Chương 165: Chapter 155 - The Exhibition

Chelsea"All of you can come!" Chelsea announced to her children.

"If you do find yourself getting bored, please let an attendant know and they will escort you back to the cathedral to play." The response was immediate. Several of the children brightened while others began talking among themselves about the outing.

"We won't get bored, Mom!" Ella, one of the eight year olds, said with confidence.

"I understand you won't, sweetheart. But there are younger brothers and sisters who get bored easier than you." Chelsea looked across the gathering. Some of the smaller children were already distracted by one another despite not having left yet. She turned toward Liam.

"Everything prepared?"

"Yes," he replied. He looked really uncomfortable. Since the coronation, Liam had attempted to return to calling Chelsea Your Grace. She had allowed it for a while before realizing just how often the two of them spoke during an average day. Hearing the title every few minutes had quickly become irritating. They had eventually reached an unspoken compromise. Liam simply avoided referring to her by anything unless it was actually necessary.

"Then let's get going. Form a line. You will be handed a card that will take you to our coliseum box. Anyone need to go to the bathroom? Now is the time." Chelsea smiled to herself. There it was again. Mom mode. She had somehow gone from worrying about high school grades to dealing with bathroom breaks for an ever-growing collection of children. The children began forming something that could generously be called a line while attendants moved among them with the teleportation cards.

Chelsea waited until the younger ones had someone nearby to help them before taking her own. A moment later, the cathedral disappeared. Chelsea materialized inside the Imperial box overlooking the coliseum. Her glow appeared with her. A roar immediately rose from the crowd. Chelsea stepped forward toward the open front of the box, and the cheering grew louder. She hadn't been entirely certain what kind of reception she would receive.

The one trip to the close orphanage had shown her that plenty of people were willing to kneel when expected, but that didn't necessarily mean they liked her. At least nobody was booing. Chelsea smiled and waved toward the stands. The coliseum was enormous. Its shape reminded her immediately of the Roman Colosseum, although the scale was much closer to a football stadium from Earth. Tiered seating rose high around the arena floor, and nearly every section appeared full.

Liam stepped up beside her while children continued appearing behind them through the teleportation cards. Attendants guided each new arrival toward the seating arranged throughout the Imperial box. He handed Chelsea a voice crystal. She held it near her mouth.

"Good afternoon, citizens, guests, and participants in today's exciting event." She paused as the crowd went insane at her words. Today we are here to display the best the Holy Knights have to offer. We will be ramping up levels of the knights three at a time in single combat with each other. There will be a secret main event at the end that I hope you all will stick around for." Again there was a crazy cheer. These people were starved for some sort of entertainment and it showed.

"Now let's stop talking and get started. First up we have two knights, both in the ten to thirteen level range and have been chosen as the best in their bracket to demonstrate the might of the newer knights." Chelsea lowered the crystal as another round of cheers rolled through the arena. Two Holy Knights in silver armor entered from opposite sides of the fighting area. Chelsea watched them approach before noticing three familiar figures standing farther back near the edge of the ring.

The trainers from Valhalla along with Gerard. Chelsea wanted to know what they thought of the Holy Knights' supposed best fighters. The Church clearly considered the men entering the arena exceptional for their levels, but Chelsea's standards had changed considerably since she had begun training with people from Valhalla. She raised the voice crystal again.

"These fights will end when one concedes, or is unable to continue fighting. The coliseum is enchanted to prevent deaths. Fatal wounds will result in passing out. Good luck." The knights took their positions. Chelsea moved closer to the railing as the fight began. Steel struck steel almost immediately. Several of her sons crowded around her to watch, leaning forward whenever one of the knights committed to an attack. Chelsea glanced over her shoulder.

Most of the girls had gathered farther back and were playing together instead. Two of her sons had joined them, one around five and the other nine. She found the split fascinating. It wasn't that none of the girls were interested. A few had taken seats where they could watch the arena. What caught Chelsea's attention was how clearly the larger group had divided itself once everyone was allowed to choose what they wanted to do. She turned back toward the fight. Both knights were skilled.

Their levels were low, which made their movements slower than what Chelsea had become accustomed to seeing, but their fundamentals were surprisingly solid. Their feet remained beneath them through exchanges, and neither wasted much movement. Chelsea found herself studying them more closely. Skipping out on watching the spectacle and focusing on the small details. Their foundation was better than Kira's. It might even have been better than some of the much higher-level knights Chelsea had sparred against.

That was very telling. The match ended several minutes later. One knight surrendered after being driven backward and losing control of his weapon. Chelsea's sons erupted.

"Mom! Did you see when he punched right after the sword hit?" one of her older sons asked.

"That was the turning point of the whole fight."

