Chapter 36: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages

Newbie Gacha (3)

[If you wish to become a Windsor Knight, come to Theresia immediately.]

‘True luxury needs no advertisement.’

Just as Cecilia had expected, this simple announcement caused a sensation.

Independent knights who had been waiting for this day, mercenaries with dreams of becoming knights someday—within less than a week, a considerable number of applicants poured in from all over.

“Lady Cecilia, where should we gather the applicants?”

“The dungeon.”

“Pardon?”

Cecilia gathered the applicants in a dungeon. But it wasn’t a real dungeon.

The only things in there were half-dead goblins who hadn’t eaten for a week, and the undead that rose from their corpses—a pathetic excuse for a dungeon.

“Are we supposed to be clearing this?”

“Hmm, it just looks like a rundown dungeon.”

“This first test seems super easy. Nothing to it, really.”

—Graaaar!

“Ah!”

“A demon!”

Boom. Boom.

Something massive shook the forest as it headed toward the applicants.

“Gasp!”

“O-Oh my god.”

It was a giant golem on fire. The golem was nearly the size of a building, and the sheer pressure it emitted was overwhelming.

—Humans, begone! This is my domain!

“Run!”

“We’re supposed to fight that? That’s insane!”

Panicked, the would-be knights scattered in all directions.

Soon, no one was left in the clearing.

Ssshhh—

And then—

In the now-empty clearing, four people appeared, seated around a table.

“……”

Kairon and Edward sat across from Cecilia, who rested her chin on her hands at the head of the table, staring blankly into space.

“Cecilia… You didn’t confuse a knight recruitment exam with a tea party, did you?”

Edward asked with a forced smile. Cecilia answered firmly:

“Nope.”

“…Then could you explain what value that ridiculous golem has as part of a proper test?”

The golem from earlier was a fake, constructed from Cecilia’s wind magic.

The flames that made it look so dramatic and intimidating? Edward’s handiwork.

Cecilia had loved the golem’s design.

“The goal of this test is to assess the applicants’ fundamental potential. We’re lowering the standards for this recruitment, yes—but we must evaluate their capacity to grow.”

“Capacity to grow?”

“The willpower to stand against an opponent stronger than oneself.”

How many people can take on a solo raid right from the beginning?

But those who don’t give up even after failing—those who keep trying—will succeed eventually.

Cecilia valued that fighting spirit more than raw reaction speed or natural combat sense.

“We don’t need knights in Windsor who lack the courage to take risks.”

“That’s a valid point,” Kairon nodded seriously.

“…But was it really necessary for the golem to talk?”

Kairon, who had been the voice actor for the golem, raised a formal objection.

“…Was it bad?”

Cecilia looked downcast, like a kitten caught in the rain.

Kairon hurried to reassure her.

“No, no! It was a great idea.”

“Even if we overlook the voice, did you really have to use my divine blessing too? Your wind would’ve been plenty scary enough for the applicants.”

“Special effects supervisor” Edward asked coldly.

As royalty and vice-commander, he found it immensely insulting that his Blessing was being used for something like this.

Cecilia, as if she hadn’t expected this reaction, covered her mouth and spoke slyly:

“Well… if it’s too taxing on your mana, I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“……Who said that?”

Fwoooosh!

The flames covering the golem doubled in size.

Cecilia beamed with great satisfaction.

“Bring in the next team.”

***

Total applicants: 535. Number of first-round passers: 68.

Anyone who even tried to engage with the golem was given a pass.

Cecilia’s method was somewhat questionable—but it proved unexpectedly effective.

The key advantage: speed.

Sorting through 535 people was typically a process that took time.

But she’d done it in under an hour.

Even Edward, who had been full of complaints, had no choice but to acknowledge the results.

“But Commander,” Edward argued, “disregarding me—the vice-commander—and handing the testing over to Cecilia… it’s not appropriate for the future of this order.”

“When you become commander.”

“…….”

“Then you can do whatever you want.”

In other words: I’m the captain now, so shut up.

Edward’s brow twitched—but he didn’t argue further.

“Second test… the coliseum?”

Kairon and Edward now sat in the VIP box of the Windsor Coliseum.

The first-round survivors had gathered in the arena below, most wearing expressions of confidence.

“Looks like a fear resistance test.”

“Or maybe duels.”

“Either way, pretty standard. Well… at least it’s reasonable.”

There’s nothing wrong with being conventional.

Fear resistance testing was already a formal part of the Windsor Knight admission process. It had proven effectiveness.

But...

‘Cecilia never wears the same outfit twice.’

Kairon narrowed his eyes.

The only exception to that rule was her ever-present white knee socks.

So would she really repeat the same test as before?

A mix of anticipation and subtle dread filled the air—

And then the doors of the coliseum opened, and Cecilia entered.

Holding a 5-silver coin wooden sword.

***

Before that, in a quiet corner—

“You want me to tell you about Lady Cecilia’s personality?”

Beatrice, deep into an all-nighter study session with the “Newbie Required Reading,” blinked her bleary eyes at the two familiar faces in front of her.

Riharten and Dessen.

She held a strawberry juice nervously in one hand, sweating.

‘Ah. I shouldn’t have come…’

She’d been cooped up with books all day and craved some fresh air.

