Cristy's facial muscles tensed instantly. Beneath his iron-gray complexion, his jaw clenched rigid. He couldn't accept—fighting some brat who hadn't even touched first-tier warrior threshold? That would utterly tarnish Bloodthorn's reputation. He whirled around, finger jabbing precisely at a baby-faced young mercenary behind him: "Bernie! Go—just leave the overconfident little bastard breathing!"
The mercenary named Bernie's mouth twitched, forcing a smile uglier than weeping. Beating up a child before these seasoned veterans? This task felt more disgusting than swallowing a fly. Yet who made him the youngest, weakest wolf in Bloodthorn's pack?
"Bernie barely touched first-tier warrior status six months ago," Cristy's voice hammered toward Adeline with deliberate proclamation. "Bloodthorn's absolute bottom-feeder. Don't say we're bullying!" He fixed his stare on Adeline as if trying to excavate something from her face.
Adeline merely shrugged lazily, as if brushing away dust. None saw the calculating gleam flashing through her eyes—when Arthur threw his challenge at Cristy, had he already calculated encountering Bernie as a stepping stone?
"Wait!" Arthur's voice wasn't loud, yet it struck like a stone hitting water, suppressing the tavern's rising buzz.
Cristy's cold smile froze at his mouth corner: "What now, boy? Wet yourself? Too late! Bernie will remember to leave you alive!"
"I was just thinking," Arthur's voice remained steady as a whetstone, "what happens if I win?"
"You win?" Cristy's laughter exploded—sharp and ear-piercing. "Today's best joke!"
Arthur ignored the grating laughter, gaze nailing Cristy's waist like a spike: "I said if. This world holds more surprises than rats." He pointed: "I want that. The sword at your waist."
Cristy's laughter cut off abruptly, severed like by blade. He instinctively pressed his sword hilt, knuckles whitening: "Sharp eye! This blade—selling you ten times over couldn't buy it! What if you lose?"
"Tony," Arthur's voice carried no ripples, "formally kneels and apologizes to you. Wherever Bloodthorn plants its banner, he immediately disappears!"
"No!" Tony leaped up like touching hot iron, face pale as death. "Never! This little bastard's setting me up!" He roared, spittle nearly spraying Cristy's face.
"Ha ha ha..." Cristy's laughter exploded again before cooling like quenched iron. "Not enough! Tony's worthless knees couldn't match the dust on my scabbard!"
"Cristy! You bastard! I'll kill you!" Repeated humiliation ignited Tony's fury as he charged forward like a maddened bull.
"Then... what about adding this?" Adeline's hand rested lightly on Tony's shoulder—not forceful, yet binding him like iron hoops. Her other hand somehow already gripped a staff—unremarkable black shaft barely over a foot long, topped by a massive crystal flowing with abyssal radiance that seemed to devour surrounding candlelight. A single glance at its silent magical pulses sufficed to freeze the air.
"No!" Tony and Angus' voices collided simultaneously, carrying panic.
Cristy's pupils contracted sharply, greedy light flashing briefly. His throat bobbed once before slowly nodding: "Now that's... proper stakes. Don't regret this, Adeline."
Adeline's lips curved in an inscrutable arc: "Then... shall we begin?"
"Bernie!" Cristy's voice cracked like a whip. "Lose, and get out of Bloodthorn!"
The tavern's clamor completely stilled. Alcohol vapors, sweat, and burning tallow mixed heavily, pressing on every mercenary's heart. Countless gazes—curious, contemptuous, numb—focused on the center. Several greasy wooden tables were roughly shoved aside, clearing barely enough space for two people. More mercenaries remained seated, guzzling cheap ale. To them, this held no suspense: first-tier warrior strength could easily tear apart three to five strong men, while that scrawny child? Bernie could scatter his bones with one punch.
"Kid," Bernie's face reddened like a boiled shrimp, voice dry, "I don't bully children. You go first!" Surrounding veteran mercenaries' blade-sharp stares scraped his skin raw.
Arthur didn't answer. Like a low-crouched young wolf, he slightly arched his spine, leg muscles tensing. Those eyes lifted, locking deadly onto Bernie's throat—cold, focused, without childish panic, only pure predator's killing intent.
Invisible chill suddenly spread. Surrounding mercenaries erupted in sharp gasps and uneasy stirring. Several grizzled veterans instinctively gripped their waisted weapons. This gaze... this vicious aura that only exploded when dying prey's throat was torn open—how could it appear in a child? What had those two years in the orc camp ground him into?
Cristy's fist clenched at his side, knuckles cracking audibly. A thread of cold unease slithered snake-like up his spine.
Arthur moved.
Fast as gray lightning, he crouched and charged, skull ramming Bernie's soft abdomen! Bernie hastily retreated half a step, right leg swinging with turning force like an iron whip filled with fierce wind, tearing air with dull howling toward Arthur's ribs! This kick, if it connected, would send the child flying like a broken sack, spine shattered!
Arthur's forward momentum suddenly halted, almost defying inertia. He rolled sideways with Bernie's whip-kick's wind, dust-covered floor scraping his shoulder. Bernie's kick missed, body tilting slightly from momentum as his fist wrapped in faint white light already crashed down with wind sounds! Combat Aura's humming rang clearly audible.
