Do You Dare to Fight Me, You Scum?

As the unexpected discordant voice echoed, Roen merely furrowed his brows but didn't speak up to stop it.

Sean shook his head, recognizing the traits of a shrewd and suspicious merchant in Roen. He couldn't blame him; it was a product of the environment Roen had grown up in.

However...

Sean finally raised his gaze to inspect the burly man standing behind Fox.

This was a heavily built man, and Sean suspected he might have some bear lineage in his blood. However, any such bloodline seemed diluted over the centuries, leaving only the most prominent feature—a robust physique.

Typically, individuals like him would choose defensive-oriented professions, taking advantage of attribute bonuses. But this man was an exception.

He was wearing a type of armor known as "Willow Spike Plate," which used willow spikes to secure armor plates, connected by straps to cover only the heart area for focused protection. Despite its simplicity, this armor provided other benefits, notably enhancing hand coordination and movement range. Those who wore this type of armor also had distinct behavioral habits and characteristics.

In the Northland Empire, there was an advanced class called the "Berserker," and their standard armor shared this willow spike plate style.

However, it was impossible for the burly man before Sean to be a Berserker, as that was a full-fledged fifth-tier special class.

Sean simply needed someone like him, coupled with a dozen or so third-tier professionals, to sweep the Dogheads tribe.

Therefore, Sean's gaze lingered briefly on the man before shifting to his hands. The broad range at which his hands were held, prominent knuckles, and calloused palms were clear signs of long-term use of polearms. Together with his robust build and attire, Sean pieced together his probable career.

A gladiator.

After sizing up the man, Sean turned his attention back to Roen. "It seems Mr. Roen doesn't fully trust me."

"I didn't mean it that way," Roen responded. He hadn't expected Sean to so blatantly disregard his subordinate. While Roen was wary of relinquishing command to Sean, he also had doubts about his own leadership abilities. There was no evidence to prove that Roen was an excellent commander, especially when Sean was only second-tier.

In Miracle Continent, the second tier represented "apprentices."

"Boom!"

The burly man bypassed Fox and slammed his hands onto the table with tremendous force, producing a deafening sound that drew the attention of everyone in the inn's lobby.

As the burly man spoke in a thunderous voice, "Kid, let me tell you, the true commander of this team is me!" his words resonated with the ferocity of a raging bear. "Hah, but you're just a second-tier warrior, harboring delusions of being a commander, even commanding a team made up entirely of third-tier individuals. Could such a ludicrous thing happen in this world?"

"When we traversed the Starfall Forest, everyone in the team was indeed third-tier," Cecilia interjected nonchalantly, shooting a sidelong glance at the burly man. "By the way, at that time, Sean was only a first-tier mercenary."

Cecilia's voice was light, not nearly as loud as the burly man's, but her words were crystal clear to the trio across from her.

"This has got to be the funniest joke I've heard all year," the burly man said, his original annoyance vanishing, leaving only a scornful smile. "A first-tier mercenary?"

The mockery was evident.

Cecilia didn't seem offended. She merely looked the burly man up and down, her gaze resembling that of a chef considering the best angle to carve from a cut of meat. As her eyes swept over him, the burly man felt an eerie sensation, as if he were being pricked. 

In that moment, he understood that this young girl before him had truly experienced bloodshed, and her current strength posed a threat to his safety. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had this unsettling feeling.

But how could a young girl like her possibly...

"You're afraid," Cecilia met the burly man's gaze, her smile radiant but chilling. "But it's understandable. How could someone as muscle-bound as you ever comprehend the profound meaning behind the word 'intelligence'? For a mere pig like you, I shouldn't ask too much."

With a snarl, the burly man reached out to grab Cecilia. "Little brat, do you want to die?"

"Thud."

Suddenly, Sean's hand landed on the burly man's wrist, halting his movement. "That's enough."

Roen and Fox, standing behind Sean, raised their eyebrows.

They could all see that the burly man hadn't used his full strength, but they also knew that his ancestry bore the bloodline of the Bear Tribe. Even without exerting himself fully, stopping him was not something an ordinary person could do.

Yet Sean had halted the burly man's action with just a simple hand, even though he was clearly putting in all his effort. This demonstrated that Sean's strength was far beyond the typical second-tier level.

As the burly man felt Sean's hand holding him back despite his increased effort, he was briefly astonished. But anger and shame quickly clouded his judgment. He instinctively intensified his grip, and at that moment, his intentions were no longer as simple as trying to grab Cecilia.

