A sound of broken boards echoed across the room and chips of wood flew in all directions. Matt felt a sharp pain on his right cheek just before he finished moving to the side. An ax was now planted in the floor, exactly where his neck was.

 << Stand still! >> shouted that voice. Matt had heard it before, this time he was sure of it. << I will do it quickly. Just get your head cut off. >>

 << Like hell i will. >> said the boy, standing up. The pain on his back had not yet stopped but at least he could move.

A two-meter high warrior stood in front of him. He looked like a Viking from ancient Scandinavia, a long silver beard came down from his chin and his bald head was covered with runic tattoos. He pulled the ax off the floor and was wielding it with one hand. It was an ax the size of a halberd. A huge one. The unnamed opponent showed off his own power by releasing a slash against a barrel of wine by his side. The sound of crushed wood was heard, then a small river of red liquid began to flow on the floor. Pleased, the warrior growled in exultation towards the crowd that was gathering in a circle. Applause and shouts began to come from all directions.

 << Kill him! >> someone said, among the people who watched. << We want to see a good fight! >> someone else exclaimed. The tavern was crowded with people and all eyes were on the two. People had stopped drinking, all the mugs were resting on the tables and the innkeeper looked at the whole scene with disappointment, already knowing that he will have to ask for compensation for the imminent damages. Matt saw him whisper something to a girl next to him. Then he had seen the girl heading to the back and disappear behind a wooden door. Before he could even look at anything else, he had to duck down to dodge an empty mug that had been thrown at his face. The nameless warrior, who had done the deed, had to be content with hitting the face of a poor adventurer who had just crossed the threshold of the tavern. That knocked him out instantly. Another tavern-goer took advantage of the situation. He jumped on him, pulled his sword from its sheath and ran away in the confusion.

 << Hey! Don't ignore me. >> exclaimed the mighty opponent. << Don't make me wait any longer. You have no way out and i don't want my victory over you to be remembered because you did not deign to draw the weapon. >>

 << Didn't he tried to behead him by surprise, a moment ago? >> exclaimed another poor soul whose wine intoxication had exceeded the common sense which suggested not to contradict someone who is two meters tall and within arm's reach. The unfortunate soul was thrown towards one of the glassless windows and fell to the ground, disappearing from everyone's view.

 << Is there anyone else who does not understand the concept of honor between fighters? >> exclaimed the man, no one replied. The whole room was now silent. The concept was clear as a ray of sunshine. << Take the sword. Now. >> he insisted.

 << All right. We fight. I got tired of you. >> Matt slipped the curved greatsword from its sheath and held it with both hands. << I have no idea what is happening but i have no time to waste. And you are on my way. >> he threw himself at the man, the blade raised and ready to descend in a vertical slash. He intended to end the fight with a single attack. Having solved that stupid formality, he would inquire about where he was and what to do in order to pursue his personal agenda.

 But arrogance is a castle made of cards, a breath of wind is enough to make it collapse.

 Before Matt could reach the warrior, this one had raised his mighty ax. It sliced through the air, generating a gust that cut the boy's blade in two.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

 << ...what..? >> Matt stopped, he looked at the broken weapon. His mind was still processing what had happened when the warrior hit him in the face with his fist. A moment later his back had crashed into a wall. As if hit by the trunk of an oak thrown by a catapult, a veil of hallucinating pain devastated every part of his body. He tried to scream but his voice got stuck in his throat.

 Then he fell flat on the ground, eyes closed.

 << He made him fly! >> shouted the crowd, inciting the warrior with compliments. People began to laugh out loud, Matt could still hear them. He instinctively tried to move but his body didn't respond, his muscles had given up and his will had faded into the air like a cloud of smoke. << Is he really that weak? >> heard from someone. Then he began to hear heavy footsteps that gradually came closer. He felt the grip of a hand on his neck and his body was lifted off the ground. Unable to react, he was dragged to the center of the room. The warrior performed an heroic pose and exhibited Matt as a trophy in front of the amused crowd.

 << Here you are the famous "Tyrant", so much acclaimed and praised fighter! >> he shouted as a mockery. People laughed, someone threw pieces of food that hit the boy's face. Someone else began to insult him. << You failed so hard! >> Matt heard among the many sentences.

 << Did you want to be the champion? >> the warrior asked, continuing the mortifying tone. << Here. Allow me to crown you! >> Matt remained helpless, suspended in midair and held by the opponent's grip. He heard words in a blurry way, an order to take something from somewhere. He felt on the verge of fainting. << What?? No, don't miss the show! >> shouted the other, grabbing a mug of beer. << Here. >> he said, pouring the content on the boy's head. The crowd cheered again as Matt began to feel nauseated. He tried to lift his arms to free his neck but the other's grip was as safe as a steel claw. << Good! >> the man exclaimed, pleased. << Now you are ready. Come on, bring it here! >> he said to someone in the crowd who came up with a bucket. A bucket that gave off a terrible smell. Matt could no longer see clearly, he was unable to understand what the content was.

 << The award ceremony begins! >> without hesitation, the warrior sank his hands into the container and took a handful of that disgusting substance. Then he spread it in a circle over Matt's head, amid the laughter of the public. << Ladies and gentlemen, here is the great winner! Clap your hands! Celebrate! It's a great day to remember! >> he exclaimed. Finished the ritual mocking, he finally decided to let go of his neck, making it fall to the floor.

 Matt's head was a whirlwind of questions, pain and frustration. He began to vomit on the floor, adding further laughter from the audience and shame on himself. Eyes shining with the desire to cry and an expression full of resentment and anger. He tried to force his arms to get up but remained on the ground as if pressed by an invisible boulder.

 << Well, gentlemen. >> the warrior looked at the audience. He held the mighty ax in both hands. << The brat has amused us enough. It's time to send him away. Goodbye, "Tyrant". You have been a pleasant pastime. Thanks for the reward you will make me earn. >>

 He raised the weapon and dropped it towards Matt. The boy closed his eyes.

 There was the loud noise of two blades impacting. He opened his eyes.

 The ax had been blocked by a broadsword before it hit the boy.

 << Not so fast. >> exclaimed a boy's voice. A very familiar one.

 << Matt! Are you alright? >> said another, a young girl.

 Matt heaved a sigh of relief.