It was a day with clear skies, warm sun, and a gentle breeze.
Since it was March, it was also the season for cherry blossoms.
The trees were full of blossoms, a vibrant display of pink.
Like pink fairies, they swayed gently in the breeze, adding a touch of romance to the spring.
The scent of the flowers carried on the breeze, refreshing and invigorating.
This was Helen's Hill, an ancient town located in a European country.
Even in this country, it wasn't well-known, let alone internationally.
The town's claim to fame, its only notable feature, was a school located on the outskirts.
Winford Academy, a prestigious school with a long history.
The students who attended were either wealthy, powerful, or exceptionally talented individuals.
The school was also renowned for its "mounted lance combat" competition.
While it was a niche sport, for those who loved it, Winford Academy was considered a "holy ground," a world-class school for equestrian lance fighting.
Besides regular academic subjects, the school also offered training in related disciplines.
The school was divided into three departments: General Studies, Knights, and Knight Support, as the names suggest, to cultivate competitors and support personnel.
It could be considered a professional school for "mounted lance combat."
Mounted lance combat was a specialized sport where riders used lances to strike opponents while riding on horseback.
However, this didn't hinder the noble girls who embodied the spirit of knighthood, nor the students who loved the sport.
“Ah!”
“President!”
“Senior, go for it!”
“…”
At this moment, a training ground within the school was bustling with activity.
Numerous students, alerted to the event, gathered around, watching two youthful figures in armor, mounted on noble steeds, their skirts billowing in the wind as they brandished their lances.
They charged at each other, their lances aimed at each other's backs.
“Crack!”
As they crossed paths, their lances clashed, one aimed at the other’s back.
The next second, one of the contestant's lances shattered, and the other, having been struck, was thrown off balance, but managed to stay on her horse.
They passed each other, the one who had struck the other earning a point.
This was the rule: a strike on the arm earned one point, a strike on the abdomen earned two points, and three points won a round.
If a rider fell or lost their lance, they lost the round.
Finally, if a rider's plume (the feather on the side of a knight's helmet) was knocked off, they would win regardless of points or rounds.
While the rules were simple, mounted lance combat was more complex than it appeared.
Beyond strength and skill, strategy played a crucial role.
Similar to the story of Tian Ji's horses, even if one was weaker than their opponent, by skillfully utilizing their strengths against their opponent's weaknesses, capitalizing on mistakes or overconfidence, one could still emerge victorious in the competition.
Though niche, the competition was breathtaking and thrilling.
And if the contestants were beautiful and spirited young girls, they would attract even more attention.
After all, simply watching a group of beautiful girls compete was a feast for the eyes!
This is why this ancient sport continued to have a market and audience in the modern world.
“President! President! President!”
As the two contestants returned to their respective areas to prepare their lances for the next round, the students watching or participating in the event cheered and rejoiced for the scoring side.
Although there weren't many people, the atmosphere was lively and exciting.
This was, perhaps, the charm of this sport.
“Sss—“
“Da-da-da…”
“Hm?”
Amidst this spectacle, the figure on the field preparing their lance noticed something out of the corner of their eye.
A horse, without a rider, was running through the campus. It was unclear why it had bolted from the side of the competition ground.
But because of the training and competition taking place, most students didn't notice it.
Well, even if they had.
At that horse's speed, no ordinary person could catch it.
The figure wanted to take care of it, but she was currently on the competition ground.
By the time she reacted, the panicked horse was already a distant dot.
She could only have someone call and let the relevant personnel handle the situation.
As the competition continued, the horse, having run through parts of the school, crossed a cherry blossom "sea" and a small bridge, finally reaching its destination.
No, to be precise, it was stopped by a pink-haired girl.
“Eh?!”