With an intimidating glare from Mika that could penetrate the soul, the nobles steeled themselves for the impending battle. The beleaguered girl tentatively raised her head from the defensive position she had assumed, her eyes landing upon the figure of her rescuer. Her visage bore the cruel marks of her mistreatment - a bloated countenance, unkempt raven hair adorned with a mutilated white blossom, and garments that were more rags than clothes, tarnished and torn.
Mika's clenched fist audibly ground bone against bone, his stance a silent challenge, a taunt for them to make the first move.
"Well? Are you going to act, or merely bluster?" Mika's derisive sneer echoed in the silent room, his body taut with anticipation for the upcoming skirmish.
"Do not dare to belittle us, you loathsome vermin!" The two aristocrats retaliated, launching a combined offensive of ice and water magic in Mika's direction. However, Mika remained unfazed.
With a swift, lightning-imbued stride forward, Mika ended the battle before it could truly begin, his fist meeting the faces of the aristocrats in rapid succession. He shattered their dentition and crushed their noses, their bodies flying backwards and smashing into the wall, causing cracks to spiderweb across its surface.
The aristocrats had finally reaped their just desserts, and the girl whom they had tormented could only stare in awe. "Th-thank you, sir... You've saved me twice now..." Her gratitude was punctuated by a grimaced smile, her swollen face struggling to hold back tears.
"You're quite the fighter, but it's alright to shed tears. I won't harm you," Mika reassured her, kneeling down to gently pat her head. Her destitution weighed heavily on his heart.
"Where are your parents?" Mika asked, attempting to soothe her with a comforting smile.
"They're gone. I've been alone for two years..." the girl confessed, her voice choked with emotion.
"I see... Well, how about a meat bun?" Mika offered, recalling her earlier loss when her meal was trampled and dirtied.
Her face lit up like the morning sun at the offer. "I would love that!"
Temporarily setting his mission aside, Mika took the girl's small hand in his and led her through the royal town to a meat bun vendor.
"My name is Mika Ozolyne, but you can call me Mika," he introduced himself as they reached their destination. "Get as many as you want. You know what? I'll take five," Mika told the vendor, who quickly handed over a bag filled with piping hot, deliciously aromatic meat buns.
Mika took one for himself and handed the rest to the girl.
The savory pastries boasted a mouthwatering medley of beef and chicken, harmoniously intertwined within their doughy confines, each bite a symphony of flavors. A tantalizing sauce, skillfully balanced between sweet and savory, dwelled within, its complex notes enriching the meaty blend. A subtle hint of black pepper and exotic spices was woven into this gastronomic tapestry, offering a kick that heightened the overall experience.
Encasing this culinary delight was a bun as ethereal as a cloud, its texture an exquisite paradox of resilience and softness, yielding under each satisfying bite. The meat within held a distinct chewiness, a testament to its flawless execution. It carried a smoky aura, its heat potent enough to sear an unwary tongue. A careless encounter could result in a blistering reminder of its fiery temperament. Yet, such was its captivating allure, it was impossible to resist the siren call of another bite.
"These are surprisingly good and quite expensive, 15 Ru'us each... I should get the recipe... Are you enjoying them, uh... I'm sorry, I don't know your name," Mika confessed, scratching his head in embarrassment while eating the delicious meat buns.
"Kimaru Só... You can call me Maru, Mister Mika," Kimaru replied, her face glowing with happiness as she savored the tasty treat.
"Let's stick with 'big brother'. I'm not that old, after all. Speaking of age, how old are you, Maru?" Mika inquired, enjoying the simple pleasure of the meat buns.
"I am nine, what about you?" she inquired.
"I'm nearly sixteen," he responded with a chuckle, "Do I appear so mature that you address me as 'sir'?" Mika mused, somewhat amused by the illusion of age his mere fifteen years gave off.
"Isn't that how purson give respect?" Kimaru queried, munching on her meat bun, uncertain of how to interact with Mika without a formal pretense.
