Obnoxious Foreigners

The village chief rushed in front of Hector, spreading his arms to shield Leopold and the others.

“Hector! What do you think you're doing?”

Hector grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “Chief, what are you saying? I'm just here to welcome our guests. What are you so nervous about?”

“Welcome? You welcome people with wooden clubs?” The chief's beard trembled with rage. “Get out of here! Take your men and scram! The village's affairs are none of your business!”

“Chief, have you forgotten something?” Hector patted his stomach, looking smug. “My father owns nearly fifty percent of this village's land. The grain in this village is all grown by our family!”

“Foreigners?” Hector spat on the ground. “Chief, when was the last time you brought outsiders back? Oh, right, it was that half-elf. This time is even better—you brought four at once.”

“What, are you expecting my family to feed them for you again?”

The village chief's mouth fell open. If Hector's family hadn't violently seized the land of those who had died, how could the village have ended up like this?

“You!” The chief's face turned beet red, too furious to speak.

Hector stood opposite him, hands on his hips with a smug “what are you going to do about it” expression. The thugs behind him joined in the jeering, their laughter harsh and vulgar.

“Enough,” Leopold said, brushing the dust off his clothes as he looked at Hector with pity.

Perhaps it was because his golden eyes shone unnaturally in the dimming light, or perhaps it was because he naturally carried the aura of a higher race, but Hector unconsciously swallowed hard.

“...Who are you?” Hector's voice dropped slightly, but he still kept his chin up. “You're from out of town, right? Do you know the rules?”

“Rules?” Leopold stopped two paces away from him and tilted his head. “Why don't you tell me? What rules?”

“The grain in this village is under my control! If you want to stay here, you have to pay rent. Three pounds of grain per person per day, or—” He grinned, his malicious gaze drifting toward Isabella for a brief moment, “you can pay with something else.”

Isabella lost her patience. Hector only felt a blur before his eyes. By the time he realized what had happened, one of the leering thugs behind him had been sent flying backward, crashing into the wooden fence by the roadside and instantly knocking him unconscious.

The remaining thugs froze in place, their wooden clubs and pitchforks still raised, but none of them had clearly seen what had just happened.

Hector spun around, the flesh on his face twitching. “You—”

“What did you say we could use to pay instead?” Isabella stood three paces behind him, her eyes burning with annoyance.

“Th-this...” The thugs instantly panicked.

“My, my, it seems your rules aren't all that impressive.” Leopold walked toward Hector.

“...W-who on earth are you people?” Terrified, Hector fell to the ground and scrambled backward.

“Since your rules don't work, would you like to hear mine?” Leopold continued to walk toward him.

“...You... you are monsters! Definitely monsters!” His voice cracked as he scrambled to his feet, stumbling back several steps.

“Call the guard!” The thugs scrambled and ran toward the village, shouting at the top of their lungs, “The guard! Quick, call the guard! There are monsters! There are monsters at the village entrance!”

“Mr. Leopold...” Oliver spoke up hesitantly from behind. “Should we first—”

“Don't worry.” Leopold stopped and smiled at Oliver. “We don't hurt good people.”

The village chief stood nearby, stomping his feet in anxiety as he watched Hector and his men run into the village. “Guests! You must leave quickly! Hector's family is in league with the guard!”

“Run, quickly! I can no longer control the guard—”

Before he could finish, a chaotic din of footsteps echoed from the end of the dirt road at the village entrance.

Seven or eight men wearing tattered leather armor ran over. The leader was a heavily bearded man with a rusty iron sword hanging from his waist. The men behind him held hoes, shovels, and even a hunting bow.

“Who's causing trouble here!” the bearded man bellowed before he even arrived.

Hector, as if catching a lifeline, scrambled and threw himself toward the bearded man. “Uncle! It's them! These outlanders beat up my men and even said they were going to steal the village's grain!”

“Their gear is even worse than those goblins,” Blake couldn't help but complain.

The bearded man rushed over. His gaze swept over the groaning thug on the ground, took in Hector's pathetic state, and finally landed on Leopold's group.

“You're the ones who beat up my nephew's men?” He drew his rusty sword halfway. “Outsiders, do you not know the rules?”

“Rules again,” Leopold sighed. “Do you villagers have any other words in your vocabulary besides ‘rules’?”

“Cut the crap!” The bearded man drew his sword completely. “You people either pay up to apologize, or come with me to the guardhouse. Take your pick.”

Beside him, Blake burst into laughter. “That sword... is so rusty. Don't you feel embarrassed drawing it?”

The bearded man's face turned the color of pig liver. “You motherf—”

Leopold waved his hand, and the shadow beneath him instantly wrapped around the bearded man's legs. With his sword still raised in midair, the man found himself completely unable to move.

“You...” The bearded man's voice caught in his throat. He looked down at the black shadow slowly crawling up his legs, his lips trembling.

The people beside him were also instantly frozen in place by ice that had materialized out of nowhere, seemingly the work of the grayish-blue-haired youth. It was over—he had clearly provoked someone he shouldn't have!

“I-I have nothing to do with him! Truly, nothing at all!” The bearded man pointed at Hector, his voice hurried and trembling.

“I'm just the one in charge of the village's security. He has n-no relationship with my family! I... I was just momentarily muddled and wanted to swindle some things from you. I was wrong! I was wrong!”

“Uncle, what are you saying?” Hector cried out in panic. His feet were frozen to the ground, leaving him unable to run even if he wanted to.

“Shut up! Since when did I have a nephew like you!” The bearded man's face went from red to white, then from white to blue. Finally, he looked up at Leopold, his lips trembling.

“A misunderstanding... this is all a misunderstanding.”

“This esteemed lord... it was my blind eyes that failed to recognize your greatness... I will take my men and scram right now, and we will never appear before you again!”

“Didn't you say you wanted us to pay to apologize just now?” Leopold tilted his head.

“No need, no need!” The bearded man shook his head like a rattle. “I was just talking nonsense earlier! My mouth deserves to be slapped! It deserves to be slapped!”

“And what about your nephew saying we had to pay rent?”

Without hesitation, the bearded man spun his head and glared at Hector. “I don't have a nephew! I have absolutely no relation to their family!”

“Uncle—no, Captain of the Guard! You can't do this—”

“Shut up!” The bearded man spun around and roared, his spit flying all over Hector's face. “If you dare say another word, I'll tie you up myself and throw you into the cellar for three days!”

Hector finally shut his mouth.

Leopold stared at him for two seconds before waving his hand. The shadows retreated from the bearded man's legs. Blake also snapped his fingers, and the ice around Hector's feet shattered.

The moment the bearded man regained his freedom, he immediately bent down to pick up his rusty sword from the ground. Disregarding how much mud was on it, he hurriedly shoved it back into the scabbard at his waist.

He then bowed deeply to Leopold, then to Blake, then to Isabella, and finally, he even bowed to Oliver.

“Esteemed lords... I will leave immediately! In the future, if anyone in the village dares to disrespect you, I will be the first to deal with them!”

The bearded man and his subordinates scrambled and vanished from the village entrance, and Hector was dragged away by his collar by his uncle.

Ahem. Leopold cleared his throat. He walked toward the village chief and pulled out the badge they had found in the forest.

“Chief, I think we need to talk about some serious business...”