Arthur moved like a venomous snake hugging the ground, waist and abdomen powering a sudden forward lunge. Bernie's fist grazed his hair before striking the floor with a dull thud.
Two consecutive misses! Bernie's face flushed liver-colored. His toe jabbed the ground, body leaping airborne like an eagle striking rabbits, both claws wrapped in white light viciously grabbing toward the trapped Arthur!
Yet Arthur slipped like an extremely oily fox, rolling directly under a nearby heavy oak table.
"Bang!"
Bernie's foot kicked the table surface viciously! Wood chips and broken board fragments scattered like grapeshot! In that moment of flying debris, a thin figure lunged against the wood trajectory, striking Bernie's unguarded left side!
Bernie roared, left foot as axis, body violently twisting! His just-landed right leg became a blurred whip shadow again, carrying air-tearing shrieks as it lashed toward the approaching Arthur! This kick—faster, more vicious!
"Twenty silver coins." Behind the bar, proprietress Nightingale's placid voice wasn't loud, yet it pierced the combat clamor like an ice pick.
Bernie's body lurched, whip-leg trajectory showing barely perceptible hesitation. In that lightning-flash moment of unsteady balance—
Arthur struck like a fired cannonball, ramming viciously into Bernie's soft side ribs!
"Urgh!" Bernie groaned painfully, staggering back two or three steps before stabilizing. Combat Aura instinctively erupted as both fists wildly swung forward, barely driving back Arthur's attempt to pounce and bite.
Uproarious noise instantly swallowed the tavern! Mercenaries exchanged incredulous looks. Nightingale's interference existed, yet a child had actually forced back a first-tier warrior? This seemed like watching a mouse overturn a wolf!
Cristy's icy gaze shot blade-like toward the bar's Nightingale: "Sister Nightingale, relax. However much gets smashed, I won't short you a copper!"
Nightingale didn't lift an eyelid, methodically polishing a copper mug while humming softly: "Good to know. Whoever breaks it, pays. Natural law."
Tony quietly tugged Adeline's sleeve, voice extremely low with suspicion: "Did... did you already know he could do it?"
Adeline's gaze remained fixed on those two figures grappling again in the center, mouth holding an almost imperceptible smile: "Forgotten how he fought that lion cub? Tony, some people are born with combat instinct carved in their bones... that's the real reason that old fox Kaines kept him."
At the field's center, Bernie's breathing grew heavier like worn bellows. Surrounding whispers and undisguised mocking stares poured like boiling oil on his mind's remaining sanity. Fury completely consumed him. Combat Aura's white light flashed madly around fists and feet, every attack using full force with dull air-breaking sounds. He would crush this slippery insect! Smash him into the floor!
Arthur's figure rolled, leaped, and crouched desperately in the narrow space. Greasy tables and chairs became his only barriers, each dodge barely scraping Bernie's fist winds and leg shadows. Sweat soaked his worn clothes, dust mixing with perspiration to paint grime across his face, yet those eyes remained like quenched daggers—cold and sharp, fixed on Bernie's muscle tremors with each exertion. Bernie's fierce attacks surged like overwhelming tide, yet were draining his stamina and Combat Aura at alarming speed.
Cristy's clenched fist felt cold and clammy. Impossible... that boy was just lucky! How could a child possibly... He shook his head violently, trying to dispel that absurd thought.
Just as Bernie's fury and stamina approached their peak—
Facing Bernie's frontal kick condensed with remaining Combat Aura, Arthur didn't roll away as before. He leaped backward like a startled monkey, nimbly jumping onto another sturdy wooden table behind him!
Bernie's eyes flashed blood-red as he followed without hesitation, whip-leg carrying his final strength with suicidal determination, sweeping viciously toward the table surface! He would shatter both person and table together!
"Crack—!"
The thick oak surface exploded on impact!
In the instant Bernie's foot struck the table and wood chips burst, Arthur borrowed that faint recoil force, body springing upward like a loosed arrow! He actually soared from the flying debris with desperate momentum, diving toward Bernie who'd just kicked the table to pieces and hadn't fully settled!
Bernie's eyes flashed wild joy and savagery! The brat was seeking death! He couldn't retract his extended leg, waist muscles powering violently as his right fist condensed with final Combat Aura became a siege ram, tearing air with ear-piercing humming straight toward Arthur's unprotected chest! Combat Aura's white light blazed blindingly!
Arthur hung mid-air. This time, he didn't dodge. Only at the moment before impact, he twisted his body with extreme difficulty, turning slightly rightward.
"Crack!"
A teeth-grinding, clear bone-snapping sound accompanied Bernie's fist striking flesh, suddenly erupting!
Twisted wild joy still lingered on Bernie's face—
In the same instant his fist smashed Arthur's left shoulder blade, Arthur's right hand swung from pain, five fingers like hooks carrying air-tearing sharpness, fast enough to leave only afterimages, viciously raking across Bernie's eyes!
A shriek inhuman in its agony instantly drowned the bone-crack's crisp sound! Arthur's body flew like a severed kite, massive force hurling him to crash through two chairs before hitting the cold, hard floor heavily.
The screaming still echoed and tore through the tavern's foul air.