The innkeeper's wife was one obstacle Kyle did not see coming.
"I know this inn can be confusing, but this area is off-limits to outsiders. Why don't you head back to the dining area? I'll join you in a bit."
She continued, her voice honeyed and polite.
Kyle didn't stop.
He kept walking, causing the female's lips to twitch in irritation.
The innkeeper's wife froze, her lips twitching as her smile slightly faltered.
Most n would fall over themselves to obey her.
They would at least pretend to be chard.
But this young noble?
He ignored her completely.
She felt heat rush to her face, a mix of annoyance and embarrassnt.
"If you continue like this then I will have no choice but to call the guards."
She said, her voice still smooth but now with an edge of warning.
Kyle's response was calm and indifferent.
"Do what you want."
The dismissive tone in his voice lit a fire in her chest.
This brat…!
She spun on her heel and snapped her fingers.
"Guards! Remove this intruder imdiately!"
She called out.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, and soon, several guards appeared, their expressions stern but hesitant.
They took one look at Kyle's noble attire and imdiately paused, glancing at each other.
This wasn't so random troublemaker—this was a nobleman.
They weren't stupid.
ssing with a noble without solid proof?
That could an punishnt or worse.
But the innkeeper's wife wasn't having it.
"I will personally reward whoever drags him out!"
She declared, her sweet voice now laced with frustration.
The guards, now tempted by greed, tightened their grips on their weapons.
Kyle, expression unchanged, simply sighed.
I was not planning on staying here long, but now that you've shown your true colors, I think I need to teach you all a lesson as well."
He said lazily,
The innkeeper's wife stiffened.
"You paid for your rooms, Young Master. And as far as I'm concerned, you agreed to our terms. If you refuse to leave, you'll be forfeiting that money."
She said with a smirk before giving the guards a signal to start attacking.
The guards hesitated at first, glancing at each other with uncertainty.
But then, the innkeeper's wife shot them a sharp glare, her face pale but her voice demanding.
"What are you waiting for?! Get rid of him!"
That was all the encouragent they needed.
The guards lunged forward, their weapons raised.
At the sa ti, a few locals—either looking for a reward or just wanting to stay on the good side of the innkeeper's wife—joined in.
They charged at Kyle, faces filled with confidence, believing they could easily overpower one noble brat.
Even Bruce felt nervous.
"Young Master, I'll help—"
Bruce called, reaching for his sword.
But before he could draw his blade, Kyle scoffed.
"If I needed help dealing with this garbage, I might as well die."
A heavy silence followed.
And then—
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"
The attackers were furious.
Kyle had called them garbage.
Like they were nothing.
They roared in anger and rushed him harder, their movents now fueled by rage and wounded pride.
A dozen people.
So with knives, so with makeshift weapons, so with just their fists.
All coming for Kyle alone.
Bruce gulped.
Even if Kyle was skilled, could he really fight this many at once?
The mont of doubt lasted half a second.
Then—
Kyle moved.
Or rather—
He barely moved at all.
The first attacker ca at him, swinging a knife straight for Kyle's throat.
Kyle tilted his head slightly, dodging by re inches.
At the sa ti, his hand shot out, his fingers lightly tapping the attacker's wrist.
A sickening crack echoed through the air.
The knife dropped to the floor, the man scread, clutching his now useless wrist.
But Kyle was already moving to the next.
A club-wielding brute raised his weapon high.
Kyle stepped forward, palm striking the man's elbow.
The club flew from his grasp, and a follow-up strike to the stomach sent him crashing into two others behind him.
It all happened too fast.
Bruce could barely keep up.
"He's… not even trying."
Bruce realized, his jaw dropping. He knew that his young master had turned amazing, but he did not realize just how amazing that change actually was.
Kyle didn't even draw his sword.
He was only using his hands.
Dodging. Redirecting. Countering.
Each strike efficient, each movent precise.
It wasn't flashy.
It wasn't chaotic.
It was controlled destruction.
The attackers fell one after another—
So clutching their wrists.
So doubled over in pain.
So lying motionless on the floor, groaning in agony.
And Kyle?
His expression never changed.
No wasted movent.
No unnecessary violence.
It was like he was sweeping away dust from his path.
The last man standing dropped his weapon and took a step back.
His face was white with fear.
"M-Monster…"
He stamred before turning and running for his life.
The entire inn was silent.
The guards and locals, once so sure of their victory, were now on the ground, broken and groaning.
Kyle looked around at the fallen bodies and let out a bored sigh.
"I called you garbage, not because you're weak-"
He said, his voice calm yet sharp,
The ones still conscious looked up, pain and confusion on their faces.
"-But because you don't think,- and you let your greed and desires control you."
Kyle continued.
He turned away from them, as if they weren't even worth his ti anymore.
Then, his cold gaze landed on the innkeeper's wife.
She flinched.
For the first ti, she looked truly afraid.
Kyle took a step toward her.
She shook violently, stepping back until she was pressed against the wall.
"Now then, I'll be heading down that corridor to find my subordinate."
Kyle said, his tone casual but dripping with nace,
The innkeeper's wife opened her mouth to protest, but—
Kyle's gaze darkened.
"If you try anything funny…"
His eyes flicked toward the beaten, groaning bodies on the floor.
"...You'll end up just like your dogs."
A cold shiver ran down the innkeeper's wife's spine.
Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, her face drained of all color.
She didn't dare say another word.
Kyle didn't wait for permission.
He walked past her without a second glance—
Heading straight to the corridor beyond.
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