It was a typical morning in the bustling city of the central region. Merchants opened their stalls, filling the air with the scent of fresh bread, ripe fruits, and an assortment of spices from far-off lands. Children ran through the streets, their laughter echoing through the cobbled roads as they weaved between carts and horses.
In the central square, a group of adventurers gathered, discussing their assignments. Some were hardened by years of battles, while others were fresh recruits, their excitement palpable as they clutched their first guild seals.
"Another goblin raid, huh?" one seasoned adventurer grumbled as he adjusted the heavy armor on his shoulders. "I swear, they breed faster than rabbits."
His younger companion, barely out of his teens, nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, but it's good practice! I'm just excited to be doing real work."
The older adventurer snorted. "Real work? Kid, wait until you're gutting a goblin for the hundredth time. Then come tell me how exciting it is."
They laughed together, unaware of the darker undercurrents swirling through the city. Amidst the mundane routines, tensions were brewing, tensions that would soon come to a head.
...
Over on the outskirts of the market square, two girls giggled as they admired the colorful fabrics draped over a nearby stall. Their joy, however, was cut short when a brute of an adventurer, towering and broad-shouldered, approached them. His eyes gleamed with ill intent, and a smirk twisted his lips.
"Hey there, girls," he called out, swaggering toward them with a couple of equally unsavory-looking companions trailing behind. "Why don't you come and have some fun with us, eh? I promise we'll show you a good time."
The girls exchanged a nervous glance and tried to step back, shaking their heads politely. "No, thank you," one of them said, her voice strained. "We're just looking around."
The brute's smirk faltered, his expression darkening. "No?" he echoed, his hand shooting out to grab one of the girls by the arm. "That's not how this works. You don't just say no."
Her friend tried to pull her away, but the brute tightened his grip, causing the girl to wince in pain.
"Hey! Let go of her!" a new voice cut through the tension. A group of young adventurers, clearly new to the trade, approached. Their leader, a boy who couldn't have been much older than sixteen, stood tall despite the clear difference in experience.
The brute turned, eyes narrowing at the newcomers. "And who the hell are you?" he growled.
"We're adventurers, like you," the boy said firmly, though his voice wavered slightly. "And we're not going to let you hurt them."
The brute laughed, a deep, mocking sound that sent chills through the onlookers. "You? Stop me? This'll be fun."
The tension snapped, and the older adventurers drew their weapons. The young adventurers, armed with determination but lacking skill, stood their ground, though their inexperience was obvious.
The brute swung first, his massive sword crashing down toward the young leader. He barely dodged in time, rolling to the side as the blade hit the ground with a loud clang.
The fight erupted. Steel clashed against steel, the sound of battle filling the air as the older adventurers toyed with their younger opponents. The brute's companions joined in, sneering and jeering as they easily overpowered the inexperienced adventurers.
The young adventurers fought back with all they had, but it was clear they were outmatched. The brute delivered crushing blows, knocking one of the younger boys to the ground with a powerful swing of his fist. Another fell after a swift kick to the stomach, doubling over as the brute's companions closed in.
The crowd gathered around, horrified but powerless to intervene. The girls, who had been the cause of the scuffle, could only watch in terror as the fight played out before them.
The brute adventurer scoffed, looking down on the young adventurer. "Hah, come on man. Where's that bravado Hulu had a moment ago?" His voice laced with condescension, kicking the young adventurer in the head, a faint crack beneath the boy's head formed.
Amidst the chaos, a new figure appeared. A boy, no older than eleven, approached the brawl with calm, steady steps. He was dressed casually, though there was something about the way he carried himself that hinted at more.
"Enough," he said, his voice cutting through the noise.
The brute turned, his sword raised high. "Oh? And just who are you supposed to be?" he sneered, eyeing the boy with disdain.
"I'm asking you to stop," the boy replied evenly, his gaze unwavering. "This is House Lavelle's region. You should know better than to cause trouble here."
The brute's expression darkened. "You've got guts, kid. But you should know not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong."
One of the older adventurers furrowed his brow, staring at the boy with recognition. "Wait, isn't that—"
"Shut up," the brute snapped, stepping closer to the boy. He drew his sword, pointing the tip directly at the boy's throat. "You wanna play hero? Let's see how brave you are when your blood's spilling on the ground."
The boy didn't flinch, his expression unreadable. "Last warning," he said calmly. "Think this through."
"Arrogant little—" The brute swung his sword.
But the boy was already moving. He ducked under the brute's wide arc, his speed catching the older adventurers off guard. In the blink of an eye, he jabbed the brute in the ribs, causing him to stumble back.
"Boss!" One of the older adventurer's roared.
The brute's companions surged forward, joining the fray. Swords and axes flashed as they attacked the boy, but he dodged each blow with precision, his movements fluid and controlled. It was clear he was far more skilled than his young age suggested.
The brute swung again, faster this time, but the boy sidestepped easily, delivering quick, precise strikes to the brute's weak points. He jabbed at the man's exposed joints and pressure points, causing him to stagger in pain.
"How is he…?" one of the young adventurers gasped, watching in awe as the boy evaded every attack.
The fight intensified as the older adventurers grew angrier, realizing they were being outclassed by someone so much younger. Their pride wounded, they unleashed their mana, enhancing their strength and speed.
But the boy didn't seem concerned. He didn't even bother to use mana, relying solely on his natural speed and reflexes to dodge their attacks.
One of the brute's companions lunged at the boy with a dagger, but in a swift motion, the boy disarmed him, grabbing the short sword holstered by the man's waistband in the process. He tested its weight briefly before nodding to himself. "Not my weapon of choice," he muttered, "but this will do."
The remaining adventurers, now desperate, charged him in unison. The boy parried their attacks with ease, his movements almost effortless. His new weapon danced through the air, striking at vital spots with precision.
Two more of the older adventurers fell, their weapons clattering to the ground as they groaned in pain. The brute, seeing his companions fall, gritted his teeth and charged one final time.
The boy, however, finally decided to use a fraction of his mana, enhancing just his arm. With a single, swift motion, he disarmed the brute, sending his sword clattering to the ground.
The brute stumbled back, his face pale with fear. "Who… who are you?" he stammered.
The boy sighed faintly, his expression showing disappointment. "Use your head next time."
....
The crowd, which had been silent during the fight, erupted into cheers. The new adventurers, who had been beaten earlier, stared at the boy in awe. They couldn't believe what they had just witnessed.
One of the onlookers squinted their eyes at the boy their expression showing signs of recognition. His hair was snow white with black highlights, and his reddish-orange eyes gleamed with an unusual intensity.
"Isn't that… Eryk Lavelle?" one of the onlookers whispered.
The name spread through the crowd like wildfire. "That's him," another murmured. "The young noble of House Lavelle!"
The brute and his companions, realizing who they had just fought, scrambled to their feet and fled, leaving behind their fallen comrades.
Eryk stood calmly in the center of the street, his casual demeanor betraying the immense skill he had just displayed.
He sighed, looking up at the azure blue sky. "I need a drink."