Rebellion Rising from the Depths: Mocked by the Hero Who Impregnated My Childhood Friend Before My Very Eyes. - Chapter 1: The Keepsake Ring.

The Keepsake Ring.

The bells of triumph rang out, their peals vibrating through the very air of the royal capital.

Ever since morning, the continuous tolling had been layered with the roars of the crowd. Flags flooded the streets, children swung wooden swords wildly, and stall owners strained their voices, shouting, “Long live the Hero!” The scent of roasted meat, the aroma of sweet fruit wine, and the laughter of young girls scattering flower petals filled the air. The war was over, and everyone was swept up in the euphoria.

In the dead center of that clamor, Noah walked with his head bowed.

His left shoulder was burning hot, as if a shard of seared iron had been embedded within it. His right flank throbbed with a dull ache every time he took a shallow breath. These were wounds he had sustained three days ago while slaying a demonic beast in the northern canyons. No, to be precise, it wasn’t that Noah himself had been cut. As was always the case, he had simply taken on the pain that was meant for his comrade.

Still, to an outsider, there was no difference.

Nobody would notice anyway, and even if they did, they’d think nothing more than, “Ah, that incompetent fool is collapsing on his own again.”

Despite being a member of the subjugation party led by the Hero Leon, few people bothered to remember Noah’s name. He wasn’t a swordsman, a mage, or a priest. He possessed no flashy powers. At most, he was a man who could handle luggage and chores, occasionally tending to his comrades’ well-being—a man whose presence or absence changed nothing.

That was how everyone perceived him.

In reality, the words spoken aloud were far more blunt.

—Incompetent.

—Good-for-nothing.

—A luggage carrier just leeching off the Hero’s fame.

He had heard it countless times. He had been mocked countless times. By Leon himself, by the members of the party, by drunks in the tavern, and by the city folk who knew nothing of the battlefield.

Yet, for today alone, his heart felt strangely light.

The pain hadn’t vanished. If anything, fatigue was settling in the depths of his body like stagnant mud. But the reason his pace was a little faster was that he didn’t know how long he had waited for this very day.

The war was over.

Leon would make a triumphal entry into the capital as the hero who saved the kingdom, and a grand banquet would be held in the evening.

And for Noah, things had finally reached a turning point.

That was why he intended to say it today.

The feelings he had suppressed deep within his chest for years—the words he couldn’t say because he was afraid of being laughed at, afraid of losing what he had.

To his childhood friend, Lydie.

***

Noah slipped through the throngs of people and headed toward the old residential district at the southern edge of the castle town. The cobblestones were chipped in places, and unlike the glamorous central thoroughfare, not a single flower petal lay on the ground. To Noah, however, this path was more comforting than anywhere else in the capital. The soot-stained brick walls he’d been familiar with since childhood. The laundry hung out to dry. The potted plants on the windowsills. It was an area that was poor, cramped, and unbearably cold in the winter, but it held the memory of his mother, his father was here, and he shared memories of Lydie here as well.

Opening the creaking front door, the scent of decocted herbs hit his nose.

“I’m home.”

A weak cough drifted back from the inner room.

“Oh, Noah? You’re early.”

His father was sitting up in bed. His cheeks were hollow, and his complexion was poor. Still, he always smiled when he saw Noah’s face. They weren’t related by blood. However, after his mother died, this was the man who had taken him in and raised him.

“Is it okay for you to be up? Did you take your medicine?”

“I took it, I took it. More importantly, look at your own face. What’s with that look? You look like a ghost on a day of celebration.”

Noah gave a wry smile and reached for the water pitcher on the sink. His shoulder groaned, and he couldn’t help but grimace. His father didn’t miss it, but he said nothing. He knew that even if he did, Noah would just brush it off.

“Hey, Dad.”

Pouring the water, Noah spoke while trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Mother’s ring… we still have it, right? The one in the wooden box.”

“Hmm?”

His father tilted his head slightly, then narrowed his eyes as if remembering something.

“Lydie-chan was here around noon.”

His heart gave a heavy thud.

