SI

Chapter 100: Again ?

"That is fine. In the end, I will leave this place soon anyway; there is no need to overly make things complicated."

CREAK!

As I was savoring the delicious meal in front of me, the tranquility of the inn was suddenly shattered by the deafening sound of the door bursting open.

Startled patrons jumped in their seats, and the previously cheerful morning ambiance was replaced by an atmosphere of surprise and curiosity as everyone's attention swiftly shifted toward the entrance.

'Hmm?'

A tall figure stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame as he surveyed the room with a look of barely concealed irritation.

His clothes were rugged, a mix of leather and worn fabric, and his boots were caked with mud. A heavy, imposing sword hung at his side, its hilt worn from use.

The man's face was hard, weathered by years of battle, with a scar running down his left cheek that only added to his menacing appearance.

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension palpable as everyone waited to see what this newcomer would do.

'But, they seem to know this person.'

They did not show the same reaction that they did to me when I entered, but the fear was still there.

His gaze swept over the patrons, lingering on each one as if assessing their worth before finally settling on me.

His eyes narrowed, and I could feel the weight of his scrutiny. There was a coldness in his stare, a calculation that suggested he was no stranger to violence. This was a man who had seen his share of battles—and had likely caused more than a few of them himself.

Vitaliara's voice whispered in my mind, [Stay alert. This one doesn't look like he's here for a peaceful morning.]

"I noticed," I replied mentally, my hand instinctively drifting toward the hilt of my estoc, which rested by my side. I kept my movements subtle, not wanting to provoke a confrontation unless absolutely necessary.

Just as I felt the cold gaze of the scarred man bore into me, I sensed more presence approaching from behind him. A familiar, unwelcome aura seeped into the room—one I had encountered just yesterday.

'So, they're back for more…'

Ragna and his men filed in behind the tall man, their expressions a mix of fear and determination. It was clear they weren't acting on their own volition anymore. Ragna's eyes flickered with recognition when he spotted me, and a twisted grin spread across his face.

"There he is," Ragna sneered, pointing directly at me. "That's the one who caused us all that trouble."

The moment he spoke, the tall man's gaze hardened further. His cold eyes never left mine as he took a step forward, the sound of his boots echoing ominously through the now-silent inn. The patrons who had been quietly eating their breakfast were now frozen in place, their fear palpable.

'I see….So this is what it is.'

The tall man moved with a deliberate, almost predatory grace, closing the distance between us until he was standing right in front of me. He was even more imposing up close, his presence radiating an aura of danger and command.

He didn't speak at first, merely looking down at me with a disdainful expression. The silence stretched the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. I kept my hand resting lightly on the hilt of my estoc, ready for whatever might come next, but not making any overtly hostile moves.

Finally, the tall man broke the silence, his voice low and gravelly. "So, you're the one who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with my men?"

His tone was calm, almost conversational, but there was an unmistakable threat lurking beneath the surface. He leaned in slightly, his scarred face just inches from mine, as if daring me to give him a reason to escalate this encounter.

I met his gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated. "Your men were the ones who caused trouble first," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "I merely defended myself."

A muscle in the man's jaw twitched, and for a brief moment, I saw a flash of something dangerous in his eyes. But he didn't lash out—not yet, anyway. Instead, he straightened up, his expression shifting from contempt to something more calculating.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said slowly. "But you're stepping into dangerous territory, boy. This isn't a place for heroes. You should've kept your head down."

His hand rested casually on the hilt of his own sword, a clear warning. Behind him, Ragna and his men exchanged glances, eager to see how this confrontation would play out. It was obvious they were relying on their leader to exact some sort of revenge for the humiliation they had suffered.

I could feel Vitaliara's presence sharpening, her instincts telling me that things could go south at any moment. [He's testing you,] she whispered, her voice tinged with concern. [Be careful.]

'Be careful, huh?'

There was indeed tension around the room, something that everyone could sense. But I was already expecting such a thing to happen from the start.

After all, when confronted, cockroaches like Ragna tend to hide behind someone stronger.

"Maybe I should've," I said, my tone even. "But then again, I'm not one to back down when challenged."

The tall man's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Is that so?" He glanced over his shoulder at Ragna, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of anticipation and fear. "Seems like my men underestimated you."

Ragna flinched slightly at the indirect rebuke but quickly regained his composure, glaring at me with undisguised malice. The tall man turned his attention back to me, his expression hardening once more.

