I could feel it. The silent rage that emanated from Catalan as he circled towards his downed ally. Naturally, I had no reason to prevent him from doing so. He boldly proclaimed that he would remove me from this event, but I could tell that he was hesitant to attempt it.
Despite their claims of being men who saved Theoscyran from a siege of a hundred-plus men, these guys were more timid than I anticipated. Then again, if I witnessed someone flicking my sword and cratering the ceiling, I guess any normal person might hesitate as well.
"I guess ya were all talk," I said, taunting the male.
My finger arched through the air and pointed towards the Catalan. A frown appeared on his face, yet he still didn't move against me in the slightest. I expected someone who was more impressive, considering that this man was Mirield's fiancé. He seemed so full of life and words when he was spitting game towards those women.
"Well, I guess -"
Before I realized it, the smack of my clothing had transpired. The room shifted, and my body was forced to a different section of the area. Yet, I remained standing. My stance altered to a more defensive one with my forearms now guarding my chest. There was this gut feeling, and when I gathered my wits once more, he was there. His fist pressed against my side, and his eyes widened to the size of spotlights.
Since I focused on Catalan, I didn't even consider the idea that he may have had help outside of the two men who were presently here. So you can imagine my surprise when I locked eyes with a bulky man with a clean-shaven head, who dared to attack me sneakily. Compared to the other two drunk men, this one was powerful enough to push me back a few feet.
Therefore, I had to deal with him immediately. I took advantage of his current surprised state, and I attempted to swipe away the hand pressed against my side. This action was enough to throw the male into a stagger, which surprised me, considering the considerable effort I had put into it.
Nonetheless, I aimed to punish him, so I clenched my opposing fist and shifted my body to strike the taller man in the dead center of his chest. It traveled, but in that moment, it found nothing other than the marble ground below our feet. Somehow, he dodged my counterattack.
There was a loud crash, and cracks appeared in the surrounding floor tile. The impact slightly shook our surroundings, reminding all those who witnessed the impact zone of a spider's web with its fissures. The insect I had desired to trap has now found its place beside Catalan.
"Whoa there! I'm surprised that you managed to withstand that one. You are quite the resilient man! Hahaha!" my attacker said. His voice was jovial, and his bulky arms crossed over his chest.
His face was filled with a smile as he watched me return to a standing pose. Looking at him in comparison to the others, this man seemed more powerful. Not only was he built like a bodybuilder, but he also willingly chose to let his mustache grow in that way.
The very edges above his lip were thin with hair, but the center there was not even a trace. Not to mention that this man was a human compared to his elven comrade, Catalan. Not only that, but he was tan. His clothes, while not on the level of his comrade's, were still leagues above Gawne's attire in quality.
"Of course. Ya snuck attacked me. It's not surprising, but it won't make much difference. Ya fucked around. Time for ya to find out."
Staring into the eyes of the two men, I clenched one of my fists and punched the open palm of its partner. No more words were needed. I was ready to throw hands. With that decision made, my mouth found itself stretching into a smile as I rushed towards the men. My first target was the taller man, although, in comparison, he'd probably be taller than Mark; that wouldn't save him from me. Once in striking distance, my left arm shot out towards the gut of the man, but surprisingly, once again, it found nothing but the table behind them.
You would have sworn an explosion had rocked that table, but that was just my fist. It scattered the wooden whole into mere chunks and splinters. That was to be expected. What I didn't expect was the speed these two used to avoid my attack. Both Catalan and this man had the reaction time to grab both of their allies and dodge my strike. Much like the floor from earlier, the men split to the side to avoid my attack. In my peripheral vision, I noticed them jumping to my previous position behind me.
'What in the absolute fuck…'
Those words bounced around my skull, but I didn't allow my true feelings to appear on my face. These fuckers may not be strong per se, but they were fast. They were not shy about using it either, since as soon as I turned around to face them, I found a fist traveling my way. Its target was my face, and I barely had enough time to move my forearm up to intercept it. That would have worked if I were right.
One- Two- Three stiff blows found themselves buried into my chest. Each blow was strong enough to force me to take a step back. I was entirely caught off guard, but that didn't last long. He may have gotten his three-piece, but this was the end of his combo.
"Here's ya drink, dumb-ass!" I yelled at him.
To counter the movement that had been forced onto me, I had done a half step forward, and he punched me in the chest. This action alarmed the man, but it would not matter. He was too late. While he threw his fifth punch, he was quickly met with an uppercut to his chest.
