"What in the world is happening?!"
A burly man, his body covered in well-defined muscles, emerged and demanded loudly.
"Honorable Lord Berserk Lion, this individual just launched an attack on our comrades,"
a mercenary explained deferentially.
The man known as the Berserk Lion widened his eyes and immediately directed his gaze towards Glen.
He took long, forceful strides, roughly shoving aside the group of mercenaries, and advanced directly towards Glen, his nose almost touching Glen's.
"You spineless wretch, are you seeking trouble?"
The foul odor of his breath assailed Glen's face. Glen immediately responded with a headbutt. Caught off guard and towering over Glen, the man fell backward, blood spurting from his nose.
"With such foul breath, why get so close? What's wrong with you?" Glen waved his hand in front of his nose, his expression one of revulsion.
No one had anticipated that this young man would dare to retaliate while surrounded by so many. Instantly, the crowd grew restless and attempted to rush forward as one.
The man who had been sent flying rose to his feet, wiped the blood from his nose, and the veins on his forehead stood out in stark relief. He looked as if he were on the verge of rushing forward to tear Glen apart.
"You will pay a dearly for this!" he exclaimed, snatching a weapon from a nearby individual and preparing to charge.
However, another man's shout rang out from within the camp.
"What is all this commotion about?!"
The scene quieted down once again, if only slightly.
Three individuals emerged: two women and a man, all attired in the typical garb of mercenaries.
The one who had just spoken was the man with long hair positioned in the center. He boasted striking facial features with well-defined contours, and a faint, scarcely noticeable scar adorned the corner of his eye.
The two remaining women exuded a somewhat barbaric air. Their limbs were prominently muscular, even more so than those of the average man, yet their figures were remarkably well-proportioned, devoid of any sense of awkwardness.
"Norman! This brat just attacked our men! He even struck me! Look at my nose!"
The Berserk Lion pointed at his bleeding nose and roared in a gruff voice.
Upon seeing his state, the two female warriors immediately burst into unrestrained laughter, clutching their stomachs and paying no heed to their appearance.
"Hahaha... Berserk Lion, this look suits you rather well. You might even want to express your gratitude to this gentleman, hahaha..."
One of the female warriors jeered as she laughed.
"You wretched harpy, Red Lizard! If you continue to laugh, I will challenge you to a duel."
The Berserk Lion bellowed furiously, pointing at the female warrior who had taunted him.
"Enough! Stop this nonsense!" The long-haired man named Norman rebuked.
The two female warriors then covered their mouths, though their shoulders continued to quiver slightly.
Norman turned his gaze towards Glen and observed the latter taking out a pocket watch and glancing at it, seemingly indifferent to their presence.
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"Why did you attack our people?"
Upon realizing that he was being addressed, Glen let out a laugh. "First, you answer me why they obstructed my cart."
As he spoke, he pointed at the two mercenaries who had been on sentry duty and had stopped his cart, now being supported by their comrades.
Norman more or less surmised the sequence of events. He was well aware of the nature of his subordinates. Nevertheless, this matter concerned the reputation of the entire mercenary group. Even if his men were at fault, they had to maintain a superior stance.
"Perhaps they were in the wrong, but your actions were excessive. It would be advisable for you to offer some compensation and then apologize. We will then consider this incident as if it never occurred, and we will allow you to leave."
"Norman, how can we let him off so easily!" The Berserk Lion protested vehemently.
Before Norman could respond, Glen replied without hesitation:
"Absolutely not."
Everyone fixed Glen with looks of loathing, regarding him as a fool who failed to understand the situation, arrogantly believing himself to be superior simply because he possessed some martial skills.
"Norman, you heard him. This spineless cur is asking for it!"
The Berserk Lion pointed at Glen.
"Why waste any more words with him? He has already attacked our men. How can we allow him to depart unhindered? Seize him at once!"
One of the female warriors retrieved the greatsword she had been carrying on her back and said menacingly.
If Norman could have discerned Glen's true strength, he would have already ordered his men to take action. Just now, he was merely testing Glen with his words.
Observing the other's calm demeanor, it was evident that Glen was confident in his abilities. If they were to provoke the wrong person, it could spell disaster.
However, he did not have complete control over this mercenary group. The two female warriors and the Berserk Lion were all brawn without much brains.
If he were to back down, he would lose his influence in the future. They would ostracize him and even hold him in contempt.
This was indeed a predicament.
It seemed that only the one named Norman possessed any sense, but the others were not particularly obedient. Let me give you a little nudge... Glen noticed Norman's hesitation and deduced the situation.
He then taunted, "What's the matter? Are you afraid? If so, step aside and do not waste my time."
Like igniting a powder keg, the two female warriors and the Berserk Lion charged forward with their weapons without uttering a word.
Glen slapped the rump of the large deer, and the deer-drawn cart swiftly moved to the side.
The Berserk Lion was the first to approach, roaring as he thrust a spear towards Glen.
From his explosive power, it was evident that he was a second-level warrior.
Glen slightly shifted his body to the side, simultaneously pushing the spear away with his palm, and then delivering a powerful punch with his other hand, striking the Berserk Lion directly in the left eye.
The Berserk Lion let out a scream and flew sideways, knocking down a group of mercenaries.
As the next female warrior was about to raise her sword to strike, Glen stepped forward with his right foot and executed a gentle sweeping kick.
The female warrior immediately lost her balance and fell to the side. However, her ankle was seized, and then a powerful force yanked her.
Glen swung the female warrior around his head twice, much like swinging a lasso, and then hurled her away.
The last female warrior leaped high into the air and brought her greatsword down with a powerful slash!
Glen simply made a "V" sign with his fingers, and the greatsword landed precisely between them. As he clamped his fingers down, the greatsword seemed to freeze, unable to move any further.
No matter how strenuously the female warrior attempted to withdraw the sword, she could not budge it an inch.
Glen slowly rotated his wrist, causing the greatsword to tilt to one side.
He smiled at the female warrior, whose face was flushed from exertion, and then, with a bit more pressure from his two fingers, a distinct crack appeared on the greatsword.
"This is impossible..." The female warrior's eyes widened in disbelief.
But in the end, the greatsword was snapped in two, and she plopped down onto the ground.
The two who had been knocked flying and thrown out moments ago still desired to rush forward and continue the attack, but upon witnessing this extraordinary scene, they halted in their tracks.
Glen placed his hand on the shoulder of the female warrior lying on the ground.
The woman's body shuddered, and then she was lifted to her feet by the shoulder.
"Do you still wish to fight?" Glen inquired.
The female warrior seemed to be in a state of shock, offering no response.
"It appears you do." Glen then grasped her neck and hoisted her into the air.
Experiencing the agony of suffocation, the female warrior kicked her legs wildly, but with no purchase, her face turned a deep shade of red.
"We yield! Cease this!" Norman quickly intervened.
Glen then released his grip, and the female warrior dropped to the ground, coughing incessantly, filled with a sense of relief at having escaped peril.
The entire mercenary group was compelled to acknowledge that they had encountered a formidable opponent. The arrogance they had displayed earlier had vanished without a trace.
Glen then turned to the Berserk Lion. "Do you still wish to fight?"
The Berserk Lion swallowed hard and did not respond immediately.
His disposition made it difficult for him to admit defeat readily.
But Glen assumed that he still intended to fight. Thus, in a blur of speed that no one could clearly discern, he appeared before the Berserk Lion and seized his nose and mouth.
He lifted the Berserk Lion up in the same manner.