A Friend's Bracelet and Brewing Rivalry
Cron, who had stashed champagne bottles under the table beforehand, chugged them one after another. Gulp, gulp. Down the deeply sunken hollows under his eyes, across the angular jaw muscles scarred by knife wounds.
What the hell... is this feeling?!
His face was still etched with confusion. As the bewilderment lingered, Nadia posed her cautious question.
"By the way, my name's Nadia!"
"Ahem."
"A-are you okay?"
"......"
"Sir Cron... are you angry, by any chance?"
"Angry? About what?"
"Everyone's been dodging my attempts to talk..."
"What kind of—"
Ah—!
Cron started to reply but suddenly remembered something. His bull-like eyes rolled toward Nadia.
Come to think of it...
He remembered. Just moments ago, Nadia had been clumsily approaching people here and there, trying to make new friends. And how every single one of those high-society folks had silently rejected her, leaving her dejected.
Normally, after that many rejections, most people—regardless of gender—would shrink back. Some distance themselves from others to avoid more hurt, while others lash out with gossip and rumors to salvage their bruised egos.
But the girl standing before Cron now showed the complete opposite.
Her eyes are still a bit red...
She'd wiped away her tears in one swipe and boldly proposed friendship to him—the leader of the Black Horse Knights, no less! Treating yesterday's meat bun contest like some neighborhood kids' game. And that after losing! She wasn't even a child! At the royal palace ball, no less? Wearing such a rustic outfit!
Pfft.
A laugh burst from Cron's previously downturned mouth. He finally understood why the high-society types over there hadn't entertained her.
She'd marched right up and said what? Yesterday was fun, so let's be friends?
Damn. These days, even kids over twelve in the capital call that corny.
Friendship that tosses aside status, background, position, class, power? Is her head a flower garden? Does she really think that shit still exists in this harsh world?
This fool's pure innocence struck Cron as ridiculously funny all of a sudden. Truly, hilarious.
"Kh-huh."
"Wh-what's wrong?"
His massive shoulders shook up and down as he barely suppressed the laughter by bowing his head. If he opened his mouth, the guffaws would explode.
The dull-witted Cron buried his face in his thick forearms, grinning ear to ear.
Huh?
But then he noticed the small teardrop pooling at the corner of his eye. That's when he finally realized it.
The true nature of this emotion wasn't amusement—it was pity.
!
Yes. Pity. For himself, who'd been cowering since dawn yesterday.
For himself, who'd felt defeat just from meeting someone with greater strength.
Why this pity?
"Sir Cron, are you alright?"
"I'm... fine!"
It was thanks to the attitude of this country bumpkin girl, who was timidly yet steadfastly standing by his side.
Courage.
Courage that didn't bend despite repeated rejections!
Courage that ignored the amused stares from others!
And... courage that ultimately allowed her to approach like this!
Lost this time? Win next time.
Strength lacking? Train harder.
Gap too wide? Challenge relentlessly until death.
That was how Cron had lived his life.
But—
Yeah... weight wasn't the issue. I was scared.
Reflecting on his pathetic behavior, the answer came.
He'd lacked courage. The courage to ignore others' gazes and walk his own path—a courage he'd held for so long.
"The Continent's Strongest Raw Power"—the title that had defined him for who knows how long.
He'd been anxious about losing it to that guy Hansu. Even though that brief lesson from him had actually let Cron lift far more weight now!
Since when did this monster Cron start fearing others' opinions?
Lightning flashed in his mind.
From when he rode in expensive carriages? From when he guzzled booze worth a commoner's yearly salary without a care?
How ridiculous! He used to laugh boisterously even when called a moron with a low-class, mannerless, retard brain!
"Puhaha! Hahaha!"
Suddenly throwing his head back in laughter. A beat later, gratitude welled up.
Gratitude for this courageous girl who'd approached without prejudice, just on a single greeting.
True thanks for expressing it sincerely, for affirming him just by spending time together.
His throat tightened.
Suppressing the surging emotion, Cron nodded and muttered to Nadia.
"...Truly, thank you."
"Pardon?"
"For saying what I couldn't. Nadia, will you be my friend?"
"R-really?"
"Of course!"
"Waaah—!"
Nadia's eyes sparkled. She'd proposed first, yet she was thrilled like this! Cron made a bemused face, but his lips curved up wide.
"Great, Sir Cron!"
"Haha. No 'sir'—just call me by name! We're friends now; no need for formalities!"
"O-okay, Cron!"
"Ha-ha! Sounds mighty fine!"
"Here."
Nadia hurriedly pulled something from her pocket and offered it carefully to Cron. A small bracelet.
"This is...?"
"I prepared a gift for the friend I'd make at the ball!"
"A g-gift!!!"
"Hehehe."
"This... is seriously touching!!!"
Dull-witted as he was, Cron easily read Nadia's expectant face for his reaction. Her honest expression gave it all away.
Keh-keh—!
Cron burst into hearty laughter, showing off Nadia's gift as if on purpose. And Nadia beamed proudly beside him.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Hehehehehe!"
So elated, she locked eyes with him, hands on hips, laughter flowing— that's when it happened.
"Ah. My friend, Lady Nadia."
"Yes! My friend, Cron!"
"As thanks for the gift, how about dancing with me later at the ball?"
"Uh—"
"I'll teach you a killer dance. It'll serve you well with others too."
