Max trembled nervously at the unsettling aura that the man emanated. He got out of his seat and approached them, heading right for Max. Yulysion immediately intercepted him, but the man was so quick with his movements that he caught her by the wrist and pulled her harshly to face him.

  Yulysion yelled and pointed his sword at the man, but he didn’t bat a single eye.

  The man looked down at her with gleaming interest in his eyes. Unable to bear it anymore, Yulysion charged towards the man with his sword, but the surrounding northern barbarians all drew their swords and intercepted him. Max held her breath as the situation began to spiral out of control. She felt more numb at this moment than when she faced monsters.

  The man grabbed and lifted her chin softly in a creepy way, spitting out vulgar insults about her husband.

  Max’s eyes flashed in anger at his mockery. A rush of adrenaline ran through her veins and she completely forgot her initial shock and fear as she glared at the man.

  How dare does a barbarian insult the most honorable and majestic knight in the world!

  Livid and unable to take it anymore, she drew her leg back and kicked the man’s shin as hard as she could. Unfortunately for her, the man was wearing greaves and Max screamed in pain as her toes crunched against hard metal. Seeing her in agony, the man tilted his head back and burst into laughter

  Max twisted and pulled to escape the man’s grasp, but the man held her firmly as if he was simply holding a small, fluttering bird.

  She was so shaken with maddening rage that her tongue began to stutter more than usual. Max’s face almost exploded with embarrassment at her stuttering and anger at the man. The man gazed down at her red face and smiled wickedly.

  He brought his face near hers and repeated it.

  Max’s chin trembled with blind fury. She had never felt such seething fury in the entirety of her life. She tugged on his arm, fought for all she was worth, and tried with all her might to fight off the insults.

  The cruel smirk on the man’s lips was wiped away. Suddenly, the expression on his face became so freezingly cold that Max’s whole body became stiff. She was terrified by the man’s murderous eyes, broad, tense shoulders, and rough hands that violently tugged at her wrists. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably, wondering if he was going to hit her any moment now. She mustered what was left of her courage and murmured in a weak voice.

  The blood quickly drained from Max’s face. She wanted to get back at him and yell a retort, but her tongue felt as if it was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Tears started to form in her eyes from the shame and humiliation she felt. She clamped her lips tightly. Seeing her defeated, the man clicked his tongue and threw her aside, like a cat tired of playing with the mouse he caught.

  At that moment, the man’s body suddenly turned around and a loud sound of a punch colliding against human flesh and bone resounded. Max screamed in shock. Before she could even understand what had just happened, the man’s body flew through the air like a sheet of paper. She watched him collapse into the barrack, and Max’s eyes widened in astonishment.

  Riftan ignored the shouts coming from all directions and lifted the man by his collar, then raised his fist to land another powerful punch. The man’s face was terribly distorted like an evil monster after being hit twice by Riftan.

  Licht Breston quickly regained his balance and drew a dagger from his waist. He spat out the blood in his mouth and charged at Riftan. All Max could do was scream at the sheer violence before her. She felt her throat rip from screaming, but that wasn’t enough to make any of the men stop snarling at each other like enraged beasts.

  The commander of Balto’s forces brandished his dagger like a mad bull, but Riftan easily dodged every slice. Within seconds, the man’s dagger was in his hands, who barely broke out in a sweat. Riftan easily outmaneuvered the man and grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open and thrusted the dagger into his mouth.

  He murmured darkly and thrust the dagger deeper into the man’s mouth. The larger man squirmed and struggled as he felt the sharp tip of the blade touch the back of his throat. The northern scoundrel was much taller and bulkier compared to Riftan, but he easily downed the man and overpowered him. Riftan stared at the man, unable to move with the dagger in his mouth, and growled in a calm, bloody voice.

  Balto’s warriors, who were preventing Yulysion from entering the fray until now, screamed and pointed their swords at Riftan, but he showed no hint of fear and continued in an icy tone that promised death.

  Balto’s soldiers, who were about to charge so vigorously, seemed to be petrified by his threat and immediately stopped their advance. Their faces flushed red in anger.

  His burning black eyes that seemed to emit flames turned to Max’s pale face.

  Riftan his sarcastic words coldly mocking.

  The man who was under Breston’s command fell silent in an instant, helpless as his face became dark red with anger and humiliation. Max, paralyzed with fear under the strain that stops her heart, didn’t know what to do. Although nobody was moving, it was all too obvious to the eyes that they were having a difficult struggle.

