### Chapter 142: Sir, What Are You Doing Here?
“Ah! Ah, ah—”
The soldier screamed in pain, his face twisted like a pretzel, and the crowd gasped again. The other two soldiers rushed forward, one of them dramatically unsheathing his short sword and pointing it at me. “Let him go, let him go!”
“d*mn it…”
“Watch out, Little Shay!”
As Ryan’s voice called out from behind, I stepped forward, loosening my grip on the soldier’s head. With my left hand firmly pressing down on his skull, I abruptly shoved him aside. I flicked my right hand, and with a “clang!” my middle finger struck the sword’s blade pointing at me, as quick as lightning, leaving no time for anyone to react!
That sword-wielding soldier probably only saw a blur and then felt an immense force emanating from his hand. He jolted, the short sword slipping from his grip and spinning in the air with a whoosh, landing perfectly in the hands of a young girl.
At the same time, the third soldier took a cautious step forward but got frozen mid-stride.
“Don’t shout, don’t move.”
I felt quite composed.
True, they were eyeing me as if I were some bizarre, incomprehensible creature from a fairytale. But hey, the first soldier I kicked had managed to get up from the ground, and I hadn’t broken anyone’s fingers or harmed anyone, which meant I was in control.
Even if I was still quite angry.
I took a calm look at the group and said, “I’d like to ask you something… and don’t move.”
The soldier I had just pushed down, probably infuriated and still nursing his sore fingers, couldn’t contain himself and lunged at me. I lifted my foot and planted the sole of my red boots on his stomach, applying just enough pressure to send him crashing back to the ground.
“Stay still, and don’t shout. I have a question for you.”
“Sag!”
“Stop, stop—”
“Who are you? What are you?!”
“Just a passing dude, an ordinary tough guy.”
Amid the chaos, one soldier shouted, and I casually replied, feeling my irritation climb. I forced myself to calm down and added, “If you move or shout again, I’ll have to use the Power of Order.”
“You…”
That threat worked wonders.
These soldiers were drunk, their heads probably fuzzy with confusion, unable to control their emotions or desires. They thought it was a good idea to mess with a bunch of local youths, not considering what the Church Knights might do about it—that was a worry for after they sobered up.
But even though they were drunk, they weren’t oblivious. They knew well enough whom to mess with and whom not to mess with—
With the situation in the southern region still unclear but reportedly grim, some heretics had stepped into the northern realm amidst the chaos. The Holy Church had set up a sturdy defense net south of Woodward Forest and implemented a series of measures under the guise of protection but effectively acting as surveillance.
And Stag Town, being one of those protected places, was naturally filled with many clergy and powerful warriors on a lively night like this. To prevent heretics from slipping in and causing irreparable harm and casualties, the Church’s well-prepared warriors, ready to face demons, possessed nearly mythic strength.
Such power was an everlasting source of admiration and reverence for these average soldiers of Silgaya—always a topic of drunken banter, tales of grandeur, never connecting with individuals they could ever confront.
They wouldn’t dare dream of provoking such individuals!
So, when the young girl mentioned the “Power of Order,” the soldiers all froze.
They knew people like that were bound to be in Stag Town lately, though they’d never seen one. It was hard to match the girl before them with the envisioned formidable warriors; it was downright ridiculous.
Yet they were still scared.
In an instant, nobody dared to speak or move, all frozen in place, gazing at the girl as if she were a long-lost forest fairy—goodness, she was even more beautiful than the legends suggested! They couldn’t help but think about the delightful experience of showering her with affection! They’d gladly march into battle just for a chance!
But that desire was eventually quelled by their fears—though they couldn’t connect her appearance with the term “warrior,” her demonstrated prowess was telling enough.
The moment a soldier opened his mouth to say “you,” he instinctively changed his tune, stuttering out: “Um, you are…”
God knows how awkward it felt calling what seemed like a clueless little girl “you,” but he did it anyway since she was pointing a sword at his nose.
“Who are you?”
He raised his hands, his face masked with a strained grin, nervously swallowing his saliva.
The girl remained expressionless. “Just a passing tough guy.”
“Cough cough…”
He was still trying to understand what “tough guy” even meant when she started speaking again: “So, you all are soldiers of the Republic, right?”
She seemed a bit tongue-tied…
Her speech was slow and sweet, adorably so.
“W-We certainly are…”
“Then why aren’t you fighting in the south?”
“Uh…”
“Why are you drinking here?”
“Uh…”
“Do you know how many people have died over there?”
“…No, we’re just following orders to transport supplies—”
“Don’t you have families over there?”
…What nonsense, obviously not.
“We are soldiers, so we have to listen to orders… With so many people starving, someone has to help…”
“But this is your country.”
The girl slowly retracted her sword and tossed it back to the soldier; he clumsily caught it, almost nicking himself.
