Chapter 155 - 156: The Drunk Adventurer

Chapter 155: Chapter 156: The Drunk Adventurer

They walked through the streets with the evening settling around them like a blanket and the sky turning from orange to pink to purple as the sun sank below the horizon and the first stars began to appear like scattered diamonds against the darkening velvet above.

Daniel looked around at the buildings and the people and the signs and felt the strange mixture of excitement and nervousness that came from being in a new place with new possibilities and new dangers.

"We need an inn," he said.

Paul nodded with the kind of practical agreement that came from years of traveling and knowing exactly what needed to be done. "There should be one nearby. This is a busy area."

They walked further and passed a bakery with its warm smells of fresh bread and a blacksmith with its ringing hammer and a tavern with its flickering lights and its promise of rest and refreshment.

Then they saw it—an inn that was large and well-lit with a warm glow spilling from its windows and a sign that read "The Traveler’s Rest" in elegant script that suggested comfort and safety and a place to lay one’s head for the night.

"There," Daniel said.

They walked toward the inn and pushed open the door and stepped inside, and the inn was warm with a fire crackling in the hearth and the smell of ale and stew filling the air and people sitting at tables eating and drinking and talking in the comfortable way of people who had found a moment of peace in a busy world.

But something was wrong.

There was a man—a large man with broad shoulders and thick arms and the kind of presence that demanded attention—standing near the bar, and he was drunk and loud and harassing a waitress who was young and pretty and clearly terrified as she tried to pull away from his grip.

The man was holding her arm with one hand and spanking her with the other and laughing with the kind of cruel, drunken laugh that made Daniel’s blood run cold.

"Come on, sweetheart," the man slurred with his words running together like spilled ale. "Just one kiss. Just one little kiss."

The waitress shook her head with tears forming in her eyes and her voice trembling with fear. "Please, sir. Please let me go."

The man laughed again and tightened his grip. "I’ll let you go when I’m done with you."

No one was doing anything.

The other patrons were looking away with the kind of deliberate blindness that came from fear or indifference or both, and the innkeeper was pretending to clean a glass with obsessive attention, and the guards were nowhere to be seen.

Daniel watched with his expression calm and his eyes cold.

Paul watched with his expression angry and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Lyra watched with her hand resting on her gun and her eyes sharp and dangerous.

Cheeky watched with her metal swirling around her in thin, restless tendrils.

Fluffy watched with her daggers drawn and her ears flat against her head.

Mittens watched with fear in her eyes and trembling in her hands.

Brick Head watched with confusion on his face and the kind of slow realization that something bad was happening.

Paul moved first.

He walked toward the man with slow, deliberate footsteps and cold eyes that promised violence in a way that words never could, and a young man stepped in front of him with nervousness written across his face and fear in his eyes.

"Please," the young man said with his voice shaking. "Don’t cause any trouble. That guy is an inner member of the guild. If you fight him, this place will be in trouble."

Paul didn’t stop.

"Please," the young man said again with desperation creeping into his voice. "He’s an inner member. He’s powerful. He’s connected. You can’t fight him."

Paul didn’t stop.

The young man stepped aside with the kind of defeated resignation that came from knowing he couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

Paul walked toward the drunk man with slow, deliberate footsteps and cold eyes that promised violence, and Daniel smiled a cold and dangerous smile and followed with the others falling into step behind him.

The drunk man was about to spank the waitress again with his hand raised and his face twisted with lust and his mouth open in a laugh that made Daniel’s stomach turn.

Paul grabbed his hand.

The man stopped with his eyes going wide and his mouth falling open and his breath catching in his throat.

"What the—" he started.

Paul squeezed with all the strength in his hands and the man’s bones cracked with a sound like breaking twigs and he screamed with a voice that echoed through the inn.

"I said," Paul said with his voice cold and calm and utterly without mercy, "that’s enough."

The man stared at him with his face pale and his eyes wide and his breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"Do you know who I am?" he spat with rage trying to cover the fear beneath it. "I’m an inner member of the guild! I’m powerful! I’m connected!"

Paul didn’t answer.

"I can have you killed! I can have you arrested! I can have you—"

Paul squeezed harder and the man screamed louder and the sound of his pain filled the inn like music.

"I don’t care," Paul said.

The man stared at him with his face a mask of rage and fear and the kind of disbelief that came from someone who had never been challenged before.

"You... you..." he stammered.

Paul let go and the man stumbled back and clutched his hand and looked at Paul with eyes that were burning with hatred and humiliation.

"You’ll regret this," he spat with his voice shaking with rage. "You’ll regret this!"

Paul didn’t answer. He just stood there with his expression calm and his eyes cold and the kind of quiet confidence that came from knowing exactly what he was doing and why.

Daniel walked toward him and stopped beside him and looked at the drunk man with his expression calm and his eyes cold.

"You should leave," Daniel said.

The man stared at him with his face red and his eyes wild and the kind of fury that came from being humiliated in front of others.

"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded.

Daniel smiled a cold and dangerous smile that did not reach his eyes. "I’m the guy who’s going to make you leave."

The man screamed with rage and charged with his fists raised and his face twisted with the kind of blind fury that made him careless and stupid and easy to predict.

Daniel didn’t move.

He stood there with his hands in his pockets and his expression calm and his eyes cold, and he watched the man come at him with the patient stillness of someone who had seen this exact moment play out a hundred times before.

The man swung.

Daniel tilted his head.

The fist passed inches from his face and the man stumbled forward with the momentum of his missed punch and Daniel stepped aside and let him fall and crash into a table that shattered under his weight.

The man lay there with the wreckage of the table around him and blood dripping from a cut on his forehead and the kind of dazed confusion that came from hitting something harder than expected.

Daniel looked down at him with his expression calm and his eyes cold. "Leave," he said.

The man pushed himself up with rage still burning in his eyes and blood dripping down his face and the kind of stubborn stupidity that refused to accept defeat.

"I’ll kill you!" he screamed. "I’ll kill you!"

He charged again.

Daniel sighed.

This was going to be a long night.