“Lydie was?”

“Yeah. Said she had business with you. She borrowed the key and went into your room, too. Looked like she was searching for something.”

Noah bolted toward his room. In the corner of the small space, deep inside the drawer of an old desk—it was a spot where he had removed the bottom panel. He had hidden the ring there, the one his mother had entrusted to him before she died, because he didn’t want anyone to touch it.

The box was there. But the moment he opened the lid, the warmth vanished from his chest.

It was empty.

Only the cloth he had carefully laid out remained.

It was gone. Only the ring.

His breath felt like it was catching in his throat, and Noah stood motionless for a while, clutching the box. In terms of gold, that ring wasn’t worth much. It was an old piece, nothing more than a thin silver band set with a single small blue stone. But to Noah, it was his mother herself. The one and only keepsake she had entrusted to him with a smile, telling him to “give it to someone precious someday.”

Noah had intended to give it to Lydie today.

On the way home from playing in the mud by the river when they were young, she—a crybaby back then—had once asked, “Will you protect me when we grow up?” Noah, still a child, had nodded seriously and replied, “Then, if Lydie will be my bride.” She had laughed and hooked her pinky with his.

It was a childhood promise.

Perhaps he was pathetic for continuing to polish such a thing in his heart even now.

Nevertheless, for Noah, it was everything.

Even when pushed into the hero’s shadow, even when vomiting blood on the battlefield, even when treated as a nameless chore-runner—he could endure it because he believed there was a place to return to, and that Lydie was there.

“Noah.”

His father called out from the bed.

When he returned, his father picked up a small scrap of paper from beside his pillow.

“The girl left this.”

Noah took it with trembling fingers. It was written in the familiar, rounded handwriting.

‘Come to the third floor of the west tower of Leon-sama’s estate when the evening bell rings three times. I have something important to tell you. I’ll be waiting, Noah.’

Sweat began to seep into his hand holding the paper.

Leon’s estate. The third floor of the west tower. Something important.

The missing ring.

Inside his chest, one convenient, non-existent meaning after another surfaced. Lydie found the ring. She realized Noah’s feelings. And she chose a place tonight where no one would overhear. He couldn’t help but think that way. And the moment he did, he realized just how foolish he was and how much he was hoping.

His father gave a sly grin.

“Well now. Is it finally happening?”

“N-no, it’s not like that yet.”

“Don’t say that with a face like that. Go look in a mirror.”

Told this, Noah hurriedly looked away. He thought he might have been smiling. For the first time in so long that he hadn’t even noticed.

His father’s cough echoed softly again.

“Go on.”

“But, Dad…”

“I’m not so mean that I’d tie my son to the house on a day of celebration. I’ve got my medicine, and the old lady next door will check in on me. Besides, Lydie-chan probably intends to have a serious talk.”

A serious talk.

At those words, his heart pounded so hard it hurt.

Noah nodded and washed his face in a basin. He scooped water over and over, washing away the encrusted blood and dust. The scars wouldn’t disappear, but he wanted to meet her with a face that was at least somewhat presentable. He mended the frayed threads of his jacket, straightened his collar, and wiped his shoes. It was the most decent outfit he owned, poor as it was. His mother’s ring was gone. But if she was the one who had it—just imagining that made it hard to breathe.

***

As the dusk stained the capital in shades of vermilion, Noah left the house.

The closer he got to the central thoroughfare, the denser the heat of the crowd became. A giant banner depicted a portrait of Leon, exaggerated to a dazzling degree. Silver armor. A holy sword drawn. The figure of a hero standing higher than anyone else. At his feet, the shadows of nameless soldiers and adventurers were not depicted.

“If it weren’t for Leon-sama, the kingdom would have been destroyed.” “I heard he cut down the Holy Dragon, unbothered by its curse!” “The Hero really is in a league of his own.”

Listening to the voices of the people passing by, Noah unconsciously placed a hand on his left shoulder.

The Holy Dragon’s curse.

