C511 Extreme
George knew his place in the political environment. His family was good, but Francis, Monica, and many classmates were beyond his reach. Even Anita was an incredible step-up compared to his usual women.
However, the situation didn't involve politics, at least not strictly. Francis wasn't a student in the Harbor. Technically, he had no right to be in the second district, especially if he intended to harass the people living there. His family's influence could give him some leeway, and eventual secret pacts helped even further, but that deal didn't apply to his guards.
George didn't initially plan to intervene, and Monica didn't need help there. No matter what Francis said, he couldn't force her to leave. Monica had to accept on her own, which wasn't easy when she took pride in acts that would usually bring shame to her figure.
Still, the conversation had been too funny, and George couldn't hold back from joining it. Besides, he had been bored for quite a while already, and Francis had given him the perfect opportunity to blow off some steam.
Francis' guards encircled him to create a defensive line that could shield him from any threat. Only the man who had initially moved didn't join that arrangement and stood on the path between George and Francis.
George smirked at that scene before taking another sip from the bottle, but Monica interrupted his drink by approaching him.
"What are you doing?" Monica scolded. "I can't protect you if you act like this."
George wanted to voice a witty remark, but noticing Monica's genuine concern forced him to take her words seriously. She would hate involving George in her problems, and he could see that feeling on her face.
"No wonder he couldn't stay away from you," George commented. "Even I would falter in front of a face like this."
"What?" Monica gasped, taking a step back. For a second, she thought George was hitting on her, but he used that chance to cross her and voice a loud laugh.
"George!" Monica called, almost losing her cool in front of that childish action.
"You and Khan worry too much," George chuckled without bothering to turn. "Besides, I'm not doing this for you two."
Monica was conflicted. On one side, George's interference worked in her favor since it would keep Francis focused on him. Yet, George was a friend she had long since started to appreciate, and his close relationship with Khan made the event harder to ignore.
"Francis," Monica called after making up her mind. That was her problem, and she would handle it before anyone got hurt. However, an item flew toward her, and her arms instinctively shot forward when she realized what it was.
"Nice catch!" George laughed, peeking past his shoulder to confirm that the bottle was safe in Monica's hands. Her eyes carried pure irritation, but he felt satisfied for having stopped her advance.
"So," George announced once he got close to the guard outside the defensive encirclement. "Do you have something to say?"
The man frowned and remained silent. He didn't know what George had in mind, but his position wasn't ideal. The soldier didn't personally show any hostility, but Francis' stance wasn't friendly, so it would be easy to misunderstand his actions.
"Well?" George pressed on. "You entered the second district uninvited and started disrespecting its residents. The least you could do is apologize."
George used his arrogant voice on purpose but addressed only the guards. His earlier statement had already been too much against someone with Francis' status. Now, he could only respond to blatant provocations or focus on people with poor relevance.
"Mister Alstair and Miss Solodrey agreed to the meeting willingly," The guard responded.
"You forgot a sir," George chuckled before looking at the defensive encirclement. "What is happening there? I didn't know glasses could be so dangerous."
The guards didn't like that not-so-veiled insult, and Francis wasn't any better. George was mocking that extreme response, which was fitting, and Francis couldn't accept losing face in front of Monica.
"I will not accept this behavior any longer," Francis scoffed. "Seize him. We'll see how arrogant he is once I report this to Headmistress Holwen and his family."
The guard outside the defensive encirclement glanced at Francis and exchanged a nod with him before turning toward George. However, a dark-silver light suddenly flashed in his view, and pain followed.
George looked disappointed when the guard glanced at his chest and panicked at the long mark that crossed his entire torso. The man gasped and jumped back, but the action opened the injury, which spurted blood and made him lose his balance.
The guard fell and opened his suit to check his state. A long, oblique injury had appeared, and blood continued to flow from it. The wound wasn't too deep, but the scene remained scary.
"Just take a deep breath," George sighed. "You'll live."
"What is the meaning of this?!" Francis shouted as soon as he realized what had happened.
"I barely touched him," George said, spreading his arms to express innocence. "I only used one finger."
The situation immediately degenerated. The guards couldn't believe that George had actually used deadly force in the Harbor, so they tightened their defensive encirclement on Francis.
Francis was as stunned as his guards and felt unable to think straight. None of that was part of his plan. He only wanted to convince or coerce Monica into following him to let their families deal with the situation, but George had ruined everything.
