First Fight

If I wanted to awaken, I needed resources—a lot of them.

And to get those resources, I had to develop this place, create multiple sources of income, and build something sustainable.

If I couldn't find what I needed, I would have to buy it. That was the safest option, so naturally, my mind leaned in that direction.

But before making any decisions, I had to start with the basics.

Gauging their strength.

I stepped out of the carriage and strode into the center of town.

"Hello, my precious people! Your beloved lord has returned from his slumber. Are you ready for a revolution?"

My heartfelt speech was, of course, met with disgusted expressions.

Not a single person believed my bullshit.

But—despite their distaste—they still gathered, drawn in by my voice. At the very least, I still had some authority.

I studied them carefully.

Their homes were in ruins, and their clothes weren't much better—rags and monster hides… No, actually, plant hides.

It looked as if they had skinned a plant to make their garments, and now they were rotting like fallen leaves.

Their skin had a faint yellow tint to its natural green. Malnutrition? Disease? Hard to say.

I smirked, adding a hint of mockery to my tone.

"Come on, show me some excitement! Are you all still sulking over what I did before? That was nothing in the grand scheme of things."

I spread my arms wide, as if embracing them.

"You want a better life, right? Then follow me like good little toddlers."

That hit a nerve.

Several tall, bulky men pushed forward from the crowd.

Their burning hatred was clear as day.

From the sidelines, that damn mother maid looked far too amused.

Traitor.

Still, something wasn't adding up.

Why are they this healthy?

They shouldn't be this well-built.

Where the hell were they getting the nutrition to grow this big?

This place was worse than a slum—yet these guys looked like bodybuilders.

Before I could think too hard about it, they attacked.

"You pathetic excuse for a human—just DIE!"

"Our lives were better when you were gone! We should just get rid of you permanently!"

"Well said, brother! Let's kill this slime!"

Ah. Slime.

That's what got me? Not the death threats?

I cracked my knuckles.

Fine. If they wanted a fight, I'd use this opportunity to let off some steam.

Five men lunged at me at once.

They swung their fists wildly, their kicks lacked power, and their movements were sluggish.

No technique. No strategy.

They were big, but that was all they had.

I dodged two of them easily and countered the third with a punch straight to the liver.

The man collapsed instantly, squirming on the ground in pain.

Pathetic.

The remaining four hesitated, reevaluating their situation.

Then, with a roar, they charged again.

Better. At least they weren't backing down.

I stomped on one guy's bare foot.

Not wearing shoes? Really?

He yelped, hopping on one leg like a wounded rabbit.

The other three hesitated at the distraction.

I didn't.

I front-kicked one, then uppercut another.

They dropped like sacks of grain.

Only one remained standing.

He was the 'bigger guy' of them all, towering over me.

I hoped—prayed, even—that he would take one look at his fallen comrades and surrender.

But no.

He clenched his fists, his rage unwavering.

For a long moment, we simply stared at each other.

Then, at the same time—we charged.

He grabbed my collar and hurled me into my own carriage.

I barely had time to recover before he followed up with a barrage of punches.

I raised my arms to block, but his speed took me by surprise.

So there was someone competent here.

The others, seeing their chance, jumped back into the fight.

Perfect.

I used their own bodies against them, maneuvering in a way that made them hit each other instead of me.

Their coordination was a mess.

The fight dragged on, but eventually, they were the ones who got exhausted first.

They stood before me, panting, drenched in sweat, barely able to stand.

I was breathing hard too, but compared to them? I was just getting started.

"You coward! Fight like a man! Stop running!"

Yeah, yeah. Keep screaming.

"Fight like a man" and get pummeled into the ground?

No thanks.

I kicked his knee, making him buckle.

Before his friends could react, I smashed his face in with a clean punch.

He dropped like a log.

Another guy, desperate, grabbed me by the collar—only to be met with a quick jab to the throat.

He let go immediately, choking.

The rest of them froze.

Even the biggest one.

But I wasn't done.

I grabbed one and slammed his face into the dirt.

I swept another's legs out, caving them inward.

And finally, I dislocated the bigger guy's arm.

The crowd watched in silence.

No one dared to help them.

I exhaled, wiping sweat from my brow.

"So this is their strength…"

It was bad.

No coordination, no real technique, just raw strength with no proper control.

Maybe Einar was competent, the people he had to work with were beyond moronic.

Or… worst case scenario, he killed off the competent ones.

I sighed, my head starting to ache.

How the hell was I supposed to make use of these people?

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"…Guess it's time to visit Baldy again."