"I did, and good eye!" Chelsea smiled at him rather than correcting the assessment. She wasn't about to embarrass him in front of his brothers. The punch hadn't really been a turning point. There hadn't been one. One knight had simply been more skilled than the other. Chelsea had noticed the difference almost immediately. The better fighter steadily pushed his opponent into worse positions until the outcome became inevitable. The next match was much closer. It was also messier.

The fighters moved faster than the previous pair, but Chelsea began noticing mistakes almost immediately. Their movements weren't as controlled, and attacks were thrown before either knight had properly set himself. The difference bothered her. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. These knights were higher level. They were stronger and faster, but the quality of their training hadn't improved with those advantages. If anything, their fundamentals were worse.

By the time the match ended, Chelsea had begun forming a theory that plagued many higher level people, her mother included. The training didn't keep pace with the levels. The following matches did little to change her mind. The fighters became more and more dangerous as their levels rose, and greater skill began appearing again among some of them. Even then, Chelsea kept catching small problems that would've been punished immediately by anyone from Valhalla.

The fighters in the twenty five to twenty seven range were the first pair that truly caught her attention. They were considerably faster. More importantly, one of them wasn't carrying a sword. Chelsea leaned forward. The knight wielded a halberd, its long shaft ending in a spear point with an axe blade mounted beneath it. Finally! Something different. Even better, he clearly knew how to use it. The knight stayed outside his opponent's reach and used the length of the weapon to control the space between them.

He moved constantly, circling rather than allowing the swordsman to close directly. The crowd loved him. After watching mat ch after match dominated by swords, the change in style immediately drew louder reactions from the stands. Every quick retreat or sudden attack brought another burst of noise. Chelsea enjoyed watching him too. He was certainly flashy. Unfortunately, she could also see the problem. His footwork was sloppy.

He relied heavily on his speed and the reach of the halberd rather than maintaining a stable position beneath himself. Each aggressive movement carried him farther than necessary, and several attacks left him badly exposed. Chelsea could've tripped him repeatedly. Granted, Chelsea's preferred method of exploiting that weakness involved a tail, which wasn't exactly standard equipment. His opponent didn't have one. He did have a shield.

The swordsman remained patient behind it, absorbing or redirecting each attempt while gradually working closer. The halberd user kept moving, trying to maintain the distance he needed. For a while, it worked. Then he committed too heavily. Chelsea saw it happen before the attack had even finished. The halberd extended. The knight's weight followed it. His opponent stepped inside the weapon's effective range. The shield struck first. The follow-up sent the halberd wielder sprawling face-first across the arena floor.

The crowd exploded. Chelsea remained at the railing, staring down at the fallen knight. The fights were becoming more entertaining. They were also starting to tell her exactly where the Holy Knights' training was going wrong.

"Did you see that!?" one of her sons exclaimed. Chelsea couldn't help but giggle. Of course they had seen it. She didn't think a single one of the boys had looked away for more than a second during the entire fight. Several were still leaning over the railing as the defeated knight was helped from the arena. The matches continued, moving steadily through the higher-level brackets. Chelsea found herself paying less and less attention to the fights themselves and more to the differences between each group.

The higher levels made every fighter faster and more dangerous, but those advantages didn't always translate into better technique. Eventually, there was only one match left before the secret main event. Sir Erik, leader of the Third Battalion, entered the arena from one side. Sir Godrick, leader of the Second Battalion, approached from the other. Both men carried swords. More importantly, both wore armor made from the dragon scales Chelsea had provided to the Holy Knights. Chelsea was excited to see this fight.

"This is where it gets good," Chelsea announced to her kids. That caught the attention of a few of the girls who had been playing farther back in the Imperial box. They wandered closer while Chelsea moved toward the railing again. She had met with both battalion leaders several times since taking control of the Church. She had even found herself wondering which of them would win if they ever fought. Now she was about to find out. The two men couldn't have represented their battalions more differently.

Third Battalion knights were adaptive. Their attributes shifted depending on the situation, allowing them to change themselves during combat based on whatever they were facing. Second Battalion knights were reactive. Chelsea understood the basic explanation, but she had never actually watched one fight seriously. Their training relied heavily on instinct rather than consciously deciding how to respond to every attack. Sir Erik settled into position. Across from him, Sir Godrick remained almost completely still.

Chelsea leaned forward. Kira Kira wasn't particularly familiar with either battalion leader. She had seen them before and knew who they were, but she had never trained beneath either man. She was actually a little disappointed that the Lord Commander wasn't fighting in this round. There was still the secret main event, though. Rumors had been spreading among the Holy Knights since the exhibition was announced. The most popular claimed that Lord Commander intended to fight every officer in the Holy Knights at once.

Kira hoped that one was the true rumor. That would be something worth seeing.