As for Monica, she shared that surprise, but the sight of blood didn't stun her. She was worried about George but also accepted that the situation had escaped her control.
"What?" George asked. "There should be a few regulations in my favor. How can you look so surprised?"
Francis had to focus on George. Truth be told, George was technically correct, but that reaction remained extreme. Moreover, letting a descendant from a superior family do as he wished was the norm, but George completely ignored those customs.
"Sir, you should go back to the car," One of the guards said during that stalemate. "It isn't safe here."
Francis was about to nod, but a distant pair of eyes suddenly appeared in the corner of his vision. Someone from the next block had peeked past their building to inspect the scene, and that was only the initial example of that trend.
Heads and eyes began to pop from every distant corner, and a few people even came out in the open to approach the building. The second district had relatively important residents, and some didn't care about Francis' status enough to stay away.
That wasn't the end of it. Flying cabs also approached the area and stopped above the buildings around the block. They simply hovered there without ever descending, but that was enough to give Francis an idea of the attention he had attracted.
Moreover, the surrounding buildings had useful functions. Anyone could spy the scene from behind the large windows without getting spotted. The people in the open were probably the minority of the actual audience, and Francis understood that very well.
Francis was in a pickle. He had initially hoped to get the invitation done within a matter of minutes, but things had gone way past that. One of his guards was also injured, which made returning home empty-handed too troublesome. If he failed so badly, he would become a laughing stock inside his family.
"I'm a descendant of the Alstair family," Francis eventually cursed to the guard that had spoken. "I won't be sent away by such a despicable character!"
"But, sir-," One of the guards uttered.
"Francis, just leave," Monica stated, interrupting the guard. "Let's do this another time and through the proper channels. Also, don't forget to invite my fiancé."
The word "fiancé" made Francis' group open their mouths in shock. Even George turned to show his surprise, but Monica faked a panicked gasp and promptly corrected herself.
"I meant boyfriend," Monica voiced. "I apologize. I got carried away. Still, you will invite him if you think I deserve your respect."
"I don't think this one has the stones to show his face again," George commented, knowing what his words would trigger.
"I had enough of you!" Francis shouted at George.
"I was talking to that man," George feigned ignorance, pointing at a random man among the defensive encirclement. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."
No one believed George, but seeing a faint giggle from Monica made Francis lose his cool and shout again. "Seize this man! I want to bring him in front of the Headmistress now!"
The guards couldn't reject a direct order, but leaving Francis alone wasn't an option either. The five in the encirclement exchanged glances before two abandoned Francis and reached for their injured companion.
It turned out that George had spoken the truth. The guard's injury wasn't deep. A single night could be enough to close it completely. Yet, he was in no condition to fight, so the two soldiers left him be to turn toward George.
George didn't have Khan's inhumane senses, but his sensitivity was far from bad. He had long since surpassed what ordinary humans could see, so he had no problem evaluating his opponents.
The injured guard was a second-level warrior, and the same went for two inside the encirclement. Instead, Francis and the remaining soldiers were on the third level, just like him.
George couldn't help but smile at that development. He didn't lie to Khan. He didn't want to return to the battlefield. Yet, boredom had accumulated after spending years in safe environments, and his occasional sparring sessions couldn't appease his fighting drive.
"I thought you would never come," George snickered, placing his left palm on two stretched fingers before lifting it to create a dark-silver sword.
The two guards shot cold glances at the ethereal sword. Their orders were to restrain George, but he had put a deadly weapon against them. Moreover, the soldiers couldn't badly hurt George. Francis had given his directives, but George remained a famous descendant in the advanced classes.
"What?" George didn't waste the chance to insult his opponents some more. "Are the members of the Alstair family scared of a single man?"
"Get him already!" Francis shouted, and the two guards felt forced to shoot forward.
George waited calmly as the two middle-aged men ran toward him. His opponents split to approach him from opposite sides and wore offensive stances once they got close enough.
The man on the left opened his hands and leaped forward, bringing his right arm to his waist. Meanwhile, the other guard let his knees reach the floor to slide toward George before rotating on himself to launch a rising kick.
The kick was the fastest of the attacks, so George prepared himself to swing his blade at it. However, a dangerously high amount of mana gathered on his left, forcing him to jump backward.
The guard on the left stretched his right arm forward, and a wave of mana came out of his palm before he could land. The attack was dense enough to stop at George's previous position without stretching toward the other enemy, who could exploit that sudden retreat.
