Time itself seemed to halt for everyone present.

The abrupt and brutal demise of their leader left the remaining four men in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events. One moment, their leader was engaged in conversation with the innkeeper, and in the next, his head exploded in a shower of gore, leaving behind a heartless corpse on the inn's floor—a macabre spectacle that froze the witnesses in disbelief.

Bjorn instantly raised his awareness, ready to spring into action to aid his father. Not that Olaf needed it, but like a good son, Bjorn would do it. It was one of the lessons that his father taught him: never underestimate your opponent, use your full strength to crush even an ant.

Meanwhile, Balin, momentarily distracted from examining Nightfall, was wide-eyed and confused, his attention now diverted by the headless corpse.

Contrary to the grim atmosphere, Helga, the innkeeper, appeared remarkably unfazed. The gruesome scene seemed almost mundane to her as if she had grown accustomed to such violence.

In fact, practical concerns took precedence in her mind; she pondered who would clean the mess and fretted over potential damage to her inn if her brother succumbed to the thrill of battle.

Olaf glanced at Aron from the corner of his eyes and smiled. From this action alone, Olaf formed a good idea of Aron's character. He was proud to think that he had a keen eye for people. After all, Olaf is a general and the right hand of the king of Volskar. Training warriors is his job, a job that allows him to see and interact with different kinds of people.

"Dead or Alive?" Aron suddenly asked while focusing on the two men at his side.

"Hmmm…" Olaf thought for a moment before answering, "Dead."

The tension in the room escalated as the four men exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of their fate.

"Leave one alive, Father," Bjorn quickly injected. He knew that his father would kill them all, and apparently, Aron shared the same mindset. But Bjorn wanted to know who was behind them.

'No one dares to threaten my aunt while I'm alive.' Helga is like a second mother to Bjorn. In fact, she's much more than that. She's the one who raised him after his mother died, treating him like her own child. He will kill for her literally, as he plans to do after he gets the information he needs.

Aron and Olaf heard him but chose not to respond. Instead, they glanced at each other and spoke at the same time

""Two for you, and two for me""

""Okay""

Crack. Crack.

Both cracked their knuckles and with sinister grins, they immediately dashed toward the four men. Olaf took the two men on the right, one a spear user and the other a hunter using a bow and daggers.

Aron's opponent, on the other hand, was a full-plate man with a massive steel shield of his size; he also wielded a spear in his right. The man behind him was clearly a mage or spellcaster, as some like to call them.

Deciding to eliminate the spellcaster first, Aron dashed toward him. However, the heavily armed man stood in his way, hiding behind his massive shield and trying to pierce Aron with his spear.

Aron almost shouted in anger at the heavy man; his attack was basic and his speed was extremely slow. To Aron, it felt like the man was underestimating him. Aron was sure that if he got hit by this pathetic attack, he would just kill himself from the embarrassment.

Aron dodged to the right side, avoiding the spear's head. With his left hand, he grabbed the spear and with force, pulled the heavily plated man to him.

"What!" The man was caught off guard; he didn't expect Aron to be able to pull him considering how heavy he was. He saw a fist coming his way and immediately blocked it with his shield.

The impact of the blow was so hard, almost caused the plated man to fall on one knee. However, being a guardian, he could absorb such impact for a long time.

Aron smiled when he saw the man still standing. Honestly, he barely put much strength in his fist; he was just testing the man and his limits. Why, you may ask? I don't know… you can call it taking interest or trying to enjoy the fight, but it's clear as day that Aron is letting out some steam on the poor man.

Hit after hit, Aron didn't stop his assault. The guardian couldn't take it anymore and fell on one knee. At that moment, Aron gathered some of his mana in his fist. He wanted to see if he could break this shield like he did with Josh's enchanted shield, correction he wanted to break it. Breaking things is the best thing to do to relieve some stress.

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In the next moment, the mana around his fist got more intense and potent.

This sudden increase in the quality of mana caught the attention of the mage who was in the process of chanting incantation. However, when he saw the mana around Aron's fist, he immediately canceled his channeling and used one of his emergency scrolls.

The scroll placed a protective barrier around the guardian like a shell, absorbing Aron's mana when he tried to punch the shield.

Aron raised an eyebrow seeing a yellow barrier absorbing his mana. He glanced at the mage and saw a smirk on his face.

"This is a high-tier barrier made by me. Someone like you won't be able to break it," he said with confidence, raising his chest out.

Aron widened his eyes in surprise. Not because of the provoking words that he can't break the barrier; he can if he punches it enough while infusing his fists with mana, or he can use Python or Nightfall. However, what surprised him was another thing entirely.