  Licht Breston’s throat was red because of the compressed blood from Riftan’s grip and more blood was dripping from the man’s open mouth. Riftan grunted and clenched his hand around the man’s neck so hard that Max could see the large veins on his bulging forearms.

  Amid the bloody and murderous atmosphere, a roaring, commanding voice cut through the tension. Everyone’s eyes, except Riftan’s, flew to the owner of the voice. Princess Agnes walked through the crowd of onlookers with powerful steps.

  Riftan said in a low, foreboding growl.

  Yulysion stepped forward and enthusiastically supported Riftan. Balto’s men did not remain silent before this accusation and began to launch endless insults and blasphemies. Princess Agnes rubbed her aching head and turned to Max, begging for help. She, still frozen in place as if she was paralyzed, quickly came to her senses and rushed closer to Riftan.

  Hearing her own stutter in her ears, Max’s ears burned with embarrassment, and she urged him in a barely audible voice, but Riftan didn’t even budge. He turned and looked at her, his face terribly distorted by rage. She slowly and carefully reached out and placed her hands on his hardened arm. Then, Riftan, whose whole body was tensed from fury, muttered a harsh curse under his breath and finally released the man.

  Like a beast finally released from its cage, Balto’s commander quickly scooted away from Riftan, wiping his mouth that was still dripping blood. The man’s eyes were red with hatred and malice.

  He screamed like an angry wild dog, and Balto’s soldiers behind him rebelled in support of their leader.

  Riftan muttered darkly.

  Princess Agnes quickly stood in between them.

  Both men glared at the princess with vicious eyes.

  The Northerner turned and protested fiercely, his eyes practically blistered with blind loathing.

  Riftan laughed darkly.

  With her patience lost, the Princess screamed and sparks of fire flew everywhere. They were forced to separate due to the flames Agnes conjured. She stood there like a judge and yelled loudly.

  However, the two men did not shift their hostile gazes away from each other. Unexpectedly, it was the Northerner who withdrew first amid the suffocating tension. Phil Aron’s right hand turned and gave his neck a crac, spat blood to the ground and then walked toward his barrack. Following his example, Balto’s other men sheathed their swords and followed after their leader without saying another word.

  Max exhaled the breath she was holding as they all walked away. With the terrifying pressure gone, she felt her legs shake and she began to collapse. Riftan quickly reached out and grabbed her, holding her up in his arms. He swiftly lifted her and carried her in his arms. She looked around, puzzled and a little embarrassed. Knights, mercenaries, and soldiers all gathered around to watch the commotion.

  His tone was still stiff as he strode through the crowd who were spectating them. Yulysion followed him a few steps back and began to apologize profusely.

  Riftan kept his pace fast without even looking at him, and Yulysion’s head drooped down weakly like a scolded puppy. Seeing this, Max looked at Riftan reproachfully.

  Riftan’s neck swelled as if there was something stuck in his throat and he clenched his jaw.

  Feeling the terrifying furious aura from her husband, Max immediately closed her mouth. The crowd around them silently dispersed, as if they also sensed the murderous aura surrounding Riftan.

  He immediately brought Max to his barracks. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the darkness of the tent as Riftan laid her down on the bed and lit a lamp with a flint. She looked at the outline of his face that the light granted and swallowed dryly. Max wished her erratic heart would calm down, but instead, she felt her eyes fill with tears. She thought he would get angry as usual and start yelling at her, but seeing his clear and calm expression, as if he were in his own world right now, twisted her insides terribly.

  Stupid stutterer. Maybe that was what he was thinking right now. Max bit her lips close. It was an insult she heard her father call her repeatedly, to the point where she had almost become numb to it. However, what made her feel excruciating pain was that her flaw was turned into a weapon and used as an insult to attack Riftan. She couldn’t bear the stifling silence any longer and opened her mouth to speak.

  Riftan turned his head. He looked at her in disbelief at what he just heard and knelt on one knee in front of her.

  As Riftan wrapped his fingers around Max’s wrists, she winced at the pain. Seeing her in pain, Riftan’s shoulders tensed. He gently rolled up her sleeve and took a deep, sharp breath. A clearly visible patch of dark red bruises could be seen even under the dim lighting

  Riftan declared in a voice that was similar to that of a growling beast.

  Note –

  : I hope Licht Breston would die an excruciating, humiliating death—severed of all his limbs and nasty tongue, in front of all the northern scoundrels.

  : What she said, thank you ^