Kyra and Gabriel sat at the far end of the tavern at a round table, placing their gloves upon it as their eyes scanned the area. The tavern was dimly lit, with warm candles providing the source of lighting.

A warm cup of apple ale was swiftly placed before Kyra, the waitress giving her a wink before she left. The sound of music coated the atmosphere as the drunken singing of men and women followed suit.

Kyra wanted to down her drink and leave—her headache was getting worse the longer she stayed. Gabriel, on the other hand, was enjoying himself, having ordered three apple ales just to down them all. He had been given a mask the young swordsman had never seen before, and her interest was piqued when the prince placed it on, and it changed his appearance. Now here the young man was, with fair skin, brown eyes, and auburn-coloured hair.

“This was exactly what I needed.” The prince gleamed, moving his head around. Kyra let out a breath and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I can tell.” She replied, unimpressed. Gabriel looked at her and smirked.

“What’s with the displeasure all of a sudden?” He began. “If my memory serves me correctly, you wanted to come out for drinks.” He concluded.

Kyra let out another breath, then downed the glass of ale, burping afterwards. The golden-haired prince grimaced, wishing the woman before him had a little more grace than she displaced.

“If I knew a bunch of stinking drunks, who have bumped into our table a bunch of times, were going to be here, I would not have come. Not to mention I was initially meant to come out on my own before Isaac dumped you on me.” She replied, sulking. Gabriel let out a boyish laugh, banging his fist down at the table.

Kyra gave him a weird look. “It wasn’t that funny now, was it?” She spat, her headache growing worse.

Just as it couldn’t get any louder, the crowd erupted into a loud chorus, and their feet stomping became intense. Her brain didn’t have time to compute what happened next. Gabriel had grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the dance floor.

“Your training session is going to be a living nightmare if you don’t stop what you are doing!” Kyra exclaimed, trying her best to release her wrist from his grasp.

“Huh?!” Gabriel replied with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

“I said—!” Kyra began.

“Huh!?” Gabriel interrupted. This prompted the green-eyed girl to give up and accept her fate.

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The two reached the middle of the tavern, and after a while, the effects of the ale started to kick in. Soon enough, Kyra was linking arms with other patrions in the tavern and dancing.

Her laughter echoed around the place as he and Gabriel grabbed each other and began spinning around, their youthful, joyful laughter affecting everyone around them.

The door to the tavern slammed open, interrupting the music, the people, and the bright mood that had been created. Kyra and Gabriel looked over to the entrance, and a scowl grew on their faces as two rat-like men stood at the entrance.

A tall, lanky man and a short, stocky man. Both were bald-headed. They wore tattered tunics with red trousers, and broadswords were strapped to their hips.

The two men slowly walked into the tavern, and all hell broke loose. They kicked over tables, threatened staff members, poured glasses of ale onto the ground, and began scaring the customers.

The owner walked away from the bar area and tried to stop the two, but he was grabbed by the collar and thrown to the side. Gabriel wanted to intervene, and Kyra watched as he inched towards his mask.

With a swift move of her hand, she caught his wrist and shook her head.

“Stop them without revealing yourself.” She whispered. Gabriel looked down at her and looked back at the men. Thanks to the mask, he was much shorter than most people within the room, and that included Kyra.

Without the height and muscle mass he possessed, Gabriel truly didn’t believe he could be intimidating enough.

“We don’t have weapons, though.” He argued that the fear he was feeling was paralysing him.

“I taught hand-to-hand combat for a reason. A man who only relies on the sword is a fool.” She replied. Her stare was intense, unwavering, and unforgiving. This was Gabriel's first big idea of what he could do.

With a painful deep breath, he moved past the crowd and towards the two hoodlums, who were now seated at one of the round tables, messily eating a plate of nuts.

“You two need to leave.” The prince began. The blue-eyed men looked at him like he had a second head. They then looked at each other.

“Is this fella talking to us, Gordon?” The tall one said.

“He would be stupid to do so, Jordon.” The short one replied. The two men then erupted into ear-piercing laughter.

Gabriel, although embarrassed, held his ground. “You. two . need . to . leave." He repeated, enunciating each word.

Baam!

Gabriel was knocked backwards, his nose bleeding, as Jordan stood over him with his hands enclosed in a fist. The prince groaned, touching his nose as blood trickled down.

Kyra, witnessing the ordeal, whistled to herself and let out a nervous chuckle.

“I was not expecting that.” She thought to herself. She watched on as Gabriel slowly got up and threw a punch at Jordan. The taller man stumbled backwards and fell into the table—his own nose was now broken.

“No one messes with Jordan without getting smashed by me.” Gordon jumped up. He unsheathed his sword, and Kyra quickly jumped in.

{Would you like to engage in combat with the assailants? Yes/No} The green hologram appeared before her.

“Yes.” She quickly agreed.

{Combat engagement accepted. Defeat the two for 1200 XP. }

{Would you like to initiate no kill mode?}

Kyra pondered over it. She looked over at the costumes, the bar owner, the staff, and the prince. Did she want to traumatise the whole lot by killing two men before them? No, not really.

“Yes.” She answered.

{Initiating no kill mode. XP collections after assailants have a low health bar}

That was hardly anything. 1200 XP for her hard work in getting rid of scum. What a bother?" Kyra quickly kicks the man in the hip, throwing him towards the entrance. She then landed in a handstand and flipped forward. The young woman removed the cloak, revealing to the tavern her toned arms.

“I can take care of myself!” Gabriel argued, sounding like a spoiled brat. Kyra turned her head towards him and shook her head.

“I’m not taking the risk. I haven’t taught you to disarm weapons with your bare hands yet. It’s too dangerous.” She fired back. Gabriel knew she was right, so he stood back and watched her take on the men.

Jordon and Gordon got back on their feet and began their rapid attacks. They wielded their swords amateurishly. Kyra could calculate each move. When Jordan attacked on the right, Gordon went for the left. She just needed to time her attack perfectly.

What a drag!