Eliss stared at the murky soup as if it were a wild beast daring her to take another bite. Determined not to let the dish defeat her, she dipped the spoon into the oily surface, scooped up a piece of unidentifiable meat swimming in the broth, and raised it to her lips. She hesitated, closing her eyes and muttering, "For the sake of new experiences."
The instant the soup touched her tongue, her gag reflex kicked in. Her face contorted into a grimace as she struggled to suppress the urge to spit it out. Somehow, with sheer determination, she managed to swallow the mouthful. She pushed the bowl away as far as it would go, clutching her stomach as she let out an awkward laugh. "Hehe… want to try some?" she asked, her voice strained but lighthearted.
Amukelo raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look. "I thought you didn't like sharing your meals."
Eliss's laugh grew more awkward. "I just thought you might be interested in the taste."
Amukelo's gaze flattened. "You just want to feed me that disaster because you don't want it."
"What are you talking about?" Eliss said, waving her hand dismissively, her eyes darting away. "Of course it's not the case."
Before Amukelo could retort, Eliss's expression shifted as she noticed an orc approaching their table. Her lighthearted demeanor vanished in an instant. Amukelo followed her gaze and immediately became alert. The orc was large and muscular, his movements deliberate as he strode toward them with a toothy grin.
The orc stopped beside their table, his gaze moving over Eliss with a disturbing mix of amusement and derision. "Look at this," he said, his voice carrying easily over the din of the pub. "What pretty little ladies found themselves in a place they shouldn't."
Amukelo's face hardened, and his hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword. Around them, other orcs began laughing and cheering, clearly entertained by the scene. One orc stepped forward, his expression more neutral. "Come on, leave them alone," he said. "They're not here to trouble anyone."
The first orc smirked, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "How do you know? It's better to take preventative measures." His eyes flicked toward Amukelo.
Amukelo stood slowly, keeping his movements controlled. "Eliss," he said, "let's leave."
Eliss, still seated, looked up at him with a stubborn pout. "But I still have food to eat."
Amukelo shot her a disbelieving look. "You don't even like it," he said through gritted teeth.
The orc laughed, the sound guttural and mocking. "Yeah, that's right," he said. "You're not going anywhere. Listen to your pig."
Eliss froze, her expression shifting from stubbornness to shock. She slowly stood, her eyes locking onto the orc. "What did you call me?" she asked.
The orc leaned forward slightly, a sneer twisting his lips. "I called you a pig," he said, drawing the word out mockingly. "Which is exactly what you are."
Amukelo's hand tightened on her arm, his voice tense. "Eliss. Let's go. Now."
But Eliss didn't move. In a swift motion, she grabbed the bowl of soup and hurled its contents directly at the orc's face. The greasy broth splattered across his features, the chunks of meat clinging to his skin and dripping onto his chest.
The pub fell into a stunned silence, the laughter and chatter halting as every eye turned to the scene. The orc stood frozen for a moment as the soup dripped from his face. Then, slowly, his lips curled back into a furious snarl. His hand clenched into a fist as he roared, "I'll kill you!"
Amukelo immediately stepped between them, drawing his sword halfway from its sheath as he fixed the orc with a steely glare. "If you don't want to die," the orc growled, "let me kill that bitch."
Amukelo exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm. "Come on," he said. "Calm down. Let's forget about this. You'll leave us alone, we'll leave, and we can both move on. Deal?"
The orc's lip curled, and he raised his arm, gesturing to the soup staining his chest and face. "How will you compensate me for this?" he snarled.
Amukelo sighed. "Fine," he said with resignation. "I'll buy you a meal."
The orc considered this, his expression shifting as he mulled over the offer. But before he could respond, Eliss's voice cut through the tense moment. "I'm not paying for anything for that bastard!" she shouted.
The room collectively stiffened. The orc's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he turned his full attention to Eliss. "What did you just call me?" he growled.
Amukelo shot Eliss a glare. "Just shut up and stay quiet," he hissed with frustration. He turned back to the orc. "So, deal?"
The orc's answer came not in words but in a sudden, forceful shove. Amukelo staggered slightly but quickly steadied himself, planting his feet firmly on the ground. The orc's sneer deepened. "Get out," the orc said. "I will not let you leave until she stops breathing."
Amukelo didn't back down. His jaw tightened, and his eyes hardened into a steely glare. "We want to leave," he said evenly. "I won't let you touch her."
The orc laughed and began cracking his knuckles. "You won't let me? You're just a soft human," he said. "Why don't we settle this the way orcs do?"
Before Amukelo could respond, another orc stepped forward. It was the same one who had tried to de-escalate the situation earlier, his tone calm but laced with irritation. "Come on," he said, addressing the angry orc. "Just leave them alone. You're the reason humans hate us. Let them go, and no one has to get hurt. Let's settle this peacefully."
The larger orc turned to him, his grin mocking. "Yeah… peacefully," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Let's resolve it peacefully—with fists."
Amukelo sighed heavily. "Fine," he said. "Whatever. But if I win, you'll leave us alone. No more trouble."
The orc grinned, clearly relishing the challenge. "You can wish, human. Fine. Let's do this."
Amukelo handed his backpack and sword to Eliss, who was about to protest but faltered under his sharp gaze. "You're going to have to explain yourself later," he said flatly.
Eliss opened her mouth, ready to argue, but Amukelo had already turned away, his focus entirely on the orc. His expression shifted to something cold.
The crowd of orcs began to stir, their voices rising with excitement as they moved tables and chairs out of the way to clear the center of the room. Coins exchanged hands quickly as bets were placed. The orc warriors were visibly energized by the prospect of a fight.
Amukelo and the orc stood in the cleared space, facing each other. The orc was grinning broadly, rolling his shoulders and bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.
Amukelo, in stark contrast, stood still. His stance was relaxed, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, but his eyes never left the orc. There was no bravado, no display of confidence—only a quiet intensity that made the crowd's laughter falter for a brief moment.