'I made it, he said.'

Aron gazed at the mage for what seemed like hours without even blinking. Aron's mind at that moment raced with countless possibilities only he knew the extent of. Just thinking about it made Aron display one of the most terrifying smiles that the mage had ever seen.

The way that Aron looked at him was not of hatred or anger, no…no, it was like when someone found something interesting or when they found something that they knew would serve them well.

That caused a shiver to run down the mage's spine. He didn't like that creepy smile because he knew it well. This smile was born of a realization, and the mage was suddenly aware that he might have just made a grave mistake.

Meanwhile, Olaf was having more fun with the two remaining opponents, dodging the attacks of the spear wielder and sometimes the sneak attacks from the hunter. Olaf didn't allow him to use his bow, not even once. Whenever the hunter tried, he immediately found Olaf next to him with a punch in the face or a kick in the stomach. Olaf won't allow a single arrow to fly inside the inn, not with his sister inside.

As for the spear wielder, Olaf was having a different kind of fun. Since the spear is made from metal, Olaf was sending some electrical shockwaves each time he touched the spear while dodging, and every single time, he would raise the power a little.

Why did he do that? It's pretty simple. He wanted to know how far the man could take before falling.

Bjorn instantly recognized his father's actions. Unconsciously his body shivered slightly. For a moment, he felt bad for the spear warrior because he experienced the same treatment during his training, and that didn't end well.

Balin, on the other hand, was holding Nightfall with both hands, waiting for a chance to throw it to Aron. He knew that the Greataxe was a Blood weapon, and he knew how powerful it could be. Blood weapons are linked to their chosen master; they grow in power together. The master will always have a suitable weapon that he can use to unleash his full power.

Balin was watching Aron like a hawk, and when he saw him raising his right hand in the air, Balin took it as a signal for Nightfall. He prepared himself to throw it but seeing a black smoke coming out from Aron's hand, he stopped.

The black smoke started to transform into something solid. Balin watched with awe as a black Greatsword began to appear in Aron's hand.

A blade of pure darkness like a moonless night, coming out from a world-devouring serpent, that's what Balin thought. He couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement.

The sword was both powerful and beautiful. It may look simple in design; however, as a blacksmith, Balin can recognize a work of art when he sees it.

Both the guardian and the mage's expressions paled, seeing a powerful Greatsword appearing from nowhere and the sinister grin on Aron's face, they knew what would come.

…

"Wait for me, Cedric," a man yelled at his friend who was slightly ahead of him.

"Can you at least explain to me?" he asked.

Cedric kept walking with quick steps toward a certain building.

"Two men came to report a potential fight in the inn. The captain sent me to investigate," he glanced back at his friend with a sly smile.

"And you know I won't go alone, so I have to drag you with me."

The two of them were the town's guard, wearing similar armor, a chest plate made from the finest steel, a sturdy helmet to protect their heads along with the usual steel gauntlets, greaves, and steel swords. Only Cedric had a round shield on his back.

Both guards wore a tunic over their armor, the tunic was in red with the Larton emblem in the middle, a circle with four stars inside.

The two guards stood at the entrance of the Drunken Chef Inn. They could hear the sound of things breaking and… a man's scream?

"Shit! They are already fighting."

Cedric didn't hesitate to barge in. Being a guard in this town, it's his job to keep the peace no matter the cost. Also, fights inside inns usually end with one or more getting killed. He kicked the door, swung it open, drew his sword, and shouted.

"EVERYONE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND… Stop this… madness?" His voice trailed off at the end.

His friend entered after him. He immediately halted his steps, looking shocked. The scene that greeted them was one of chaos and violence.

A headless corpse in the middle of the inn with blood and pieces of flesh everywhere.

But Cedric didn't care about the corpse; No he cared about the fight, more specifically the two men who were fighting against two each.

One he recognized instantly.

"Earl Olaf? What's he doing here?"

But when his eyes laid on the second man, his face went pale.

"It's him! Why is he here?"

His friend was confused seeing Cedric's expression. He followed with his eyes to where he was looking, and when he saw Aron, he unconsciously grabbed his butt.

"Damn! I don't want to shit my pants again."

"Me too," Cedric agreed.

These two guards were the ones that Aron met the first day, the ones that stood at the gate. Their encounter with him ended with them shitting their pants out of fear, when Aron released his dark aura against them, the memory of a massive shadow with flaming crimson eyes and a mouth full of teeth still haunting their dreams.

"What are we going to do?" the other guard asked.

Ahh?... L-Let's just wait until they finish. O-Okay?" Cedric suggested.

"Y-Yes! Let's just do that."