Losa lightly squeezed the horse's abdomen with his legs, and the Arabian horse beneath him walked forward slowly. After a dozen meters, the warhorse gradually picked up speed, transitioning into a trot.

His breathing was very steady, and the lance he held was as firm as a mountain.

The surrounding noise from the crowd was automatically filtered out by him.

Compared to the initial surge of adrenaline during the charge, he now had the calmness of a still lake. One might say only blood can temper a veteran.

On the opposite side.

Jeanne, riding a black Akhal-Teke horse, raised her lance and assumed a charging stance.

She did not wear a helmet, and her golden hair gleamed under the scorching sun, flowing with the wind.

The sound of hooves thundered like thunder.

The intense wind howled past their ears.

As the two were about to collide.

The world seemed to freeze, and everyone slowed to half-speed.

Losa clearly saw Jeanne give him a quick wink, and then, the applewood lance in her hand shattered into countless wooden splinters on his plate armor.

Wood chips flew like raindrops, crashing onto his helmet.

Losa still held his lance, turning around in some surprise.

He actually missed?

How did she dodge that?

The knights watching were also in an uproar.

"Really? Did the Grand Master go easy on her?"

"Amazing, her reaction speed is too fast. Can a woman really reach this level? Compared to her, the so-called skirt-wearing female knight is just a joke."

"Hey, is it really okay to talk about that lady like this?"

"What's wrong with that? Didn't you see how she treated the Grand Master? Even though it was the Grand Master who saved her son from the Evil God, she kept trying to convince His Majesty to convict the Grand Master."

"Indeed, forsaking right and wrong for her own son, Stephanie the Lady can't even be considered a knight."

The noisy chatter around him didn't disrupt Losa's actions. He took a deep breath, removed his helmet, and praised, "Impressive! Let's go again."

Jeanne raised her spirited eyebrows: "Sounds good."

The two of them distanced themselves again.

This time, Jeanne didn't have to retrieve it herself; a knight jogged over eagerly offering an applewood training lance.

A rare excitement flashed across Urding's usually serene face, as he whispered to himself, "This is the Knight Saintess of the Holy Church. If I had such Power, I could have stepped up and stopped everything when Milan fell."

Although he was very dissatisfied with the Holy Church compromising with the Wolf Race and conspiring with dark creatures more and more, he held deep respect for the Saintess who always fought at the front lines against the dark creatures.

To evaluate a person, you shouldn't look at their appearance or pay attention to what they often say, but rather see what they've actually done.

The sound of hooves was like drumbeats.

From slow to fast.

A new charge began under the watchful eyes of many.

Bang—

The training lance shattered again.

But this time, it was Losa who hit the mark.

"Good!"

"The Grand Master's angle this time was truly tricky; if it were me, I wouldn't be able to dodge it either."

Everyone was satisfied with this result.

Jeanne smiled and raised the intact lance in her hand, gesturing towards Losa: "Very impressive, sir."

"Let's compete in Swordsmanship then."

Losa exhaled lightly; Jeanne obviously held back. Losa couldn't understand how someone could wield something as unadorned as a lance so skillfully.

His Spiritual Power was high, so he saw things more clearly than others.

When the two were about to cross paths, it wasn't that he dodged her lance, but rather her lance avoided his body. This detail was hard for onlookers to discern from their angle.

"Alright, I would love to see your artifact."

Jeanne dismounted with a slightly flippant gesture, patting "Grape" on the rump, signaling it to stay aside.

And "Grape" really did obediently run off, waiting outside the field.

Initially, it had been quite unruly, one wonders what kind of Magic this woman wielded.

The two assumed their stances.

"Be careful, this magic artifact is of high quality."

Jeanne laughed and said, "Sir, you can go all out, don't worry about hurting me, after all, I'm a Six-star."

Why does that sound a bit strange?

Losa slightly furrowed his brow, and the next moment, a gust of whirlwind came rushing towards him, Jeanne's borrowed knight's sword carrying a thunderous force, slashed downwards from above.

I hadn't had time to put down my visor!

