NTR: Stealing Nobles and Wives in another world-Chapter 10: Spring Tournament

My head is still spinning with the revelations from the library as I make my way back to my quarters.

The Spring Tournament. Champions. Other transmigrants. It's a lot to process, but my cock has its own priorities—namely, Elara's midnight promise and whatever she has planned with Rosalind.

I push open the door to my room, already fantasizing about what might happen tonight. Maybe I'll have Rosalind on her knees, those massive tits bound tight with rope while Elara watches through—

"Finding the library educational, are we?"

I freeze. Lord Derek sits in the room's only chair, his long legs crossed casually as if he's been waiting a while. The flickering oil lamp casts shadows across his face, making those gray eyes—so like his daughter's—seem to glow with internal light.

But it's what he's holding that makes my blood run cold: the gray-hide book about transmigrants that Master Harlowe had confiscated.

"My lord," I say, bowing slightly. "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Clearly." His voice is dry as dust. "Close the door, Daren. We have matters to discuss."

I obey, feeling the click of the latch like a physical weight. When I turn back, Derek is leafing through the book with familiar ease.

"Fascinating reading, isn't it? 'Champions from beyond the veil.' Such poetic language for a rather clinical phenomenon." He closes the book with a snap.

"Tell me, did you find the Chapter about the physiological changes? The part where it describes how transmigrants' bodies adapt to channel powers from their original worlds?"

My mouth goes dry. "I only had a chance to read a few pages before Master Harlowe took it."

"Ah, yes. Harlowe. Loyal to a fault, though his eyesight isn't what it once was." Derek sets the book aside and leans forward. "He didn't see you copying notes on that scrap of parchment you've tucked into your waistband."

Fuck. I'd forgotten about that.

Derek extends his hand. "May I?"

It's not a request. I retrieve the folded parchment and hand it over, watching as he scans my hastily scribbled notes.

"'Spring Tournament'... 'combat trials'... 'blue light during exertion'..." He looks up at me, one silver eyebrow raised. "You're quite thorough for someone who 'only read a few pages.'"

"I'm a fast reader."

"Indeed." He refolds the parchment and tucks it into his pocket. "Let's not waste time with pretense, Daren. I know what you are. I know about the strange text you see. I know about Enhanced Physique and the other abilities that will unlock as you progress."

My heart hammers in my chest. "How?"

"Because you're not the first. Not even the fifth, if we're being precise." Derek stands, moving to the window where moonlight streams in.

"I've been collecting transmigrants for almost twenty years. Some arrive with martial abilities. Others with magical talents. A few with intellectual gifts." He turns, his eyes raking over me. "Unlike you, with sexual specialties."

His directness catches me off guard. "You've been watching me."

"Of course I have. This house has eyes everywhere. I see everything that happens under my roof."

His gaze is pointed enough that I wonder if he knows about Elara's proposition. "Including your activities with Madame Rosalind. Most impressive."

I feel heat rise to my face, but Derek waves dismissively.

"Don't be embarrassed. Your abilities are valuable. Why do you think I claimed you from Duke Harrington's custody?

I recognized what you were the moment I heard about the 'naked foreigner' who appeared in Lady Vivienne's chambers."

"So what happens now?" I ask. "Why are you telling me this?"

Derek crosses to a small cabinet beside the bed, removing a crystal decanter and two glasses. He pours a measure of amber liquid into each, offering one to me.

"Because I need you to understand the full scope of your situation," he says as I take the glass. The liquor burns going down, stronger than any whiskey I've tasted. "Gareth's skills are becoming... inadequate."

"Gareth is a transmigrant?" The pieces click into place—his resentment, his warnings.

"Was. The abilities fade if not properly nurtured. His have diminished significantly since last year's tournament." Derek sips his drink. "The Spring Tournament approaches. In a fortnight, nobles from across the kingdom will gather to present their champions in various competitions."

"And you want me to compete."

"I need you to succeed." Derek's tone hardens. "House Silverwood has dominated the tournament for three consecutive years.

Their champion—a transmigrant like yourself, though with different specialties—has left a trail of defeated opponents and established their house's dominance."

I take another sip of the burning liquid. "So what kind of competition is this? What would I be doing?"

Derek's expression grows more serious. "The Spring Tournament is primarily a series of combat trials.

Champions fight in various formats to demonstrate their martial prowess and bring honor to their houses."

My excitement deflates instantly. "Combat? As in fighting?"

"Indeed. And there lies our dilemma." Derek studies my reaction closely. "I suspect from your expression that combat isn't among your natural abilities."

"I've never fought anyone in my life," I admit, a cold weight settling in my stomach.

"I thought as much." Derek nods as if confirming a theory.

"Each transmigrant manifests abilities aligned with their natural inclinations from their original world. Yours are clearly... carnal in nature."

"So I'm useless to you," I say flatly.

"I didn't say that." Derek finishes his drink. "What you lack in combat experience, you can learn through training. Your Enhanced Physique provides a foundation we can build upon."