"You've got one chance," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Apologize for what you did to my men, and maybe I'll let you walk out of here in one piece."

"Huuh…."

I let out a quiet breath, feeling the tension in the room spike even further. The man was offering me a way out—one that would let me avoid a fight.

But it was clear that this was more than just about an apology. It was about dominance, about showing everyone in the room who held the real power here.

And this was exactly what I wanted.

"Mister Leader, let me ask you something," I said, my voice calm but carrying a weight that demanded attention.

The tall man narrowed his eyes at me, clearly not expecting the shift in tone. "What is it?" he growled, his patience wearing thin.

"Are you married?" I asked, my gaze steady. "Or do you have a significant other?"

The man's brows furrowed in confusion. "Significant other?" he repeated, the term unfamiliar and odd in this context. He glanced at Ragna, who looked just as puzzled, before turning back to me. "What does that have to do with anything?"

I leaned slightly forward, my voice dropping just enough to draw him in. "What if someone were to molest your daughter?" I asked, my tone deadly serious. "What would you do?"

The question hung in the air, the atmosphere in the room growing even heavier. The man's eyes darkened, and I could see a flicker of something dangerous behind them. "If someone were to molest my daughter," he said slowly, his voice dripping with menace, "then that person would no longer be in this world."

"So, you would kill him?" I pressed, my gaze never leaving his.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation, his eyes cold and unforgiving. There was no doubt in his mind, no room for mercy or understanding. The conviction in his voice was chilling, and it was clear that he meant every word.

I nodded, acknowledging his response. "But what if you weren't strong enough?" I continued, my tone unwavering. "What if the person who molested your daughter was stronger than you? What would you do then?"

When asked this, he was not able to give any answer at all at first, as he seemed to be thinking.

'Something that he is not much accustomed to.'

The people of such an era. Especially those who live in the countryside like this.

They are not accustomed to thinking. But when they do, most of them tend to reveal how they were raised.

The man's face twisted with thought, his brow furrowing as he processed my words. It was clear that this wasn't something he was used to contemplating. The concept of strength being the ultimate decider was deeply ingrained in him, but the idea of being powerless in the face of greater strength seemed to trouble him.

After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice cold and resigned. "If that's the case, then I can only blame myself for being weak."

I tilted my head slightly, studying him. "So, by your logic, the strong are allowed to do anything? Without consequence?"

"That's right," he replied, his eyes hardening as if steeling himself against the implications of his own words. "In this world, the strong make the rules. The weak either fall in line or get crushed."

I nodded slowly, a faint smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Then it seems we're in agreement."

That is why I both hated and loved this world at the same time.

In this place, if you are strong enough, you can do anything, and if you are weak, you can't.

"Wh-?"

In that split second, my blade flashed—a quick, precise motion that sliced through the air.

SWOOSH!

The room seemed to freeze, the tension reaching its peak as the patrons watched with bated breath.

The man didn't have time to react. His eyes widened in shock as my estoc was already at his throat, the cold steel pressing against his skin. His breath hitched, and I could see the realization dawning in his eyes—that, at this moment, he was at the mercy of someone stronger.

The silence in the room was deafening, every eye on us as I held the blade steady, my expression calm and unyielding. I could feel the weight of my words, of the situation, settling over him like a heavy shroud.

"Then, by your own rules," I said quietly, my voice low and firm, "you've lost."

Chapter 101: Again ? (2)

Regardless of what we do in our lives or how we are proven wrong, people often cling to their beliefs. It's a curious thing—how the mind works. We can be faced with undeniable proof, yet we find ways to justify our actions and mold reality to fit our narrative. It's a stubbornness rooted deep within us, a refusal to admit that we might have been wrong.

"Then, by your own rules. You've lost."

Take this man, for example. Even now, with my blade at his throat, I could see the wheels turning in his mind, searching for a way to reconcile what just happened with the worldview he's held onto for so long. In his world, strength is everything. But what happens when that strength is challenged? When it's shown to be insufficient?

The truth is, most people don't change. They double down, holding onto their beliefs even tighter because to admit they're wrong would be to admit weakness. And in a world like this, weakness is the one thing no one can afford to show.

But there's another side to it as well. Sometimes, we say things we don't truly believe, and actions and words are misaligned. We claim to value strength, but when faced with someone stronger, we balk. We claim to despise cruelty, but when it benefits us, we turn a blind eye. It's hypocrisy at its finest, and yet it's a part of who we are.

