Simon has his own plans.

In competitive conferences, group melee is the first to arrange, while teams with a large crowd are the first to arrange the game in group melee.

Currently, only Fatty, Miller, Gabriel and Pedi, who are participating in the group melee under Simon, and there are only five people in total. Once anyone who is injured in the team battle is replaced or is injured in the next game, he will suffer a great loss in the battle.

The young Roman boy and his comrades looked very good, otherwise he would not have lived in front of Simon from the Emirates of Samaritan to the slave ship to Provence and then to Dresden. If they could help Simon in the cruel melee, Simon would definitely have a few more points in his chances of winning.

In this way, the list of nine people who participated in the group melee in the name of Simon was recorded by the clerk on a large parchment full of the names and numbers of participating nobles. It is worth mentioning that since Rejel only brought his own servants over there, the number of people was too small, he had no intention of participating in the group melee.

In addition, Simon and Reggel both signed up for the single-player competition. If the winner is not decided immediately during the competition, they will move to a further hiking duel.

"Sir, your team melee game will be scheduled in two days. After the time for the single competition comes out, we will send someone to post the notice at the entrance of the King's Castle. We have to ask you to give your servants some attention." The young clerk raised his head and said respectfully to Simon while dipping his ink in the bottle.

In this way, Simon and Rejel and his group took Komuning and his three comrades back to the inner city of Dresden.

The hotel where Komuning and his group stayed is not far from the tavern where Simon and his group lived. In the past two days, Simon will bring Fatty and Komuning and others to get to know each other in the open space outside the city and train together.

……………………

Time soon came to Simon's day of competition.

It was a sunny morning, and the sun shook off the faint white frost on the grass, leaving drops of glittering dew drops remaining on the surface of the plant.

Many citizens walked towards the simple arena outside the city. The merchants entrusted the shop to their wives and apprentices to manage it, while the craftsmen simply put down their work and went outside the arena to join in the fun.

When Simon, Regel and Komuning came to the arena together, unlike the desertedness when they came to sign up two days ago, the outside of the arena was crowded with all kinds of spectators.

Here are poor people wearing barefoot clothes in rotten cloaks, hawkers wearing dyed linen robes and pointed loafers. There are mercenaries wearing cotton, leather, armor, and short swords on their waists, as well as travelers covered in dust and experiencing vicissitudes.

People chattered about the aristocrats who were about to participate and the recent rumors in the city, and some children were walking through the legs of adults and having a lot of fun.

Simon and his party bypassed the stinky civilian audience and arrived next to the wooden stands of only a few soldiers holding royal heraldry flags and scattered stars.

"I'm Simon of Dorsten, I want to know when my competition will start?" Simon found the clerk on the stands with the parchment paper recording the list of contestants.

"Sir, let me see," the clerk said, lowered his head and spread the parchment on the large wooden table, searching carefully with his fingers in the lines of names recorded in Latin, "Finally, Sir, your match will be held in the afternoon, and the opponents are Baron Edmund from the Earl Thuringian and eight soldiers under him."

"Very good, thank you." Simon nodded thinking. It seems that there should be a group melee of more than ten people in the morning.

"Thuringian, Baron Edmund..." Gabriel seemed to have heard of the name from somewhere. At this time, he kept chanting it silently, as if he was digging some memory in his mind.

"You can sit on the edges of both sides of the wooden stands, but your servants can only stand on the grass next to the stands." The clerk put away the rolls again, raised his head and said to Simon and Reggel on the horse.

So Simon and Rejel got off the horse and handed their horses to the fat man and the young servant to take care of them. Then they walked up to the wooden stand and chose a seat on the right edge of the stand.

Simon and Reger whispered for a while, and not long after, other low-level nobles came to the competition venue one after another and sat on both sides of the stands. At the same time, several teams who were about to participate in the morning were warming up in the areas marked for the participating teams on both sides of the arena, wearing armor, checking weapons, and joking with each other with ease on their faces.

"The king is here!"

A heavy and loud shout came from the avenue leading directly to the arena outside the city of Dresden in the distance. Simon and the nobles in the stands couldn't help but stand up and look into the avenue in the distance, trying to see the king of the kingdom.

"What are you still waiting for? Bend your knees and salute the king!"

A royal knight in exquisite full-body mail and burqa wearing royal heraldic burqa was running on the avenue on a beautiful white horse wearing royal heraldic garment, shouting loudly at the citizens who were still standing watching the fun on both sides of the road.

