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Ryan coughed violently as dust and debris clouded the air around him. The sudden blast had thrown up a mixture of dirt and wooden fragments, and his body still throbbed from the impact of his abrupt dodge. He shielded his mouth and nose with his forearm while scanning his surroundings.
Spectators had begun gathering around the destroyed wagon. Their eyes flickered with fear, curiosity, and caution. Not a single one dared step closer. No one wanted to risk involvement in a situation like this—not when the cause of the commotion remained unknown and potentially dangerous.
When Ryan looked toward the city gate, he noticed that several guards were already moving. Some rushed toward the scene while others hurriedly dispatched messengers deeper into the city, likely to call for reinforcements or alert higher authorities. Even so, the guards hesitated to fully approach, uncertain whether the threat was still active.
"Keep everyone safe!" Ryan barked sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Don't enter the area! I'll handle this for now—just make sure the civilians stay back!"
The guards exchanged glances but caught onto his meaning quickly. They immediately shifted their focus to pushing the crowd back to a safer distance. The spectators obeyed without resistance, sensing the tension in the air.
Once Ryan confirmed that innocent bystanders were out of immediate danger, he finally turned his attention toward the culprit behind this sudden attack.
And there—standing openly in the street—was a broad‑shouldered, bulky man with an unmistakable smirk plastered across his face. As if mocking Ryan.
Who the hell is this man?! Is he insane to attack in broad daylight?
From the stranger's posture alone, Ryan could tell the man wasn't trying to conceal his identity or kill him outright. Instead, he seemed almost eager—delighted even—to provoke a confrontation.
He's not here to assassinate… he just wants a fight.
Great. Just what I needed: a lunatic who likes causing public scenes.
Ryan's jaw tightened. He drew his sword from its scabbard in one smooth motion and pointed it directly at the arrogant intruder. The lingering sting of dust in his lungs only fueled his irritation.
The man merely grinned wider, as though satisfied that Ryan had taken the bait.
Wonderful, Ryan thought dryly. Of all the things to happen today…
Even though Ryan could defend himself well enough, he was still an unfamiliar figure in this region. Here, he carried no official position, no influence, no authority—nothing to vouch for him except his own strength. And while strength mattered, so did politics.
Scarlette, however, had both.
It would be better if Scarlette comes back soon… he thought, his grip tightening around his sword hilt. I don't want this situation misunderstood as me causing trouble.
Back where he came from, the matter would've already ended. His identity alone would've been enough to silence any attacker and force a clear resolution. Here, though? He was just another outsider.
And outsiders were always at a disadvantage.
He wasn't planning to dump the problem onto Scarlette. But he did need someone reputable backing him up to verify whatever actions he might be forced to take. Especially when the fight ahead didn't look like a simple brawl.
I have a feeling this isn't just a street fight.
This smells like something bigger…
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Meanwhile, far from the commotion, Scarlette Overland walked through Mirken's bustling streets, asking a few locals for recommendations for inns where she and Ryan could stay for the night.
Mirken, being a small trade city, had several resting places scattered between merchant stalls and narrow alleys. But Scarlette had standards—and she wasn't the type to settle for any random inn without confirming its cleanliness, safety, and distance from potential disturbances.
After getting directions to a reputable lodging, she made a mental note to check it later.
Next, she headed for the apothecary.
Ryan's condition wasn't terrible, but the injuries he sustained from their sparring match still lingered. She had noticed the stiffness in his movements earlier. His mana still fluctuated unevenly, a sign that his inner circulation hadn't fully stabilized.
She could easily heal him with magic.
But revealing her abilities—especially her more unique ones—was out of the question.
People still don't know the full extent of what I can do. And that's how it should stay… for now.
She stepped inside the apothecary, scanning the shelves with sharp eyes. She picked out medicinal salves, herbs for muscle regeneration, and mild pain suppressants—nothing too rare, but enough to ensure Ryan would fully recover.
He doesn't need to know that I can heal him instantly anyway, she thought. It's better this way. Maintaining distance is safer.
Not only that—Scarlette couldn't forget who Ryan Wayne truly was.
I already know his real identity. Someone like him… I shouldn't care for at all.
Given their past, given the web of connections tied to his name, Scarlette logically knew she should keep him at arm's length. She had more than enough reason to cut ties or even abandon him.
But doing so would only raise suspicion.
If Ryan realized she knew more than she should, he would become cautious.
And that's the last thing I need.
Better to act unaware. Better to pretend to care. Let him lower his guard—just like before.
Still… she couldn't deny that yesterday's fight had gotten away from her. Her blood had surged. Her instincts sharpened. The thrill of combat clouded her restraint.
I went overboard; she admitted to herself.
I didn't control my bloodlust properly. It nearly seeped out.
It shouldn't have happened.
Yes, she kept it contained. Yes, she didn't let it devour her reason. But she still slipped. And for that, she mentally chastised herself.
Scarlette exhaled sharply, brushing away the thought.
After paying the shopkeeper and storing the items in her pouch, she stepped back onto the street—only to freeze mid‑stride.
A familiar presence appeared behind her.
Followed by a familiar—and irritatingly cheerful—voice.
"I never expected to see you here in Mirken City, Scarlette Overland!"
Scarlette's eyebrow twitched.
What in the name of Nexus is he doing here? And why in this city of all places?
She didn't turn around immediately. Her face remained blank, though internally she was swearing a storm.
"…."
Rolling her eyes, she exhaled heavily. Of all the people she did not want to encounter today, it had to be him.
Finally, after mentally preparing herself, she turned around.
There stood a young man with neatly styled auburn hair, sapphire‑colored eyes that sparkled with confidence, and a smile far too smug for his own good.
Just looking at him made her irritation spike.
This bastard… what now? I don't have time for his nonsense.
"Is there something you need, Commander Valehart?" Scarlette asked flatly, her tone devoid of warmth.
The man—clearly pleased she acknowledged him—tilted his head slightly, his smile widening.
Though he was in his late twenties, his youthful features made him look almost boyish. Many mistaken him for someone unacquainted with the burdens of adulthood.
Scarlette scoffed internally.
Tsk. It's no wonder this bastard is one of the sought‑after bachelor within the noble society. I don't understand why he hasn't married yet.
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