“It’s packed to the rafters here,” Lord Franz muttered to himself.
“It truly is,” I instinctively replied.
By the time we’d arrived at the venue, the competition had already begun, and there was a massive wall of people. The crowd was crackling with excitement—their cheering and jeering drowned out any conversation.
I peered through a gap in the throng of bodies and saw two men standing on either side of a table. They seemed engaged in a glaring war. Their elbows were placed on the table, and their hands were clasped together tightly. At the judge’s signal, their muscles flexed.
I called it a contest of strength, but it’s actually just an arm-wrestling contest. I considered having contestants lift bags of rice like agricultural high school students do for field day, but our country doesn’t cultivate rice, so I gave up on that idea. Bags of flour also look heavy, but it feels different somehow... I was anxious that arm wrestling wouldn’t be enough to liven things up, but it seems my worries were unfounded. I’m almost appalled by how worked up everyone is.
“So far, it’s proceeding without any issues,” Klaus said. He stood next to me and surveyed the area.
“Yes, but stay alert just in case,” I replied.
“Understood.” He nodded and called over the knight in charge of the security for the contest of strength.
“Lord Franz, it may be difficult because there are so many people, but—”
“Yes, I’ll search for them,” he replied before I could finish my request. He was already scanning the vicinity for Duke Schletter’s retainer. He swept the crowd with a sharp gaze that was out of place in the merry mood of a festival. Following his lead, I also kept an eye out for any suspicious individuals.
Suddenly, our surroundings stirred into a commotion. The atmosphere was still boisterous, but it was clearly of a different quality than the earlier tumult. The jovial clamor had vanished, replaced by rapidly spreading consternation. I tried to investigate what was happening, but I couldn’t see past the wall of people. My knights protected me and led me to a position from which I could finally see the match.
My eyes widened in shock.
A match was about to start, but the two men sandwiching the table, along with the judge, were all staring at another man. This new fellow seemed to be a last-minute entrant. That was fine according to the rules. The villagers had suggested we allow participation without advance registration since it would be more exciting that way. However, this individual was interrupting an ongoing match.
The man was easily over two meters tall and had a colossal frame to match his immense stature. He was covered in hulking muscles, and his tan skin was covered in scars of all sizes. His sharp eyes glinted while one side of his thick lips was contorted up into a sneer.
He’s clearly not an ordinary person. Perhaps a mercenary or a soldier... No, he’s too ill-mannered. He’s grinning just like mountain bandits do in video games. I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. There are quite a lot of people who have scary faces but are actually very kind, but this guy’s obviously different. His dark, murky eyes and vile smile are blatantly broadcasting the evil intention of “I’m here to destroy.” I wouldn’t be surprised if he broke his opponent’s arm.
“I knew it! They’re causing a disturbance!” Lord Franz exclaimed in a low, hoarse voice, followed by the sound of gnashing teeth. “I’ll get rid of him.” He was about to push his way forward through the crowd, but I grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
“Wait,” I said.
“Huh?”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Um... What?” His confused gaze flickered between me and my grip on his wrist.
“Sorry, that was untoward of me,” I apologized and released him.
“Not at all,” he replied in a small voice. He looked down and rubbed the spot where I’d held him as though he were checking that it was okay.
“Oh dear, did I hurt you?” I asked.
“N-No. Not at all... M-More importantly, why did you say it’ll be fine?” He raised his head. He was red around his eyes and at the tip of his well-sculpted nose.
Does he dislike women? I’m really sorry about that... I mentally apologized again. “Because he’s probably here.”
“He?” Lord Franz said dubiously.
“You accept challengers, right? Then take me on for size!” the last-minute participant roared over Lord Franz’s voice. The large man shoved one of the current participants out of the way and slammed his elbow down on the table with a loud thud. He curled his finger as if to say, Bring it.
The young man he’d chosen as his opponent blanched and took a step back. The judge tensed up, peering around the area for help. At this point, the venue had fallen completely silent, and the mood was as icy as it could possibly get. A child sitting in the front row began to sob.
Right as the situation took a turn for the worse, a gallant voice cut through the gloomy atmosphere. “Then let me be your opponent.”
Everyone’s gaze was drawn to the speaker. Glossy black hair, swept back; almond-shaped eyes of the same color. Manly good looks that became more attractive with every year instead of withering away—he possessed a deep allure and a fragrant beauty, like vintage wine, that a young adult could never emulate.
The man shed his elegant, dark-gray frock coat and handed it to another man standing next to him. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled up the sleeves. His brawny wrists were incredibly sexy. With a light roll of his shoulders, he met the gaze of the dumbfounded giant.
He grinned and rested his elbow on the table. “Sorry for the wait. Let’s do this.”
In response to the new participant’s placidity, the large man lost his temper. “A skinny man like you?! Don’t go cryin’ to your mama if you get hurt!” he yelled, a vein popping on his forehead.
I thought this big guy had unusual features for a Nevelian, but as I thought, he was born elsewhere. How could he not recognize the face of our nation’s strongest soldier—our brave general whose name is well-known in neighboring countries—our famed Black Lion?