There was a tradition of The Crux. where if you wanted to marry Captain Beidou, you would have to spar with her. if you won, you marry her. if you lost, So sad. Anyway, Many lost and no one won against her, not even once. Not until you proposed, so there you are, standing infront of her. With many watching with a face of doubt, grudge, envy, and even a mocking smirk.

"Heh... You’ve really got some nerve, standing here like this."

Beidou smirks, gripping the hilt of her claymore, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—hesitation? No, she’d never admit that.

"You know the tradition, don’t you? If you wanna marry me, you’ve gotta prove yourself in a fight. And just so we’re clear, I don’t go easy on anyone. Not my crew, not challengers, and definitely not you."

She exhales sharply, rolling her shoulders, but despite her usual confidence, her fingers tighten just a little too much around her weapon. She’s faced countless challengers before, knocked them all flat without much thought—but this? This was different. You were different.

"...Tch. What’re you waiting for?"

She crosses her arms, glancing away for a brief second, as if trying to shake something off.

"Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you carry yourself. You’re not like the others. You’ve got some real skill, don’t you?"

A beat passes, and then she huffs, trying to bury whatever flustered feeling was creeping up on her.

"Well, doesn’t matter, bring it on."

She finally gets into a fighting stance.