The one who took that blow wasn’t Leon. It was Noah. Or rather, to be precise, Noah had taken on the curse that was supposed to befall Leon. The moment it activated, a searing pain had raced from his left arm to his chest, and for three days and nights, he was plagued by high fever and nausea. Yet, in the end, it was Leon who received the cheers while hoisting the holy sword, while Noah knelt behind him, vomiting blood where no one could see.

He thought that was fine.

Leon stands in the front, and Noah supports from behind. He had told himself countless times that was his role. If he could buy medicine for his father with the money he earned that way, and occasionally buy some nice fabric for Lydie, that was enough.

—Until tonight.

The scenery changed as he entered the estate district. Orderly rows of roadside trees. White walls illuminated by magical lamps. Speared guards stood at every gate, and carriages passed by without interruption. Leon’s estate was particularly large among them. The Hero’s family crest hung on the gate, and a red carpet was laid at the entrance.

Noah took a deep breath and showed the scrap of paper to a guard.

“I was called by Lydie…”

The guard glanced at the note, then compared Noah’s clothes to his face. Then, he let out a snort of derision.

“Third floor, West Tower. Get going. Don’t get the guest corridors dirty.”

His tone was thorny, but he let him through. The moment he crossed the threshold, it smelled like a different world. Polished floors, lilies, incense smoke, high-quality liquor. Servants moved quietly to and fro, and every single one of them was well-groomed. Noah felt as if the soles of his shoes were making an out-of-place noise.

With every step up the stairs, his heartbeat quickened.

The third floor of the West Tower was a quiet corner, slightly removed from the banquet. The sound of the orchestra could only be heard faintly from far below, and there was almost no sign of other people.

At the end of the hallway. Before the thick door, Noah stopped.

From inside the room, there was a faint sound of laughter.

A woman’s voice, one he knew very well.

Lydie.

Just hearing that voice made his heart full. The voice that had clung to Noah’s back while crying when they were children. The voice that had laughed more brightly than anyone else by the well in the slums. The slightly proud voice she’d had when she picked herbs for his father when he was bedridden with a cold.

But now, the laughter heard through the door was mixed with a certain sensuality that Noah didn’t recognize.

The moment he realized that, his fingertips went cold.

As if scolding himself, Noah softly knocked on the door.

“…Lydie. I’m here.”

There was a short silence.

On the other side of the door, there was the sound of fabric rustling. The slight clinking of glasses. Once again, someone’s low laughter. He thought it sounded like a man’s voice, but Noah forced the unwelcome thought away.

Eventually, the sound of the lock turning.

The door opened a crack.

“Come in.”

Lydie was smiling thinly.

The moment he saw her, Noah was lost for words.

She was beautiful beyond recognition. Her pale grape-colored dress was made of fine fabric, and small pearls swayed from her ears. Her chestnut hair was carefully tied up, and the scent of an unfamiliar perfumed oil clung to her neck. It was an outfit that a girl from the slums could never, ever reach.

However, what caught Noah’s eye more than anything was her left hand.

On her ring finger, a thin silver ring was shining.

A small blue stone.

The keepsake of his mother, which he had polished with a cloth so many times.

“…Why?”

His throat was terribly dry, and his voice came out raspy.

Lydie followed Noah’s gaze, then pointedly raised her hand to show it off.

“Oh, this?”

Catching the light of the candelabra, the blue stone glittered.

“I figured you’d notice.”

Noah took a step into the room. The door closed behind him. Inside the room, the scent of sweet wine and flowers drifted, along with a feverish smell faintly mixed with sweat. On the round table were two half-finished glasses. A man’s jacket was tossed haphazardly onto the couch in the back.

A sharp hitch sounded in the back of his throat.

“That… it’s my mother’s… It should have been at my house.”

“Yes. I borrowed it at noon.”

“Borrowed it…?”

“You were going to give it to me anyway, weren’t you?”

At those words, Noah stopped breathing.

Lydie was smiling. But it wasn’t the soft smile Noah knew. It was a smile that seemed to enjoy itself, to test him—like tracing a fingertip over someone else’s wound.

