Under the gaze of everyone in the bakery, an armored knight from the Barton Kingdom strode in coldly and declared,
"Your business seems to be doing well. From now on, you'll pay double the tax every month!"
Hearing this, the previously cheerful shopkeeper turned pale, his entire body beginning to tremble as if he'd been plunged into ice.
"S-sir, doubling the tax would ruin me! I couldn't afford that even if I sold my shop. I'm already doing everything I can just to pay taxes on time. Please, have mercy!" His voice wavered, nearly in tears.
The knight responded with a sneer, slapping him across the face, leaving red finger marks on his cheek.
"Nonsense! How you pay the tax isn't my concern—just hand over the gold coins, now!"
The blow sent the shopkeeper stumbling back several steps, and the black-faced assistant quickly stepped forward to support him, a hint of repressed anger flashing in her bright eyes.
Clutching his bruised face, the shopkeeper stood there helplessly.
Seeing his hesitation, the Barton Kingdom knight's expression turned cold. He stormed over and began kicking and punching the man, shouting,
"You old fool, what are you dawdling for? Hand over the money!"
Covered in bruises and bleeding from his injuries, the shopkeeper let out muffled cries of pain.
Many customers in the store watched with dark expressions, but, mindful of Barton Kingdom's brutal control and the troops stationed in the city, they could only grit their teeth and leave.
In Ironblood City, anyone who dared lay a hand on someone from Barton Kingdom faced execution and the obliteration of their entire family.
"Don't hurt my father!"
Seeing her father battered and bleeding, his breathing growing weaker, the black-faced assistant couldn't hold back any longer. She screamed, her tear-filled eyes fixed furiously on the Barton knight.
"A woman's voice?!"
The Barton knight paused in surprise, grabbing the assistant's wrist and roughly tearing at her clothing.
Rip!
The sound of fabric tearing filled the air, exposing her pale skin beneath her rough attire.
"Well, who would have guessed? This black-faced helper is actually a beauty!" The Barton knight laughed, yanking her into his arms and continuing to tear at her clothes despite her desperate struggles.
"The more you resist, the more I like it!"
As he was about to rip off her remaining clothing, he glanced around at the disturbed onlookers in the shop,
"What? You think you can lay a finger on me? I am a knight of Barton Kingdom!"
"If anyone dares, come forward!"
Seeing the crowd's anger suppressed, the Barton knight burst into laughter.
"Since you're all cowards, go ahead and watch! See what I'm capable of!"
Just then, the bloodied shopkeeper, his face twisted in pain, weakly raised his hand and pleaded,
"Sir… I'll pay, I'll pay… cough…"
Before he could finish, the Barton knight stomped on his chest.
"All this time, you've been hiding girls like this from me! How dare you lie to your superiors!"
Blood gushed from the shopkeeper's mouth as his face turned deathly pale, his life fading.
"Father!"
With her father dead, the assistant's eyes filled with rage as she pounded her fists and feet against the knight's armor.
Even as her hands became bloodied, she continued in a frenzy, unable to stop.
Carter, who had been watching in fury, was about to step forward when his father, Harris, stopped him.
"We're on our way to the capital—don't make unnecessary trouble."
Carter frowned, about to protest, when he noticed Alan coldly striding toward the Barton knight.
The previously silent onlookers all focused on him. Even Annie and the others accompanying Alan wore complicated expressions.
"Still acting on impulse," Annie muttered. "That girl is low-born; is there really a point to helping her? If he angers Barton Kingdom, Ironblood City will face ruin. He's not thinking about the bigger picture at all."
As she spoke, the Barton knight glared menacingly at the approaching Alan, like a ferocious beast ready for blood.
"What do you want?!" he shouted, trying to stop Alan in his tracks.
"This is Plantagenet Kingdom, not your Barton Kingdom! You don't get to do as you please here!" Alan replied, his words punctuated by a punch that landed squarely on the knight's face, sending him flying back and crashing to the ground.
Boom!
With a thunderous impact, the knight left a crater in the ground, his face covered in blood, burning with pain as though it were being cut by knives.
The assistant, who had been filled with despair just moments before, stared blankly at Alan.
She had thought her father was dead and that she would meet a similarly grim fate.
Such tragedies happened daily in Ironblood City. Yet now, she seemed to have found a savior.
"Argh! I'll kill you!"
The knight, screaming in pain, staggered to his feet and charged at Alan like a ravenous wolf.
The other customers in the store backed away in fear, but Alan stood firm, meeting the knight's attack with a kick to his stomach, slamming him against the wall, embedding him in the stone, and forcing out a spurt of blood.
Though disappointed in his kingdom's weakness, Alan couldn't allow someone from another kingdom to oppress them on his homeland.
Embedded in the wall, the knight felt his bones shatter with each movement, the pain scorching his body. Trembling with fury and fear, he stammered,
"You… You'll regret this!"
"Barton Kingdom's army will arrive soon!"
As he spat blood, his venomous glare showed his wish to tear Alan apart.
Just as Alan was about to strike again, a booming voice echoed,
"Stop!"
A middle-aged man in the garb of the Lord of Ironblood stormed into the store, glaring at Alan and shouting,
"Who the hell are you? Who gave you permission to attack a Barton Kingdom knight? Have you no regard for the rules?"
Alan pulled out the leaflet of rules from his pocket, ripped it into shreds, and tossed it into the air like falling snow. He then looked at the Lord and asked,
"What rules? Is this Ironblood City part of Plantagenet Kingdom or Barton Kingdom?"
"Are we citizens of Plantagenet Kingdom, or are we subjects of Barton Kingdom?"
Alan's stern questioning turned the Lord's face from pale to flushed.
Among the onlookers, Plantagenet citizens began to feel a sense of exhilaration.
"Barton Kingdom, get out!"
A familiar voice rang out in the crowd, rallying others, and soon, the citizens raised their fists, shouting in unison.
"Silence!" The Lord of Ironblood glared at the crowd, then turned his gaze back to Alan.
"Apologize to the Barton knight immediately! If peace between our two nations is broken, you'll bear that burden!"
Alan returned his gaze, unflinching.
"If peace can only be maintained by humiliation, then that peace isn't worth it! No kingdom has ever thrived by being harsh on its own people and weak toward outsiders!"
"Alan is right!"
The same voice shouted from the crowd again, followed by others:
"Alan is right!"
"We'd rather fight than submit!"
The citizens roared, their long-suppressed spirit flaring up as if they'd been waiting for someone to lead the way.
The Lord of Ironblood's expression darkened. Just as he was about to speak, the assistant, her torn clothes exposing her battered body, grabbed a nearby bread knife and plunged it into the neck of the motionless knight.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed as the knight looked on in shock, anger, and disbelief. Wild-eyed, the assistant repeatedly stabbed him, the red of his blood failing to deter her.
The knight of Barton Kingdom was dead.