That was the goal, at least, but somehow this man managed to twist that bulky body of his out of the way. Once again, I found nothing at the receiving end of my fist. In an instant, he found his way back to the side of an amused Catalan. Their laughter boomed, reminding me of my own earlier when I toyed with Gawne. I love to fight as much as anyone, but it was apparent to all those present that I was on the back foot.
"Hahaha! I am Dante the Indomitable! Don't be too surprised if you can't hold a candle!"
This man was pissing me off. First, he ambushed me, and now I can not land a single attack against him, and we both know it.
"I don't give a damn if they call you the 'Abominable Snowman,' I'll still rock yer shit right here, right now."
I meant my words. The crowd of people around us seemed to become increasingly aware of the situation. It was pretty hard to overlook the mess I was creating with every attack. "Dante the Indomitable," my ass. I will not allow such disrespect to go unanswered. He laid his hands on me, and soon, when I lay mine on him, then it'll be all over for him.
"Surrender now. Surely you have realized that you are outmatched. There are two- no, three of us, and merely one of you," Catalan said.
He was ultimately correct, but there was one fact that I was aware of. Although they were faster, history showed me that I was stronger. Dante's attacks might stagger me, but I'll one-tap him when the opportunity arises.
The numbers game merely provided them with a brief advantage. With that conclusion drawn, my fists tightened and hovered at my waist. A confident smile rushed over my face, masking my frustrations. I was poised and ready to strike like a cobra eyeing its prey.
"That isn't right. Two. Two versus three."
That deep boomed over the audible murmuring of the drunken spectators. The voice was familiar, as it should be.
'Good to see you, Bishop.'
Speaking over the crowd was my friend, Bishop. His lean figure slithered between the two men and ultimately stood between the two parties. His gaze was cold, and his face was shaped out of stone. Yet, my elven friend stood there with his hands casually in his pockets. He seemed to be assessing the situation in its entirety before he ultimately looked in my direction.
"You should cease with the horseplaying, Bud. Are you some type of savage barbarian?" Bonner says in a scolding manner.
"You should know better than that. I was holding back, so I wouldn't harm the people here. Not exactly what I would consider horseplaying….Just…roughhousing…slightly."
With his introduction of that, it meant that this altercation had likely gathered the attention of the upper brass of this party. Claire didn't seem to be nearby, but she was likely on her way as well. I had provided Bishop with a playful chuckle before the male's face cracked into a similar expression.
Meanwhile, Catalan and Dante seemed to be sizing up the man as soon as he made his appearance. Bishop picked up on that and immediately shifted his attention to the duo.
"Looks like another player has entered our game, then. You don't seem that strong, so how -"
"Who the hell are you? I'm a pro. You are an amateur. I suggest that you learn your place," Bishop says towards the bald man.
His gaze shifted to him instantly before moving towards my location. His hand found a place on my shoulder before he gestured with his head towards the crowd.
"She wants us to head out now. We have learned enough," Bishop said.
It was clear to me what he was indicating, so I decided to follow his words. My hands loosened, and the previous fists ready for battle found themselves sprawled comfortably against the fabric of my shirt.
"Ah. That's good. I know just where -"
My eyes narrowed, and in that moment, I pulled my friend behind me. A stiff blow found its home on my chest, and despite my attempting to hold my ground, I slid back an inch. Without a doubt, that was an attack from Dante the Indomitable. The fiery eyes of the man proved that fact to be true.
"Hahaha! You do not think that we will allow you to leave now, right?" Dante says, leaping away immediately.
That man was a coward through and through, and I was disgusted by it. The crunch of snapped wood scattering from his movement filled our ears, as well as the audible gasps of the people witnessing our encounter.
"You alright, Bud?" Bishop asks immediately.
Since he was behind me now, I felt the palms of his hands resting against my back. That last attack from Dante was a lot stronger than the rest, and I felt the sting of it on my left pectoral. I am sure that it was the assistance of Bishop that I managed to slide a mere inch away. My face quickly grew hot, and before I knew it, my fists were locked and loaded once more. The smug faces of those two men were rubbing salt in my wound, and the waitress Arlette didn't say a single thing.
All that she had to do was tell the truth, and these fools would not have their fucking skulls cracked. I had agreed with Bishop's suggestion, but now I did not.
"That shit was lame!" I barked at them
I want to punch a god damn hole in his fucking chest.