"Ooh... sure!"
In balls where partners switched constantly as custom, he figured teaching her a rustic dance would suit her. That's what he thought.
"Dancing with Cron sounds fun!"
"Good, then later—"
"Nadia."
"Hans!"
Hansu had appeared before he knew it.
"What are you doing here—"
"Looking for your lady?"
"Cron."
"Hahaha! I've learned from the big one."
Cron grinned at him. His heart was complicated, but not as much as before. Healed by his new friend Nadia, he was ready to greet Hansu positively, reframing yesterday's experience.
"Anyway, next time when you have—"
As Cron spoke, he sensed it. Hansu's gaze was fixed beyond his shoulder.
What's he looking at?
Following Hansu's suddenly silent stare, Cron glanced back.
"......!"
From behind.
"Hey."
His longtime nemesis, Knight Captain Fabian, was approaching with a piercing glare.
"What... the hell are you doing right now?"
The opening dance had just ended. Intermission. A time for light chatter, partner selection, and the orchestra's final checks before the next full piece.
At the edges of the vast floor, people busily adjusted their tailcoats and gowns. In one spot, a minor commotion was brewing.
"Eek! It's Fabian—!"
"Waaah—!"
"Hold on."
"Look, over there. Isn't that Cron?"
"What's with those two?"
"Not just two? What's going on over there?"
"Huh?"
"The vibe's kinda weird?"
As time passed, more eyes turned this way bit by bit. And I was right there.
This is fucking insane.
The moron duo was complete. Golden Knights Captain Fabian and Black Horse Knights Leader Cron.
And between them? Nadia.
"This lady promised to dance with me."
"Ha! Same here!"
"I made the promise first."
"Heard it wasn't for the first dance."
Fabian and Cron faced off tensely. Soon, vice captains from their respective mercenary and knight orders joined, glaring daggers.
Fuck.
Once it got this far, no escaping the entanglement, huh?
As I scowled,
"The Black Horse Knights are always like this. Like last time, barging into a cleared dungeon to snatch the credit."
"As if the Golden Knights blocking the labyrinth subjugation."
"Still on that? It wasn't interference—we were trying to help. Blame the skill gap if you can't eat what's spoon-fed."
"That attack even the labyrinth monsters laughed at?"
"I get it. Mercenaries wouldn't know a knight order's precision after proper training."
"That's why pampered knights are so naive. Think 'template' attacks work on wild beasts? Makes sense, coming from sheltered types with no life-or-death wilderness experience."
"Not 'template'—'textbook.' And 'sheltered' means 'careless,' right?"
Fabian caught Cron's pretentious slip, and the mercenary vice captain clenched his fist in outrage.
"Hah, enough. The skill gap's too wide for talk."
"Harsh words. At least our captain never abandoned comrades in a pinch and fled!"
"Hey!"
Now the vice captains were bickering.
"Acting like the Golden Knights abandon allies?"
"Didn't you? Last swamp fortress battle."
"Idiots buying those outcasts' rumors. Gamblers, of all people."
"Tsk tsk. Sheltered, so clueless. Infiltration ops require gambling, obviously—"
"Enough."
As more onlookers gathered and whispers started, Fabian sighed and cut in. The argument had heated up enough for nearby folks to murmur.
It was deep-rooted bad blood. Not just between Fabian and Cron, but between the Golden Knights and Black Horse Knights as wholes. Their history was too vast for this page.
They'd directly harmed each other, so it wasn't incomprehensible...
...Fuck.
...But I was more worried about what came next.
They're clashing way earlier than in the original.
Cron was one of the few who could rile up protocol-obsessed Fabian. And here they were, competing over first dance priority with Nadia.
If this escalated, the rats hiding in the palace might exploit the chaos for mayhem, leading to bigger uproar... and Drakan emerging to protect Nadia.
Then the princess hides.
Ascension info gone.
Squeeze.
To stop that, as I tapped Nadia's shoulder to signal her,
But when did she promise a dance with Cron too—
Fabian, competing with Cron over first dance with Nadia, sighed and turned to her.
"Sorry for the embarrassing display, Lady."
"Fabian! Know what this is?!"
"What—"
"The bracelet this lady personally gifted to the guy you called too low-skill for talk!"
"......!!!"
Cron smugly thrust his arm like wielding a treasured heirloom. Fabian's eyes flicked between the bracelet on Cron's wrist and flustered Nadia.
Uh? That thing?!
For a split second, I saw it. Fabian's golden pupils flashed.
Fabian, who hated losing to Cron at anything, had his dance partner priority snatched at the ball? Serious shit. His face flashed with damage to the Golden Knights' pride too.
Hah, fuck...
I sighed deeply and shook my head.
Fine. No helping it.
"Hahaha! Seems your skill's all talk."
"You, right in front of—"
In the heating atmosphere, I spoke up.
"Everyone, stop."
Whoosh.
Cron and Fabian's blazing glares turned to me. Their vice captains eyed me like bugs.
Not just them. VIPs pretending not to watch from nearby tables started murmuring, faces saying Who's this punk?
Their mouths, staring at me, gaped at my next words.
"Both of you, stand behind me."
"???"
"???"
"This one's dancing with me first tonight."
"!!!"
"!!!"
Nadia's mouth gaped widest.
"???"
...Well, whatever, kid.