A challenge

Chapter 11: A challenge

Before the new wave of summoned appeared in the world, villagers couldn't afford to hunt trolls.

Those existences wandered outside in packs of four, their vast forms, strength, and long spears were too much of a hurdle for tanks, and the village also lacked proficient healers. Sharla's appearance had given them some confidence to try their luck on the forest's borders, but the real reason these villagers nowadays boldly stepped into the forest was a demon lord.

Whoever that person was, he used his influence to call lower creatures to his side, gathering various races from his sphere of influence under his dark castle. No one could oppose him.

And as communities with heroes at the helm used poorer villages as a punishment, the demon lords reared up different races around their lands, which often bordered the villages and even cities. Of course, the best farms were dungeons, there were races and lands worthy of grooming.

Nonetheless, Bryce focused more on this unusual action of the demon lord.

'The first thought that comes to my mind is a villain,' Bryce inwardly pondered, 'they are players, but on a different side. They should have a skill similar to heroic companion, too.' It wouldn't be odd for the demon lord to gather many races, have them fight to choose the best of the best, then have them join the villain's side.

And with that idea in mind, Bryce had a feeling the villain would soon attack the village he was staying in.

Keeping his loathing of Mr. Arnold within himself, Bryce listened to them while silently forming some plans for himself. He could no longer just dwell and train behind the safe walls; the villain must be increasing his strength and thinking of schemes to satisfy his summoner, after all.

Bryce needed to level up, upgrade his equipment, and face the enemy head-on.

"He's okay now." Sharla stood up, feigned some exhaustion by wiping off her sweat, then gave a good last glance at the wounded man before turning to Mr. Arnold. She rebuked him for allowing a troll to come closer to an archer, his face scrunched as though he had eaten some bugs, then, with a satisfaction swelling her heart, Sharla lifted her eyes at Bryce.

He smiled, and both showed their backs to the hunter party.

But as Bryce stepped forward, an unknown voice drummed in his mind.

[Do you have to face the villain?]

He halted and gawked forward. Sharla noticed his odd reaction, looked at him worriedly, and asked whether he was fine, but Bryce hadn't responded as though her concern flew through him; he kept standing straight.

He wondered whether it was him asking the question or someone else did. It was true that he didn't have to fight the villain, though, he could go outside the world, get experience through monsters and even dungeons, then find answers differently.

But Bryce quickly found his thoughts laughable. The reason he wanted to contest villains and monsters was that strength was exactly the answer to everything in this world; he learned about it through encounters with the villagers. Thinking about them, he shook his head as though some understanding had dawned on him.

"I'm fine."

Bryce turned around, and still seeing Arnold's back, he smiled widely and shouted, "Arnold!"

The tank froze, and so did his friends, then Arnold wheeled to Bryce as though he had been slapped, glowering at the youngster with widened eyes. He didn't like how casually Bryce had called him.

Bryce's smile remained undaunted, "I want to go outside with Sharla by my side to hunt trolls. I know you and others won't like that, so let's fight. You and your buddy archer will fight against me. If I win, no one will stop us."

Arnold blinked, not believing his ears, but as the crowd and his buddy glanced at him with confused and worried eyes, he chortled and pointed with a firm and thick finger at Bryce. "You want to face me, the tank, and the archer at the same time?! Idiot, you are fucking idiot!"

It was impossible, solely because of the level gap and difference of classes, it was like throwing himself to death. Of course, no one thought Bryce would die in a fight because that would be a pointless killing.

But he surely will get beaten severely should a fight between them happen, for Arnold openly voiced his displeasure with Bryce.

Exactly that absurdity was the reason Arnold took a challenge. Bryce also knew how influential the tank was in the village, being the best front on many hunts, he would surely be able to do his job after losing.

"Tomorrow afternoon, we will fight you!" Arnold guffawed together with his friends after that declaration.

Bryce just nodded and turned around. He bypassed Sharla and headed to her house.

She snapped out of her daze and shouted, "That's not how I told you to grow up in the village!"

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Arnold returned home.

He dropped his heavy armor, shoved it to the corner of his corridor, then entered the kitchen. He saw his wife waiting for him with a warm meal, their daughter was happily swaying her legs, not daring to start the dinner without her daddy.

He showed them a different kind of smile, patted his daughter's hair, then three of them started eating. He ate roughly without any manners, exaggerating about his deeds in today's hunt, he didn't mention the wounded archer and just kept flaunting his skills.

His daughter was staring at him with shining eyes.

After a meal, they sent her off to their room. Arnold took a quick bath and returned to his room, his wife waiting for him all naked beneath the blanket.

After wrestling with her, Arnold's mind eased, he felt nothing but pleasure booming in his blank head, becoming too vulnerable.

A foreign voice called him and whispered some words in a cold and laughing tone.

A few breaths later, Arnold left the bed, went to his archer friend, and both of them went to the nightclub. Here, both married men did more wrestling with various types of women, splurging their hard-earned money as though enchanted.

Arnold held a bundle of sweaty streaks, a soft sound of flesh echoing beneath him, and said, "There are wounds that a healer like Sharla can not heal."

His friend, doing the same action to a different woman, nodded and asked, "We will take his eye, right?"

"Eyes," Arnold corrected, sneering widely, his movements becoming so rougher that he no longer could have any conversation with his friend.

His buddy did the same, enjoying the benefits of having more strength than your average villager.