Lyrian was slightly taken aback, as the leather armor-wearing man leaped away from him.
Without hesitation, he sprinted out of the tavern, shoulder slamming his way through the door and undoing a few hinges in his exit.
"Tsk! What the hell was that for!? Stupid bastard." The bartender exclaimed
, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
'What in the hell was that? Why did it feel so powerful? So dangerous?' Lyrian looked at the open door, as did everyone else--with slight surprise and awe.
He then turned his attention back to the fat man in front of him.
At that moment, a few drops suddenly fell from the man's pants--creating a small puddle on the ground.
As the fat man followed Lyrian's eyes, the boy looked down at the puddle, and then back at the fat man with a disgusted expression.
"Are you serious!?" The bartender screamed, seeing the puddle on the ground. "You better clean that!"
