âHaha. As if Stonevilleâs scent of money wasnât enoughâŠâ
The elf with a pointed smile exhaled a thick cloud of smoke as he stood up.
He casually approached Ianâs table, continuing, âTo think, now even disgusting would-be demons are crawling in here.â
His voice was as cold as his appearance.
Itâs convenient that he came over himself butâŠ.
Ian calmly chewed on his bread and glanced at Charlotte. Her expression remained unbothered, mirroring his own. As Ian subtly shook his head at her, the elf stopped beside their table.
He dropped his cigarette to the floor and ground it under his heel, speaking further, âThereâs no place here for filthy beasts like you, beastfolk. So quietly finish your meal and get lost. Unless you want to end up as a rug in Viscount Calderdaleâs mansion.â
So he works under the Viscount.
Ian took a bite of his sausage. Viscount Calderdale was the lord of Stoneville and the owner of the manor on the hill. ÆĐłeewebnovŃl.com
The elf didnât even glance at Ian, acting as if he didnât exist. Charlotte, however, watched for his reaction before finally setting down her mug and laughing quietly.
This đŹontent is taken from fĐłeewebnovŃl.cođą.
âRight. Thanks to that guy, I almost forgot how despicable your kind are.â
âIf you want, draw your sword anytime. Iâll let you feel what itâs like to be hunted like the beast you are.â Charlotte, smiling with her fangs bared, slowly stood up. Straightening her back, she towered over the elf by nearly half a head.
Looking down at him, she spoke, âSeems like youâre not confident on your own.â
âWhat...?â
âIf I disgust you so much, you couldâve thrown me out yourself instead of threatening me with your boss.â
âHa⊠you must have a death wish.â
âAs long as youâre willing, pointy ears,â Charlotte whispered, her voice dripping with menace.
A cold smile spread across the elfâs face.
âThen Iâll kill you without damaging your pelââ
The elfâs words trailed off as Charlotte suddenly grabbed him by the collar and slammed him onto the table. She twisted his arm behind his back and pinned him down with her elbow. The spilled beer soaked his face and hair.
As the elfâs companions instinctively rose, Charlotte added, âIâll cut your ears off first. Itâll sting a bit.â
Ian, who had anticipated this and held a plate of sausages in one hand, said to Charlotte as she reached for her dagger, âNo blades. Only fists.â
He didnât trust the elf to fight fairly. If things went south, he would likely flee and return with reinforcements. Drawing weapons would escalate the situation. Plus, it would mean losing their hot bath and warm bedâthough that was a secondary concern.
Ian wanted to ask the elf something, but if Charlotte used her dagger, she wouldnât leave him alive, regardless of Ianâs orders.
She placed her dagger back and replied, âFine, that works too.â
At that moment, the elfâs arm swung upward with inhuman flexibility. He twisted his body, and his fist shot up toward Charlotteâs chin.
Charlotte released his arm and leaned back. The elf sprang to his feet, looking at his companions with annoyance.
âStay back! Just block the door!â
They hesitated but complied, taking their places by the door with their weapons at the ready. They didnât look like amateurs. Each grabbed a drink and positioned themselves defensively.
Meanwhile, the elf lunged at Charlotte again, now using his bare fists. Of course, wearing steel gauntlets made them a formidable weapon in their own right.
âOh,â Charlotte exclaimed in surprise, dodging and countering his punch.
The elf deflected her blow with his arm and closed the distance. A fierce hand-to-hand brawl ensued.
Smack! Thud! Crashâ
The tavern quickly descended into chaos. Tables flipped, and pots flew. Ian continued his meal, as did the elfâs companions, watching the fight with interest. The brawl between two non-human fighters was a captivating spectacle.
Crackâ
But it soon became clear who had the upper hand. Even an elf couldnât outmatch a beastfolk in strength. He was as fast as Charlotte but lacked her power and technique.
Charlotte didnât dodge all his attacks, but she gradually pushed him back.
The elfâs head turned slightly toward Ian as Charlotteâs punch landed. The arrogance and composure were gone from his face. His eyes glowed faintly, a sign he was starting to use magic.
Ianâs intuition sent a small warning right after.
Typical elfâŠ
Ianâs eyes narrowed, understanding the elfâs intention.
At that moment, Charlotte threw another punch. The elf twisted his body, taking the hit on his shoulder, and closed in. In his lowered right hand, a sharp dagger appeared, its blade glowing ominously with magic.
The hand-to-hand combat was never meant to be fair. He intended to land a fatal blow.
The elf thrust the dagger toward Charlotteâs side.
Thunk.
But the dagger did not achieve its purpose.
â...?â Ian had stepped up and firmly grasped the elfâs forearm.
The elf tried to push his arm forward, but realizing he couldnât shake off Ianâs grip, he frowned and turned his head. His previously neat and handsome face was now a mess.
âAre you interrupting a duel?â
Ian swallowed the sausage he was chewing and replied, âI told you, no blades.â
â...?!â
âAnd that includes you.â
The elfâs face twisted in anger as his companions threw their drinks aside and drew their weapons.
âWhat a typical elf behavior.â Charlotte, who had been standing still since Ianâs intervention, spat out a bloody glob and muttered. She then turned her back on the elf and glared at his companions.
The elfâs bloody lips curled into a smirk.
âSo, youâre not just a beastâs plaything. You have some strength, it seems.â
âNot just strength.â
Ian tightened his grip on the elfâs arm. The elfâs frown deepened. He remained in his awkward half-risen position, hesitating to move under Ianâs watchful gaze. The elf glanced at Ianâs left hand, resting on the hilt of his dagger, as Ian continued calmly.