People are contradictions, walking a thin line between what they believe and what they do. They'll preach about justice yet turn around and commit the very acts they claim to despise. They'll speak of honor and loyalty yet betray those closest to them when it suits their needs.

And why? Because deep down, we're all just trying to survive in a world that doesn't make sense. We latch onto beliefs, rules, and codes because they give us a semblance of order, something to hold onto in the chaos. But when the moment comes, when those beliefs are tested, that's when we see who we truly are.

"If I wanted to move my blade just one inch more, your neck would no longer be connected. Your head would be spinning on the ground, and this place would be dyed in blood."

This guy before me is some sort of a leader. He was most likely a two-star Awakened, something that not many people were.

They most likely thought that if they were to bring a two-star here, they would be able to deal with me.

But that can not be the case.

After all, I am a three-star Awakened, and I am not even a normal Awakened myself. I am different, as my strength can not be completely measured in terms of normal cultivation standards.

The man's eyes flickered between my blade and my face, a mixture of fear and anger playing across his features. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he tried to muster some semblance of control over the situation.

"If you were to do such a thing," he growled, his voice low and trembling with barely contained rage, "this city won't let you go. Do you have any idea who I am?"

I tilted my head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No," I replied calmly, "I don't know you. But I have some ideas."

The man's eyes narrowed, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening. "Then, if you know it, how dare you still resist? Do you think you can get away with this? I'm not someone you can just push around, kid."

I shook my head slowly, my gaze steady and unwavering. "I'm not resisting," I said, my tone even. "You and your men are the ones being unreasonable. From the start, your subordinate was the first to bother me, harassing a girl here in this very inn. And then, it was you—the superior—who came looking for me with a threat."

His face twisted in anger, but I could see the uncertainty creeping into his eyes. The weight of my words was starting to sink in, and the reality of the situation was becoming clearer to him. He was outmatched, both in strength and in resolve, and deep down, he knew it.

"You think you can just do whatever you want because you're strong?" he spat, his voice laced with desperation. "This city has rules. There are consequences for actions like yours."

I chuckled softly, the sound devoid of humor. "This city has rules, you say? Then there were those rules when your men decided to harass an innocent girl? Where were those consequences when they thought they could do as they pleased without fear of retribution?"

The man's eyes darted around the room as if searching for support from the patrons who were watching the exchange with a mixture of fear and fascination. But there was no one here who would stand with him, not after seeing the clear disparity in power.

"You came here expecting me to bow to your so-called authority," I continued, my voice dropping to a cold whisper. "But authority means nothing if it's built on the backs of the weak. Strength without justice is nothing more than tyranny, and I have no intention of bowing to tyrants."

He opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out.

"In any case, thanks to you, my mood is now ruined."

The man's eyes widened in surprise, his jaw clenching as he tried to process what I had just said. The shift in my demeanor was unmistakable—I was no longer interested in playing this little game of dominance. The time for talk had passed.

I stood up slowly, my gaze never leaving his. "Since I no longer have an appetite, let's keep things simple," I said, my tone cold and devoid of any pretense of civility. "Take me to your superior."

His eyes narrowed in response, confusion, and anger flashing across his face. "What?" he growled, clearly not expecting this turn of events.

I tilted my head slightly, my expression hardening. "Do you have a problem with hearing?" I asked, my voice dripping with mockery. "I said, take me to your superior. Now."

His eyes darted to his men, who were standing behind him, uncertain and clearly uncomfortable with how things had escalated. The man's pride was on the line, and I could see the struggle in his eyes as he weighed his options.

"Do you think you can just—" he began, but I cut him off with a sharp glare.

"I'm not asking," I said, taking a step closer, my presence looming over him. "I'm telling you. Take me to your superior, or this ends here, and it won't be in your favor."

The coldness in my voice left no room for argument. He could see that I wasn't bluffing, that I was prepared to follow through on my words. The realization seemed to sink in, and I could see the fear in his eyes as he finally understood the gravity of the situation.

"Fine," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "Follow me."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the inn, his men scrambling to follow. I waited a moment before moving, giving them just enough time to realize that they were being watched, that their every step was under scrutiny.

Vitaliara's voice echoed in my mind as I followed them out. [This is a bold move, Lucavion. Are you sure about this?]

"Of course."

