## Chapter 29 – Those Martial Artist Bastards
So, this happened one day.
I’d been making good money lately, so I decided to splurge a little, humming and hawing, and went into a bar. That’s where it all went down.
The bar was quiet, which was nice.
Since I was eating alone anyway, I immediately snagged a big table. Looking at the menu, the prices were generally low, so I freely ordered beer and skewers. I was sitting there enjoying my drink, feeling pretty good, when I realized the skewers were absolutely amazing.
The smoky, salty flavor of some unknown monster meat captivated my taste buds. I was completely enchanted by the cheap price for the amount they gave, and before I knew it, I was pigging out for the first time in ages, not even noticing my wallet getting lighter.
Usually, if the menu is cheap, the portions are stingy, right? But this place was a dream – the portions, the taste, the price, all satisfying.
I was in a great mood. The beer was good, the meat was good.
My tension skyrocketed.
That’s when it happened.
“Hey, move it.”
Just as I was starting to feel the alcohol, a bunch of burly guys came barging into the bar. That wouldn’t have mattered, but one of them said something incomprehensible to me, which was definitely something to care about.
“Can’t you hear me? I said move.”
“Who the hell is this guy?”
For a moment, I wondered if I’d misheard him in my drunken state, so I tried to retrace my steps, but he was definitely talking to me. A well-built man was saying that to me with an unpleasant expression. This was a serious problem. A sigh escaped my lips.
Should I draw my sword?
But this wasn’t the wilderness, it was a city. And inside a bar, no less. If I just drew my sword because someone was picking a fight, I’d be nothing more than a thug. If ordinary people started sword fighting in the middle of the city, that would cause problems. This world isn’t very kind to adventurers who cause trouble. Adventurers even get beaten to death by the City Guards, who are basically the police, from time to time.
Anyway, I was an adventurer, not a thug (though I’m not sure there’s much difference), so I decided to at least ask for a reason.
“What the fuck… I mean, why should I move?”
“As you can see, we don’t have enough seats.”
He looked back at his group as if to say, “See?”
Sure, I was taking up a big table all to myself, but if that was the case, he could have just asked, “Excuse me, we have a bit of a group, could you possibly move to another table?”
Was he trying to act tough just because he had a few more heads?
I felt a surge of anger that made my head throb, so I tried to explain as politely as possible.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Isn’t it your parents who are lacking?”
“Huh? What are you saying?”
“Your mother’s dead. Stabbed to death by some asshole. That’s why I said ‘lacking.’ You only have a dad because your mom’s dead.”
For a moment, he looked confused by my sudden barrage of insults, muttering something as he tried to process what I’d said.
“…!”
Then his face started turning redder and redder. He finally understood.
“You, you! You son of a bitch!”
He exploded with profanity. The way his face was changing color every second was really annoying. How could he get so angry over a single insult when he was the one who started it? These guys are always so confident when they’re the ones swearing, but they get all mad when they’re on the receiving end.
“A duel! My pride as a martial artist won’t allow me to let this insult pass!”
“You’re a martial artist?”
No wonder he didn’t have a weapon on his waist.
Even just outside the city walls, monsters were everywhere, and back alley thugs would mug you without hesitation. It was common sense for everyone, whether they were travelers or just going to the local market, to carry some kind of weapon for self-defense.
The exception might be martial artists. They don’t use weapons. At most, they use cute little tools like knuckles, gauntlets, or claws that barely qualify as weapons.
I don’t know why. It could be for religious reasons, or to train their bodies or cultivate their minds, but at least this idiot in front of me didn’t seem like he was walking the path of a martial artist for any of those reasons.
I followed him out of the bar, seething.
Then his group came rushing out after us. Let’s see. One, two, three. Five in total. They all didn’t have any weapons either. Did the Martial Artist Guild come out for a company dinner or something?
“Alright, a duel, huh… A duel sounds good.”
I drew my sword without hesitation.
“You’re a martial artist, so you go barehanded. I’m an adventurer, so I’ll use my sword. Okay?”
“You cowardly bastard! Fight fair!”
“You idiot, you need to know when to stop talking nonsense. You’re dead, you son of a bitch.”
“Y-you!”
As soon as I pointed my sword at him, the guy who had been so cocky just a moment ago, spewing insults at a complete stranger, turned into a meek lamb.
He took a stance, but unless you’re a serious expert, it’s absolutely impossible to beat someone with a sword barehanded. And he was clearly a novice.
He even asked for the duel first.
My swordsmanship was perfectly legal.
“What, what is it?”
The guy in front of my blade started looking at me nervously.
“…”
“What, you little shit. Got a problem? If you do, tell your mom to buy you a sword too. You pathetic martial artist.”
Logically speaking, it’s almost impossible for a swordsman to lose to a martial artist of the same level. A person without a weapon can never beat a person with a weapon. The difference in basic damage and reach is just too great.
Hitting someone with bones and muscles is less damaging than slicing them with a blade of steel. The added bleeding damage is just a bonus. And a punch has a shorter range than a sword, which combines the length of your arm with the length of the blade.
That’s common sense, but surprisingly, a lot of people don’t know it.
Like this martial artist.
“C-crazy bastard…!”
At my outburst, he started sweating profusely and looked around. He was giving his group a look that said, “Why aren’t you guys helping me?” I understand why he felt confident with so many heads around. But he messed with me, so he’s going to have to pay the price.
Looks like I’ll make some money.
If I beat him up and take everything he has, everything will be OK. Still, I’m a little worried about the group he brought… If I swing my sword too rashly, he’ll just turn around and run away. I’ll assess the situation while facing him.
Anyway, while I was thinking about whether or not to kill this guy, he suddenly shouted loudly.
“This, this guy is looking down on martial artists!!! A swordsman is looking down on martial artists!!”
