Alaric stood in the middle of the dusty road, casually holding his staff. His posture was upright, yet his expression remained calm, even a bit cheerful. Dozens of bandits wielding various weapons began to surround him from all sides. They looked angry and ready to attack, but Alaric merely surveyed the scene with serene composure, as if he was savoring the moment.
Among the bandits, a large man with a muscular build and a scarred face stepped forward. He appeared more confident than the others. "I am Gusop!" the man bellowed loudly, making sure everyone heard him. "You must all know, my strength is equal to that of Rundolf, the strongest knight in the Kingdom of Gama!" He pounded his chest with pride, hoping to intimidate his opponent.
Alaric listened to Gusop's words with a look of interest. A faint but wicked smile spread across his face. "Oh, really? Someone who equals Rundolf, the strongest knight in Gama?" he said, his tone mocking. "Perhaps this time I'll face a serious challenge," he thought to himself, adjusting his hair that was slightly tousled by the wind.
"I'm Alaric Iceborn," replied a calm voice instantly, cutting through Gusop's arrogance.
Provoked by Alaric's mocking tone, Gusop immediately raised his sword high, then with a thunderous war cry, he leaped towards Alaric. The sword gleamed under the sunlight, moving with a speed that should have frightened any foe. But Alaric stood his ground, waiting until the sword was almost upon him.
At the very last moment, Alaric moved with incredible speed. He deftly dodged Gusop's swing, causing the large man to lose his balance. With a swift motion, Alaric struck Gusop's arm with his staff. The blow seemed light, yet it was enough to disarm Gusop and send his sword flying far to the side.
Gusop was stunned. He tried to attack again, this time with his fists, but Alaric easily evaded each punch. Every time Gusop attempted to strike, Alaric would dodge with almost imperceptible movements, occasionally delivering light taps with his staff to various parts of Gusop's body. Those taps seemed insignificant, but each one inflicted excruciating pain on Gusop. Finally, with one last strike to his back, Gusop collapsed to the ground, unable to stand.
Alaric looked down at him with a disappointed expression. "Is this all?" he said coldly. "You claimed your strength was equal to Rundolf, the strongest knight in Gama? I expected more. You're nothing but a false hope, Mister Gusop." Gusop, humiliated, tried to rise, but his body trembled uncontrollably.
With tears welling up in his eyes, Gusop turned and ran as fast as he could, fleeing the scene. He ran in fear, eventually crying and wetting himself in terror. Alaric just sighed and let the poor man escape. "Ah, no use chasing him," he thought with a small grin.
After Gusop fled, Alaric turned his attention back to the other bandits. He effortlessly defeated them one by one. Each of Alaric's movements was precise and deadly, causing the bandits to fall one after another without being able to mount any meaningful resistance. In no time, all the bandits were either unconscious on the ground or fleeing in terror.
After the battle ended, an old man with a wrinkled face and disheveled white hair emerged from one of the ruined houses. He was the village chief of Leronica. The old man immediately approached Zanuba, who was still lying on the ground. With a trembling voice full of regret, he said, "Princess, are you all right? Forgive us, we couldn't protect you."
Hearing those words, Alaric was shocked. He looked at Zanuba with a confused expression. "Zanuba, you're a princess?" he asked. Zanuba, who was beginning to rise from the ground with the help of the village chief, nodded slowly. Her eyes still showed fear, but she tried to remain strong.
The village chief then turned to Alaric and bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Lord Elf, for saving the Princess. We owe you our lives."
Alaric merely gave a brief nod, not particularly concerned with the praise. "No problem," he replied casually. "I just happened to be passing through."
The village chief then invited Alaric and Zanuba to a safer place. "Come, Princess, Lord Elf, let's go to the old church at the edge of the village. It's safer there."
Alaric followed the village chief and Zanuba towards the old church. Along the way, his thoughts briefly drifted to the renowned Leronica beer. "Maybe there's still some good beer around here," he mused. But he was too proud to ask directly. He just hoped in his heart that there might be some beer left at their safe haven.
Upon reaching the old church, Alaric saw dozens of people gathered there. They were all villagers who had survived the bandit attack. Their faces were full of anxiety, but when they saw Zanuba and Alaric arrive, a glimmer of hope began to grow in their eyes. Alaric, with a faint smile still on his face, could only hope that after all this chaos, he might still enjoy a quiet evening with a glass of beer.