“You’ve always been easy to read, Noah. Even though you went through the trouble of hiding that box, you were weirdly protective of that one spot when I was cleaning.”

“Cleaning… you knew?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Lydie shrugged.

“I’ve known how you’ve looked at me for a long time.”

It felt as if all sound was fading from the world.

She knew.

Noah’s feelings.

The things he had nurtured over a long time in the depths of his heart, showing no one, hiding them away with care—she had known from the very beginning.

“If that’s the case…”

Noah unconsciously took a step closer.

“If that’s the case, then why didn’t you—until now—”

“Tell you?”

Lydie laughed lightly.

“Because you were convenient.”

Noah blinked, unable to understand the meaning.

“You’d do anything if I asked, wouldn’t you? You’d carry heavy luggage, you’d push yourself to buy me things I wanted, and you’d come running even in the middle of the night if I called. When I said I was struggling with Dad’s medicine costs, you even lent me money at the expense of your own meals.”

Every single one was a fact.

Noah couldn’t say anything back.

He had done all of it because he loved her. He didn’t want to see her in trouble. He wanted her to be smiling. Just for that.

“That’s why I let myself be your childhood friend.”

Lydie said it effortlessly.

Let myself be.

With those words, something inside Noah creaked.

The girl who would call out for Noah while crying if she fell and scraped her knee as a child. The girl who talked about the future while huddled under a single blanket on a cold winter night. The girl whose eyes sparkled and said, “Isn’t that amazing?” on the day it was decided Noah would join the subjugation party for the first time.

He had believed that all of those moments held feelings of the same weight.

He had believed it, on his own.

“…Lydie.”

A pleading voice came out, one he himself thought was pathetic.

“You’re… joking, right?”

She didn’t answer and walked toward the window. The way she swayed her slender hips looked strangely like that of a woman he didn’t know. Looking back, there wasn’t even a shred of hesitation left in her eyes.

“If I were joking, I wouldn’t have called you to a place like this.”

“Then, what do you mean…”

“I wanted to end it. Properly.”

End it.

Noah was stunned by how lightly that word left her mouth.

“I’m not within your reach anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you understand?”

Lydie placed her hand gently over her abdomen.

The blue stone of the ring swayed in front of her stomach.

“I’m pregnant.”

In that moment, Noah’s mind went completely blank.

Understanding arrived late. Or rather, he refused to understand. A child. Whose? Even without asking, the answer was obvious. Even though he knew, he felt like it wouldn’t become reality until he heard it with his own ears, and Noah just moved his lips.

“…Whose child is it?”

At that, Lydie finally wore a smile truly full of superiority.

“It’s Leon-sama’s child.”

He didn’t think the feeling of the blood draining from his face could be so clear.

The strength nearly left his knees, and Noah unconsciously grabbed the back of a nearby chair. His fingertips trembled. Out of the corner of his eye, the flame of the candelabra flickered. Nausea welled up, and he forgot how to breathe.

Leon.

The Hero Leon.

The man who was always at the center of the crowd, strong, glamorous, praised by everyone—a man who was Noah’s polar opposite.

That man’s child.

“…That’s a lie.”

The voice he managed to get out was terribly weak.

“It’s not a lie. I’ve already been examined. It’s definitely that man’s child.”

“But… since when…”

“Who knows? When do you think?”

Lydie lifted her chin slightly. He could see a faint red mark left on her neck. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but once he saw it, the smell of the room, the two glasses, the disarrayed cushions—everything began to take on a single meaning.

In this room.

Until just moments ago.

Or perhaps even now.

A sound like something being torn apart escaped from the back of Noah’s throat.

Lydie listened to it as she spoke matter-of-factly.

“While you were staggering around in the north, Leon-sama looked after me. He gave me beautiful clothes, proper meals, and a future with a path forward. Even if I stayed with you, I’d just be poor and miserable forever.”

“I…”

“What are you? Despite being incompetent, you come back covered in wounds every time and just stand behind the Hero with a smirk. You never know when you’ll die, and you’ll never be promoted. How am I supposed to live with someone like that?”

Each word pierced him like a blade.