Wherever the royal knights rode, the people standing were like wheat blown down by the wind, bowed down and bowed on one knee. Simon and the low-level nobles around him reacted and saluted in the same manner.

Simon raised his head slightly, and his big, bright eyes looked directly at the king who had already reached not far away, and the dukes and bishops following him.

The king had long, slightly white curly hair, sharp eyes like an eagle and a high nose bridge. His beard was carefully trimmed and looked neat. The king was not wearing armor, but was wearing a bright Tyr purple robe and a cloak with the royal spear herald of the royal family, riding a strong white war horse, slowly advancing on the avenue.

The dukes and bishops riding horses behind the king were dressed equally noble and gorgeous. Simon found two familiar figures among them - Prince Otto who followed the king and the Bishop of Cologne in a white bishop's uniform.

Some soldiers drove the civilians blocking the road on the arena to the side. At the same time, several royal soldiers worked together to push the movable fence prepared for the king's entrance on the side of the stands. Then, the king and his group rode straight through the fence and rode to the front of the stands. With the help of the servants, they got off their horses and came to the seat in the middle of the stands.

There were no fancy opening ceremonies and performances in later generations. After the king, noble high-ranking nobles and clergy took their seats, the competition was about to officially begin.

A fat and fat messenger official, holding a roll of parchment paper, walked to the front of the stands, cleared his throat, and faced the stands with his unique rhythmic tone and shouted: "I am the royal messenger Siegfried, who welcomes you on behalf of the respected King Heinrich and the royal family! Less gossip, ahem, as we all know, in our Germanic tradition, we advocate force and heroes! Here, we are about to hold a grand martial arts competition to select the most respectable and loved warriors, and give them the royal prizes prepared by the royal family for the warriors, and give them the honor they deserve!"

"Oh oh oh!"

High cheers and screams came from the crowd. The simple words of the officials aroused the most primitive passion in everyone's heart. Whether it was civilians or nobles, everyone fantasized about becoming the warrior who stood at the end of the field and enjoying supreme honor.

"The first game will officially begin soon. The two sides of the showdown are Baron Reginod from the Principal of Frankia and his nineteen elite soldiers..." As he said, the messenger extended his right arm to a team of elite soldiers who were ready to go in the right area of ​​the participating team. Suddenly, the audience from Frankia and the nobles of the Principal of Frankia in the crowd were cheering loudly, and the scene was very lively.

"I have heard of Baron Reginold," Reger said quietly in Simon's ear, "his name is enough to make every Svaganza scare. In the past wars between the Duchy of Frankenia and the Duchy of Svaganza, the army led by Baron Reginold was undefeated, and he himself often rushed into the enemy's camp and killed the enemy. Everyone called him the fierce bear Reginold!"

Simon followed Regill's fingers and in the area of ​​the participating team on the right side of the field, a middle-aged man with a tiger back and a bear-waisted waist, a big beard with a rebellious face, a wide long-sleeved chain mail, a bright red heraldry burqa, and a beautifully decorated Norman helmet under his armpit was waving to the Duke of Frankenia in the center of the wooden stands.

"When Baron Reginold is the Baron Ernest from the Principal of Bavaria, and his nineteen soldiers!" The messenger said in his unique rhythmic tone, then raised his left arm to the left area of ​​the participating team on the arena.

“Oh oh oh !!!”

The audience from the Principality of Bavaria and admirers who had heard the Ernest name gave the most intense shouts, and the louder cheers directly overshadowed the cheers when Baron Reginold appeared just now.

At this time, Baron Ernest, the center of the focal length of the venue, waved to all those who supported him very gracefully.

"My Lord, it is Baron Ernest," Reger joined the cheering team without saying a word. When he was tired of shouting, he sat back on the seat of the stands with a red face and said to Simon tremblingly, "He is Ernest who is famous for the damn Magyars, and countless Magyars died in the hands of him and his elite cavalry. God, I would faint from excitement if I could see the striking figures in the mouths of countless minstrels!"

It took unknown how long it took for the wave of cheering to gradually fade away. Simon looked at the two barons' well-equipped private soldiers who were eager to try, and was looking forward to the next competition between the two teams. After all, if his team could successfully advance, it would inevitably face one of the two powerful teams.
Chapter completed!