— Everyone is here? — the judge of the competition, looked at the competitors, silently counting them. — It seems so. As you know, the rules are simple, the first to knock down their targets wins. You probably know that during this tournament, the use of magical weapons and armor is allowed, but this competition and the next one forbid it, so you will get ordinary bows and arrows, and the magicians here will be watching you to see if you are up to something. Is that clear? — the judge saw everyone nodding. — Good. The entire competition is won by the one of the 6 winners of their duels, who has the best time, and now please approach the urn from which you will draw your numbers, and then based on them your opponents will be assigned to you.

The drawing was carried out efficiently, Menno drew 2 so he started first, Christian 10, which made Menno breathe a little with relief.

— Your opponent is Sir Dougal, who is a really good archer, but his strong and weak point is his methodicalness, he shoots at a constant fast pace, so if you manage to shoot down 2 targets faster than him, it may provoke him to accelerate, and then he may make a mistake.

The conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Lord Haart's daughter, Evie.

(Evie looks)

— Don't let her lovely face and appearance fool you, the girl can fight and fight well, I dare say even better than some of the knights here. — Said Christian, who stood right next to Menno. — You could say that she inherited all the best traits from her parents, from her looks to her talent for fighting.

— Greetings knights. I have been given the honorable duty of patronizing this tournament competition. Fight, worthily, so that I may honor one of you with the highest prize. You have prepared your body and your spirit, so it is time to enter the ranks! — After these words Evie sat on the throne that was prepared for her from which she carefully watched the competitors.

Then the trumpet sounded and the herald appeared:

— Before you is the captain of the royal guard Sir Dougal, nephew of the king and a first-class archer. He will only target blue shields. — Then his gaze turned to Menno. — Against him a new, more widely unknown lord... he represents the Ironfist family, here is Sir Menno. He will only target red shields.

— May the best win. — Dougal announced and took his place on the line.

— May the best win. — Menno repeated, nodded and also took his place.

After giving them the bow and arrows, they both drew the first arrow and waited for the signal. There were twice as many arrows as targets, so you could only miss once on the target, and there was also the pressure of time and the opponent's skills, so Menno tried to focus solely on the targets, ignoring the rest of the surroundings. The conditions were perfect, no wind, no sun in the eyes, so all that was left was to hit the target quickly.

The sound of the bugle gave the signal to start and it began, Menno shot almost flawlessly, missing only three times, but he shot fast enough to gain an advantage over Dougal, who, according to Christian, kept his pace and thanks to that managed to win, although the difference was small, only 10 seconds or less. And it only worked because Menno, unlike Dougal, who had become a habit, did not draw the bowstring all the way to the end because nothing affected the flight of the arrows, so there was no need for that, because if he had, he would have lost badly.

Menno, clearly delighted with his success, knew that it did not decide anything, and his opponent showed class that was very rarely seen in his time.

Dougal approached Menno and said:

— Losing to such an opponent is like winning. I was ruined by routine, and you used it. A little practice and you would probably equal Christian. Once again, congratulations on your victory. — Dougal shook Menno's hand and bowed to Eva.

The praise from his rival made Menno smile involuntarily.

— The bow was never my favorite weapon, but despite that I managed and luck also played its part here, it made me smile. Because as everyone knows, even during routine something can go wrong and that is why I doubt I would catch up with someone with Sir Christian's reputation. — He replied, trying to remain modest and also bowed to Eva.

— You are telling the truth, sir, a victory is a victory. Good luck and give Sir Milten my regards. — Dougal nodded goodbye and left the tournament area, because for him it was over. Menno took his seat and watched the next competitors.

When the competition ended, Menno finally took second place, right behind Christian, who confirmed his reputation as the best archer in the Central Lands and perhaps the world. Menno himself had to admit that even his master, who taught him archery, would have no chance against him. Third place went to a woman named Adelaide, who Christian later explained to him was a paladin, a knight-priest from the relatively new Sisters of Light organization, which had been founded 35 years ago and was headquartered in Strahl, but the lesson on this subject had to be postponed because the best three were to be decorated soon.

After the ceremony of decorating the best three archers, preparations for the horse race began. Menno joined Himmel and Fauna, who were standing together, with a bay horse standing next to them.

— I see you've already chosen your horse. — Menno spoke up.

— Is the competition over? — Himmel looked at the sun and realized that some time had indeed passed. — I'm sorry I wasn't rooting for you, but we had a dilemma here about which horse to choose, and Fauna helped me a lot with the choice and gave me some advice.

— I've never ridden myself, but I knew people who knew it and knew it very well, so whether I wanted to or not I learned what to look for when choosing a horse, and since it would be a one-lap race and over a long distance, Rupert was the best choice. — Fauna announced and petted Rupert.

— Rupert? — Menno repeated with surprise.

— That's his name. — Fauna shrugged indifferently. — He comes from the south, and the horses there may not be the fastest, but they are very durable and not too temperamental, so if Himmel stays in the middle of the pack, he may even have a chance to win at the end. Of course, a lot depends on the rider's skills, so I'm instructing Himmel on what and when to do, or rather reminding him.— Can you handle it? — Fauna looked at Himmel with a menacing gaze. Because she had spent a lot of time explaining the basics of riding and tricks that can be used during the race, and repeated them so many times that if he didn't get it, there was no point in even getting on that horse, but looking at him, it seems that he did get something, but the race will verify what he's learned.* It'll be okay somehow.* She calmed down in her thoughts, trying to keep her spirits up.

— I'll give it my all, you can be sure of that. — Himmel replied. — If you're asking if I'll win, then I don't know, but I'll try. And how did it go for you.

