235 A Barrel Full of Trouble (1/2)

Not very far from Orma, in Fiercelake Nation

A woman dragged a girl to the door, desperate. ”See, that lunatic is still there! Still there!” She pointed to a big man two meters tall and had tears in her eyes. ”They tried to chase him away, to send him away. They also hit him! But nothing, it's always there, staring at nothing for days!”

Just in front of the woman's shop was standing a very tall, muscular warrior, staring at nothing as if with his eyes he could cancel the brick buildings and look at the distant horizon. With strong hands, he clutched the two swords that rested on his waist, going down on his hips.

He had appeared out of nowhere in the village, nobody knew him and everyone feared him. The citizens only knew that one morning they had woken up and found him right there - and then he had never moved from that spot. He hadn't moved a finger or a leg, hadn't sat down, hadn't yawned, hadn't even seen him take a sip of water.

”And what am I supposed to do?” asked the girl, exasperated.

”If you want to earn your wage, you better go and see if you can get any information from that guy!” Just as the girl was about to reply, the woman opened the door and pushed her outside: ”Or sent him away!”

The girl took a deep breath.

The woman looked at her from top to toe. The girl's rigid behaviour betrayed some fear.

In fact, the thug looked terrifying, he had two huge weapons in sight and he had never answered any questions. He must have been a tremendously lethal warrior. To stay so long standing, always in the same place, he also had to have an incredible level. One more reason not to want him in the village.

Their village was very close to the largest city in the region; it was very large, but it was renowned for being one of the most peaceful and calm places around there.

A glance at him was enough to understand it was a barrel full of trouble. And nobody there was looking for trouble.

The scarred face and arms suggested that the man liked to fight. Some recent injuries must have been caused by a lethal duel.

At best, it had to be someone who had not passed the entrance exam for a nearby academy; in the worst case, however, it had to be a violence-loving brawler.

Everyone was looking at the old hag, who owned the supply store, sending the new girl to the brute.

”Poor girl,” sighed one of the passers-by.

”That man is really young, he will not be more than twenty years old, despite all those scars,” murmured one of his friends, who walked beside him.

”He has been standing in the same spot for a week. It seems that something broke his soul and that he is no longer able to recover.”

”Lately there have been several conflicts on the borders, he may even be a deserter.”

At those words, someone exclaimed in terror. The crowd began to thin out: it was better to stay away from a deserter.

But the young apprentice approached the brute without apparent fear. While leaving, many watched her, terrified of the outcome of that meeting.

The girl had to be the same age as the warrior, but her build was much more slender and her skin was delicate and free of imperfections, as if she had been protected from any bump in life.

She was not particularly beautiful, but she had dark eyes as deep as the universe, which gave them an indescribable charm.

Her cheeks were slightly plump, but the elongated shape of her face gave her a vague squirrel-like look. The badly cut hair on the bangs, on the other hand, gave her a cheeky and naive appearance.

She was tall and had a rather slender figure.

Still, her beauty would not bring down whole kingdoms.

Approaching the warrior, at least a span taller than she was, she did not even smile.

”Hello,” began the young woman, with a little naivety.