[Culture improved.]
[Reward: Instant Language Understanding.]
[Instant Language Understanding: Allows the player to understand any language.]
"The timing is actually perfect. I was just about to wonder how the hell I’m supposed to understand them."
"Please activate Instant Language Understanding."
[Activating.]
Liam descended closer to the settlement, stopping at a height where he could clearly hear the conversations happening below. For the first time, the strange sounds he had been hearing from the humans were no longer meaningless noises. Their words suddenly became understandable, allowing Liam to finally listen to their conversations.
"Bartering food for hides!" a merchant shouted through the crowded streets.
"Offering labor for food and shelter!" another man with a decent build called out.
"This looks like a local marketplace."
Liam continued observing the busy streets until he suddenly stopped when a commotion erupted near one of the nearby houses. Multiple people had gathered around something, with several of them shouting loudly. Curious about what was happening, Liam immediately flew toward the crowd.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
"Kill that thief!"
"Woah, they’re fighting?" Liam said excitedly as he moved closer. "That man has an incredible build compared to the others, too."
Two men stood in the middle of the gathered crowd, both carrying shields and small daggers. One of them had a long black beard and noticeably more refined muscles, giving him a much more intimidating appearance than the young man standing opposite him. The bearded man wore a menacing smile, while the younger man appeared considerably more worried as he held his shield tightly.
"What now, boy? Are you scared?"
"I’m not scared of someone lower than a pile of Uruk turd."
The crowd immediately erupted into laughter, causing the stronger man to grin even wider.
"I need some proper context, argh..." Liam muttered while watching them. "Otherwise, this won’t be that interesting. I don’t even know who I’m supposed to root for."
Liam then noticed two people standing slightly away from the main crowd, speaking quietly among themselves. Curious, he flew closer in an attempt to hear their conversation.
"This is why when Omir steals something, you turn a blind eye. That guy has never lost a fight of justice in his entire life, despite stealing every day."
"Poor boy... He’s dead. You had just started your life, and now you’re going to die doing something foolish."
Liam’s expression changed as he finally understood the situation.
"Omir is the one with the black beard... and he’s the thief."
A few moments later, the crowd erupted into cheers again as the two men finally began their fight.
Both men started circling around one another, their eyes never leaving their opponent. Neither seemed willing to make the first mistake, with their shields raised and their daggers held tightly in their hands.
Several seconds passed before Omir finally launched the first attack.
His dagger shot forward, aiming directly toward the young man’s neck. Fortunately, the boy reacted quickly and raised his shield just in time, successfully blocking the attack.
"Not bad, kid. It looks like you’ve got better reflexes than Omir."
Omir clicked his tongue as he pulled his dagger back.
"Kid, stop accusing someone of stealing."
He then laughed, seemingly amused by the accusation.
From somewhere within the crowd, one of the bystanders quietly muttered, just loud enough for the people nearby to hear but not enough for Omir to notice.
"Everyone here knows you’re stealing."
Omir suddenly launched another attack.
The young man raised his shield again.
Then another attack came.
And another.
The boy continued blocking each strike, using his shield to deflect Omir’s dagger whenever it came toward him. Although Omir was clearly stronger, the younger man’s reflexes allowed him to keep up with the attacks.
Liam watched the exchange with increasing interest.
Omir’s attacks became faster and more aggressive, yet the boy continued defending himself without allowing the dagger to reach his body.
Finally, Omir’s expression twisted with irritation.
"You unborn fetus! Stop dodging!"
The crowd, who had initially been worried about the boy, gradually began turning their doubt into hope as they realized that he was actually managing to survive against Omir. What had started as a fight they expected to end quickly had suddenly become something worth watching.
"Let’s go, boy! Kill that bastard!"
"This guy is nuts! Not only is he surviving, but he’s actually going toe-to-toe with Omir!"
Omir grew increasingly impatient. He had originally thought that this would be an easy fight, something he could finish within a few attacks, but the longer it continued, the more irritated he became.
What angered him even more was seeing the worried expression on the boy’s face gradually disappear, replaced by a growing confidence as he realized that he could actually defend himself.
Omir tightened his grip around the dagger and launched another attack, swinging directly toward the boy. Just as before, the boy raised his wooden shield and successfully blocked the strike.
Or so he thought.
The moment the dagger collided with the shield, the boy suddenly felt an enormous force travel through his arms. His eyes widened as cracks rapidly spread across the wooden surface before the entire shield shattered apart, sending broken pieces flying in different directions.
"Omir is crazy... He shattered that wooden shield like it was nothing but a bunch of sticks!"
"He threw away his dagger and landed a punch instead... What a lunatic!"
"It’s really over now. Without his shield, the boy can’t keep blocking anymore."
Omir had thrown his dagger aside before the attack, choosing to rely entirely on his physical strength instead. The punch had sent the boy crashing down onto his knees, leaving him struggling to recover as Omir stood over him.
Omir slowly straightened himself, his large frame casting a shadow over the kneeling boy. He reached down and picked up the dagger he had previously thrown away before extending it toward his opponent.
"I suggest you do it yourself, or you’re going to die miserably."
The boy stared at the dagger being offered to him, seemingly unable to understand what Omir was actually intending.
"That guy..." one of the bystanders muttered, his voice trembling as he watched the scene unfold. "Is he showing mercy, or is he being cruel?"