"Which one will win?" her Aunt Fiona asked. Kira had chosen to sit with her new aunt and uncle rather than join Chelsea in the Imperial box. Dewey sat on Fiona's other side with Amber between the adults. She wanted more opportunities to spend time around the family she had missed out on, especially her little cousin.

"If I had to put money on it, I'd say the Third Battalion leader has the advantage." Kira explained.

"Which one is he?" her uncle asked from Fiona's other side. Kira looked toward the arena.

"The one on the right with the long blonde hair is the Second Battalion leader. The older gray-haired man is the Third. He is who I think will take it." Both knights were in position now. Someone standing near the edge of the arena gave the signal to begin. Sir Erik moved first. He crossed the distance almost immediately and brought his sword around in a sweeping strike so fast that Kira could barely follow the blade. Sir Godrick's hand moved to the hilt of his still-sheathed sword. Then he disappeared.

Kira's eyes widened. For a fraction of a second, she had no idea where he had gone. Then Sir Godrick was standing on the opposite side of the ring. Behind Sir Erik. The older knight took another step. His body seemed to realize something was wrong before he did. Sir Erik stumbled forward and fell face-first onto the arena floor. Silence fell over the coliseum. Kira stared in complete shock. The entire fight had lasted only a few seconds.

"I guess I was wrong," Kira mumbled. She still wasn't entirely sure what had happened. She hadn't been able to track Sir Godrick's movement. One moment his sword had been sheathed, and the next he was behind Sir Erik while the older man collapsed. Kira looked down at Amber, curious to see how the baby had reacted. Amber hadn't reacted at all. Her mother was holding a book open in front of her, and Amber's eyes hadn't even left the page. What the hell? The silence broke.

The entire coliseum erupted into cheers and applause. The sudden noise was so loud that Kira felt it through the seat beneath her. Amber finally looked up, but only long enough to press both hands against her ears with an irritated expression. Kira looked back toward the arena. Sir Godrick stood calmly near the center and raised one hand toward the spectators.

"What a match!" her sister's voic carried across the enormous building.

"Congratulations to Sir Godrick on this, an impressive and abrupt victory." Godrick turned toward the Imperial box and raised his hand in acknowledgment. He then made his way down from the fighting area while several knights hurried forward to help Sir Erik. The older man was conscious again but unsteady as they guided him toward the stairs.

"We are going to take a brief break before the main event starts, so please feel free to stretch your legs or grab some food and beverage. We will begin again in twenty minutes." The crowd immediately began moving. People stood from their seats while vendors started shouting for customers to try their food. Kira remained where she was, still thinking about how quickly the previous match had ended.

"So what do you think it will be?" Kira asked the other two next to her.

"Surely it has something to do with that Sir Liam that is always with Chelsea," her aunt said.

"I've heard he is the most powerful of the knights."

"Who knows," Kira said.

"With what we just watched not being the main event, it could be the Holy Knights fighting a greater dragon or something." Her imagination was starting to run away with her. Whatever Chelsea had planned had to be bigger than watching one of the most powerful battalion leaders in the Holy Empire defeat another. She glanced down again. Amber had already returned to her book.

"What do you think, Amber?" Kira asked. The baby finally looked up from the page. Her eyes met Kira's.

"Wa?" The sound caught Kira completely off guard. She looked down at the baby sitting between Fiona and Dewey.

"Did you just say 'what?'" Kira asked. Amber stared up at her with that look she gives people sometimes. Fiona shifted the book slightly in front of her.

"She can kind of say some words. Sometimes it's a guessing game. Amber, she asked who do you think the last fight will be?" Amber tilted her head to the side. She seemed to think about the question for several seconds before looking back up.

"Mama Wi." The baby said in the most adorable baby voice ever.

"Mama will?" Kira asked. She gestured toward Fiona.

"You?" Amber looked up and closed her eyes at Kira. Fiona leaned closer and began working through the limited sounds.

"Mama Wih? Okay, not me, so you mean… wih, wih… Wixx? Mama Wixx?" Amber immediately pointed at her with relief. Kira looked toward Fiona before glancing down at Amber again.

"You mean my mom? Adriane?" Amber's finger swung toward Kira. Apparently she had gotten it right. Kira sat back.

"So Adriane Wixx and the Lord Commander?" Amber closed her eyes again.

"No? Adriane and who?" Amber thought about it. Her face scrunched slightly before she managed another sound.

"Emp." the p sound was heavily emphasized.

"The Empress?" Kira asked. Amber pointed directly at her. There was no way.

"There's no way they would let my sister fight mom like that. Chelsea wouldn't stand a chance." Kira felt amazing calling them that out loud in conversation. Amber giggled. Then, apparently satisfied that she had answered the question, she looked back down at her book.