Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress's Knight Tournament - Part I

Arcadia’s Ignoble Knight, Vol. 3

The Sorceress Knight Tournament I

Brandon Varnell

Illustrated by

Claparo Sans

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Arcadia’s Ignoble Knight, Vol. 3

Copyright © 2022 Brandon Varnell & Kitsune Incorporated

Illustration Copyright © 2022 Claparosans

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ISBN: 978-0997802-86-3 (paperback)

978-0-998994-24-6 (eBook)

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Dedication

This page is made in dedication to my amazing patrons. Without them, my characters would never get lewded by so many wonderful artists:

Aaron Harris; Abraham Madsen; Adam; Alarinnise; Alex Burt; Armando Pastrana; Aaron Cortrighr; Austin; Brendan Smiley; Bruce Johnson; Bryce McClay; ByzFan; Casey G. May; Catcrazy9; Chase Corso; Charles Dorfeuille; Chett Nialo; Christopher Gross; Cody Woodard; CosmicOrange; Daniel Glasson; David Bell; Edward Grindle; Edward Lamar Stephenson; Edward P Warmouth; Eric Bailey; Feitochan; Forrest Hansen; Forrest Hansen; G___Sweet; Grant; Green and Magenta Beast; IronKing; Jacob Flores; Jared B; Jason Wilcox; Jeremy Schultz; Jessy Torres; John Patton; Jordan McDonald; Joseph Snyder; Joshua Hasbell; Manny G; Mark Frabotta; Mason; Matthew Wallace; Max A Kramer; Michael Erwin; Michael Moneymaker; Mike Dennehy; Minocho; MrRedSkill; Nathan S; Norodim; Nyxterrynne; Phoenixblue; Philip Hedgepeth; Rafael; Randgofire23; Raymond T; Red Phoenix; Reent Dopychai; Repooc Ilahsram; Richard Garret; Rob Hammel; Robert Shofner; Rooser45; Roy Cales; Samuel Donaldson; Sean Gray; Seismic Wolf; Smudi Corp; Tanner Lovelace; Thomas Jackson; Thomas Lindsay; Thomas Oconnell; ToraLinkley; Travis Cox; Vincent Frosceno; William Crew; Wizard4Hire; XY172; Zach Miller; Zach Strickland; Zak Whiteaker; Zenn Barger

Contents

Prologue

Interlude

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Interlude II

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Interlude III

Chapter 8

Interlude IV

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

Thank you for reading!

Afterword

Sneak Peak

Manga Page 1

Manga Page 2

Manga Page 3

Manga Page 4

Manga Page 5

Hey, did you know?

Brandon’s LNs

American Kitsune

WIEDERGEBURT

MMG

Catgirl Doctor

Incubus

A Most Unlikely Hero

Arcadia’s Knight

Journey of a Betrayed Hero

Rift

Executioner

Follow me!

Prologue

The entire student body of Arcadia’s Knight Academy had amassed within the central courtyard.

Caspian gazed at the myriad of faces. He saw some people that he knew and many more that he didn’t know. While the academy wasn’t very large, housing at most 100 to 150 students at any given time, that was still 150 more students than Caspian associated with.

Wow! There are so many people here!

… Make that 149 students that he never associated with.

I’m surprised all of us can fit in this little courtyard!

Caspian ignored Christo as he, standing at the edge furthest from everyone else, stared at the gathered crowd.

The courtyard they stood in was the largest one within the academy. Located at the very heart of the academy itself, it was shaped like an oval and spanned nearly fifty meters in length and thirty in width. A colonnade surrounded the courtyard. Beautifully decorated Corinthian columns wound around it at even intervals of precisely one meter. Caspian had learned from his history lessons that these courtyards, this one and all of the others, had been created by Talia el Terrancestaur, a Sorceress who’d died during the war in which humanity eradicated the goblins centuries back.

The instructors were also present. From his position, Caspian could make out several instructors that he knew, including Instructor Murdock, the hard-ass weapons instructor who hated his guts.

It had only been a month since Caspian had returned from Ashtown, where he had protected the Sorceress Erica Demonica de Angelo from two elven assassins. He wouldn’t say he had gotten over what happened. People didn’t get over taking a life so easily. He had, however, accepted and learned to live with it. There would be times when he would have to take a life. He knew that even if he didn’t like it.

