Weelson sneered and gritted his teeth as he tried to slam Vladstin's arm down the barrel but.....
The nine-year-old prince's arm did not budge.
Weelson's lime green eyes widened and he kept on putting as much strength in his arm but Vladstin just smiled, staying perfectly still. The crowd gawked in amazement, wondering if the two were just joking on them or that Vladstin really had an arm of steel. Weelson shifted his weight to the side and growled fiercely, but it only made the arm tilt a bit before going back to the middle.
"Huff... huff.... What are you!?" Sweat dripped down the teenager's forehead.
"I'm just a kid." Vladstin smiled. "A really angry kid. It's very hard to make me truly angry, I didn't even get angry when somebody broke my favorite wooden horse. But you insulted my friend, and you look down on me, so of course I couldn't let that pass."
"That kid is scary, man. Maybe he really is the prince." One of the betters for Weelson elbowed his comrades.
"We're watching His Highness fight! Go, Your Highness!" The betters for Vladstin cheered.
"Cheer for me when I join the wrestling match three days from now! That's when I would really give you a show!" Vladstin shouted back at them while grinning ear to ear.
Many young girls felt like their hearts were just pierced by that dashing smile, and many mothers knew this kid has a bright future ahead of him. They're already teaching their girls how to grow up as proper ladies that would catch this handsome boy's eyes. Little did they know the little prince only have eyes for one person only, and he had been smitten really bad since their first few months together.
"Don't force yourself, Vladstin! I don't want you to get hurt!" Leron said worriedly to the side. He was worried that if Vladstin got injured, the King and Queen would be upset with him, and he doesn't want to fall out of their favor either.
"I'm not forcing myself, Leron. I barely feel anything, it's like I'm arm wrestling with an ant." Vladstin told him.
Weelson's temple nerves popped when he heard this and he made a loud roar. "Graaaahhhh!"
Vladstin's arm twisted to the side at an obtuse angle, midway to getting slammed! He winced, starting to feel difficulty to bring it back to the center.
"The Prince is losing!" The people who supported him panicked.
Weelson sneered. "Who's the ant now, little white-haired punk!? I don't care if your the prince or whatnot, I'm going to break your bones and make you swallow dirt as I take your money!"
Vladstin inhaled deeply, and exerted more force slowly but surely. "I.... never.... lose!"
SLAM!
On a surprising split second of almost getting his arm slammed by the red and blue-haired goliath, the young Vladstin turned the tables and managed to twist the opponent's arm back instead!
The crowd went wild and the people rooting for Team Vladstin rejoiced! The ones who betted a hefty sum for Weelson had their mouths wide open, still not believing what had just happened. The little prince is inhuman! How else could they possibly explain his impossible victory?
Weelson's small brain short-circuited, his arm still lying limp on the barrel. Geanne scoffed and just continued reading her book. The red wolf stuff toy that was on his other free hand was designed to be always smiling with sharp fangs no matter what, so it looked like it was also happy to move to a new owner.
"I'll be taking that," Vladstin grabbed the red wolf stuffie with a smug grin and Weelson remained dumbly staring on the ground. Vladstin turned to Leron and hugged him. "I won, Leron! Did you see that? I won!"
"I did! It was unbelievably amazing!" Leron hugged him back and patted his shoulders. "But are you sure it doesn't hurt? That was a really close one, I could almost hear your bones crack!"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Look, I got you this." Vladstin showed him the stuffie.
"You don't have to go into a fight just to give me a stuffed toy." Leron's face flushed pink. "I could have bought one from the gamemaster myself."
"That's not the only thing, I also wanted to teach this brute a lesson." Vladstin stomped one foot on the barrel and look down on the kneeling Weelson. "A deal's a deal. You have to grovel on Leron's feet and ask for forgiveness. Go now, I'll wait."
Weelson looked up, eyes still full of confusion. But though he was a brute, he still honors his promises after all. He prostrated in front of Leron and all the people who were watching. He said solemnly, "I'm sorry that I sabotaged your shooting earlier. I'm sorry I called you a rat. Please forgive me."
Leron did not expect Weelson to ask for forgiveness so quickly. His ego must have been crushed the moment he lost the arm-wrestling match. Or maybe Crescentians are naturally accepting to their losses and faithful to their promises. If it was the Ilvedians, a large brawl would start before either side surrenders and they will become heated enemies for life. Instead of physical fights, they would resolve it with mind games and sabotaging each other secretly. This just strengthens his resolve that Crescentians are more reasonable people than Ilvedians.