“What?”
Then his group, who had been standing by until now, suddenly surrounded me. I quickly backed up against the wall. I had to avoid being completely surrounded.
There are three enemies in front of me. They don’t have any weapons, so three is fine.
I was half-surrounded, but even so, there were only five of them. I could just swing my sword around and they wouldn’t be able to get close. There’s no way any of these guys are true warriors who aren’t afraid of getting cut.
But… huh?
“What the hell are these fucking idiots?”
I was a little flustered.
There weren’t just five of them. All the martial artists in the neighborhood who heard the shout were gathering one after another.
“A swordsman is looking down on martial artists. I can’t just let that pass.”
“Is it here?”
“What did that bastard say?”
“Which bastard is looking down on martial artists?”
“Hey! Call all the guys around here!”
“A guy with a sword is looking down on our martial artists!”
The situation quickly spiraled towards despair.
I almost foamed at the mouth and fainted at this rainbow-colored, dreamlike spectacle. No, foam was already coming out of my mouth. More than ten martial artists had gathered, muttering to themselves.
This is way beyond what I expected.
I thought I’d just be dealing with two or three unarmed guys!
“What are you guys! Get lost!”
I shouted like I was having a seizure…!
“Are you the swordsman who’s disrespecting the Martial Artist Guild?”
“What? What guild am I disrespecting? The only one I’m disrespecting is that guy behind you!”
Then one guy who seemed to be the leader stepped forward.
These guys were all from the Martial Artist Guild.
Actually, in order to call yourself a martial artist, you had to join the Martial Artist Guild. A sense of solidarity, a sense of belonging? Did they all come running to help because their guildmate was in trouble?
Wow, what a bunch of thug bastards!
“That doesn’t matter. A swordsman disrespected a martial artist, so we can’t just let it pass. It’s a matter of pride.”
“Hey, hey…! Don’t be ridiculous! It’s a one-on-one duel! A duel, a duel! Don’t you know what a duel is?! Unrelated people, get lost!”
I shouted, swinging my sword around.
Pride my ass! More than ten guys came to gang up on one person! If that’s how you fill your pride, then your mom must be filling her self-esteem by getting gang-banged, you sons of bitches! I didn’t say that though.
Because I thought I was really going to die.
“Didn’t you disrespect the martial artist first?”
“You idiot! That’s because that motherless bastard started a fight with me first! That has nothing to do with you guys! Are you guys thugs? Starting a fight and then ganging up on someone when they’re about to get their ass kicked? Is that all your pride is worth?”
“No matter what you say, the fact remains that you insulted a member of the Martial Artist Guild in front of our martial artists.”
The leader, who seemed to be a martial arts fanatic, wasn’t listening.
“DEGYAAAAAS!!!!!”
And so, I was beaten to a pulp by the muscular martial artists like a dog on Boknal. With all those muscles pushing in, there wasn’t even room to swing my sword.
That’s why I’m lying here in the Relief Monastery.
“Ah… fuck…”
The treatment cost me a whopping 1 silver. My whole body trembled with anger. My sword was just a toy in the face of their overwhelming numbers and merciless blows.
I desperately held on until the City Guard stopped them, preventing them from stealing my belongings, but I couldn’t stop my body from becoming a rag. There was no mercy in their brutal, relentless punches.
You can never beat someone with a sword barehanded.
Likewise, an individual can never beat a group. If it was one-on-one, I could have easily beaten and killed those guys who were showing off their strength.
But when they come at you in a mob like that, there’s nothing you can do, even with a sword. Even if I had a sword, there’s no way I could have won with them charging at me like that.
“Are you feeling any better now?”
The blue-haired nun who was healing me asked.
It really is a fantasy world. My big wounds started to heal instantly with the healing I received for just 1 silver. Luckily, the kids only used striking techniques, not joint locks… Well, that was to be expected.
In the first place, I didn’t have any injuries that would leave permanent disabilities.
“Ah, I still feel a little pain…”
“Further treatment will incur additional charges…”
“Wow, I suddenly feel all better. Can I go back now?”
“I’ll help you up.”
I came outside with the nun’s help.
There was nothing seriously wrong with my body. Unlike the alchemists at the Krassheim Alchemist Guild, who sell detoxifying ointments for 2 silver, this Isvant branch of the Relief Monastery boasted reasonable prices.
She helped me to the outside and waved goodbye with a bright smile.
“Come again.”
What do you mean, “Come again,” you woman.
Are you telling me to get beaten up and lie here again?
“Ah… fuck, this is so fucked up.”
I left the monastery with a gloomy face and started walking.
More than anything, my pride was deeply wounded by getting beaten up by martial artists.
Actually, I’ve always looked down on martial artists. In my common sense, I couldn’t see those guys who train their bodies and don’t carry swords in this harsh world in a good light.
Getting beaten up by those guys hurt not only my body but also my heart.
I can win one-on-one. But…
“That’s why groups are important.”
Belonging.
That’s right. “Being affiliated” is important.
Those guys ganged up on me as one within the framework of the “Martial Artist Guild.” It’s not for nothing that these kinds of groups are formed. It’s the same with churches. Even robbers don’t mess with church people. They know that the moment they do, paladins, crusaders, and holy investigators will swarm them like bees.
The Adventurer’s Guild is just a brokerage firm that gives out jobs, so it’s not much help.
Should I join a religion this time? It’s a tempting idea, but churches have many restrictions as well as benefits. As someone who craves freedom, it wouldn’t suit me at all.
“Hmm?”
That’s when I was on my way back to the inn.
A sign with a fancy big sword caught my eye.
It was a pretty big building.
[Swordsman Guild – Feral Dog]
Under the sign, it said “Swordsman Guild.”
