sever his weapon.
Friedrich surrendered voluntarily.
Combat time: Nineteen minutes and four seconds.
Now, Julian had reached the finals.
His opponent was—
Konrad von Waldenburg.
The second son of the Waldenburg family.
The acknowledged strongest among this year's third-year students.
Konrad's mecha was unique: its armor was heavy but not clumsy, and its weapon was a massive two-handed steam greatsword.
His tactical style was somewhere between Otto's heavy assault and Julian's flexible mobility.
He had sufficient protection as well as sufficient maneuverability.
Moreover, Konrad's swordsmanship was exquisite.
He had been the runner-up in last year's training mecha competition, and today he had swept through all his opponents.
In the semi-finals, he had defeated the champion of the training mecha competition in just seven minutes.
Julian knew this would be a tough fight.
But he had to win.
He had to prove himself.
Prove that he wasn't the trash who was defeated by a little girl in twenty seconds.
Prove that he was worthy of the Weber surname.
Prove that he was worthy of the honor of the Iron Cross.
And do it for Katya's sake as well.