— Second place. — Menno replied shortly and pointed with his thumb at the laurel crown on his head from which two silver ribbons were fluttering. — Christian took first place and I'll say that I've never seen a better shooter in my life.

— You can see that his reputation didn't come from nowhere, but I'm more curious why you're walking around with that crown on your head? — Himmel noticed, who was trying to hold back his laughter, because the crown itself contrasted amusingly with Menno's serious expression on his face.

— Christian said that we shouldn't take it off until the fights start, otherwise it could be perceived as a lack of respect for the organizers. — He explained shortly, knowing that it looked ridiculous, but if it has to, it has to.

— It suits you, so maybe I'll get one to complete the set. — Himmel laughed.

— Very funny, but it would be nice. Especially since then we would be one step closer to our goal. — Menno looked around. — And where is Flamme anyway?

— I don't know. I thought she was with you. — Himmel answered, shrugging helplessly.

— I saw her before the competition started, but she disappeared somewhere later.

— I saw her. — Fauna spoke up. — About fifteen minutes ago she was talking to some magician. Older, short, brown beard and glasses, accompanied by two other magicians, a young woman and a middle-aged man but they kept their distance, but they were clearly his companions.

— We'll look for her after the race, she's big and strong enough to handle herself. — Menno announced without a hint of mockery in his voice and turned to Himmel. — And I wish you good luck, you'll need it.

— Good luck. — Fauna repeated. — I have to get back to the medic tent, but I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.

— Thank you, and I hope I don't disappoint you. — Himmel nodded. Just then, the trumpets sounded, calling the competitors to the start of the race.

20 minutes earlier somewhere on the tournament grounds.

Flamme was standing under one of the trees, staring at some point on the horizon. All because while walking on the tournament grounds she noticed that someone was watching them, so she decided that confrontation was the best way. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding or maybe she was dealing with some demons or their agents.

— If you want something from me, tell me directly. — She threw it and waited for the reactions of the people following her. She had chosen the place for a reason, the space was flat and there was no way any of their accomplices could hide here.

Three people emerged from behind the tree, Flamme looked at them and casually replied:— Will you explain to me why you're following us?

— So you noticed us, impressive. — The oldest of the three stated, his face not betraying any emotions.

— My companions must have noticed you too, because you're not intelligence aces and by the way, I still haven't heard the answer to my question. — Flamme folded her arms across her chest.

— There are many influential and famous people at this tournament, as well as ordinary residents... and also magicians. The four of you, or rather three of you, keep your manna level low, I would even say too low for magicians.

— So what? I didn't know it was forbidden. — She replied indifferently and had the impression that it was such a roundabout way to some delicate topic, however she was ready for the fact that the conversation could go in any direction, even the not so pleasant one.

— It is not forbidden, but it is not particularly welcome either, I would even say it is a bit dishonorable, however... — the older man stopped in mid-sentence, looking closely at Flamme. — You are the second person I have the opportunity to meet using such a trick and the second person I never expected to meet in my life... Flamme

The older man's companions opened their mouths in surprise while Flamme smiled and clapped.— Bravo, it's me. Now be so kind and get to the point.

— There is no spell that brings the dead back to life and here the question arises whether you, is it really you, or maybe you are some demonic creature?

— And yet here I am, my companions and I have come back to life to fulfill a mission and I would be very grateful if you and your companions do not interfere with us. — Flamme's face became serious like never before. — You did not defeat Frieren, so you will not defeat me. — She did not really want to fight, but she had to create the appearance that she would not hesitate to fight if forced to. — For a brief moment Flamme raised her mana level, and then lowered it again.

— Is this a challenge?! — The second man spoke up, who took this as a challenge.

— Calm down Richter! — The older man shouted, who knew that Flamme was not lying and was strong enough to cause trouble. — She could make pulp out of us with one movement of her hand and everyone gathered here. We are here to take care of the safety of the guests gathered here, not to bring danger to them.

Richter reluctantly, but somewhat calmed down.

— I understand. — Flamme, despite the distance, saw in the old man's eyes what he really meant. — Do you really want to know if I know the spell that brought us back to life, right? Unfortunately, no, and even if I did, I doubt I would be able to cast it, because the one who resurrected us had such great power that even Serie could not compare to him. — Flamme's words were filled with fear and respect for the one who brought them back to life.

Flamme's words must have made an impression on the uninvited guests, because for a moment they exchanged meaningful glances.

— Neither I nor my companions are your enemies and I assure you that we will not cause any trouble. — Her tone was now slightly milder than at the beginning of the conversation, to emphasize the truth of her intentions and good will.

— I know you are not enemies and the truth is that our meeting is the result of my selfishness... simply, I recently returned from the north where I visited my wife's grave, and when I saw you and the hero Himmel I could not believe my eyes and I thought that if you had returned, maybe I would still be able to see my wife. — The man sighed resignedly. — And by the way, my name is Denken. — Disappointment was audible in his voice, the hope that had suddenly appeared faded just as quickly.

— I sympathize with you and I am sorry that I cannot help you, but as my friend Menno would say: The past is the past, you have to remember it and at the same time come to terms with it, in order to move on, otherwise we will always be its prisoners.

— You are right... — He sighed. — I apologize for the way I wanted to get information from you.

— The past is the past, I do not hold a grudge and I would probably do the same in your place.

— Once again, I apologize and wish you a good day. — Denken bowed and headed towards the royal tent with his companions.

Proud of her attitude and behavior, Falamme headed towards the track where the race was about to take place.