***
Alaric stared at the empty mug in his hand with a look of deep disappointment. His hope of enjoying a cold glass of Leronica beer vanished when he heard that all the beer had been taken by the bandit leader. In the corner of the old church, among the villagers still trembling in fear, Alaric looked like a child who had just lost his favorite toy. Sighing deeply, he muttered, "That delicious Leronica beer... all gone... like a dream that disappeared just like that."
Zanuba, sitting not far from Alaric, bowed her head in silence. Her usually vibrant green eyes were now dull. She just sat there, contemplating her fate, without a word escaping her lips. Alaric, noticing the young girl out of the corner of his eye, felt a twinge of guilt. Not because he had dragged her into this mess, but more because the girl had no beer to drink with him.
The village chief, after ensuring the church's security, began to recount Zanuba's tragic story with a tone of deep sadness. He explained how Zanuba, the rightful princess of the Kingdom of Gama, lost her throne to her half-brother, Reeve Dame Guillemete, who had mixed blood and great ambition. "Her brother," the village chief said sharply, "planned every possible way to ensure the throne wouldn't fall into Zanuba's hands. Even if it meant killing his own sister."
Alaric half-listened, most of his mind still preoccupied with imagining what it would be like to drink the famous Leronica beer. Occasionally he nodded, trying to appear as though he was paying full attention to the village chief's story. But his thoughts were far away, imagining the fresh flow of beer from large barrels.
When the village chief finally finished his tale with a note of reverence, Alaric was silent for a moment. His face displayed a serious expression that was clearly forced. "Is there really no beer left?" he suddenly asked, his voice sounding so earnest but with a tone that didn't match the seriousness of the situation.
The village chief looked a bit confused by the question. "There's no beer left in this village... But there might still be some with Tigera, the bandit leader. He took all the beer barrels from our village."
Hearing those words, Alaric instantly changed. As if a new spirit had filled him, he stood up with determination, raising his magic staff high into the air. "Alright!" he shouted with a tone of exaggerated bravery. "I will finish off that Tigera so he won't come back to attack this village again!!!"
The villagers stared at him in awe, though some couldn't help but furrow their brows at his words. Alaric's spirit seemed so grand, as if he was about to march into battle against an entire army of demons just to save this unfortunate village. But in his heart, he had only one goal: to reclaim the beer that Tigera had taken.
Zanuba, who had been sitting quietly, finally stood and approached Alaric. "Lord Elf," she said softly yet firmly, "may I join you? I also want to save Harith, my guard, who might still be alive."
Alaric turned to her, his eyes widening slightly. Before he could respond, the village chief hurriedly held Zanuba back, looking at her with deep concern. "Princess, it's too dangerous! Let Lord Elf handle them. You've suffered enough."
But before the village chief could continue, Alaric quickly interrupted, "It's fine, let her come along." He said with a more reassuring tone, trying to look like a great hero who would protect the princess from all harm. "I will protect her," he added with a confident smile. Then, suddenly, he shouted, "LET'S GO, ZANUBA! Let's defeat those bastards for taking this village's beer, I mean, for destroying this village!"
The villagers fell silent, staring at Alaric with puzzled expressions. Some began to wonder if their hero was really sane. But Zanuba, though slightly hesitant, nodded and followed Alaric out of the church. She didn't know what was really on Alaric's mind, but his confidence gave her a little sense of security.
As they stepped out of the church, Alaric stretched out his arms as if preparing to face a horde of enemies. In his heart, he cheered, "Oh, the beer must be so good! I have to get that beer, no matter what!" But on the outside, he tried to maintain a serious face, though it looked a bit ridiculous. Zanuba looked at Alaric with a mix of admiration and confusion. She wasn't entirely sure if Alaric was truly a great hero or just a strange elf with an intense love for beer.
However, regardless of the truth, they were now walking together toward the bandits' hideout. Alaric, with a fiery determination (though more for the beer than for saving the village), and Zanuba, with the hope of rescuing her loyal guard. They didn't know what awaited them, but one thing was certain: this journey would be very interesting. And who knows? Maybe, after all this was over, Alaric would finally get the glass of beer he had longed for.