So she rushed over because they said they would buy her something delicious…

The promise of a pricey royal dessert shop had sealed the deal.

‘B-but a bribe?! If Cecilia finds out about this, I’m dead.’

“Betty, please. We have to pass this test.”

“If we miss this shot, we’ll have to wait another year. I can’t afford that. I have to earn merit for my house.”

Beatrice was, by nature, quite soft-hearted.

“Honestly, I don’t know much. She never told me what the test would be.”

After a short silence, she glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Then she whispered:

“But… if it’s Lady Cecilia…”

She’ll probably beat you to death and pick the ones who don’t die?

“…….”

Cecilia had a well-known public image.

Sword Princess Cecilia.

Just by the name, she was considered a symbol of beauty in the royal capital.

Every motion of her sword was said to be artistry itself.

She was also perceived as the very embodiment of noble grace—each gesture and every word imbued with refinement.

Of course, after joining her on that “somewhat ordinary dungeon” mission, they’d learned she wasn’t entirely sugar and roses...

She belonged to an order of knights that shed neither blood nor tears for demons. That much, they thought, was to be expected.

So while Riharten and Dessen listened carefully to Beatrice’s warning, deep down, they both thought:

‘Nah, come on. How bad could it really be?’

They would come to deeply regret that complacency.

Thud! THUD—!

“S-She’s seriously trying to kill us?”

“That’s just insane!”

“Why is she that strong without even using her Blessing?!”

Cecilia had a large mercenary pinned underfoot and was wildly swinging a wooden sword.

One by one, the defensive barriers around them, that are manifested by Blessing, were shattering.

“Dessen... this is...”

“Forget about even brushing against her clothes. Just focus on surviving.”

Here’s how it all started:

Cecilia had entered the arena with nothing but a cheap wooden sword.

Looking over the successful first-round applicants, she calmly declared:

— Survive, and you pass. Die, and you fail.

At first, everyone assumed it was just rhetoric.

After all, who runs an exam where applicants might actually die?

— I won’t use my Blessing.

Some even laughed at that.

Sure, high-ranking knights were strong—but mostly because of their powerful blessings.

Without one, even Cecilia would just be an ordinary girl.

...Or so they thought.

BOOM!

“That—”

“That’s what she calls not using Blessing?!”

A great cloud of dust swirled around them.

Cecilia, having broken another mercenary’s barrier, now strode toward the group of applicants.

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“How do you break barriers barehanded?!”

She dodged spells with ease, and no matter how many blades came at her, she parried all of them.

That technique—parrying—involved striking an attack at just the right moment to momentarily stun the enemy.

The catch?

Parrying wasn’t something humans could reliably do.

It required reaction speeds beyond human capability.

And yet Cecilia did it effortlessly like eating rice. Over and over again.

In other words—

“She’s not human.”

She was on another level entirely.

“Guhh!”

Cecilia drove the tip of her wooden sword into Riharten’s solar plexus, the last one standing.

He collapsed, wheezing into the empty air.

“Hmm…”

Cecilia moved to go after her next target.

But when she saw that not a single person remained standing in the colosseum, she stopped and sighed.

“Was that really all?”

This test had been designed to assess basic survival instincts.

The survival rate for new recruits in the Windsor Order was a mere 30%.

And since the standards for this round of recruitment had been lowered, the rate was bound to drop even further.

Cecilia had no intention of sending all these fresh newbies straight into the Goddess’s embrace.

Out of kindness—yes, kindness—she’d designed the second test.

The pass conditions were simple:

When faced with an overwhelmingly stronger opponent, how would they react?

Would they give up, or would they stand their ground? If so, how resilient they are before going down?

Even fulfilling just one of those conditions would’ve earned them a pass.

‘Riharten, Dessen, and that mercenary from earlier… that makes three.’

The big mercenary had immediately shifted all focus to defense the moment he sensed Cecilia’s overwhelming strength.

Good judgment.

Next, Dessen and Riharten had given up on attacking and responded as defensively as possible.

Also good judgment.

If this had been a real battle, they would have served well as a delaying unit until reinforcements arrived.

But the rest?

‘Unfit.’

With slight disappointment, Cecilia turned to leave the colosseum—

Until a voice stopped her.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, you damned bitch—!”

One of the applicants, bloodied and beaten, grabbed her slender ankle.

Cecilia, despite the sudden insult, was smiling.

She turned to look.

“Huff… huff… It’s not, over yet.”

A few more were still standing.

Most were the ones she had already considered for passing, but some weren’t.

Cecilia pointed her wooden sword toward all of them.

“Pass.”

***

The mass recruitment for the Windsor Knight Order, led by Cecilia, was successfully completed.

Out of 2,010 applicants, only 30 were accepted.

Strictly speaking, fewer than 10 had actually passed her brutal test.

But due to Kairon’s insistence that 10 was too few, they also picked a handful from among the rejected candidates.

Cecilia accepted the compromise, albeit with slight reluctance.

After all, she could train them later.

‘I’ll take great care of them.’

Sure, the test had been tough. But that was just to gauge ability.

Now that these adorable newbies had made it through, she planned to spoil them silly and shower them with affection.

And yet…

“Riharten and four others! Reporting for commission!”

Wait, why were there only 5…?

She clearly picked 30.

“Huh?”

Cecilia was genuinely confused.

Next Chapter