Leron nodded, and patted Weelson's shoulder. "That's enough now, please stand up. I don't want to humiliate anyone."
Weelson stood up and gave a small 'Thanks', before hurrying back to his group, sulking. The gamemaster had finished giving the due to the winning betters, and the crowd started to part, gossiping with each other about the event. Vladstin was really happy and had brought a small woven bag to place the red stuffie and all the other things that they would collect in the festival.
"I'm starving." Vladstin said. "We should try every single food stall that we see! Then we could bring some treats in this bag for the others when we rejoin them."
"As long as we don't get into that kind of excitement again, I'm willing to continue celebrating a peaceful Crimson Wolf Festival." Leron squeezed the plushies paws. "This wolf was based from the Tale of the Reborn Hero, right? The one who helped Rouge?"
"Yeah. You should name it so people would know it's yours." Vladstin squished the red wolf's head full of cotton.
"What should I name it? It's not like it's a pet." Leron said. "You're the one who got it for me, you should name it what you want."
"Then.... Can we name it Vlaron?" Vladstin looked down on the ground, his face red.
Leron tilted his head to the side. "What does that mean? Is that a Crescentian word?"
Of course, he knows what it means. He's just playing dumb to see how Vladstin would react.
"Y-Yeah... It means, uh.... good friend from one of our dialects."
"Right." Leron grinned knowingly and nodded. He then wrapped his arm around Vladstin's shoulder. "I'm hungry too. Let's take Vlaron, our 'good friend', to have our fill with festival foods."
Vladstin nodded sheepishly and they went to one of the small hole-in-the-wall restaurants on the streets. The fresh smell of pasta and all the exotic herbs and spices fill the air. Among the customers eating at the counter was....
"Look, it'd Yulio and Raishti!" Vladstin pointed. "Let's dunk their faces in their bowl—"
"Let's leave them be." Leron blocked his path using Vlaron. "They seem to be enjoying themselves and their meal alone. We should also pretend we didn't see them and enjoy the meal to ourselves."
"Oh, o-okay." Vladstin wanted to prank the two so they could join them. The tables here are all for fours so all four of them could eat all together, but it seems Leron doesn't like that. "Then you should wait for me at the table while I get us food. What would you like?"
"Whatever you'd like. I'm sure it will taste great, Crescentia has many good dishes that I wanted to try." Leron smiled and sat at the table with Vlaron the Stuffie on the empty chair at his side.
Vladstin went to the owner and ordered their cheese-filled pasta special, with tomato sauce and meatballs. They were stir-fried and served on sizzling plates, and there is an option to have them with spicy chili sauce as well. The Crescentians are known to have a strong palate and have strange pairings in their food, most particularly known for mixing cheese with spice.
He set out the two plates in front of Leron, and the foreign prince inhaled the aromas of the food deeply. "It smells so delicious! The pasta is really long and thick too. What is it called?"
"Rampiogli." Vladstin placed a fork on his friend's side. "It tastes really good but it could be too spicy for people trying it for the first time so I chose the least spicy option."
"That's very considerate of you, Your Highness. I'm not good with spice." Leron pierced one of the rounded, cheesy pasta and took a bite.
"Yeah, I noticed that's why I ordered it with fewer chilis. You never admitted it to mom even though your face is turning red as tomatoes, and you force yourself to keep eating. You should have just told her to lower down the spiciness, or maybe give you some milk or sweets."
Leron's fork stop midway. "You noticed all that? You're very observant."
Vladstin scratched his head and made a dry chuckle. He's not really observant, he just really love watching this little bunny eat.
"You did it on purpose, didn't you!?"
They heard a ruckus a few tables away, and it was Yulio with a pasta of rampiogli between his teeth who exclaimed. Raishti's blue-green hair was facing them so they can't see his face, but they can hear a mischievous delight in his voice.
Raishti leaned an elbow over his chair's backboard. "I don't know what you're talking about. We're sharing a rampiogli pasta, so we have to follow the tradition."
Yulio grumbled and went back to his chair, continuing to nibble hesitantly on the rampiogli. Instead of eating the pasta whole, his face went closer and closer towards Raishti's head. They look like....
"A-Are they.... Are they kissing!?" Leron stuttered from the sight.
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Ok, I'm getting desperate and pathetic so now I'm willing to accept bribes. I get jealous easily of other books that have a huge following and get sad everytime, thinking what's the point of writing if I feel like no one's reading/appreciate it.
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