[You are going right into the enemy's base.]

"Enemy?" I asked, my tone more curious than anything else.

[Aren't they?] Vitaliara's voice carried a hint of confusion. [After all, you've intimidated them and threatened them. Doesn't that make them your enemies?]

I shook my head slightly as I followed the man through the streets, the morning light casting long shadows on the ground. "They're certainly not people I like," I admitted. "But that doesn't automatically make them my enemies. Especially not from the city's perspective."

[City's perspective?] Vitaliara's voice was laced with intrigue. [What do you mean by that?]

I nodded thoughtfully as we walked. "Do you really think everyone in this city is unreasonable? That everyone acts purely out of pride and nothing else?"

[Isn't that how humans are?] she countered, her tone skeptical. [Driven by pride, ego, and the need to prove themselves?]

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "If that's what you think, then you need to broaden your horizons, Vitaliara. Sure, some people are like that, but not everyone. There are those who think beyond their pride and act with reason and purpose. They're the ones who keep a city running, who maintain order even in chaos."

Vitaliara was silent for a moment as if considering my words. [You're saying there are people here who could be allies?]

"Potentially," I replied. "Or at least people who can be reasoned with. Not everyone in power is a brute."

At that moment, the man leading me came to a halt in front of a large, imposing building. It was a sturdy structure made of weathered stone with reinforced wooden doors, the kind that had seen many years and many conflicts.

He turned to face me, his expression still one of barely concealed irritation. "We've arrived," he said curtly. "Wait here. I'll call my superior."

"Sure," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. As the man turned and disappeared inside the building, I took a moment to assess my surroundings.

Vitaliara's voice echoed in my mind again, [You seem pretty confident that this will go your way.]

"Indeed I am."

[How?]

"You will see."

A few moments passed in silence, the weight of the situation settling around me as I waited outside the building.

Then, the door creaked open, and a different man stepped out.

'Oh. This one is legit.'

Chapter 102: Roderick

The man who had taken a step outside was taller and broader than the first, his presence commanding attention. His face bore the scars of countless battles, and his eyes held the hardened look of someone who had seen more bloodshed than most could imagine.

As soon as I saw him, I knew—this was someone who had been through wars, someone who had survived when others hadn't.

His aura was heavy with experience, the kind that only comes from being on the front lines of countless conflicts.

'It is tingling.'

There was a certain pressure coming at him, something that I was very well accustomed to.

He took one look at me, his gaze sharp and assessing, before turning to the man who had brought me here. "Hector," he said, his voice deep and gruff, tinged with a slight irritation. "You're telling me this young pup is the one who beat you and your men? Are you mocking me?"

Hector, the man who had led me here, flinched slightly at the superior's tone. "No, Captain," he said quickly, his voice trembling just a bit. "He's stronger than he looks. We… we underestimated him."

The captain narrowed his eyes at me, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be sizing me up, trying to determine if I was worth his time or if I was just another upstart looking to make a name for myself.

I met his gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated. This was a man who commanded respect, yes, but I had faced worse. Much worse.

The captain's lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile, though it carried no warmth. "You've got guts, kid," he said, his tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "But guts alone don't get you far in this world."

"No, they don't," I agreed, my voice steady. "But they're a good start."

The captain's eyes flickered with interest, though his expression remained hard. "Puhahaha….." Then he suddenly laughed hard, his hand on his stomach.

The captain's laughter echoed through the courtyard, a deep, almost mocking sound that carried an undercurrent of danger. His men, who had been watching in tense silence, began to close in around me, their hands resting on their weapons, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

The atmosphere shifted, the tension thickening as they prepared for a possible confrontation.

I could feel their bloodlust, the hunger for violence that simmered just beneath the surface.

Though many of them were likely 1-star or 2-star Awakened, they were still formidable in their own right.

But it was the captain's aura that truly commanded attention—a pressure that marked him as a seasoned warrior, someone who had ascended to at least 3-star.

The captain's laughter died down, but the smirk remained on his face as he looked at me with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "You've got a smart mouth, kid," he said, his tone laced with a warning. "But you're standing in the middle of my men. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have them tear you apart right here and now."

The men around me tensed, their hands tightening on their weapons. The captain's words hung in the air, a clear challenge and a test of my resolve.

But instead of flinching, I met the captain's gaze head-on, my own expression calm and unyielding. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I slowly scanned the faces of the men surrounding me, then returned my focus to the captain.

