Ch 4.2

Barville Street was typically filled with the sounds of haggling voices and the clang of steel, but now an eerie silence hung in the air—thick and uneasy. The usual chatter had faded as beastmen and elves formed a restless circle around the commotion at the center.

Seven beastmen adventurers—dust‑streaked, muscle‑bound, stinking of sweat and metal—hauled their spoils through the street. Chains rattled with each step. Behind them, a wagon creaked forward, its cage packed with humans—filthy, bruised, hollow‑eyed.

Blocking their path stood a lone girl.

Her black tunic marked her as one of the Church of Virtues, the silver sigil on her chest flashing in the noon sun. Dark curls clung to her flushed cheeks as her voice cut through the tense silence.

“In the name of the Holy Light of the Virtues, I demand you free these souls—now!”

She spread her arms to bar their way, a frail silhouette against a wall of iron and muscle.

The lead beastman, a bulky lizard‑tribesman, halted mid‑step. A low growl rolled up from his throat.

“Free them?” he said, the word curdling with amusement. “Move, woman. We’re tired—and not in the mood for sermons.”

The nun didn’t flinch. Her breath came fast, but she stepped closer, voice trembling with fury.

“How can you treat people like this? Look at them—they’re in agony, and some are only children. Even mana beasts show mercy to their prey! You—” she spat the words—“you’re worse than mana‑spawn!”

The air turned heavy. For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then the murmurs started.

“Well, look at her—playing saint,” someone scoffed.

“Humans started this war. That’s what they get,” another said.

“They enslaved us first. Why not preach back in their own kingdom?” a third muttered, bitterness curling every syllable.

Ben lingered at the edge of the gathering, arms folded, watching in silence. His gaze moved from the defiant nun to the glowering beastmen, then to the cage. The humans inside no longer cried out. Their faces were hollow, eyes dry, as if the fight had drained out of them long ago.

Something twisted behind Ben’s ribs—pity, maybe, or irritation. Even he couldn’t tell which.

Either way, he had to move. If the mob turned, that girl would be torn apart within minutes—and his escort mission along with her. Another failure meant another of his master’s “lessons.”

And this time, the Old Demon might just finish the job.

The lead lizardman’s patience cracked. He ripped a scythe from his back, its curved blade gleaming as he jabbed it toward the nun’s face.

“Enough of your holy babble,” he snarled. “Take your virtuous ass back to your kingdom. If you don’t move in the next second, I’ll cut you down right here.”

Even with the scythe inches from her nose, the nun didn’t flinch. Her eyes burned with righteous fury.

“So that’s what this is about—money?” she shot back. “Fine then! I’ll buy them all!”

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Even the beastmen blinked in disbelief as she reached into her robes, searching for her purse.

The lizardman lowered his weapon slightly, one brow rising. “You serious?”

She pulled free a small pouch and tossed it at his face. He caught it one‑handed, claws curling tight around the soft leather.

“Just so you know,” he muttered, opening it, “we only take BRAVE‑minted coins. Anything else is scrap.”

But while he was counting, the nun strode right past him toward the slave cage, her voice ringing clear and commanding.

“You there! Free them—now!”

For a heartbeat, the other beastmen hesitated, as if caught off guard by her authority.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the leader barked, flinging the purse to the dirt. It hit with a dull thud. The silence that followed was brittle as glass.

Then he snarled, fangs bared.

“Thirty silvers and a handful of bronze for my slaves? Do you even know what they’re worth? Get away from my cargo!”

The nun stiffened. “What? That’s everything I’ve saved for three years! That should be plenty!” Then her eyes narrowed, “You’re cheating me!”

The beastman exhaled, exasperated.

“That’s it. You want to free them so bad? Fine—join them.”

The lizardman lunged, grabbed her by the collar, and yanked her off her feet. She kicked and struck out uselessly.

“Unhand me! How dare you—!” she cried, pounding at his arm, but he barely blinked as he dragged her toward the cage.

The nun was infamous for her stubborn streak—a woman too loud, too righteous, too inconvenient even for the Church that had exiled her to the Isle continent. No lecture or punishment had ever taught her restraint. Yet this time, conviction alone might not be enough to save her.

Just as the lizardman began to drag her off, a figure slid between them.

A sharp clack! split the air as his grip was slapped away.

“That’s enough,” the newcomer said, voice calm but edged with authority.

The nun stumbled back, blinking in shock as a firm arm caught her and pulled her clear. She gasped, her back thudding gently against a solid chest, the faint smell of crushed herbs and sun‑warmed cloth surrounding her.

When she looked up, she saw a young man with crimson hair standing before her—expression cool, unbothered, one hand still lifted from the deflection.

The lizardman froze, startled by the human’s speed. Around them, the crowd murmured; surprise rippled through the ring of onlookers.

“Well, well,” the lizardman drawled, irritation crawling into his voice. “Another human trying to save his own. Touching. Your kind’s getting bolder these days on our turf. Guess the Isle’s freedom’s gone to your heads.”

Ben’s gaze hardened.

“That’s enough. You know full well the law forbids abductions inside city limits—especially under BRAVE jurisdiction. Unless you’re eager to become an enemy of the guild, stand down and settle this peacefully.”

The nun’s breath hitched. A fellow human—someone who had stepped in at the very brink. Relief flooded her eyes.

Divine providence, she thought, trembling.

The beastmen shifted uneasily. BRAVE’s name carried weight. Still, the lizardman leader scoffed. “You’re awfully confident for someone meddling in things that aren’t his business. This all started because she blocked our way. She made this mess herself.”

Ben stayed composed on the outside. But inside, his thoughts raced.

Just my luck — stuck babysitting another suicidal idealist.
How the hell am I supposed to de-escalate this before it turns into another bloody mess?