3. Pub scenario (1)

I closed in on the guard rapidly.

Heup!

With a sharp exhale, my fist flew straight toward his hands, aiming to break his sorcery.

The guard, deciding he wouldn’t be able to finish conjuring, instantly discarded his attempt at summoning help and assumed a defensive stance.

After deflecting my first punch, he planted his right leg forward and thrust his left fist with all his might.

“Oof, that fuckin' hurt.”

I slid back from the impact, having blocked his fist with mine.

My wrist would've shattered right then, had I not wrapped my hand in enchanted steel thread.

It’s always been like this with these Stone Cauldron freaks. Even a regular guard—a grunt by all means—had access to their unique technique.

“Hey, man. Wanna brawl it out without your stone form? I’ll also take off my armor, to make it fair.”

“What nonsense are you spitting? If this is all you could show, why bother escaping at all?”

Sigh.

Though I sighed, of course I didn’t expect him to actually comply. I just needed a moment to come up with my next move—which I had.

The trick is to catch them off guard. While their Stone Form is damn near impenetrable for someone of my level, they can’t cover their whole body with it. Instead, they use short bursts of concentrated strength and durability.

In other words, I need to land a strike in a way he won’t be able to react to in time.

“Now!”

At my command, Lyrael, who’d been biding her time while I kept the guard's attention, jumped into action.

She pointed her hand in the guard’s direction, palm facing the sky.

And then—

CRACK!!

She clenched her palm closed, veins bulging across her whole arm.

A deafening crack erupted from below the man, and the stone floor around him suddenly rose and closed in like a cage, trying to crush him with the pressure.

“Haah, haa, I... I, haah, won’t be able to do that a second time,” Lyrael said, panting from the strain of exerting her full force in one attack.

But that was alright.

Now it’s my turn.

I didn’t believe, even for a second, that the guard would be defeated just from that attack. After all, even if he didn’t reinforce his whole body with Stone Form, he was still innately durable due to the techniques he practiced.

Right then, the stone coffin around him burst open, and he charged ahead straight at me, determining that Lyrael no longer posed a threat.

Good.

I smirked. This should be enough to make him believe we’re out of trump cards. And truth be told, we were. But that’s not an issue.

Yet again, he struck me with his ridiculously hard fist, but this time I didn’t block it properly. I let his hit connect with my arm.

Crunch.

My forearm bent at a point where no joint should be.

That’ll hurt like a bitch once the adrenaline settles.

I chuckled at my own thoughts, then leaned toward him even harder, this time swinging my still-unbroken arm at him.

He blocked this attack as well, of course—but he couldn’t have expected what came next.

Instead of being thrown back, the steel glove around my fist unraveled into countless thin threads and wrapped around his hand, anchoring us in place.

“?!!”

He attempted to pull back, but his force just flung me even further toward him, the bind of enchanted steel refusing to break.

Just as he prepared another strike with his free arm—Stone Form manifesting around his fist according to his will—I finally reached him.

Squelch!

I bit into his throat.

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With a grotesque sound of something ripping apart, I sank my teeth in with as much strength as I could muster and yanked my head back, a huge chunk of flesh in my teeth.

The guard couldn’t even scream in pain, clawing at his neck as blood streamed out.

With a thud, he collapsed—no vocal cords to cry out in suffering.

Chew, chew.

I swished the meat in my mouth, feeling relief wash over me as my hunger finally subsided.

Invisible to the naked eye, threads of vitality were pulled out from his body along with the chunk of flesh and flowed freely into my mouth, satiating me.

“Ahh, that was nice. His soul was pristine, thanks to his unique cultivation technique,” I explained to Lyrael with a stupid grin, content with my meal.

Her eyes shook.

***

Lyrael felt sick to her stomach.

She’d never seen someone fight with so little regard for their body.

Ori’s broken arm was still limply hanging at his side, and it clearly hurt him greatly—as she could see him wince every so often as they walked out of the jail.

Yet, despite that, he seemed not to care in the slightest, happily strolling along with light steps, damn near skipping.

I should never get on his bad side.

She was reminded of the simple truth: despite Ori’s friendly demeanor, a threadripper was still a threadripper through and through.

Sure, I helped him out in the fight, but even so, there should’ve been no way for two third-tier fighters to overpower a first-tier Stone Form cultivator, even with exceptional teamwork.

The gap in their cultivation was that large—yet he still managed it, and in such a brutal way.

Ori, noticing Lyrael’s stare, gave her a questioning look, still looking uplifted as ever.

Yeah. I should just be glad we’re on the same side.

And so, they left the prison with no more encounters, choosing to settle down in an inn.