Life had returned to a semblance of normality, and yet, life had also taken a drastic turn. The number of rumors spread about him had gone up; people didn’t even bother whispering when they talked poorly of him in the halls; malcontent for him seemed to have increased since he’d been gone.

Caspian had learned from Christo that Julius was the source of these rumors. According to his roommate, Julius and his friends had been telling all and sundry about how he had only been allowed to attend the academy because he was Sylvia de Floresca’s manwhore. Apparently, someone had learned that Sylvia was the one who’d allowed him entrance into the academy, and they’d made sure that everybody else knew it, too.

What else is new?

Caspian did his best to ignore the glares and rumors. It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before. Every time the headmaster sent him out on a mission, he’d come back to discover that the other students’ hatred of him had risen dramatically. Everyone would eventually go back to ignoring his existence soon enough, with a few exceptions like Julius, who antagonized him for reasons he couldn’t fully understand. He’d only have to put up with this for a few more days—a week at most—then the status quo would return.

It still hurts…

Hey, Caspian, Christo interrupted his musings.

Caspian sighed. What?

You okay? You were making a really funny face for a second there.

I’m fine.

Christo didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t get the chance to say anything else, for at that moment, Headmaster Stratello appeared on the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

Every student looked up at him. Even Caspian had to admit that the old man cut an impressive figure, standing up there in his military-esque uniform, his muscles bulging like someone who'd spent his entire life swinging around claymores single-handed.

The headmaster was a man in his later years and well past his prime. Despite this, as well as the fact that all of his hair had long since turned gray, he didn't look much older than someone in their mid to late thirties. What’s more, the slicked-back hair, mustache, and general demeanor lent him a slightly younger but still mature presence.

Thank you all for coming out here so quickly, the headmaster began, instantly quelling any and all conversations. I know that you are all very busy and would like to get back to your studies.

Sarcasm. There was a hint of it in his voice, along with a healthy dose of reprieve. Several students had the decency to look abashed. They were likely the ones that the headmaster was talking about.

Serves them right. Do they not realize how hard being a Sorceress’s Knight is? This isn’t a game.

Caspian raised a hand to his face and stared at it, seeing the blood that it was now stained with, visible even though it was no longer present. Being the Knight for a Sorceress was anything but a game. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

Because I know you’re all busy, I will get straight to the point, Headmaster Stratello continued. Exactly two months from this Monday, Arcadia’s Knight Academy will play host to the Sorceress’s Knight Tournament.

Caspian felt a jolt travel through his body, going from his spine all the way down to his feet, and then back up to his brain.

The tournament. Could this mean…

The crowd broke into speculative whispers. It was only after the headmaster held up a hand for silence that everyone ceased muttering.

Only those who are at least eighteen years of age may participate, the headmaster’s voice pierced through Caspian’s thoughts like Odin’s spear parting the heavens. Several students groaned, but the old man ignored them. To those of you who are planning to enter, I will warn you now: this tournament will test more than just your ability to fight. It will test your cunning, your courage, your intelligence, and your heart. Those who are weak, those who lack conviction, will be weeded out by this tournament. Only those who are truly worthy of bearing the title of Sorceress’s Knight will succeed.

Headmaster Stratello threw his arms wide in a grand, all-encompassing gesture. It looked odd coming from him, especially since he normally wasn’t one for theatrics.

He must be getting into this.

This is a chance for those of you who’ve been here for at least four years to prove yourselves, to show us how much you’ve learned, to prove how strong you’ve become. I look forward to seeing the results of your training.

As the headmaster spun around and left the balcony, chattering broke out amongst the Knight candidates. Some complained about the age restriction, while others boasted about how they planned on winning the tournament single-handedly. Only a few people remained silent; Caspian, and an older student standing at the opposite end of the courtyard, wearing a large fedora and a crimson shoulder cape.

Lost within his own thoughts, Caspian vacated the courtyard.

Well, Christo said, sounding chipper as always, that just happened. I take it you plan on entering the—eh? Caspian? O-oi! Wait up, Caspian!

