Arthur’s conditions for our contest were as follows:

The contest was to be a dungeon challenge.

Five days from now, on Saturday at 11 AM, we would both enter the dungeon, and whoever delves the deepest by 6 PM that day would win.

The dungeon party members could include one professor or upperclassman, but the rest had to be first-year students.

Attacking each other was forbidden.

There were several other minor rules, but those weren’t particularly concerning.

<What are you planning to do?>

As soon as I parted ways with Arthur, Gramps asked me in a low voice.

‘What do you mean? I’m going to win.’

<In a situation where you can barely find anyone to join you in the dungeon?>

That was a problem, indeed.

My reputation was already in tatters.

After my confrontation with Arthur, there’s likely a rumor that I’m now at odds with the third prince. Who would side with me under these circumstances?

Who would risk angering Arthur to team up with the bratty lady?

Probably no one.

And even if someone did, they’d likely be someone mentally unhinged, making it better not to bring them along.

‘But I do have one person.’

Ordinarily, Freyr, who’s walking beside me, would be one of those people, but in this situation, she seems almost angelic.

‘Freyr…’ “Lousy knight.”

“You’re asking if I’ll join your party, right?”

Oh? Why is she so perceptive today?

Usually, even if I spoke to her, she’d tilt her head in confusion.

“I’ll do it. But I have a condition.”

A condition Freyr might ask for?

Is there even such a thing?

She’s the type who seems content just swinging a sword and sparring.

“Spar with me!”

‘Huh? Sparring?’ “What? Sparring?”

“Yep!”

‘But we...’ “We spar every day until we’re sick of it. Lousy knight, have you lost your mind?”

Freyr and I spar every evening after classes. Since both of us are practically unmatched among our peers, sparring benefits us both.

So asking me to spar doesn’t count as a request.

“You might make excuses and skip it later!”

Ah, so you’re trying to make sure I don’t back out in the future by putting a leash on me in advance?

You may be dull most of the time, but you can be surprisingly cunning.

‘Alright.’ “Alright. Lousy knight.”

I had no intention of avoiding sparring with Freyr in the first place.

Finding someone to spar with at this wretched academy is a challenge.

Ever since I beat that third-year senior to get the Underdog skill, people in the training grounds have been avoiding me like the plague!

The only one who could potentially replace Freyr is Carl, but he’s been busy lately, so it’s hard to just call on him.

“Promise?” ‘Yes.’ “Sure.”

Freyr, satisfied with my nod, dashed ahead on her own.

<You’ve got one spot filled, and if you take your knight, that’s another. But what about the last one?>

‘I’ll have to figure that out now.’

Given the current situation, the best balance would be Favi or Joy.

I’m enough to handle the frontline, so I need someone who can provide support from the rear.

Since I can take on the role of a healer, having Joy in the party would be ideal, but I haven’t spoken to her since the Pathetic Prince incident.

I don’t know what she thinks of me now.

Given her naturally kind disposition, she probably doesn’t hate me, but that doesn’t mean she’d be willing to help.

As for Favi…

Well, she has a heart as pure as snow, so maybe if I bow my head and beg, she might help out of pity.

Though with my Mesugaki skill, I doubt I could ever do something that humiliating.

Maybe I’d say something like, “I’ll give you a chance to help me, Lousy Saint.”

But I should at least try to ask.

If that doesn’t work, I might have to resort to threatening an extra to join us.

•  

“Your Highness, the Third Prince.”

It was lunchtime at the academy.

Arthur, who was eating with his friends, raised an eyebrow when Joy Patran suddenly appeared.

His expression was never particularly pleasant, but today it was even worse.

And since she had come alone, without any of her usual entourage, she seemed quite angry.

“Joy. What brings you here?” “I have something to discuss. Can we speak privately?” “Hm. This works out well. I had something to say to you as well.”

Arthur, maintaining his princely decorum, excused himself from his friends and led Joy out to the garden outside the dining hall.

As soon as they reached a secluded spot, Joy’s voice turned as cold as ice.

“I believe you can guess why I’m here.”

“You’re here because I challenged Lucy Allen to a contest?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” “I don’t see what the problem is. We simply agreed to a fair contest.”

“A fair contest? From what I hear, the terms are heavily skewed against Lady Allen.”

Starting with the dungeon challenge itself.

While Lucy struggled to form a four-person party, Arthur could assemble his team however he liked.

No matter how talented Lucy Allen might be individually, a mismatch in party members would inevitably put her at a disadvantage.

And that wasn’t the only issue.

The ban on direct combat between the two parties.