âYou misunderstand something. Weâre not here to look for work in this city. We donât care about your business. And weâre not afraid of your viscount.â
â...!â
âSo, either settle this with words or draw your sword and do it properly. What will it be?â
âYou fool... Do you think you can leave this city unscathed if things escalate?â
âThatâs not your concern. If I were you, Iâd be more worried about your life. Besides, Iâm not afraid of your magic.â
Ianâs voice lowered.
âI already know your elvesâ magic is nothing special.â
âDo you want to test that...?â The elfâs eyes glowed brighter with magic.
As Ian blinked slowly, a faint ripple of energy emanated from his grip.
â...!â The elfâs eyes widened as the magic flickering in his pupils dispersed.
Ian had used a vision skill, Magic Backflow. Normally, it required precise timing, but against an opponent like this elf, who was continuously gathering magic, it was straightforward.
Panting, the elf muttered, âDo you possess a relic or something...?â
âWell, what do you think?â Ian stared down at the elf.
The elf glared back, searching for any trace of magic in Ianâs eyes. But Ianâs eyes remained dark and calm.
The elfâs eyes twitched.
Crashâ
The tavern door burst open, and a knight with a faceplate and a squire in chain mail stepped inside. Charlotteâs opponents flinched and turned to look at them.
â...?â
The two, momentarily stunned by the chaotic scene, finally turned their gaze to Charlotte and Ian.
Mev sighed and placed her hand on her sword hilt, while Philip, frowning, spoke. "Iâm asking because it seems weâre on the verge of bloodshed. Is this really necessary?"
âWell... that depends on this friendâs answerââ
Before Ian could finish, the elf wrenched free from his grip and rolled across the floor. He leaped up and stood on a table in the corner.
âThanks for clearing that up, human.â
The elf, now appearing calm again, slightly tilted his chin. He then looked at Ian, Charlotte, Philip, and finally Mev.
Though he seemed confident, Ian could see he was ready to bolt out the window at any moment. It was a wise choice for survival, as Ian had no way to prevent him from escaping.
Elven knights are no different than like in the game.
Ian smirked, as the elf, having stared at Mev briefly, spoke.
âI am Findrel Aynas, a knight employed by Viscount Calderdale. This conflict stemmed from a minor misunderstanding, but it has been resolved through conversation with this dark-haired man.â
â....â
âTo prevent further escalation, please allow us to leave.â
His tone was confident, but it wasnât very convincing. Besides, the tension between Ian and Charlotte alone was already palpable. With the arrival of Mev and Philip, the balance was completely shattered. The subordinates of Findrel, caught between Mev and Charlotte, looked uneasy. This was especially due to Mev.
Instead of responding, Mev looked toward Ian. Though his face was hidden, Ian could feel the gaze asking what he wanted to do.
âHmm....â
After a moment of thought, Ian nodded, signaling to let them pass. Charlotte frowned, but Mev and Philip obediently stepped aside.
Findrel jumped down from the table and walked past, speaking as he did.
"Youâve made a wise decision. Sir, now that we have met, why donât we introduce ourselves?"
Mev remained silent. Findrel, not waiting for a response, walked across the room and gestured to his companions to follow.
âAlright, then, excuse us.â
Despite his calm tone, Findrel opened the door hurriedly and exited the tavern, followed closely by his companions.
Once the door closed, Philip immediately spoke up.
âCouldnât you wait a moment before getting into another fight?â
Ian shrugged and turned around.
Philip, crossing the chaotic tavern, muttered, âHe seemed like an elven knight. What happenedââ
âHe started it. Typical arrogant elf. I shouldâve just cut off his ears.â Charlotte replied angrily.
While she vented, Ian walked over to the waitress, who was peeking out from beside the kitchen.
Upon meeting his eyes, she gasped, âPlease, spare me, sir...!â
I didnât say a word about killing you.
Ian chuckled and extended his hand to her.
âHere, take this. We wonât need the extra food or rooms, so this should cover the cost of the damage as well.â
âY, yes, sir...?â The waitress blinked, taking the coins in confusion.
Without another word, Ian turned and approached Mev.
âSorry about the trouble as soon as you arrived. We should leave immediately. That guy will be back with a bunch of soldiers soon.â
âSo, weâre just running away?â Charlotte asked, her eyes wide.
Ian frowned. âDo you want to kill the soldiers just to get to him? Then eventually, weâd have to kill the viscount too.â
Charlotte, looking sheepish, nodded. âRight, youâre right. I got too excited.â
Ian shrugged. He didnât bother mentioning that Findrel would likely come to them on his own.
The fairies of the game were as mean and persistent as their pride. Even worse, that one was a knight. Having left with his pride thoroughly wounded, he would surely seek revenge in some way. He would probably return to his manor immediately to gather those who shared his sentiments. He believed there was a relic here, so he wouldnât give up easily.
And that was precisely what Ian wanted. He held back now because they were in the middle of the city, but next time, he wouldnât need such polite conversation.
Thatâs why he didnât bother asking the question he had in mind. Whatever he asked now would only waste time and elicit evasive answers.
In a freer environment, with the help of a dagger, he could coax answers out of that pointy-eared fiendâs mouth like pulling noodles from a pot.
Losing the bath and bed is annoying, though... fuck....
âFate is funny, isnât it?â Philip muttered then.
Philip didnât look disgusted as Ian had expected but instead wore a curious expression as he quickly shouldered their gear. Mev was no different.
âIndeed, it is quite ironic....â Mev said, raising her visor and looking at Ian.
âI was about to suggest leaving the city immediately as well, Ian. For similar reasons.â
âSo, you had some trouble too....â
Seems like I wasnât destined for a bath today. Ian thought, nodding, and gestured toward the door.
âLetâs hear about it on the way.â