This thought arose in Losa's mind, while at the same time, his hand moved instinctively, blocking the strike before his head even had time to react.

"So fast!"

"Both of them are so fast!"

"The swordsmanship of this female knight is amazing too?"

"The Grand Master is no less impressive; these two are the finest swordsmen I've ever seen. No wonder the Grand Master always throws his gauntlet to the Amalric Palace Minister, and he never dares to accept — if it were me, I wouldn't dare either!"

In the crowd, Amalric, who had been watching the excitement, suddenly had a grim look.

"Why am I involved?"

Hans watched intently; he was the highest-skilled in swordsmanship among them. While others might simply watch for fun, he could discern the "tricks" within.

"The swordsmanship of Sir and Miss Jeanne is almost comparable to mine."

However, in the last spar with Sir, I only used thirty percent of my strength and still defeated him.

What exactly has brought Sir's swordsmanship to such a rapid advancement?

Hans's face was filled with astonishment.

The sound of metal clashing in the field grew even denser.

The knights watched, mesmerized, feeling as if they were witnessing a divine battle, unable to understand but very aware that these two were extraordinarily skilled.

Belian exclaimed, "Baron Losa's swordsmanship is truly impressive, but this lady could match him... It's truly astonishing."

Baron Godfrey's tone was slightly sour, "I always thought that old Werner, apart from being better at fighting, wasn't as good as me in any other way."

"But now it seems he's even better at fathering sons than me."

Belian was speechless.

Godfrey snorted, "Despite having consumed the precious magic potion and being by Your Majesty's side as a flag bearer knight, you hadn't shown any progress. Belian, don't you feel ashamed?"

Belian felt perplexed, Godfrey had never spoken this way to him before.

Knight Kevin whispered a persuasion, "Sir, you're thinking too much. For someone like Baron Losa, no young man could compare."

Godfrey was silent.

A moment later, he smiled bitterly, "Indeed, I shouldn't blame you."

"This time, Losa almost single-handedly turned the tide, repelling Saladin, and with Your Majesty's favor for him, he will at least be granted Bethlehem or Hebron."

Knight Kevin added, "Moreover, Your Majesty took away Reynard's title of Count of Transjordan. I believe there's a strong intention to grant this title to Baron Losa."

Godfrey nodded, "I think so too. Once we return to Jerusalem, there should be results."

Belian, next to them, only felt like he was listening to a heavenly script.

Losa, about to be granted the title of Count?

His own father was only a baron.

"Kid, don't look at me like that; haven't I taught you, a Count isn't necessarily nobler than a baron."

Godfrey said grumpily.

"Even if Your Majesty grants Losa the title of Count of Transjordan, it is likely to be just one city because Eira Port and Alandler Bishopric (southern Transjordan), are now in the hands of Heretics. Petra, Tafila Bishopric (eastern Transjordan), Montreal, and Kaler Castle are all claimed."

Hebron, strictly speaking, isn't legally part of Transjordan but is under the direct jurisdiction of the royal family, located at the border of Palestine and Transjordan.

Since it's long been in Reynard's hands, it has gradually been categorized under Transjordan's territory.

"And as for me, I have the fief of one city and two castles; even if he becomes a Count, I'm no worse off than him, rather, I can outshine him."

Belian somewhat perfunctorily praised, "I understand, Father, you're a baron with more wealth and actual power than a Count; I've always known that."

Meanwhile, the battle in the field reached a feverish stage.

Accompanied by a crisp sound, a sharp sword tip flew into the air, embedding in the soil.

Jeanne spread her hands; the Armed Sword she borrowed in battle was directly cut and broken by Losa, and the battle naturally came to an abrupt end.

"Sorry, knight, how much does your sword cost? I'll compensate you!"

The knight looked pained, but managed to put on a nonchalant expression, "No problem, ma'am, it's a privilege for it to fight in your hands until the last moment."

Jeanne raised her hand and nodded lightly, "Thanks, knight."

"I... I'm Valentine of Lance..."

Before the knight had the chance to finish his name, he saw the blonde female knight's graceful figure gradually moving away.

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