Leona stood frozen, sword in hand, staring at him like he'd just personally offended the entire concept of physics.
"…What the hell are you?" she breathed.
Ban smiled.
"A farmer. And a protector of food justice."
This time, Ryen didn't stay still.
"Let's end this for good!" he shouted, raising his sword high. Holy light flared from the blade, spilling across the arena like a sunrise.
But Ban Frok was ready.
The moment Ryen swung, Ban plucked something from his pocket and hurled it—a handful of okra.
The okra hit mid-swing, swelling unnaturally and twisting around the glowing blade like living vines.
"Wha—?! Ugh!" Ryen grunted, straining as his holy sword became an awkward, slimy mess.
Ban's tone darkened. "If you insist on interfering, then I have no choice… but to get serious."
From nowhere—because apparently farmers had subspace inventories—he produced a cucumber in one hand and a cabbage in the other.
"If you don't want to taste my thick and bumpy boys, step aside."