Caspian ignored Christo as he strode down the hall, his mind awhirl. He’d be turning eighteen in two weeks, which meant he could enter the tournament, if he so chose. The idea appealed to him, he wouldn’t deny that. However…

Could Ele be the Sorceress they’ve selected?

There was no way of knowing that yet. The Sorceress selected to take part in this wouldn’t be known for another month, at least. He would wait until then to decide whether or not he would enter the tournament.

He looked at his right hand. Leather creaked as he clenched it into a fist. Unbidden, a tiny smile appeared on his face.

I might finally be able to keep my promise, he thought to himself, fondly recalling the young girl with golden hair and long, pointed ears, whom he had befriended many years ago.

Interlude

Sylvia de Floresca sat behind her desk, elegantly writing on a sheet of parchment. It was about the Sorceress’s Knight Tournament. Five years ago, the tournament had taken place in Midgard Academy, the second-highest ranked Knight school in Terraria. This would be the twenty-fifth tournament held at Arcadia’s Knight Academy since its founding.

Standing beside her, one hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword, faithfully keeping his silent vigil, was her Knight. D’artagnan el Melloi was a middle-aged man with angular features. His face appeared to have been chiseled from stone, further hardened by his intense demeanor. Long bangs framed his face, and a light fringe hovered over eyes of burnished steel.

He wore light armor. His leather jerkin rustled whenever he shifted, dark brown and freshly polished. The shoulder pauldrons, greaves, and vambraces that he’d donned were made of Mythril, and they shone brightly underneath the light of the afternoon sun, which streamed in through a window at their backs.

She didn’t have any duties for him to attend, so she let him stay with her while she worked. One of the things that she appreciated about D’artagnan was his ability to remain silent. Unlike her previous Knight, who’d died of old age half a century ago, her current one only spoke when necessary, and he only said as much as was required to get his point across. He was an exemplary Knight.

I hope Caspian can eventually become like him.

Thinking of the young man made her wonder what he was up to. Last she’d heard, he had returned home, back to Arcadia’s Knight Academy. This pleased her. She didn’t enjoy the thought of Caspian being with that wretched woman, Erica, any longer than necessary. She couldn’t afford to have the loquacious Sorceress sink her claws into him. Caspian belonged to another.

Speaking of which, I should call for Elincia and make sure she has packed everything. We’ll be leaving in a few days.

Pressing a button on her intelecom—a new device created by Karen Hildegarde that allowed long-distance speech through airwaves using wind magic crystal to amplify and control sound—she spoke into the small speaker box.

Lacy, can you please fetch Elincia for me?

Right away, My Lady, came a voice from the other end.

Sylvia leaned back in her chair. While she waited for Elincia to arrive, she returned to her work. Putting aside the report on the Sorceress’s Knight Tournament, along with the addendum report about the Sorceress Festival and Parade, she grabbed another paper from the stack on her desk. Glancing at it, she frowned.

Another group of peasants has gone missing in the east. If I am not mistaken, that is near the city of Du’ugton, a rural town located in the mountains.

While missing people were reported daily, the number of groups who randomly vanished was increasing in the far reaches of Arcadia. She’d had the Sorceress Council send someone to investigate, but they hadn’t heard back yet.

Perhaps it would be wise to send another Sorceress, but with the tournament fast approaching, I haven’t the personnel necessary to designate someone for this task.

My Lady Sylvia, Duke De’Falco Genitore is here to see you, a male voice said from her intelecom.

Staring at the object with a frown, Sylvia eventually sighed and pressed the communication button. Very well. Please send him in.

Yes, My Lady.

As she waited for the count’s arrival, Sylvia turned her attention to D’artagnan. Tell me about this Duke De’Falco Genitore, please.

Being over one thousand years old, Sylvia could scarcely remember the names of nobles anymore. In truth, she didn’t particularly care to. The time of the nobles had ended. Now it was time for the people of Terraria to rule over themselves, and it was the Sorceress’s job to help oversee the continued peace and prosperity of this continent.

D’artagnan didn’t speak at first, but Sylvia had grown used to this. Knowing him, her Knight was reviewing all the information he possessed about the duke before he spoke. It was another reason that she appreciated this Knight in particular.

