The men answered with a question instead. “Yer Yezero’s mapmaker, yah?”
“What about it?”
Smirking away, the men came even closer. They finally halted in front of the border fence and stared down Unen’s group—primarily Irena—like dogs licking their chops before a delectable prey.
“They’re hired hands from Chelveny. I saw them at the town of Harrow,” Ori pointed out with indifference. Harrow was two towns over from Yezero, the first town on the border inside Chelveny.
“Are you sure?” Irena asked.
“I have no issue remembering faces,” Ori casually answered. He looked at each man in order and addressed them, “I take it there’s someone in Chelveny who will be put in a bad spot if a map of Baborak is made.”
“Ya’ve got that right!” one man said in a thick accent, and proceeded to hack at the wooden fence with his hatchet.
Ori grabbed Unen’s hand without a second’s delay and ran to the boulder about ten meters back from the border fence, trampling the grass underfoot.
“Stay put with your back to the boulder.”
Ori pushed Unen to the boulder that was the size of a covered wagon, turned around, and walked several steps toward the fence. Arriving right after, Irena took up her stance to his left.
Smashing their way through the fence, the men leisurely strolled into Baborak territory. Irena and Ori drew their swords at the same time. Three of the invaders went into formation in front of Ori, while the final one challenged Irena.
“What a brave ‘ittle thing ya are to brandish a sword, missie.”
What did this man do to make his voice sound so vulgar? The hair stood up on the back of Unen’s neck in disgust. Praying with her entire being for Irena to fight well, Unen cautiously removed the pelorus from her staff and held the staff protectively in front of her. She wasn’t strong and would only serve as meager resistance, but rolling over and letting them chop her to pieces didn’t fit her personality. If they brought the fight to her, she’d defend herself.
“Poor thing, are yer hands shaking, missie? Don’t do w’at ya can’t do if yer scared. I won’t treat ya badly,” the man drawled on indecently.
Mocking laughter came from the other men. They were drunk on their advantage in numbers. Swaying from side to side, they smugly flaunted the surprisingly high-quality weapons in their hand. Opposite of them, neither Ori nor Irena twitched or moved even a centimeter.
“You’re right. I’m scared,” Irena declared confidently. “I think this might be the first time I kill someone.”
“W’at did ya say?!”
His hysteric curses were interrupted by Irena’s loud proclamation. “I’m the oldest daughter of Yezero Vigilante Corps’ Boss Wojciech, Irena!” she named herself, “Come at me if you don’t value your life!”
“W-Wench…!” her opponent turned bright-red and howled. Brandishing his sword at the same height as his face, he pointed the tip at Irena and charged straight at her like a bull.
Irena immediately took a step forward with her right foot. Parrying the incoming thrust with a thrust of her own, she twisted her sword and pushed back on his blade.
The man’s expression changed. Blood drained from his face as he swung his sword up with all his strength to shake off Irena’s powerful thrust.
He lunged at her with another thrust, but Irena defended his attack with the guard on her sword. Then, with a flash of cold steel, she used the impetus to strike.
The man dropped his sword with a howl. Fresh blood gushed from where he held his right shoulder. Another man, the one closest to Irena out of the three facing Ori, yelled, “Harlot!” His face twisted with fury.
“Who’s next?!” Irena taunted, distracting them.
Seizing the opportunity, Ori made his move. Quickly closing the distance between him and the man at the center of the group, Ori swung his sword down from overhead.
However, his enemy was also formidable. The man narrowly caught Ori’s blade with his sword, and brought the fight to a deadlock—or so it appeared, until Ori spun his sword at breakneck speed. Steel screeched as Ori’s sword slammed into the man’s sword from the side.
A flash of silver cut off the man’s wrist. Now ignoring the man moaning in pain, Ori swung at the man charging in from the right. The man directed Ori’s blade to the left, but Ori simply rotated his wrist and deftly spun his sword around, forcing the man’s sword downward. Stepping past his opponent’s defenses with fluid agility, he slammed his sword’s pommel into the man’s nose.
Shrieking like a pig, the man staggered back with blood pouring from a crushed nose. Ori promptly circled behind him and held his blade to the man’s throat.
All of that had only taken him just under ten seconds. Irena whistled in awe.
“Back down from this job. Your lives will be spared if you do,” Ori instructed.
The man at Ori’s sword pleaded with his other intact friend, his trembling lips soaked in blood from his broken nose, “C’mon…let’s quit this gig and go home… These guys are strong. We can’t take ‘em on…”
“Ya insane dunce. What d’ya think our lord will do if we return home empty-handed?” the other man scoffed.
“I don’t wanna die,” the broken nose man cried out nasally.
Ignoring him, the unscathed man pulled out a whistle and blew.
At the shrill sound of the whistle, more figures appeared from the shadows of the hill beyond the fence. Seven in total. Even Unen could tell Irena and Ori were nervous.
“Looks like it’s our turn.” The big man leading the new group grinned like he was about to have the time of his life.
“They’ll be killed in an instant now that the Two-headed Griffin is on the case!” laughed another man wearing his greatcoat’s hood low over his eyes.