"I told you that I will personally see to it that we take you out for your transgression against this waitress and your actions against our friends, Lowborn. Just because you brought in a filthy half blood, doesn't mean that changes things," Catalan declares.
The man stared daggers at Bishop, and that caught his attention. Not only that, but his words stuck out to me. Low born…Half blood…Foxkin… These people sure love to hate on others. The fact that he called me that isn't what pissed me off, but it was the fact that many of the others in the crowd suddenly began jeering at us.
They fell victim to the lies of this man, just as he fell victim to the lies of his friends. Dante went along with it, and even Arlette, the woman who started this and whom I had assisted, stood along as a passerby.
Each second that went by, the tighter my fists became. Fuck holding back now. I do not give a damn about these people. Let's just keep things simple. I began moving a step towards the men before I felt a tug at the top of my shoulder. I was getting ready to run those men's pockets before Bishop had intervened.
I looked towards him before catching a glance at his disapproving head shake. He was likely telling me that they weren't worth it, but he was wrong. Knocking their heads off their shoulders would be worth it. I was determined, and as I turned back to face the two men, Catalan decided to make the first move. His shattered blade in hand, the man leapt to engage me. His sword was positioned right next to his left leg before quickly arching high up towards my chest. His speed alone made the distance between us obsolete. He wanted to fulfill his promise.
Clang!
My eyes widened as suddenly a spark transpired right before my eyes. It was so quick that I could barely make out what had just happened here.
"That is enough!"
Those words boomed from in front of me, and then a torrent of water appeared before me and swallowed Catalan's figure. He traveled a few feet before slamming back first against the wall near the shattered table. The man was reduced to bending his knee and desperately gasping for air.
That result was truly unexpected, not only for me, but even the smug face of Dante, the so-called Indomitable, wore a face of surprise.
Unlike my own, his face soon warped into that of complete uneasiness. It took a moment to realize that a column of water just suddenly manifested and carried my opponent away. Convenient, but I needed to know the origin. I distinctly remembered seeing a bright flash before the water's appearance.
I began assessing the situation, and when I looked towards the direction of Catalan again, I noticed a sword sticking diagonally out of the ground. The hilt of the blade was pointed away from the man and towards the direction from which I assumed it originated.
"You three must have lost your minds!" the voice yelled again.
This time, I had noticed that the loud shouting belonged to a woman. It was powerful and filled with authority. It had snapped my attention towards the person responsible for all of the yelling. Standing before the surprised crowd of spectators were now several armored individuals with their blades at the ready. I had noticed the design of their clothing, and it resembled that of the members of the Blois' guards from earlier.
The woman standing at the helm wore different attire. She was dressed up essentially like any other member of this event. No. Her clothes were leagues above the quality of the others. The dress she wore covered her shoulders halfway and flowed down into a delicate, rounded neckline. It's a comfortable fit that gives the dress a relaxed yet graceful look. Her arms are completely uncovered.
I assume that they serve to accentuate her gorgeous skin. It also keeps the focus on other parts of the dress. The dress's waist is broad, but it fits tightly. A cloth ribbon has been wrapped around her and is tied on one side. Below the waist, the dress widens and has a symmetric draped style. The dress reaches down to her feet and is the same length all around.
She's wearing ballerina flats, much like the ones I noticed on Claire's feet. I assume that to her, they were gorgeous on their own and an ideal match in combination with the dress. To top it all off, she's wearing a bow in her dark blue hair and several jeweled bracelets.
Her gaze was at least four times as fierce as that of Catalan's, and Dante shriveled up when they landed on her. Yet, when they landed on me, they found my own to stare into.
'Wait…she looks familiar…'
"Arch-Captain… Esta Dawn," Bonner murmured behind me. "Prepare yourself, Bud."
His voice was as deep as usual, but I could sense the edge in it. He was wary of this woman, despite her pretty looks; she had an aura about her. A sense of danger, and she was enforcing it onto the men in her gaze. I was ready to fight anyway, Bishop. As I observed the woman and with the assistance of Bishop, it dawned on me. She was present when we first met Mordred in the garden.
A woman who has received the rank of Arch-Captain alongside Vanya Silvers. Although I wanted to keep things simple... I may have inadvertently made things complicated. Said woman raised her hand and directed it towards those involved. She spoke in a loud and demanding voice,
"Give yourselves up or face me in battle! The result will end the same!"