"No need for formality, just be yourself with me," Mika replied, his laughter light and his smile gentle, acknowledging the innocent naïveté of young Kimaru.
As their conversation meandered along, Kimaru guided Mika to her place of residence - a makeshift home constructed from cardboard under a bridge adjacent to a grimy river. From this vantage point, Mika could see the genius of Kimaru's survival instinct; her home cleverly positioned under the bridge to shield her from the harsh elements. Alone in the world, her resilience was nothing short of remarkable.
"We can't stay here, come with me," Mika proposed, extending an invitation to Kimaru.
Without hesitation, Kimaru followed the path Mika laid out before her. Their journey led them to a modest hotel, not luxurious, but still demanding a hefty sum for a single room - 170 Ru'us, an amount Mika found almost offensively steep.
"Living like this is a nightmare. It's appalling how they exploit the vulnerable with such ludicrous prices," Mika commented, aghast at the blatant profiteering.
Once they secured a room, Mika suggested that Kimaru freshen up. Obediently, she accepted his suggestion, stepping into the shower with him. Mika helped her, gently scrubbing away the layers of grime from her hair and skin.
"Ahh, much better. How do you feel?" he asked.
"Wanderful!" Kimaru replied, a smile illuminating her face, now shining with cleanliness.
After they were done, Mika tended to Kimaru's wounds, applying a soothing ointment to her bruised and swollen face. Despite the sting of the ointment, Kimaru remained still, displaying a stoicism beyond her years.
"You're doing great, you'll be healed before you know it. Just promise me you'll rest. I've got ten meat buns here for you. I'll come back as soon as I can, alright?" he assured her.
With a nod and a smile, Kimaru agreed.
Mika after having done caring for Kimaru, he went outside of the hotel. He stroked his chest with his heart feeling heavy after what he had witnessed. As he stretched his body, Mika began to walk back to the Royal town again, putting a stop to the unforgivable Toragol.
Having tended to Kimaru with a gentle but anxious hand, Mika eventually emerged from the confines of the hotel. His chest throbbed painfully, a somber echo of the harrowing sights he'd just witnessed. He uncoiled his tense form, stretching as if to physically shake off the haunting images and reorient himself to the task at hand. With a determined, steel-edged grit, he began his trek back towards the Royal Town, resolute in his mission to bring an end to the unspeakable atrocities committed by Toragol.
As the hours passed in a grim, relentless march, Mika finally arrived.
"Sorry I'm late," he said to Sougo, who was nonchalantly leaning against the wall with his arms folded in a relaxed but ready stance. "I was busy. Any info?"
"The party was tainted by inhumane acts." Sougo replied, his voice hardened by anger and disgust. "From the latest news I heard, it seems they are now executing any whoever dared to disobey or rebel." He gestured in the direction of the execution grounds, where the condemned were lined up, their silent sobs muffled by the sacks obscuring their faces.
The sight was stomach-churning, but Sougo steeled himself against the revulsion. These people, these monsters, were an evil he was all too familiar with. A bitter annoyance stirred within him as he recognized the same cruel, sadistic smiles that had once marred the faces of his own kind back in his homeland.
"Let this be a reminder to you all, monkeys!" Toragol sneered, his voice echoing ominously over the gathered crowd. "Disobedience and rebellion against our rule will not be tolerated. Remember this moment, etch it into your minds. Let the executions begins!"
The executioner, unflinching, grasped the handle of his axe, poised for the gruesome task ahead.
The first condemned man was secured, his head locked in place. The axe was raised high, the sharp gleam of its edge a grim harbinger of the fate to come. A moment later, the air was filled with the choking stench of blood as the man's pleas fell on deaf ears and his severed head rolled gruesomely down the execution grounds.
Once again, Mika bore witness to a horrific scene. The man had only fought for his rights, and this was his unmerited reward. Mika's breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as he grappled with the brutal reality unfolding before him. Sougo, though his face was an impassive mask of stoicism, felt a deep and silent sympathy for the executed man.
They both couldn't help but to watch in order to make the mission flawless.