This fight was nothing like Mican had ever experienced before in scuffles in his home world. There was no squaring up, useless chatter, nor any intimidation of any kind.

There was only a slight silence, before the sounds of weapons being swung began whistling through the air.

An arrow flew towards Mican’s head, and with that signal, two figures began charging towards the young man.

Reacting quickly, Mican raised his arm towards his side, and the arrow struck into his shoulder, making a loud thud.

Mican easily shrugged the arrow off, but as it clattered to the ground, dirt and dust sprayed up as Brewster came skidding to a halt, raising his war-hammer and swinging it down towards the young man’s head, creating a loud whoosh and blowing out air.

Brewster’s eyes widened as he watched the young man, who was completely unfazed by the prepared attack strategy. He had expected the man named Mican to be tough, but not so tough as to completely ignore an arrow shot at close range.

His momentum far too high to draw back his blow, the middle-aged man was forced to fully commit to the swing.

As his arms were high in the air, he could only watch as Mican, with his shoulder still up, taking advantage of the wide gap given by the hefty swing, shove himself into Brewster’s chest, bashing him with his shoulder.

Usually, the window for a heavy blow would have been more than sufficient had the opponent been affected in any way by the arrow.

A flittering figure had been rushing behind Brewster, dashing to Mican’s side with two long knives drawn out. It was Maribel, executing the attack strategy behind her party leader.

As she sprinted forward, preparing to shove both of her blades into their opponent’s side, a shadow blasted past her, flying through the air and kicking up dirt and grass.

Stunned, she stopped short in her tracks, swiveling her head to follow the figure that she had recognized to be Brewster fly past her in the air in an almost comical manner, crashing into the horse of the second knight.

Multiple large cracks sounded out along with the pained scream of a horse, as some of its bones shattered and it fell to the ground, its rider along with it.

Quickly realizing her mistake, Mirabel turned towards Mican immediately, but he had grasped the split second of time he had been given and Mirabel had only just enough time to put up both of her daggers in front of her body as a heavy kick was sent flying her way.

A heavy thud reverberated in the clearing as another party member was sent flying, hitting the ground in a rough tumble, rolling a fair distance to break her momentum.

Groaning, Mirabel lay there on the ground, several meters away from the wagon. Her daggers were completely warped out of shape from the massive blunt trauma, and she felt a nasty bruise forming on her ribs.

“Stop! Don’t take him on conventionally, I am raising his threat to be of the large class, maybe even B ranked in strength. Don’t underestimate him!” Shocked, the Scholar named Leigh gave out a short and concise warning.

Looking at his old friend and party leader who has lying on his side, struggling to even breath, Leigh immediately took control of the party. He backed up several steps, distancing himself from Mican, and began pointing his staff to-and-fro.

“Stall him while I craft a spell of slowness and try not to engage him in direct combat.” After uttering these words, the scholar began chanting under his breath.

Multiple arrows whistled through the air as Erving grabbed at the quiver on his back, firing in quick succession.

The majority of the arrows missed, but several slammed into his body, creating rough bruises and breaking any momentum he would have had.

He grunted once, leaning his upper body down and balancing himself on the balls of his feet, lowering his center of gravity. Putting his arms out in front of his body, the young man charged towards the archer.

Heavy steps thudded out as Mican instantly caught up with Erving, trying to grab at him with his arms.

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Large beads of cold sweat flew off of the ranger’s face as he ducked and rolled, dodging multiple attempts of grappling. He knew that if he was caught for even one second with Mican’s ungodly strength, it would be the end of him.

Lunging forward on his feet, Mican threw himself at Erving, managing to catch the latter by the center of his cloak, tugging hard.

A tearing ripped out as the cloak tore halfway from Erving’s body, but Mican had managed to catch nothing. The ranger stood a little ways away with clenched teeth, panting heavily as cold sweat dripped off his face. A long hunting knife was in his hand which he had used to slash at his cloak before the worst came to pass.

Mican nearly stumbled to the ground from the unexpected situation, skidding on his hand and swerving his head up to meet the ranger’s gaze.

Furious, the young man stood up and put his arms up in a boxing position, fists shooting out towards Erving.

“Gah!” A loud cry sounded out as the archer struggled, swinging his body in all four cardinal directions to avoid the heavy blows.