"But I don't have any fighting skills at all," I protest.

"Which is why I've already arranged for a trainer to begin working with you tomorrow.

Lady Keira Ironheart—one of the few female transmigrants I know of. Her combat abilities are... remarkable. She'll prepare you for the tournament."

I try to imagine myself fighting in some medieval arena and come up completely blank. "How long do I have to learn?"

"Two weeks until preliminary qualifications." Derek's tone suggests this is perfectly reasonable.

"Two weeks to learn how to fight? That's impossible!"

"For an ordinary man, perhaps. But you're not ordinary, are you?" Derek sets his empty glass down.

"Your Enhanced Physique ability doesn't just benefit you sexually. It improves your overall physical capabilities. With the right training, you could become... adequate."

"Adequate isn't winning," I point out.

"No, but the tournament has multiple events. Some require pure combat skill, but others test endurance, agility, or mental discipline—areas where your unique abilities might give you an advantage."

"And if I refuse?"

"You won't." Derek's voice turns icy. "The tournament isn't optional for those of your... classification.

Refuse, and you'll be sold to House Silverwood as a practice dummy for their champion. I assure you, that's a fate you'd not survive."

The threat hangs in the air between us.

"What exactly would I need to do?" I ask, resignation creeping into my voice.

"Tomorrow morning, you'll meet Lady Keira for your first combat assessment. I've arranged special quarters for you in the east wing, away from prying eyes.

You'll have everything needed for your training." Derek moves toward the door. "Your sexual abilities, while impressive, are secondary to our immediate needs. The tournament does not include carnal trials."

I feel a strange mix of relief and disappointment at that. On one hand, I'm spared the public spectacle of sexual performance. On the other, it means my only real talent is useless in this competition.

As Derek reaches for the door handle, he pauses. "Oh, and regarding your interest in my daughter..."

My blood freezes. Here it comes—the threat, the warning, maybe even immediate punishment.

His gray eyes flash dangerously. "Remember that I see everything in this house. Everything."

He lets that sink in for a moment, then adds something unexpected: "Elara has always been fascinated by transmigrants.

She's observed several of my champions over the years, studying their techniques. Her curiosity is natural, but dangerous."

Is he... giving me permission? Warning me? It's impossible to tell.

"She may prove useful in your training," Derek continues. "She's worked with Lady Keira before and understands the... unique challenges transmigrants face when learning combat."

"I understand," I say carefully.

"I don't think you do, but you will." Derek opens the door. "Rest tonight. Tomorrow's combat assessment will test your limits, and Lady Keira is not known for her gentleness with novices."

As the door closes behind him, my status window appears:

[STATUS UPDATE]

Level: 1

Experience: 130/200

New Quests:

- Prove your worth as a champion (Reward: 100 XP)

- Survive first combat training (Reward: 30 XP)

Warning: Failure may result in termination

I collapse onto my bed, my mind reeling with everything I've learned. A combat tournament. Me, fighting against actual warriors. Derek's knowledge of my abilities. The implied threat about Elara, coupled with that strange hint about her future role in my training.

And now this mysterious Lady Keira who's supposed to transform me into a fighter in two weeks.

How the hell am I supposed to learn combat that quickly? My only real physical activity on Earth was the occasional pickup basketball game and... well, sex.

But underneath the anxiety, I feel the throbbing anticipation of tonight—Elara's midnight visit, the planned domination of Rosalind, the forbidden thrill of it happening under Derek's nose despite his claim to see everything.

As I'm processing all this, I hear a faint sound from the wall beside my bed. The subtle slide of a panel moving, then silence.

Someone was watching. But who? Elara checking if the coast is clear for tonight? Rosalind spying for Derek? Or perhaps this Lady Keira, assessing her new student?

I stare at the wall, my cock hardening at the thought of being observed. If it's this combat trainer, I wonder what she looks like. Derek called her one of the few female transmigrants—is she from modern Earth like me? Does she also see status windows and blue energy?

Whoever is watching, they're about to get quite a show. Tonight's domination of Rosalind takes on new significance now—it's not just about pleasure, but preparation.

If I'm going to survive combat training with Lady Keira, I need the confidence that comes from complete control in my natural domain.

I check the status window again, focusing on the experience needed to reach Level 2. Only 70 XP more until Natural Charm unlocks. Between the Rosalind domination quest (50 XP) and tomorrow's combat assessment (30 XP), I'm getting closer to leveling up.

As I begin preparing for Elara's midnight visit, laying out items I might need for Rosalind's submission, I can't help but wonder: could my sexual abilities somehow translate to combat?

Derek mentioned that Enhanced Physique improves my overall physical capabilities. Maybe dominating Rosalind tonight will give me the mental edge I need for tomorrow's training.

Whatever happens, I know one thing for certain—I've never backed down from a challenge, and I'm not about to start now.

If I can make Rosalind submit completely to my will, maybe I can face Lady Keira with the same confidence.

Let the training begin.