In a secluded spot encircled and obscured by several towering trees, a group of burly men clad in servants' garb were guffawing boisterously beneath one of the trees, as if engrossed in some exceedingly entertaining affair.

"Pin them down! How dare they ruin my mood! Those repulsive commoners deserve to perish! Hang them up and thrash them mercilessly!"

Among this band of brawny men, there stood a curly - haired youth attired in more opulent garments than the rest, barking orders at these menacing retainers.

A gaunt old man and a girl with disheveled tresses were brutally knocked to the ground on the lawn by this group.

The emaciated old man, dressed in ragged clothes, struggled desperately, mumbling incoherently. Evidently not articulate, the words he uttered were often mispronounced, yet it was clear that he was hurling curses.

The girl, meanwhile, was in floods of tears. Most of her visage was hidden by her hair, and only her muffled sobs could be distinctly heard.

Upon seeing the lackeys, who were jesting and laughing, move to tie up the girl, the old man resisted with even greater ferocity. Several of the men attempting to subdue him were caught off - guard, and one of them was head - butted in the abdomen, emitting a cry of pain.

"You damned scoundrel!" The man who had been struck gritted his teeth and launched a barrage of punches and kicks at the enraged old man.

Just then...

"What in blazes are you doing!"

A sudden bellow startled everyone present, causing them to halt their actions in unison.

The men who were in the process of tying up the girl froze, their eyes scanning the surroundings in search of the source of the sound.

The curly - haired youth, who was the ringleader, was initially taken aback. His face then darkened, and he whirled around, his eyes ablaze with fury, and bellowed:

"Who's there! Show yourself! You cur!"

"Try cursing again if you dare!" Glen's voice resounded from above, prompting several of them to look up simultaneously.

Upon seeing a man who was both older and more robust than himself standing on the trunk of a large tree, the curly - haired youth, instead of backing down, launched into an even more vitriolic tirade.

"You lowly wretch! Scram this instant! Do you understand?! This has naught to do with you! You filthy beggar!"

In the face of these offensive words, Glen did not betray any anger. Instead, he sneered icily."If that's the way you wish to speak, then I have no choice but to come down and have a proper reckoning with you."

With that, he leaped down from the tree trunk and looked down upon the curly - haired youth.

The other party glared at Glen, still attempting to provoke him:

"Do you fancy a fight, you good - for - nothing! Do you know who my father is? You use..."

Before he could finish, his words were cut short by a sharp, resounding slap.

The burly men behind him, who had been watching with smug expressions, were left gaping in shock as they witnessed the curly - haired youth sent spinning one and a half times by the plain - clothed commoner's slap and crashing to the ground.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as everyone, including the old man and the girl still on the ground, was left stunned by the outrageous spectacle.

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Could it be that this commoner, so obviously of low birth, had actually dared to strike the noble Young Master Ravel?! This thought flashed through the minds of the lackeys in unison.

The eerie atmosphere persisted until the curly - haired youth on the ground, trembling, managed to rise to his feet.

Ravel wiped the corner of his mouth with a trembling hand. At the sight of the vivid blood, his eyes widened in disbelief. His lips quivered, and tears streamed down his face.

"Beat him to a pulp!" Ravel's heart - rending wail jolted the still - dazed lackeys back to their senses.

They suddenly realized.

The young master had been assaulted?!

They were certain to face severe punishment upon their return. The master's family doted on this young master immensely, and the consequences of this incident would be dire!

They could spare no thought for anything else. Their only option now was to capture this audacious commoner, who had dared to offend a noble, and use him as a scapegoat. Perhaps they might then receive a lighter sentence.

Seeing these brawny men charging towards him, roaring like madmen, Glen felt a surge of eagerness. He relished the prospect of teaching such individuals a lesson.

As screams of pain echoed one after another, the several menacing lackeys were soon sprawled on the ground, writhing in agony as they clutched their injured limbs.

"You... you! You're finished! I'm going to tell my father! I'm going to tell my mother!" With these tearful words, Ravel abandoned his lackeys on the ground and fled with remarkable speed.

"Mark my words! My name is Glen Nibankru! I reside in Bayek Town!" Glen shouted after him, while the other party was still within earshot.

Ravel, who was running, turned around. His face, swollen and streaked with tears, contorted into a malevolent expression. He fixed Glen with a baleful glare, determined to etch him in his memory.

Glen cast a fleeting glance at the old man and the girl on the ground and was on the verge of leaping onto the wall.

Just then, the battered old man, struggling to his feet, helped the girl up and called out to Glen,"W - wait a moment!"

Glen turned around, his eyes filled with bewilderment as he looked at the old man.

"You have... offended the nobility. They will surely... exact retribution upon you. Flee this place at once, abandon this town. The farther you escape... the better!" the gaunt man stammered in his earnest attempt to persuade.

Glen smiled and took another discerning look at the man before him. Instead of responding, he pointed at the girl and inquired, "Is this your daughter?"

The old man was momentarily taken aback, then nodded dumbly. "Yes, this is my daughter, Martha."

"You are a commendable father," Glen complimented with genuine admiration.

However, the old man grew anxious once more and said, "Kind sir, this... this is not the time for such pleasantries! You must flee without delay!"

Glen waved his hand dismissively. "There is no cause for concern. It is but a noble. I am more than capable of dealing with the situation. You need not worry on my behalf."

"Ah? Is that truly so?" The middle - aged man's words caught in his throat.

"Most certainly," Glen replied with unwavering confidence.

Glen indeed had every reason to be confident. He possessed formidable strength, and his former self had had numerous dealings with the so - called nobility. He had a profound understanding of their nature and knew precisely the extent of the power they could wield.

The guileless man seemed to be convinced by Glen's words and fell silent.

"Why did they assault you?" Glen asked, curiosity piqued.

The man let out a bitter smile. "The nobility require no justification to oppress commoners. I was accompanying my daughter to school. Our mere presence before them displeased them, and so we were subjected to their violence."

Hmm, just as I expected of the nobility... A look of disdain crossed Glen's face.

"Do you know Lila?" Glen suddenly asked the girl.

He surmised that since they attended the same school, there was a likelihood that she might be acquainted with her.

"Ah?" The girl looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. After a moment's reflection, she sniffled and said, "I am aware of her, but she does not know me. She is quite renowned in our school. Many boys hold her in high regard as their ideal sweetheart."

"I see..." Glen lowered his head, lost in thought. "Have you seen her recently?"

"Yes," the girl nodded. "Are you her friend?"

"I suppose so. I happened to be passing by and thought I'd pay her a visit."

The girl did not seem surprised. She sniffled and said, "Would you like me to go and fetch her for you?"

"No, thank you. Be cautious of that curly - haired fellow in the future. I shall take my leave now," Glen cautioned. Then he nimbly leaped onto the wall and disappeared from view.

"Curly - haired fellow?" The old man's mouth fell open slightly, while the girl beside him couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter through her tears.

...

At the entrance of the academy, Ravel seized the collar of a middle - aged man clad in a black uniform and roared, "Summon a carriage for me immediately! This instant! Otherwise, my father will make you pay a dearly."

"But... Young Master, the academy has its regulations. I am not permitted to leave at this time..." The middle - aged man, being manhandled by a youth of sixteen or seventeen, could only cower and stammer.

"You imbecile! I require a carriage! Did you not comprehend my words?! I wish to return home!" Ravel's face contorted with rage, heedless of the spittle that landed on the man's face.