“Why don’t you have dinner before you go, Irene the trainee?”
“Y-Yes?”
“It’s getting late, and I’d feel bad just sending you back like that after you’ve prepared all this.”
“B-but I just wanted to make it…”
“Come on, you’ve got to show some consideration. It’s not right to just send you back like this, Maid.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Please warm up the beef stew and bread.”
“Of course, leave it to me!”
“…But, please don’t overdo it. Take your time.”
“??”
“I-I’ll help you!”
Irene was quite perceptive and approached Leira to lend a hand.
Meanwhile, Lee Han observed with a pleased expression as he started grabbing the two hand axes hanging on the wall.
“While you prepare, I’ll just chop some wood. Trainee Irene, please take good care of the maid.”
“Y-Yes, yes!”
Somehow, everything felt like it was progressing a little too smoothly.
Despite having unintentionally found herself in a situation where she was getting dinner, Irene felt grateful deep down that she wouldn’t have to eat alone.
Even though there was a ghost inside her that wouldn’t stop talking, at least ghosts don’t bring warmth.
‘Is he just a thoughtful person?’
As she stared at his back as he left, a hopeful expectation arose in Irene that he might be a meticulous and caring man, contrary to his appearance.
─However, contrary to her optimism.
Creeeak.
“……”
His face as he stepped out the door showed nothing of the warm kindness she was hoping for—only a chilling bleakness surrounded him.
* * *
Around the quiet cabin.
It was a peaceful scene that could only be described as idyllic, suitable for a storyteller to narrate to their audience. Yet, within that serene landscape, Lee Han felt a dissonance looming.
Gradually, he walked forward with both hand axes clutched in his hands.
“Step forward.”
-……….
“Just so you know, I’ll only warn you twice.”
At the moment Lee Han’s eyes began to shine with a fierce glint,
Woof.
The ‘thugs’ revealed themselves.
Suspicious figures dressed in black.
There seemed to be more than thirty of them, and Lee Han showed no sign of relaxing at the sight of these ominous figures.
At that moment.
“Calm down. We’re not here to threaten you.”
One of the dark-clad men, who exuded a distinct aura, spoke up, offering an explanation.
“Ha, you say you’re not here to threaten us, yet you’re radiating such dangerous vibes?”
“……”
“It’s obvious you’re a dangerous group.”
An excuse must hold some validity to be believable.
With the smell of blood permeating the air, who would be convinced just by asking them to trust them?
However.
“That goes for you, too.”
“What?”
“In terms of danger, you’re far from innocent, peasant. How can we possibly calm down with scum like you next to the lady?”
“…Ha, look at this guy?”
Talk about irony.
Seeing such a brazen character made Lee Han’s head feel icy instead.
Yet, his heart beat louder and louder as he began to—
Thud.
“This won’t do. I can let the others go, but you deserve a punch.”
“Bullshit.”
Lee Han tossed the axe to the ground and approached the black-clad man he disliked the most, who in turn—
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.”
Whether he liked the suggestion or not, he passed the sword he had saved to another and stepped forward.
The next moment.
Thump!
Boom!
Without any further dialogue, the two men began throwing punches at each other.
……It was truly a bizarre start to an unexpected brawl.
* * *
Lee Han’s punches—or rather, his physique—is formidable.
Just having the bloodline of a troll grants him exceptional strength, and with relentless training, he could beat a knight hollow with just his physical prowess.
As evidence, there was the vice commander of the Pollet family, who was beaten by him the day before.
So, when it comes to a fistfight, there’s hardly anyone who can beat Lee Han.
Actually, you shouldn’t be brawling bare-handed in the first place.
But…
BAM! BAM!
Boom!
WHAM!
A fight is certainly underway.
No, it’s more than just a fight.
CRACK!
“…I admit, that’s pretty spicy.”
“You think you can only fight with words?”
“Probably not.”
BAM!
Lee Han was on the back foot.
He had never lost when it came to physical confrontations, but right now, he was definitely being pushed back.
The black-clad thug’s punches were swift and artful; it was clear he had trained in proper martial arts.
It was unusual considering most knights focused solely on weapon techniques, but that wasn’t on anyone’s mind at the moment.
No wonder.
CRACK!
Their only interest was to ‘subdue’ their opponent.
Lee Han’s fist clashed with the thug’s.
For a brief moment, you could almost hear a bone-breaking sound—but it wasn’t their bones cracking; it was the stones scuttling beneath their feet.
Whoosh!
Lee Han threw rapid jabs like a boxer, the sound echoing ominously.
He unleashed six punches, each one capable of slicing skin if they just grazed by.
But the black-clad thug dodged and blocked all of Lee Han’s punches, quickly closing the distance and landing a low kick on his calf.
He might lack strength, but there was something sharp and piercing about his blows.
Sometimes, you come across someone like this.
Some strike with weight, while others strike with ‘swords’ (literally).
Every time they were hit, it felt like being nicked by a razor, leaving red welts on Lee Han’s skin.
But Lee Han’s strikes were also nothing to sneeze at.
