Jabbing his sword towards Joren. The man before Joren was a man with a lot of power.
Even though he might have been small. The power difference between this man and the siblings was vast.
"Don't you know, kid? Master Uivan is on the walker stage." Said the minion, guffawing.
Every minion Uivan had with him was smirking; the cockiness was visible on their faces.
'Pretty snobbish I believe.' Joren said inwardly.
The walker stage was one of the levels that these clans' members had. Not exactly sure if the walker stage was only limited to them, but people around them, the customers, were feeling discomfort from the intensified atmosphere.
When Joren didn't respond, Uivan motioned with his sword to his minion.
The minion stalked forward, his chest out in a proud way.
Slammed his hand on the table and swept the plates off the table with the other hand. The minion glared at Joren.
"Show respect, you lowlife. You should be grateful that he even noticed you." He grunted and added.
"Stand up, and beg for your life; maybe my lord will show mercy to his foe."
Joren shifted his eyes to the shattered plates and the food strewn on the ground.
'These clowns never end, even in this world.' He sighed inwardly.
Joren pulled himself on his feet and turned his face to Uivan.
The little man wore a triumphant smile on his face. He assumed it was his victory.
The eyes in the shop were glancing back and forth between two men of different clans.
But if the truth is told, they cheered for none from the two. To them, they belonged to notorious clans, and the people of the city had loathed them.
However, the feeling of hatred was never expressed in the open sky, or else the consequence was obvious.
Still, their hearts were obviously brimming with this hatred that they still showed it on their faces.
What Joren did was unexpected.
"Why don't we have a duel? One-on-one, whoever wins will never enter this city?"
Uivan was quick to answer; there was no need to disagree. He also put forward his condition.
"And if you lose, you and these people will become my slaves."
The customers were swift to oppose; they had naught to do with this and yet they were dragged in without their consent.
Regardless, with a single cold glare, the customers shut their mouths. Timidly they averted their gazes.
Joren wasn't done if this was Uivan's condition, he added.
"Remember, I said never to return to this city. Not a single person from your clan will stay here."
Maybe he must play along with this clan thing.
Another minion shouted and tried to approach Joren before Uivan stopped him. Reluctantly, the minion cringed back.
Raising his hand at the level of his shoulder, with his thumb Uivan motioned toward outside. As everyone started out of the shop.
Joren and Uivan created a distance between them.
Throngs of people flocked around, curiously watching the sight. From their clothes, they knew who these people were.
Around them started murmuring; ear to ear, people spoke and stared.
"Don't cower away when I vanquish you. You will be my slave."
With his tongue Uivan licked his own blade, with a malicious expression and taunting eyes. To Joren, this small guy was just too overconfident.
And as they say, overconfidence destroys a man.
With a whoosh, Uivan vanished in front of Joren's eyes. Surprised, Joren looked around, and the minions taunted.
"You're a fool to think you can defeat the great Uivan."
"Losers like you can never win anyway."
Their real goal was to distract Joren and try to provoke him; in that way, Uivan could comfortably win against Joren.
From behind, the sword thrust at Joren's back; it was quick, too fast for a normal person's eye to see.
But Joren wasn't normal; he was different.
Too different for these people to perceive. Joren pivoted on his feet and grabbed the blade with his bare hand.
Uivan was dumbstruck; the man before him just… stopped the advancing blade with his bare hands!? That was impossible, and not only that but he was fast, as fast as Uivan was.
This made no sense to Uivan; how could he be that fast?
The only thing that made sense was that Joren must be on an equal stage.
Uivan fell back, a little fretted.
'Is his attribute also speed?' Uivan thought.
That only made half the sense. How could he explain that the man was able to stop the blade with a bare hand? That's only if he has an attribute related to durability.
'No! He can't be on the stage to have two attributes?!'
That's only possible if he was on a master stage and for Joren to be moving in this place all by himself and on top of that… there was nothing special he could feel from Joren.
"Who are you? I'm certain you're no weak person; reveal your real self!"
Joren gave the man a blank face, which Uivan took as a mocking face. This infuriated Uivan, forgetting the man could be dangerous. He launched his attack, swiftly moving around and striking Joren's body.
The part of the attire was torn, and several cuts were made. However, Joren felt the slightest pain.
After standing still for a couple of seconds, Joren was tired. With a single swing of his sword.
His blade collided with Uivan's as the small blade shattered into pieces, leaving the crowd and the minion with wide eyes and mouths agape.
Uivan himself stared down at the bladeless sword.
'There's no way; it's broken? Impossible.' He gritted his teeth.
'NO! It's impossible.'
Uivan felt something sharp near his face as he looked up. He saw a sharp metal pointing at him, an inch away from piercing his face.
"You're defeated; now you will leave this place."
Gritting and inwardly grumbling, with his minions he left before saying.
"You will pay for this."
There was tremdiously ire in his eyes that was burning bright.
As they left, Joren returned to the shop and sat in his seat as if nothing had happened.
People stared at him without really knowing what to say. Should they cheer him as their hero, that wouldn't do. He wasn't there hero, nor Joren considered the thought.
Joren looked at the cook and spoke.
"You can cook in peace now."