𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 || Dreamnoblade || Discontinued (?)

Chapter 34

Third Person's POV:

The crowd's insistent chattering hummed, buzzed like dark cicadas in the luminescent nights. The party was at its peak— high-eve, primetime for socialization, brimming with gossip, dancing, and alcohol.

The lavish lifestyle of Craftian aristocrats was no joke. From the gold that embellished their hooped skirts, to the opulent jewels adorning their architecture. This was truly the brilliant show of wealth, as if to remind them of future prosperities in the era of a new king.

And thus, perhaps it was that got on Techno's nerves— the entitlement of those rich, uncaring bastards. They were growing more and more pushy by the second, intruding his private space, daring to lay their filthy hands on him.

"because of your affections to Dream, they think you've gone soft." Phil had reminded that earlier, after driving off one especially insistent Earl.

"They are acting like Dream is dead." He had added after, even giving a little wink.

"You gonna take that?" Were his parting words. Provocative. How unexpected of his normally benevolent father?

And the answer was fuck no. Perhaps Techno's image has been ruined! The idea of him, the once feared cold prince, being reduced to some lovesick puppy, entranced by some peasant who happened to have pretty eyes simply won't do!

"Butler..." Techno suddenly glowered, red eyes darkened with a haughty rage. "Are they still talkin' about me?"

The lanky butler, (named Ranboo he believes) nodded wordlessly. He had been eavesdropping on the conversations, per Techno's request.

"The audacity..." The prince gritted. He waved a hand, sending off his servant, "tell Phil I'm gonna make a scene."

As Ranboo scuttered off, feet carrying so fast, he might as well been teleporting, the prince lightly picked up a wine glass, swirling the burgundy liquid in a thoughtful manner. Upon hearing a distant voice, one that spoke of Dream like a "tempting harlot" he smiled.

It was not one of benevolence, but malice.

Soon after—

CRACK!

He dropped the wine glass, shattering the cup and splattering liquid across marble floors. Now eyes were on him. The ones that gossiped so confidently moments ago were now paled in shock, some even gasped. Wilbur smiled anticipatingly.

Clearing his throat, Techno feigned innocence, flashing a lethal grin, so sharp, it could draw fresh blood. He began tugging at his white gloves daintily.

"I couldn't help but notice," he spoke, stepping over spilled alcohol, "I seem to be the hot-topic tonight, yet no one has included me in the conversation," His smile fell, eyes darkened, "and more than me, the talk about my fiance?"

Deafening silence. Not one peep. The insistent chattering from early had died into nothing. What a bunch of rats.

Techno wasn't going to let them get away. Not when they dare attack his and Dream's honor.

Techno's glove was tossed aside, then his dark cloak, his veil, a now balled-up necklace, and eventually, even a plucked ruby ring. Ranboo quickly rushed over to gather them up.

"Since you're all so insistent on replacin' Dream, I'll indulge you,'' Techno sneered challengingly. "All of you who spoke against him, duel me, win and I'll marry you."

Utter silence. Eyes were widened at the announcement.

But what sounded like a benevolent offer, wasn't really so. No one could beat Technoblade. Especially not snooty nobles. This wasn't an offer, this was Techno blatantly declaring he was going to beat up people.