“This is your country. With enemies invading and slaughtering your people, the knights are the ones standing in front. A lot of them have died. And yet you, the ones supposed to defend Silgaya, are just… transporting supplies?”
“No, you’ve got it wrong, we’re transport soldiers, so it’s just…”
“You think I don’t know what’s going on over there?”
Her voice suddenly turned icy, her gaze slicing through the crowd like a kn*fe, and for a moment, the soldiers were genuinely intimidated by her presence.
“Uh…”
“No one from your side has gone. Only a little over three thousand went, uh… also transport soldiers, carrying supplies, which can’t fight. Is that all the Republic has left? Just supply transporters?”
…That was a tricky subject to tackle.
It was a decision from above, and as a lowly soldier, he could only follow orders. Of course, there were soldiers in the capital, how could there not be? But why weren’t they sent in? Why were the Church’s Third and Sixth Knights the ones to confront the demons first? He had no idea.
Not going to the battlefield was a great stroke of luck! They were happy to avoid it! Who cared why they weren’t sent?
That was a decision made by the leadership in the capital and the Church.
But he couldn’t say that.
“Well, you see, miss, ever since heretics started attacking, it has always been the Church countering them. We… to be honest, we can handle bandits, but against those demons… We’d just be sending ourselves to our deaths. The Holy Church is a benevolent organization that won’t send innocent individuals to d*e…”
I stared into his eyes.
That response did not satisfy me…
“What are you bothering her for? Have you really been scared off by a little girl?”
Maybe after processing everything, the drunkenness kicked in again, and a comrade of the soldier reacted, feeling embarrassed after being knocked down not once but twice and now showing fear. He pointed at me and shouted, calling over the others. “Don’t let her go! None of you can leave! If you dare to mess with us… just wait for the knights to handle you!”
He was trying to sound tough, but it was obvious he was still quite intoxicated, making threats that didn’t even make sense… Who said I was leaving? Do I look like I’m about to walk away? You’ve still got to pay me for those sweet pastries!
“Make way! Make way!”
A group of five or six knights in golden armor finally arrived, pushing through the crowd. The lead knight glanced at the few youths standing nearby, then at the soldiers still caked in mud, frowning as he inquired, “What’s going on?”
“Sir Knight, these countryside bumpkins are being arrogant, treating us like we’re nothing! We were minding our business when they provoked us!”
The soldier I first kicked had already recovered, now supported by someone. Seeing the First Knights Order arrive, he rushed forward, casting a side glance at me as he stomped toward the leading knight, clutching his side and gritting his teeth, feigning injury. “I was hurt, and I might need treatment…”
“Ha.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
A soldier of the Republic, a big man, looking utterly ridiculous in his drunken state.
“Lies! Sir Knight, they’re lying!”
“We could never take them on!”
The youths quickly rebutted, their faces pale with anxiety. Ryan pointed at the red-haired soldier with a slightly swollen face, shouting, “That soldier kept slapping my friend just because we accidentally bumped into him! They wouldn’t let us pass! Ask them, they all saw!”
He pointed toward the crowd; some people nodded slightly, others averted their gazes. Women were pulling excited children along, muttering about how there was nothing to see as they slipped out of the crowd.
The lead knight frowned, studying Ryan for a moment, then turned to the soldiers. After a brief pause, his expression turned contemptuous—he wasn’t a fool; these young people clearly weren’t from wealthy families, looking for trouble. Who would go provoke a bunch of drunk soldiers? The smell of alcohol was practically suffocating him!
However, protocols had to be followed. Given the recent circumstances, he couldn’t rule out even a one-in-a-million chance that these young ones might have ulterior motives; there might be more to their identities than met the eye…
“Where are you hurt?”
The lead knight asked, eyeing the soldier with a furrowed brow. The soldier promptly pointed at his side. “Sir Knight, here! Look, this kick dented my armor!”
The armor near the soldier’s waist was indeed dented, and the lead knight’s heart sank. This wasn’t something just any ordinary group of brash kids could inflict. His expression turned serious as a wary glint flashed in his eyes. “Who did this?”
“It was her!”
The soldier pointed right at me.
He looked very much like a child coming home to brag to his mom about getting bullied.
Thus, the lead knight’s gaze fell on me.
Having initially been obstructed by the crowd, he now noticed the girl standing here. He frowned slightly, stepping closer as if trying to get a clear look at me—his demeanor turned grave, his wariness deepening. One hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword, the aura around him became threatening. But the next moment, he froze in place.
The knight abruptly halted, his eyes widening in surprise before quickly shifting into a hurried step, rushing towards me. His previously aggressive presence vanished in an instant. He stood to attention, fist on chest, speaking respectfully. “…Sir.”
“Y-You’re here…”