If he couldn't handle a second-tier brat, how could he continue being a guard in the Black Cat Guild?

Sensing the increasing strength in the burly man's grip, Sean immediately realized that he couldn't physically stop him, even with his full effort. However, he was not willing to stand by if Cecilia got hurt in front of him because she was the closest thing to family he had in this world.

If his loved ones were harmed, and he couldn't prevent it, that would be an absolute tragedy!

In an instant, Sean's gaze transformed, exuding a murderous intent and an imposing presence. He coldly said, "Don't force me to cut off your hand."

As he spoke, Sean's left hand had already gripped the scabbard of Charles' sword.

"Give it a try!" The burly man raised his eyebrows, increasing his strength once again.

Cecilia's lips moved slightly, and the aura of magic began to emanate within the inn. Elemental forces in the air instantly became active, noticeably raising the ambient temperature—an unmistakable sign of a fire elemental surge.

Normally, such an elemental surge shouldn't be easily perceptible. However, in this small inn where air circulation wasn't particularly good and room density was high, it manifested as a conspicuous feature.

Upon sensing the fluctuations in elemental energy and the murderous intent emanating from Sean, even Fox's expression, which had been calm until now, couldn't remain as composed.

At this moment, he finally realized that both he and Roen, even the entire Black Cat Guild, had underestimated this man named Sean. Not even the nearby apprentice magician had been given the attention they deserved.

"Stop!" Fox shouted in a deep voice, his voice seemingly like a surging tide. However, it only reached Sean and his own subordinates, making them momentarily breathless and involuntarily stopping their actions.

He dared not use this method to intimidate Cecilia because everyone knew that a mage's manipulation of magical energy was closely linked to their mental state. If he did so, this young girl might get hurt.

He was well aware that Roen had come here to seek the warrior's help. If it had only been a minor scuffle or a probing attempt, that would have been one thing. But if this led to a genuine confrontation, it would deviate from the purpose of their journey.

Sean, on the other hand, glanced at Fox as well. He didn't know the man's name, but he did realize the extent of his formidable abilities. It was only now that he discovered that Fox was, in fact, a Silver-ranked expert—according to the game's classifications, he belonged to the realm of fifth or sixth tier.

Yet Sean was somewhat surprised. If Roen had a bodyguard like this, even if the Black Cat Guild hadn't sent reinforcements, Roen, accompanied by just ten or so third-tier experts, would have been more than enough to level the Dogheads tribe. After all, the tribe, despite its large numbers, consisted mainly of second and third-tier individuals.

But now, Sean didn't want to bother with the reasons why this expert refused to act. His gaze returned to the burly man, and he said icily, "Your name."

"Hmph," the burly man sneered with arrogance.

"Since you don't have a name, it doesn't matter," Sean slowly stood up, gently stroked Cecilia's head to reassure her, and then turned to the burly man. "Since you think my strength is inadequate to be a commander, let's have a match... you, bastard."

"What did you say!" The burly man erupted in anger.

"The bear tribe is, no matter the era, a form of orcs, a humanoid race."

Sean's lips curled up slightly, displaying an equally obvious mocking expression. "In the early days of the Rebirth Era, humans and orcs waged war, and both sides took countless captives. Eventually, the half-orc, a new breed, was born from their bloodlines. In your case, with the blood of the bear tribe orcs, it's evident that your ancestors were half-orcs, descendants of a hybrid breed. What else can you be if not a bastard?"

"I'll kill you!" The burly man's eyes turned red, and veins bulged on his neck.

"Hank!" Roen suddenly shouted, snapping the burly man back to his senses.

"Even with a name, a hybrid is still a hybrid."

Cecilia spoke coldly. "I have a hybrid breed of dog as a pet, and even if I give it a name, it doesn't change the fact that it's a hybrid dog."

"Attack!" The man named Hank suddenly clenched his fists, and a surge of power emanated from him. His next punch was aimed directly at Cecilia's face.

The punch felt like a cutting blade, causing a shiver of pain.

In an instant, a chilling aura burst forth.

Hank's fist stopped abruptly, his eyes reddened, and he turned to look at Sean.

In between them, the wooden table had already been split in two.

Sean's sword was drawn.

"You, bastard, your opponent is me," Sean's eyes were icy, radiating a strong killing intent. "Do you dare to fight?"