“You useless grunts!” Croac snapped at his lackeys. “You can’t even arrest a little girl. I’ll handle her myself. All of you, seal every possible exit!”

It seemed that this man was different from the rest. Even Maven suddenly shivered before him. She had a feeling that this short man had the strength to equal at least ten grown men.

“What’s the matter, little kid? I bet you can feel the pressure of my power, heh?” Croac chaffed at her.

“Pardon me, but the greater pressure is the sight of your face. I happen to be allergic to frogs, ugh!”

Her retort thrusted right at Croac’s pride. “Huh! I'll begin by cutting off your insolent tongue!”

Croac le Toadt lively bounced around like the frog he was like, twisting his weapon unpredictably. It was his martial-art move, Frog Rolling a Shell.

Facing against this weird style, Maven didn’t immediately charge. She simply kept avoiding while learning the pattern of her foe. Left, right, left, right… I can recognize his jumping pattern! The next must be…

Maven focused all her energy, then quickly thrusted to the left with her move, Treacherous Stab. Her dagger only stabbed the air.

A moment later, it was the Baron’s weapon that grazed her back instead. She groaned in pain.

“Haha! Fooled you!” The frog face grinned wickedly, then stepped back to gather his strength. “Your mediocre fighting style is no match for the Le Toadts' hereditary style!”

“Ah, really. No wonder your ancestors passed it down only to frog faces like you.”

“Don’t give me another reason to chop your tongue off!” scolded the Baron as he charged again.

Without care to the scratch on her back, Maven reciprocated his advance. The more prepared Baron quickly commenced the same move as before, Frog Rolling a Shell. This time he did quicker, more unpredictable jumps.

Maven was confused for a moment. Then suddenly she began to mimic the jumps while thrusting toward her enemy very rapidly. Her dagger and Croac’s machete clashed loudly in the air. It didn’t took a second for both fighters to later land, facing opposite directions. They were five feet from each other.

The Baron, previously expressionless, began to show pain on his face. He covered his bloodied arm with the other hand.

“Do you really think you can fool me twice with the same move? You’ve underestimated me, sir,” Maven said as she turned around and pointed her pair of daggers, ready to make another attack. “But well, I don’t want to play with you any longer. Please, let me leave and we can forget about everything that has happened tonight. How about it?”

“Know your place!” The Baron snapped. “I’m the one in charge of the law here, not you! It doesn’t matter if you have failed, you have attempted a crime of robbery! And any crime, either commited or attempted shall be punished equally!”

“Hmm, looks like the only way out for me is to take you all down first. All right then!”

Maven dashed forward. This time she jumped as high as she could to pin her blade on the opponent’s back. This move was called the Cartwheel Stab.

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The fat, short man quickly parried it with his machete.

Then both of them continued to exchange blows and slashes, looking for another’s opening.

Noticing Maven’s wariness and tendency to be defensive, Croac began to put pressure on the girl with ever fiercer attacks. As he predicted, Maven simply kept blocking his attacks. The Baron eventually bounced and thrusted rapidly like a Frog Diving into the Pond.

Choosing reflexes over wit at the moment, Maven went straight to counterattack without preparing enough strength. It simply bounced her dagger back against her enemy’s harder machete. She was thrown away pretty far as a result.

The frog-faced Baron then bellowed, “You weakling! Now my finishing blow will send you to the afterlife!”

Croac rested his machete on one side. He knelt on the floor and breathed so hard to gather all the energy from his surroundings into his body. Slowly but surely, his obese figure swelled even more into a balloon-like shape. His face and cheek also swelled grotesquely.

The sound of Croac's breath became very loud like a gigantic frog's croak. It was the Wrath of the Frog God, the strongest move of Le Toadt style.

What to do? Maven wished she could just run away, but every possible exit had been sealed. She wanted to dodge, but the enemy’s focus kept following her move.

At the same time, the swollen Baron began to make the loudest croak, ever.

Croac bounced forward. He had mustered three times the strength that he used in his previous move. Avoiding him would be very hard, while pitting oneself against him would be suicide.

As the approaching energy wave from Croac's advance was about an inch away from Maven, she suddenly jumped. Then she landed her both knees on the Baron’s head. It destroyed his focus instantly. The inner strength that he had gathered became unstable and exploded. The Baron was thrown far away back.

However, Maven still received the power ripple of Croac’s energy and fell herself. Her body was shaking and she struggled to stand up again. She still couldn’t find any chance to escape.

On the other hand, Baron Le Toadt was still lying down on the floor, struggling to rise again. “Oh snap! My strongest attack was aborted just like that. I can’t accept this. I won’t accept this mockery! No one may insult me and get away with it! I shall kill you even if it means my own death!”

At the moment Croac managed to stand up and drew his machete. He the charged in anger toward the unprepared enemy. Maven countered her opponent's attack in similar courtesy. Without gathering her inner strength first she thrusted her blade straight towards the enemy.

She herself had lost her mind.

One of them would likely die… if not both.

“Stop!"

One shrill scream startled both fighters. Maven quickly bent her attack elsewhere. While the Baron reacted more slowly that he still landed a scratch on Maven’s arm.

Maven groaned in pain before slumping onto the floor. Holding onto her wounded arm, she lifted her head to see who had just screamed. It turned out to be the Baron’s daughter she had previously taken hostage.

Croac’s wife, a skinny and tall woman stood beside her daughter, stunned. Her concave face was pale.

The little girl shouted, “Enough! Please, stop this madness! Aren’t you both adults? Why must you risk your own live just to take down a single thief?”

“You don’t understand, sweety…” Her father tried to explain with softened voice. “This thief is being too hard to arrest! I have to risk my life…”

It was then Mrs. Le Toadt’s turn to yell, “If you die now, how about us? Don’t throw your life just for a single person!”

“Are you saying I should let this criminal go, huh? And bearing the shame of failing to catch a petty thief?” Croac protested.

“You have a lot of guards!” The wife reminded him. “Use them. If chivalry fails, use every possible way.”

Hearing that cunning advice, Baron complied. “You are right! Everyone, swarm that thief!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Dozens of people charged at once, hoping to contain the already wounded and exhausted Maven without much fight.

“You guys are lower then flies.” Maven responded. She then jumped as high as she could and flipped backwards, distracting the attackers. Some of them even collided with each other.

It appeared that Maven had already aimed for the door. She ran immediately, opened the door and made her escape.

“After her! After that thief! One hundred florins for everyone who catch her, dead or alive!” Florin is the official silver coin currency in the entire Continent of Aurelia.

Maven paid no longer attention to the Baron's faint yells. The elf thief simply ran away as fast as she could, until she was out of anyone's sight.