Dirt sprayed up as the young man fumbled around, only narrowly avoiding Mican’s fists. The hair on his neck stood straight up with every close brush with death he had. Only a mere few short seconds had passed by, but to the young archer, it felt like hours.

The sharp shattering sound of glass breaking pierced the air, as a vial broke over Mican’s head. A small amount of viscous green liquid splattered onto Mican, and a sharp smell pierced his nose.

A dangerous feeling filled him as he recognized the liquid to be poison, and he shook it off of himself, caring for the openings on his body.

Turning around sharply, Mican’s eyes swept the clearing for the source.

A red-haired woman stood there in the young man’s view, several meters in front of the wagon. She was hunched over and was grabbing her stomach, clearly in heavy pain.

A little bit of blood dribbled down the side of her mouth, and she was carrying a small crossbow in her hands, aiming it at Mican.

“The priest can run, but the church won’t run with him.” Feeling anger building inside of him, the young man turned his gaze towards the collapsed Brewster.

“No!”

Both of the party members eyes widened as they watched Mican begin walking up towards their fallen companion.

Maribel began hopping towards her party leader in an attempt to intercept the young man, but this was exactly what he wanted.

Before Mican could reach either of them a large and exquisitely designed golden mace emanating a bright golden light was swung his way from the side, slamming into him, launching him into the ground.

The priest, Johnathan, had dismounted from his horse, standing in front of the bruised team as if their last bastion.

Mirabel took advantage of the brief respite and ran behind the priest, taking out a red vial from underneath her cloak, carefully administering it to the fallen party leader. Even as she was doing this, her teeth clenched from pain and blood dripped from the side of her mouth.

“Halt, demon-” The priest’s hands never stopped for a single moment, raising his glowing mace once again in Mican’s direction.”-Do not go after my friends, or I will send you back to the pit from where hence you came.”

“My lord, stop!” A new, deep voice sounded out into the air, a yell pleading for the blonde-haired man to stop.

The source of the voice came from the fully armored knight, the one that was closely following Johnathan the entire time. This knight was also the one who was knocked down into the ground after Brewster had hit his horse.

He was in a kneeling position, his hand on his chest, panting heavily. He pleaded in a hoarse cry for the priest to stop, but it was too late.

A fist shot out in full momentum as Mican, still on the ground, struck his left hand out towards the head of the glowing mace that was being swung towards him. He did not want to give the priest any sort of momentum in the fight.

The yell of the knight was interrupted by a horrible crack that seemed to echo out into the plains, along with a blast of hot air that projected out from the source of the impact.

“Arghhhh!” Mican cried out in agony as his fist that met the mace were crushed under its momentum, his fingers splaying out uselessly.

The priest was not spared either though, the mace being launched out of his grip into the sky, thudding into the ground a few moments later.

The blonde-haired man’s hands trembled, a shock running through his body. The tremor was so strong it almost felt as if his teeth were chattering, and he stood there on the spot stunned.

The sheer strength of the impact had concussed the man’s muscles, Mican having completely outclassed him in terms of strength.

Recovering quickly, Mican struggled to his feet, standing up and taking the opportunity to rush towards the priest.

“NO!”

A cry resounded out, but Mican paid it no heed, punching out towards the blonde-haired man’s chest with his unbroken hand.

The sound of flesh being torn and bones being broken resounded out, and a spray of blood painted the ground several feet behind Johnathan as Mican’s hand punctured straight through his chest. Him arm buried deep down into the former’s body, down to his bicep.

Blood spurted out from the priest’s front as Mican pulled his arm back out, splashing onto the dirt, the scent of it filling the air.

The figure of the kneeling knight could be seen fully through the gaping hole in Johnathan’s chest. While Mican could not make out his expression due to the full helmet, he could instinctively tell that it was one of horror.

Blood and innards gushed out onto the ground as the priest collapsed onto his knees, his jaw slack and his breathing halted. The red fluid completely covered Mican’s arm, and the stench clung to his nostrils.

He gave a deep look into the blonde-haired man’s empty gaze, and his eyes quivered slightly.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE JUST DONE?!” A guttural roar erupted from the knight as he began forcing himself back onto his feet.

Taking a deep breath, Mican reached down with slow and deliberate movements, picking the golden mace up.

With his face emotionless, he turned his gaze towards the outraged knight.