The lack of restrictions on the use of magical items.

Every condition favored Arthur.

Even the outcome of the contest—Arthur had nothing to lose, while Lucy had much at stake. Calling this a fair contest was an insult to the god of contracts.

“Does that matter? She agreed to it, didn’t she?”

Arthur’s calm response made Joy’s eyes narrow.

“You forced her into a position where she had no choice.”

Arthur responded with a smile, acknowledging her point.

It was true that he had used Lucy Allen’s reputation to pressure her into accepting.

“Even so, she nodded her agreement.”

Afraid of the public’s gaze and potential criticism, Lucy Allen had accepted the proposal.

When Arthur said this, Joy fell silent.

Technically, Arthur wasn’t in the wrong.

“Moreover, wasn’t it Lucy Allen who started this? I only decided to do this because she called me the ‘Pathetic Prince.’”

And from a moral standpoint, it’s hard to argue against this.

Lucy Allen was the one who had provoked Arthur in the first place.

Arthur was merely choosing to retaliate against the insult.

“I don’t see why you have any issue with this.”

Joy was well aware of all these facts.

No matter how sheltered she might have been as the daughter of a duke, she still had a basic sense of political dynamics.

“Joy, do you still feel indebted to Lucy Allen?”

The reason she had come to Arthur, despite knowing all this, was because Joy still considered Lucy Allen her benefactor.

When Arthur pointed this out, Joy bit her lip slightly.

“Yes, and is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not wrong. But it’s disappointing.”

Arthur’s voice softened as he stepped closer to Joy.

Although Joy was tall for a woman, it was still within the average range for women. Compared to Arthur, who could match up with most adult men, she was smaller.

His icy blue eyes, like frozen crystals, gazed down at her.

“We’ve known each other for so long, and yet you side with that insolent lady?”

“My parents taught me to always repay my debts.”

“They seem like admirable people who provided you with an excellent education.”

Despite the slightly threatening tone in his words, Joy didn’t back down an inch, and Arthur inwardly smiled bitterly.

In the past, she would have shown at least a hint of fear.

She really had changed since returning from that dungeon.

“So, what is it you want to say?”

“From the beginning, Your Highness never intended to forgive Lady Allen. The contest was simply an excuse to humiliate her. It’s despicable.”

“Yes, Joy. You’re right. So what’s the problem with that?”

After hearing her out, Arthur spread his arms wide and raised his voice.

“I was taught differently from you. Not only to repay kindness but also to repay enmity. Lucy Allen touched a nerve. A nerve deep inside of me! So, I will repay her by humiliating her! Is there a problem with that? Answer me!”

Arthur, who had been shouting with veins bulging in his neck, saw Joy’s resolute expression and cleared his throat, brushing his face with his hand.

“Seeing how you feel, I guess you’re not interested in hearing my proposal.”

“You were going to ask me to join your party?”

“Yes.” “I must respectfully decline. However, out of respect for our relationship, I won’t assist Lady Allen either.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Just as Joy was about to take her leave, Arthur stopped her.

“Joy, may I ask you one question?”

“What is it?”

“Who do you think will win?”

“Lady Allen will win.”

Joy answered without the slightest hesitation, even though she had just pointed out how unfair the contest was.

Arthur let out a dry laugh at her response.

“Why do you think that?”

“Haven’t I told you before? If it weren’t for Lady Allen, I would be dead.”

Until now, no one had believed Joy when she talked about how amazing Lucy Allen was.

To everyone else, Lucy Allen was just the bratty lady.

They all thought the Duke’s daughter was being overly humble.

But Joy kept talking about Lucy Allen.

Because it was true.

“I have little experience in dungeon exploration, but I doubt anyone is better at it than Lady Allen.”

With those words, Joy gave a formal bow and turned to leave.

After a while, left alone, Arthur stared blankly into the air before letting out a long sigh.

•  

Unfortunately, Favi declined my request.

She said it was difficult to say which side was right, so she couldn’t take either.

It was a very Saint-like response.

I wasn’t surprised since I had expected this outcome from the start.

At least she didn’t side with Arthur.

Given the circumstances, I only had one option left.

That evening, after all the classes had ended.

When I made eye contact with the extra noble girl, she quickly stood up from her seat and tried to run, but since she was a necromancer and I was a knight, she couldn’t possibly outrun me.

Half-dragged to the table, the extra noble girl sat quietly with her legs neatly together, nervously watching me.

“What do you need?”

‘I need someone to work with me.’ “I need someone to help me. And it turns out even a lousy extra like you would do.”

Her face turned pale when I got straight to the point.