If his opponent’s attacks were sharp as blades, then Lee Han’s were akin to hammer blows.
Whoosh!
“…Fine, I’ll give you credit, peasant. I don’t know about anything else, but your punches pack quite a sting.”
One of Lee Han’s blows hit the black-clad thug square in the gut, causing blood to spill from his lips.
That was a gut-wrenching punch; it wouldn’t have been unusual if he collapsed right there.
However, strangely enough, the thug remained standing, and Lee Han furrowed his brow.
“Isn’t your goal to collapse right now?”
“You’re still flapping your gums.”
BAM!
No lengthy discussions were needed.
The exchanges continued, and with every hit, Lee Han and the thug disregarded defense, merely landing blows on each other’s fists and legs repeatedly.
It had turned into a matter of pride.
At some point, the nature of their fight morphed; now, there was no defense—only an onslaught of attacks from both sides.
Hit and be hit. In return, hit harder.
In the realm of striking, these two men engaged in a brutal exchange that could hardly be outmatched, and with every blow they struck, debris scattered throughout the yard.
Trees were pierced, stones shattered like tofu, and everything around them broke apart.
“……”
“……”
Despite the fact that they must have been in considerable pain, neither man uttered a single scream, and they kept punching each other, gradually incorporating more than just punches into the mix.
Whoosh!
Catch wrestling.
It’s a combination of joint locks and holds, known for allegedly maintaining decorum and etiquette.
However, the catch wrestling executed by the black-clad man wasn’t dignified in the slightest; it was more along the lines of a snake tightening its grip threateningly.
‘Is this guy a grappler?!’
It sent chills down Lee Han’s spine.
He acknowledged it.
This guy either spent a lifetime honing a discipline that matched his physical abilities, or he was naturally gifted with insane talent and physical prowess.
Apart from outliers like Baltar, he was the strongest fighter he had encountered thus far.
And that realization was…
‘…Damn, why is this so much fun?’
Lee Han was starting to get excited purely because he found the situation amusing.
Even though he wasn’t the kind of guy to enjoy meeting a strong opponent in a perverse way.
And that led him to…
Hoooh!
Let loose.
‘What kind of person is this?’
‘There’s someone challenging Sir Lac in a head-on fight…?’
‘…This is absurd.’
Meanwhile, the other black-clad thugs watching the duel gaped in silent shock.
Who was Sir Lac, after all?
He was a monster recognized for his skills from a young age in the training camp, so much so that even Duke Galahad called him preposterous.
Isn’t he the one who was granted the title of ‘Lac’ (Lake) only given to the best knights of the Galahad family?
Yet here he was, losing to an unknown knight in a match.
Why, you ask, was he losing despite fighting well?
‘He started using techniques.’
He was employing grappling techniques.
That was something a knight commander or one of those who revered Duke Galahad might resort to when they were running low on stamina during a spar.
Thus, the black-clad thugs thought it was game over.
They knew just how refined his skills were, and how terrifying.
…And yet.
“…That crazy dude?”
They gasped again.
It was one thing to display strikes on par with Sir Lac just moments ago, but now they were astonished for an entirely different reason.
Snap!
“Did he just rise up from that position? …Using just strength?”
The knight known as Lee Han lifted himself up despite being tangled in a hold.
There was a fear that his arms and shoulders might break, and his neck was straining too, yet he persevered and stood tall.
It sounded like his arms and shoulders were cracking.
“…What a madman.”
“It’ll be fine in time.”
“Want me to test it?”
“Go ahead.”
Crack!
The sound of breaking intensified, but Lee Han instead pushed harder to keep his grip on him.
He wouldn’t let him escape, not for a second.
“Don’t let go, or I’ll finish you off.”
“Give it a shot.”
Neither Lee Han nor Lac showed any signs of wanting to yield, and their enthusiasm only grew stronger.
It was a battle of wills.
A battle where they extracted flesh and took bones.
Even as Lee Han struggled to breathe, with his shoulders close to dislocating, he prepared to bring his opponent down, while Lac was doing everything to crush Lee Han’s shoulder, feeling bewildered by the situation where it wouldn’t break despite everything.
Just then, as the showdown of pride between the two men reached its climax…
[-Enough.]
“……”
“……”
An ‘irrefutable third party’ demanded they lay down their pride.
[Stop it. Let go of Lac’s arm, you too.]
“…If this guy lets go first, then…”
“If the peasant acknowledges his defeat, we will stop.”
[…Do I appear to be asking nicely?]
“……”
“……”
[On three, you let go. One, two, three-.]
Snap!
Boom!
“…Not letting go?”
“Not a chance for you either.”
[……Sigh.]
They ultimately didn’t take heed of the third party’s words, and blood was spilled once more.
But no matter what, stubborn pride kept these two men fighting, causing a deep sigh to escape their onlooker.
Unlike what had been recorded, Lee Han seemed like a perfectly normal man, a bit less insane.
The one who commanded Galahad at the time,
‘Blake Vivian de Galahad’ sighed deeply.
Looking at these two relentless youngsters was giving him a headache.
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