***

“Ahh, shit. Shit, shit, fuck! That hurts so much. Hey, Lyrael, my dearest of companions. Would you so kindly knock me out for a while?”

“What are you talking about? You yourself said we have a bunch of things to prepare. We can’t have you lying cold out in bed with so much work ahead.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

Lyrael was currently fixing up my arm, moving the broken bones into place with precision. Only issue was, the pain was unbearable.

Maybe I shouldn’t have sacrificed my arm like that in the fight...

Lamenting my poor decisions, I squinted from the pain as she put the last bone in place.

For royalty, she’s surprisingly good at first aid. Wonder where she got those skills from.

She picked up a piece of cloth along with two straight twigs, planning to put my arm into a makeshift cast of sleds.

“Wait, don’t do that.”

She shot me a glare, thinking I was going to complain about the pain again.

“What, so you want to become a cripple? Come over here.”

She approached me like a beast, twigs and bandages in hand, clearly getting a kick out of my suffering.

Tsk, why did I end up with yet another crazy person... Being the only normal one is so unfair.

“No, that’s not what I mean! Ma’am…”

Suddenly intimidated by her look, I quickly added a polite word to soothe her. Seemed to work.

“I can do this part myself. Watch.”

She’s certainly just a third-tier fighter, like myself, so why’s her presence so scary all of a sudden?

I took the pieces of wood from her and brought one to my mouth. Taking a bite out of the stick, I watched it unravel into myriad brown strings and willed them to wrap around my broken arm.

Clenching my jaw for the last time, I carefully wove the wooden thread into a solid cast.

“Phew, that’s better.”

She looked at me with disappointment.

“What? Why do you look so upset that I managed to painlessly fix my arm in place? Did you want to make me suffer more?” I asked, exasperated.

“Yes.”

She mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything. Your hearing must’ve suffered from the fight.”

“Sure, sure it did. Now then, I think it’s time to go gather intel. Ain’t that right?”

I stood up, dusting myself off. The inn we stayed at was a rather musty one—full of dust and clearly unkempt.

We couldn’t really choose a good place to stay near the center of the city, since the royal guard was probably scouring the whole place by now.

We ended up having to share a bed between the two of us, since all the two-bed rooms were full of broke people like ourselves. This place is quite famous for its dirt-cheap prices.

Remembering how she scolded me when I tried to sleep on the floor, I shivered.

I don’t get what’s wrong with a little sleep on a straight wooden surface. It’s certainly better than sleeping on the rocky slopes of a mountain.

But when I told her that, she said something about how it’s not good for your back or something.

I really don’t understand women, huh? What’s so bad about a little back ache in the morning? I’ve slept in places infinitely worse in the last hundred years, but I decided not to argue with her because of how pissed she was.

***

Two hours later, we found ourselves in a pub—both for Lyrael to have a proper meal, since she hadn’t had any satisfying food in the last two weeks, and also to gather info on the search party sent after us.

The goal was to listen in on rumors. After all, a jail escape from the royal detention center was huge news, so there was bound to be plenty of talk about the state of affairs.

As Lyrael bit into her steak with vigor, I sighed.

“But really? A straw hat and a bandage over my eyes? I look ridiculous.”

“Stop complaining. You, of all people, should know how much your eyes stand out. Especially after the fight yesterday—you’ve still got that look of someone who could swallow a man alive if they glanced at you wrong.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong...”

I took a sip of the beverage before me. Some pisswater-looking—and pisswater-tasting—liquid. Apparently, everyone in the central region loves this drink. Can’t see the appeal, personally. Tastes vile.

With a scrunched-up face, I listened to the conversations around us. A peculiar couple walked through the door.

“Young master, the weather is terrible right now! What if you get soaked? Please, let’s just wait the rain out at the tavern, or your lord will scold me again.”

An attendant was desperately begging his young master to wait out the storm.

“Tch, fine. Just stop clinging to my cloak. You look pathetic right now.”

With an angry look, the man shooed his servant off and looked around.

I quickly severed my gaze. Interacting with privileged dudes like him is exhausting, so I did my best to avoid his attention, focusing intensely on the mug before me.

Once again, I took a sip—and instantly regretted it, barely holding in the urge to spit the drink out.

“Oho, aren’t you a peculiar couple? Mind if we sit down next to you? As you can see, there aren’t any free seats left around here.”

The young master walked up to me and inquired, pulling out a chair to sit before I could answer—obviously expecting me to agree, considering his status.

And unfortunately for me, my tongue isn’t something I can control too well. Before I could even decide what to tell him, the words slipped out on their own.

“Why is this sleazy fuck just doing whatever he wants?”

Whoops.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, mortified.

“…”

“…”

The whole pub went dead silent.

I could’ve sworn the temperature dropped by a couple degrees just then.