Chapter 740: The Dismissive Encounter
The first man—Jarron—was lying helplessly on the ground, groaning painfully and holding his broken hand.
The other man's backward steps suggested that he was preparing to flee, but his eyes, grim with confusion, shifted between the girl standing and the man on the ground.
He seemed to finally resolve himself to abandon his partner. He gritted his teeth and made a run for it.
"Running after attempting robbery... how stupid."
The lady shifted one leg backward and ran forward, almost flashing across the distance, her legs swift, competing with the wind. Reaching the man's position, she rolled across, carrying her body with angelic grace.
She landed on the man, a powerful kick slamming over his head.
Blood spurted out of his nose and mouth, his eyes rolled back, and his weakened legs dropped to their knees. He collapsed and completely passed out.
The lady, confidence brimming in her face, turned around, intending to check if the guy was okay, but he just casually walked past her, going out of the alley.
At first, she widened her eyes; his steps had been so light that she did not anticipate him coming, even when he was so close to her.
But she frowned almost immediately after realizing that was not the point.
She turned and chased after the boy, catching up to him and pulling his cloak.
Northern grimaced a little bit, looking down at her hand as he turned. "What?"
The lady winced back a little, eyes widened. Then she glowered at him.
"I just saved you. And not even a word of thanks?"
Northern shook his head, his expression cold.
"You did not save me. You saved them."
He glanced over at the two men who now lay unconscious, then he shifted his eyes back to the lady.
He was slightly taller than her so he did not need to look up, nor particularly down, to address her.
"But still... you did good work. Not that I care, but if there are more people like you, I guess the world will be less of a shitty place."
Northern turned around to leave but the lady hastily came in front of him.
"What is this? Something is wrong with the way you address me?"
She couldn't quite tell, but Northern's tone was not right.
"I am not demanding to be worshipped or anything, but isn't it common sense to be grateful if you were saved?"
Northern lingered, his gaze from beneath the hood coldly piercing into her.
"Only someone in distress would be grateful. I had it under control."
He paused, causing the air between the two of them to grow heavy.
"You are contradicting yourself; you don't expect to be worshipped but you expect a thank you? At the end of the day, you want to get a medal of honor of some sort for what you have done. For whom do you do it then? Don't tell me you are an advocate of justice, that just does it for the sake of it."
Northern's tone grew slightly venomous, and the lady's expression became dark and angry.
"I'm sorry, do we have an unresolved dispute before?"
'...Meeting another Raven disgusts me. I want nothing to do with her.'
Northern stayed silent for a beat before he eventually said:
"I'm sorry if I sounded rude. Thank you."
Then he continued walking.
The lady's angry face only got angrier as she watched him walk away.
She couldn't tell what exactly that was, but it was as if the boy had a grudge towards her.
She shook her head and sighed.
"Kids these days, their parents should put more effort into their education."
She also walked towards the exit of the alley where Northern had headed, but at a slower pace. She did not want to have anything to do with such a spoiled brat; if not, there was no telling what methods of discipline she might employ.
After a couple of minutes, Northern got to a pawnshop.
The place was bloated with the smell of old paper and antiques. It was a small shop, narrow inwards with a peeling leather couch for customers to rest to one side of the wall.
Opposite the chair hung a couple of antique objects and newsletter papers pinned across the entire wall.
Northern stopped at the counter table. The man smiled, rubbing his mustache as he scrutinized the visitor. He had not even greeted when the customer entered, which said a lot about how ragged and scanty his shop was.
"We don't often get a lot of neat customers; you must be from far away."
'Was this cloth a wrong choice?'
Northern contemplated. He had just decided on a whim to look mysterious so that his dealings would go a bit smoothly. Maybe he overdid it?
"I just temporarily came around. I want to exchange some few items. What valuables have you
got?"
The man lingered for a while, studying every bit of the boy in front of him while stroking his mustache. He exhaled tiredly and eventually spoke.
"Business has been very bad these days. There's a blockade at the west; nations around the areas are doing nothing about it. Traders are either going missing or dying, a silent war is brewing, and it seems like no one else sees it but us."
Northern frowned from beneath the hood.
"So, there's nothing valuable you can offer?"
The man shrugged.
"I can offer you coins?"
Northern was silent, a hint of stoicism around him.
"Look, everywhere you go in Derille, it's the same story. Blacksmiths have limited resources to forge, traders do not have enough goods, artificers have limited resources, same with alchemists and every craftsman. And it's not just here in Verulania-Serville, Thesland, Graunmund'el. The blockade is causing serious issues. If you go out thinking you'll find better offers, I'm sorry to tell you, only disappointment awaits you, brother."
Northern lingered for a bit. Then he said:
"Forget the items, what is this blockade about?"