The sliding guard let his leg rise and lift his entire body. He performed a handstand before throwing two descending kicks at the retreating George.
George didn't let that sudden attack surprise him. He swung his sword at the incoming kicks, ready to endure both if necessary. His recklessness forced the guard to hesitate, but that worked against him.
The guard interrupted his descending kicks and folded his legs. Yet, his action had been too slow, so the dark-silver sword hit his left shinbone, almost cutting his limb in half.
George stomped his left foot behind him to interrupt his retreat and lunge forward, but the second guard landed in the meantime. The latter didn't hesitate to unleash his left palm, which engulfed George into a trembling wave of mana.
The tremors destabilized George's insides, and his control over his sword also wavered. However, his eyes remained open and fixed on the injured guard. The latter was still standing on his hands, so he couldn't retreat too quickly, and George wanted to exploit that.
George brute-forced his way through the shaking mana, uncaring that his sword shattered in the process. The injured guard was close, so George only needed to take a step forward to reach him, and his swordless fingers descended toward him.
The injured guard prioritized protecting his legs, so he bent backward. However, that gesture exposed his waist, and George didn't hesitate to slam his fingers at the most sensitive spot in his reach.
A painful cry resounded on the sidewalk when George's fingers stabbed the man's groin. His handstand immediately broke, and he crashed on the floor to hold his injured jewels.
The attack had left George exposed, and the second guard didn't hesitate to strike. Still, after seeing George's deadly attacks, the man put more mana than necessary into his blow, resulting in a low sound.
George tightened his left arm on his side, but his eyes widened in surprise when the guard's palm hit his elbow. The low sound and his senses warned him about the imminent danger, so he jumped to his right to avoid part of the attack.
Nevertheless, George lost his balance after landing. The guard's mana had crossed his elbow to enter his side, messing up with his insides. His left leg suddenly wasn't as responsive anymore, and blood started to accumulate in his mouth.
The guard chased after George and leaped again when he was about to reach him. Meanwhile, George recreated his sword and pointed it at his incoming assailant.
The man had to release his palm strike mid-air, sending dense mana forward to destabilize the ethereal blade. The sword shattered, but George closed his hand into a fist that welcomed the guard's landing.
The simple punch couldn't take the guard down, even when hitting him on the nose. The man retreated as blood flowed from his nostrils, but his offensive stance returned. He was still full of energy and at the peak of his game, and the same couldn't be said for George.
George struggled to get rid of the effects of the palm strike. He spat to empty his mouth of some blood, but more surged through his throat. He wasn't fine, and his left side didn't follow his instructions. He could only summon his sword and wait for his opponent's offensive.
The guard knew that the situation was in his favor and didn't bother to hide his intentions. He pointed his eyes at George's left side, almost telling him where he would attack.
George would understand the guard's plan even without that obvious hint. Only an idiot would attack the side with the sword, and the man had to know how much damage he had done. However, George ended up frowning and relaxing due to an unexpected development.
The guard was about to shoot forward when a tight grip closed itself around his right wrist. He turned, and his eyes widened in fear when he saw a smiling Monica keeping his arm still. She was wearing her usual elegant expression, but clear coldness reeked out of her.
"Miss Solodrey!" The guard muttered.
"What do you think you are doing?" Monica asked as her grip grew tighter.
"M-Mister Alstair-," The guard stammered.
"I heard what he said," Monica interrupted, "But you know who I am, and you still decided to attack my friend without asking my permission."
"Miss Solodrey, I didn't-," The guard tried to justify his actions, but fear filled his face when he saw grey smoke coming out of Monica's grip.
"If your next words have nothing to do with an apology," Monica interrupted again, "I will take your hand."
The guard froze in fear. He would typically ask for Francis' opinion before pursuing any action, but Monica seemed ready to cut off his hand as soon as he moved.
"I should warn you," Monica continued. "Silence will lead to the same outcome."
The guard opened his mouth to hurry with his apology, but a series of short noises suddenly echoed on the sidewalk. Monica, the guard, George, and Francis' group turned toward their source but only found a couple of crutches lying on the floor.
That confusion didn't last long. A suffocating coldness followed. The entire sidewalk seemed to have fallen underwater due to how hard breathing became, but nothing stood still. The very air shook under that tension as if everything was about to explode.
To be continued