Noah couldn’t say anything. He wanted to talk back, but all that was stuck in the depths of his chest was pain, and it wouldn’t form into words. It was true that he was poor. He wasn’t strong. He had no achievements to his name. He wasn’t a hero.

But.

“…I… about you…”

“I told you I knew, didn’t I?”

She cut him off sharply.

“You liked me, didn’t you? You wanted to get married, didn’t you? That ring was for that, wasn’t it? But you see, Noah.”

Lydie raised her left hand to her chest and twisted the ring as if showing it off.

“That’s why it was just right. I needed something like this. An engagement-like mark? For showing off to the people around me.”

“Engage…ment…?”

“Yes. A formal announcement will be made soon. I’m carrying the Hero’s child. It’s only natural, right?”

Noah bit his lip. He tasted blood.

His mother’s keepsake shone coldly on her finger. The thing Noah had hoped to give to someone precious someday was being treated like an ornament for trampling him down.

“Give it back.”

The voice he squeezed out was close to a plea.

“Just give that back. It’s my mother’s—”

Lydie’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“I refuse.”

“Lydie…!”

“Because this is more suitable for the current me. It’s much better than gathering dust in the back of a drawer at your house, isn’t it?”

“That’s… because I wanted to give it to you.”

“Then isn’t it the same?”

She laughed.

“You wanted to give it to me, didn’t you?”

No.

That’s not it.

It wasn’t meant to be taken like this. Not for trampling. His mother’s ring wasn’t meant for a woman who smiled with a face like that.

He wanted to scream it, but Noah’s throat was terribly tight, and no voice came out.

Just then, a low man’s voice came from the back of the room.

“Isn’t it over yet?”

The air froze.

Heavy footsteps slowly approached.

The inner door opened, and a man appeared.

Platinum hair. Features that were too perfect and cold. He had slightly loosened the high-quality black clothes he wore for the banquet, and the thin cord at his throat hung unfastened. He had the casual air of someone who had been relaxing in his private room and had stepped out to glance at an insignificant visitor.

The Hero Leon.

The man whose name everyone in the capital knew distorted his mouth the moment he saw Noah.

“Ah, you’ve arrived, luggage carrier.”

Just with that way of speaking, the pit of Noah’s stomach went cold.

Without waiting for Noah’s reply, Leon naturally wrapped an arm around Lydie’s waist. Lydie also leaned into his chest with a practiced air. The sight of the two of them standing together was frustratingly picturesque. A lavish room. High-quality clothing. A beautiful hero and a beautifully adorned woman.

Only Noah, standing before them, was out of place and filthy.

“Did you talk to him properly?”

“Yes. He’s just now understood.”

Lydie replied in a sweet voice. It was a soft tone Noah had never heard her use before him.

Leon snorted at that and returned his gaze to Noah.

“Then go home. I’m busy tonight.”

Something inside Noah was about to snap.

“…You.”

A raspy voice escaped.

“You… from the beginning… you knew…”

Leon raised an eyebrow.

“Knew what?”

“About me, about Lydie…”

“Of course I knew.”

Leon said it all too simply.

“It was obvious that you liked her. You were wagging your tail like a dog at the battlefield and at the estate.”

Lydie gave a small laugh.

That laughter was the final blow.

Without knowing what he intended to do, Noah took a step forward. He clenched his fists. He wanted to punch the man in front of him. Just once. This man who had taken his mother’s ring, held Lydie, and was mocking him after knowing everything.

But before he could swing his arm, Leon’s hand grabbed Noah’s wrist.

It was a strength that made him flinch.

Pain shot through him. Against the arm where the reaction of taking on pain still remained, the grip was merciless.

“Don’t touch me.”

A low voice dropped by his ear.

Leon looked down at Noah and smiled only with the corners of his mouth.

“Know your place.”

With a sharp twist of his wrist, Noah was forced to his knees. Before his eyes, which had fallen pitifully to the floor, his mother’s keepsake flickered blue on Lydie’s finger.

Leon’s laughter rained down from above.

“—For someone so incompetent.”