Alaric saw Fredrinn arguing with a chubby man wearing a thick coat over his winter clothes.
“Do you even know who I am?!” The chubby man shouted at Fredrinn with a disdainful look on his face.
“Please stop being unreasonable. We paid for the lodgings here so you don’t have the right to kick us out.” Fredrinn responded while suppressing his anger.
The chubby man sneered. “Listen here, peasant. In this fortress city, my words are the laws! Do you hear me?”
Even without asking, Alaric could already tell what was going on.
There are many garbage within the noble circle. They use their status to oppress the weak, but during wartime, they are always the first ones to escape.
He muttered coldly in his heart. He hated this kind of people.
“Bring that lump of fat in front of me,” Alaric instructed in a flat tone.
Hearing his words, Arthur jumped down from his horse as he said. “Leave it to me, my lord.”
Arthur walked towards the chubby man, but he was stopped by the latter’s guards.
“Who are you? Are you one of these peasants?” The chubby man laughed condescendingly at Arthur.
“Sir Arthur!” Mark who was standing behind Fredrinn was pleasantly surprised when he saw Arthur.
Fredrinn also looked around and when he saw Alaric among the crowd, he was relieved. He knew that this matter would soon be taken care of.
Arthur was pissed off. If he could, he would have already unsheathed his sword to cut down this fat pig, but he held back his anger.
“Move aside if you don’t want things to escalate.” He warned the man’s guards.
“Who do you think you are?! Do you know who I am?!” The chubby man glared at Arthur fearlessly.
Arthur suddenly smiled, but because of his scars, his face looked incredibly terrifying. “Oh, please tell me who you are.” He muttered sarcastically.
“You!” The chubby man’s face shook with rage.
“Very well, listen closely old man.” He snorted.
“My name is Ryk Heinrich son of Smith Heinrich of Redonia!” His face was filled with arrogance when he mentioned his father’s name.
Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. The name sounds familiar for some reason.
Hold on… Smith Heinrich… Isn’t that Lord Dylan Heinrich’s father? Don’t tell me this is his brother…
A few months ago when House Silversword hosted a celebration for Alaric’s advancement, a man named Dylann Heinrich suggested an unofficial competition.
This particular young man left a mark on Arthur because of his impressive skills at his age.
“Why are you silent? Did you wet your pants, old man? Hahaha!” Ryk laughed mockingly.
Arthur shook his head and muttered derisively. “Who would have thought that Lord Dylann actually has a brother like you?”
“What did you say?!”
Ryk’s face darkened.
“Get that old man and beat him up for me!”
Just as his guards were about to grab Arthur, a nonchalant voice suddenly drifted into their ears.
“How disappointing. You don’t even have an ounce of your brother’s grace. You look absolutely nothing like him.”
Everyone turned their gazes and saw a young warrior on a horse slowly approaching Ryk.
“Lord Alaric!” Fredrinn, Mark, and Elaine greeted respectfully upon seeing him.
“You are…” Ryk frowned as he looked at the elegant young warrior. He felt that he had met a tough opponent this time, someone that he couldn’t afford to provoke. Even though he was furious after being mocked, he didn’t dare speak carelessly.
Looking at his elegant bearing, handsome looks, and graceful temperament, Ryk could tell that he was someone of notable status.
Alaric tapped the crest on his chest. It was the insignia of House Silversword.
“Do you not recognize this symbol?”
Ryk glanced at the crest and frowned, seemingly in deep thought.
“Pathetic. To think that you are a noble in the North, but you are this clueless. Lord Smith must be disappointed for a having a son like you.” Alaric shook his head indifferently.
Ryk clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. His shoulders were visibly shaking as he took deep breaths.
“That is the insignia of House Silversword!” Someone from the crowd exclaimed.
A collective gasp of astonishment followed when they realized who Alaric might be.
His striking silvery-white hair and his golden crimson eyes made everyone think of one person.
Alaric Silversword.
Ryk Heinrich also reached the same conclusion and his eyes flashed with fear.
“L-Lord Alaric, w-why are you defending those peasants?” He wiped off the sweat on his face while cautiously looking at Alaric.
“Ryk is it?” Alaric’s eyes were terrifyingly cold.
Ryk hurriedly looked away, afraid to meet his eyes.
“The ones you called peasants are my people!”
Ryk’s knees buckled under his intense gaze, but before he fell to the ground, his guards quickly caught him.
“Lord Alaric, please quell your anger! Lord Ryk was just having a bad day. It wasn’t his intention to provoke your people.” One of the guards immediately spoke up for him.
Alaric ignored the guard and kept his eyes on Ryk. “I will remember this, Ryk Heinrich. Soon, I will visit Redonia and ask Baron Smith Heinrich for an explanation.”
He took one final look at Ryk to memorize his face.
Alaric looked away from him in disgust and said. “Let’s go. We’re leaving now.”
“Yes, my lord!”
The crowd watched Alaric’s group leave in awe.
“So that’s Lord Alaric. He looks formidable!”
“I have finally met the rising star of the North in person!”
“I heard that he challenged the second heir of House Paxley to a sacred duel. Apparently, this happened…”
Ryk was scared witless when he heard the crowd’s discussion. He had also heard about what happened in Ryvaad.
I’m fucking screwed this time!
He grabbed his head as he tried to come up with a way to get out of this situation.
He won’t challenge me to a sacred duel over something like this, right? There’s no way…
He tried to convince himself, but the more he thought about it, the more terrified he became.