"Because if you do," I began, my voice steady and unwavering, "I'm confident I'll take more than half of these men down with me."

The captain's eyes narrowed, his amusement fading as he registered the seriousness in my tone. Whether I was bluffing or not….It was something that he could not measure at all.

"And considering the state that this town is in, I doubt you can afford to do such a thing."

I kept my gaze locked on the captain's, the tension between us palpable. He was a seasoned warrior, someone who had seen more than his share of bloodshed, but so had I. And in this standoff, I knew I had the upper hand—not just because of my confidence, but because I understood the situation in this town better than he might realize.

As I stared him down, my thoughts drifted back to what Harlan had told me about my mission.

He wanted me to kill the bandits while keeping my sword intact. While that my just sound like a test to me, there was also another reason why he requested such a thing from me.

The town had been struggling ever since most of its Awakened had been sent off to war.

Bandits had taken advantage of the power vacuum, preying on the weak, and those who remained were spread thin, doing their best to maintain order. Every Awakened man in this town was valuable, a crucial piece in keeping the fragile peace that was left.

That led to the situation where the Awakened became more powerful than they were supposed to, with less authority.

By making me deal with the bandits, Harlan also aimed to achieve peace. And, that simultaneously affected the city as well, just like the captain before me.

'And that's exactly why he won't risk a fight he can't afford,' I thought, my confidence solidifying.

The captain's eyes flickered with a mix of calculation and doubt. He was weighing the potential cost of pushing this any further, and I could see the moment he decided it wasn't worth it. His men were watching him, waiting for his decision, and I knew he wouldn't gamble their lives—or his own—on a fight that could leave them weakened.

Finally, he let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the tension easing just a fraction. "You're not wrong," he admitted, his tone grudging. "This town's hanging on by a thread, and I can't afford to lose any more good men."

I held his gaze, my expression unchanging. "Exactly. We both know the value of keeping your forces intact, especially in a place like this."

The captain studied me for another moment, then laughed again, the sound rough but genuine this time. "You're good, kid. Real good. I was testing you, and it seems you passed. Now, what do you want?"

I allowed a small smile to grace my lips, knowing I had gained a measure of respect from this man. "Why don't we discuss that somewhere more comfortable?"

The captain's laughter rumbled once more, and he shook his head in amusement. "Right, right, where are my manners?" He turned and gestured for me to follow. "Come on then. We'll talk inside."

As I followed him into the building, Vitaliara's voice echoed in my mind, [You played that well.]

'I knew he wouldn't take the risk,' I replied mentally. 'It's all about knowing what cards to play and when.'

[You…..You really are reckless.]

"Hehe…."

As I stepped into the building, the heavy wooden door creaked shut behind me, cutting off the outside world. The room was dimly lit, with a few flickering lamps casting long shadows on the walls. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of aged wood and the faint aroma of tobacco, creating a sense of age and history that permeated the space.

The captain led me to a small table near the back of the room, where he finally stopped and turned to face me. His expression was slightly more relaxed now, the tension from our earlier encounter having eased. "I realize I forgot to introduce myself," he said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "Name's Roderick. I'm the one responsible for the garrison here."

"Lucavion," I replied with a nod. "Just a traveler passing through."

Roderick let out a low chuckle as he gestured for me to take a seat at the table. "Well, Lucavion, it seems you've already made quite an impression here in Rackenshore."

"That was not my intention."

I took the offered seat, my eyes scanning the room out of habit before settling on Roderick again. He waved to a nearby attendant, who quickly brought over a tray with a steaming pot of tea and two cups. The captain poured the tea himself, a small gesture of respect that didn't go unnoticed.

We sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the soft clink of porcelain and the distant murmur of voices outside. Roderick took a sip of his tea before finally speaking, his tone more serious now. "So, what is it that you want, Lucavion? You didn't come here just to show off your skills. There's something on your mind."

I nodded, setting my cup down as I met his gaze. "You're right. I didn't come here just for a fight."

Roderick raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "Go on."

I leaned forward slightly, my voice steady as I explained. "Rackenshore is hanging by a thread, as you said. The bandits around here are a threat not just to the villagers but to the stability of this town. They're taking advantage of the power vacuum left by the war, and it's only a matter of time before things get even worse."

Roderick nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing in thought. "And you think you can change that?"

"I can," I replied confidently. "I am going to clean this place."