Duke Callisto De’Falco Genitore is currently one of the highest-ranking members of the nobility; a duke who was given his own dukedom two years ago. However, his family originally belonged to the lower-class nobility. After the untimely death of his parents, Duke De’Falco swiftly rose through the ranks, using a combination of ruthless cunning, inspired political tactics, and accruing favors from other nobles. He is not to be underestimated.

Lacing her fingers together, Sylvia silently contemplated what she’d been told. She would admit to being impressed by his history, though she’d make her own estimation of the man when they met.

He sounds like a person to be wary of, but he could also prove to be a powerful ally. The doors opened, and a figure walked in. I suppose I shall see where this man stands with my own two eyes.

Callisto De’Falco Genitore looked every bit the immaculate prince. Short wavy hair shimmered as if freshly washed, and his matching trimmed goatee lent him a certain roguish air. Keen eyes of the brightest blue shone with a sharp intellect, and his smile was almost deceptively friendly.

Trousers made from the finest fabrics rustled as he confidently strode up to her desk. His tabard ended below his knees, and it was colored a dark crimson. It complemented his black mantle, trimmed with chinchilla fur and pinned at the shoulders with a silver brooch that had a blood-red gem in the center. A sword hung from the scabbard at his side, lazily swinging back and forth.

Sylvia sensed no hostility from the man, so she let him approach. Beside her, D’artagnan studied the duke with eyes that were sharper than any blade.

Duke De’Falco Genitore, Sylvia greeted in a polite, if detached, tone of voice. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?

I have heard that you were not one for small talk, the duke said with an amiable smile. I can see that the rumors were true, as were the rumors of your unparalleled beauty.

So, flattery, is it?

Sylvia recognized her physical features for what they were. Indeed, many men throughout every era had complemented her appearance. She didn’t understand why. Unlike Erica and her salacious ways, Sylvia did not require the company of a man to make her feel whole, nor would she ever. Sex, love, attachment. These were distractions that all Sorceresses should avoid, lest they end up like that loquacious witch.

As the head of the Sorceress Council, I am a very busy woman. Pleasantries and banter are for those who have the time and desire necessary to devote themselves toward such a banal exercise.

And your tongue is quite sharp as well. If the duke was bothered by her words, then he did not show it. Very well. As you are no doubt strapped for time, I shall get straight to the point. This year is the twenty-fifth Sorceress’s Knight Tournament to be held in Arcadia. It is a momentous occasion, where all five nations of Terraria come together. There will be many foreign dignitaries coming to support their candidates, who are striving to prove themselves worthy of being a Sorceress’s Knight. This means that Arcadia is in the unique position to increase our economic growth.

This man… he is quite ambitious.

Sylvia narrowed her eyes, thoughtfully studying the man before her. Behind that handsome face and affable smile, there definitely existed a keen mind. She would, indeed, have to be wary around him. For now, however, she would hear him out.

I am listening.

As you know, MagiTech originated with Karen Hildegarde, who resides in Helheim. It was this technological advancement that allowed Helheim to gain a seat on the Sorceress Council, and it also made their standing as a country rival ours. While Sorceress Hildegarde only seems interested in her own devices, we have continued to churn out invention after invention to keep our economy stronger than all of the others.

Such was the way of the nobility. They were always worried about the standing of their country among other countries, each one vying to raise their countries banner and expand their power base, while cementing their own power within their motherland. She supposed it was the way of the ambitious and platitudinous. They strove for something greater than themselves, perhaps as a means to ensure that their names lived on after they were gone.

Sylvia didn’t understand it, but having lived for so long, she found the thoughts of those whose lives were far shorter than hers were incomprehensible.

I take it you have an idea?

Smiling what Sylvia imagined was supposed to be a charming smile, the duke spread his arms wide in a grand gesture, his cloak flaring out behind him.

Of course. My company, Harmonix, has created several new inventions, which I would like to showcase at the Sorceress’s Knight Tournament. Particularly, I would love to show them off during the Sorceress Festival that begins one month before the tournament. With so many nobles from other nations coming, it would be the most quintessential opportunity for our country.

I understand. You are seeking my permission to open stalls and display your inventions during the festival, Sylvia said.

I am.

Pondering his request for only a moment, Sylvia made her decision. "I do not see