On the riverbed, Sir Wayne walked to the middle of the river, the clear water was just below his ankles, the chain mail on his body rattled, the underside of his smock was wet, and Sir drew his sword from his waist and pointed it at the opposite side.

"I am the son of Sir Robert, the eldest son of the House of Ott, Sir Hilton, the knight of the family of the Countess." When Earl Wayne put on a stance, a giant man wearing leather armor and a height of about 1.8 meters walked out from the direction of Randall, holding a two-handed sword in his hand.

"Sir Wayne, we agree to accept the outcome of the divine judgment on this duel, and the victor will receive water." The fat steward said to Sir Wayne, who was standing in the middle of the river, that the duel was considered to be the will of God in this era, and that the winner would be favored by God and justice.

"Thank you, Countess." Sir Wayne straightened up, he picked up his one-handed sword in a knightly salute, and Sir Hilton on the other side raised his greatsword in a salute.

"Drink~." Sir Hilton attacked first, raising his sword high and rushing towards Sir Wayne from the top position, his plan was to slash down from the right diagonal top, and the advantage of strong arms and height gave Sir Hilton the confidence to cut down Sir Wayne.

In the face of Sir Hilton's aggressive attack, Sir Wayne calmly clenched his one-handed sword, and he stepped out of the T-step to stabilize his lower plate.

"Scandium~~."

The swords collided with each other, making a loud noise, and the people on both sides of the river couldn't help but cover their ears, but before the echo disappeared, Sir Wayne used his agile movements to continue to attack, and his sword struck Sir Hilton's sword very quickly.

"Will Hilton win?" Just as everyone was engrossed in watching the duel in the river, a woman's voice came from behind the fat manager, with confidence and bewildering charm in her tone.

"Hilton is a three-time knight tournament winner, and of course he'll win." The fat steward hurriedly turned back and bowed, but a hand wearing delicate female leather gloves stopped him, and the fat steward reported to the noble lady.

"Of course I know about Hilton's success, but will God be on our side today?"

"Of course, the Lord God will always favor the strong." The fat steward said to the noble lady.

"How can we be sure that we are strong?" The aristocratic lady chuckled, dressed in a long black leather dress with gold thread trimmed at the edges, and a docile little white mare in her crotch, and she did not wrap her hair and chin in a turban, but let her beautiful red hair hang down her shoulders like a fierce flame.

"You are a strong man, honorable Countess." The fat manager lowered his head, but cautiously raised his eyes to look at the beautiful hostess in front of him.

The countess did not speak, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, and then she returned her gaze to the middle of the river, where Sir Wayne and Hilton were so inextricably struck that the river splashed under their feet, and the swords were constantly entangled.

"Whew, whew, whew." Sir Wayne took advantage of the opportunity to glide his sword past his opponent's blow and took three steps back to catch his breath, and Sir Hilton grinned widely, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth, he was not only tall but also strong in arms.

"The master is going to lose?"

One of Sir Wayne's young shield-wielding attendants said in horror that Sir Wayne was indeed at a disadvantage from the current situation.

"Shut up and watch, it's a knight's duel." But the other squire, who was a little older, licked his lips and said excitedly to his companion.

"But if Sir Wayne dies in a duel, we won't have a chance to become knights until we find the next knight to serve, not even three times a day." But the young shield-wielding squire did not dispel his worries, in fact, he was more worried about his three meals a day than he was about becoming a knight.

"Shut up, if Sir Wayne were just an ordinary knight, I wouldn't have chosen him to serve." The older squire rolled his eyes and said to his stupid companion.

"You mean he can win? How is this possible. Looking at the knight who was a head taller than Sir Wayne and much stronger than Sir Wayne, everyone felt that the other party had a better chance of winning, and even the rabble of villagers behind them shook their heads, no longer holding out any hope of victory.

However, the older squire had a high level of confidence in Sir Wayne, and he held the spear in his hand and looked at Sir Wayne in the duel.

"Whew." Sir Hilton gradually lost patience with this kind of fighting, he raised his big sword and swung it in mid-air, slashing at the top of Sir Wayne's head, Sir Wayne was forced to raise his sword to block, only to hear a loud scandium sound, Sir Wayne even knelt on one knee with a sword in the river.

"Oooooooo There was a cheer from Randall's camp, who believed that victory was already in sight.

"Uh-huh." Sir Wayne clenched the sword in his hands with both hands, and Sir Hilton's strength was his greatest strength, but also his greatest weakness.

"Crackle~~." When Sir Hilton's sword slid towards Sir Wayne's neck, Sir Wayne struggled to raise the sword in his hand, only to slash at Sir Wayne's chest, cutting through Sir Wayne's smock and leaving a mark on the chain mail, and the sharp broadsword cut off several rings on the chain mail.

"Surrender, Sir Wayne, you're no match." With a relaxed smile on his face, the fat steward took a few steps forward and shouted to Sir Wayne.

But persuasion had no effect, and after Sir Wayne took a step back, he once again stood firm, took a deep breath, and put the sword in his hand upright on his chest, the tip of which pointed to the sky.

"What is he doing?" Seeing Sir Wayne's actions, the fat manager blurted out in surprise, and even the countess frowned slightly.

"By the grace of God, with the glory of knights, forge the power of the eternal kingdom, please merge it into my body and mind, and give me infinite strength." Sir Wayne kissed the hilt of his sword sideways, and muttered a prayer.

"This can't be, he's a knight of divine grace? Why, the Knights of Divine Grace are here? The fat steward was taken aback, his body trembling, and the old legend echoed in the heart of every Randall.