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The other members of the Tzedkah Guild exchanged glances before nodding firmly when they heard Grid's declaration. Confidence slowly returned to their eyes. If Grid was willing to step forward, then they would not fall back either.
Alan watched their reactions and smiled faintly.
"Good. Then let's fight," he said calmly. "We'll do this one-on-one. Me against all of you—one at a time. You can decide the order yourselves. Meet me in half an hour."
They nodded, surprised by how casually he spoke about fighting an entire elite guild alone.
Without waiting for another word, Alan turned and left.
He walked toward the open center of the village. It hadn't originally been an arena, but after the recent battles and the destruction of several large buildings, a vast open space had naturally formed. Broken walls, scattered stones, and burned debris surrounded the area, leaving behind a wide battlefield bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun.
Alan arrived early.
He sat quietly on a fallen stone slab at the edge of the clearing and pulled out his flute.
A gentle breeze passed through the ruined streets as he began to play.
This time, it wasn't Krishna's Grace. Instead, a soft Celtic melody flowed into the air—light, wandering notes that carried both nostalgia and calm strength. The tune echoed through the empty space, mixing strangely with the scars of battle around him.
Villagers and players who were still nearby slowed their movements. Some sat down quietly, listening. Even the tension in the air seemed to soften as the melody wrapped around the battlefield like a warm cloak.
Meanwhile, half an hour later…
The members of the Tzedkah Guild arrived together.
They expected to see Alan preparing weapons or warming up his skills—but instead, they found him sitting peacefully, playing music in the middle of a battlefield.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Grid narrowed his eyes slightly.
He's… playing again? Even before a fight?
But beneath the calm melody, they all felt it—an invisible pressure radiating from Alan's presence. It was relaxed… yet terrifyingly steady, like a warrior who never doubted the outcome of a battle.
The final note faded into the air.
Alan opened his eyes slowly and stood up, tucking the flute away.
"Well," he said, stretching lightly as he faced them, a faint smile on his lips.
"Who's first?"
The villagers and nearby players exchanged uneasy glances after hearing Alan's words. Many of them frowned as they looked toward the Tzedkah Guild. To them, it seemed like their hero was about to be ambushed. Even though Tzedkah guild was the leader here in Bairan Village, they couldn't hide the hostility rising in their eyes due to the misunderstanding.
Seeing the tension, Alan quickly raised his hand.
"Relax, everyone. We're just having a spar," he said with a calm smile. "Go and call everyone. Let the Yatan Church know we aren't afraid of them. They may bring destruction—but we will rise again!"
His voice rang with confidence, and the villagers immediately cheered loudly.
The atmosphere shifted in an instant.
The Tzedkah Guild was stunned as they watched the entire village come alive with renewed energy. People began moving with purpose, their expressions filled with determination. Jishuka, who held leadership authority over the village's forces, suddenly received a series of notifications.
[The People of Bairan Village under your leadership are motivated.]
[The chance of new talents being born has increased.]
[Some villagers have broken past their limits.]
[Two new Talents have emerged in Bairan Village. Like phoenixes reborn after destruction.]
Jishuka stared at the notifications in shock.
He shifted the entire mood… just like that, she thought, glancing at Alan. He really knows how to play this game perfectly.
And then another thought slipped into her mind.
Not to mention… he looks incredibly cool.
Her cheeks reddened slightly as she watched Alan standing under the warm sunlight, the golden glow highlighting his calm expression and confident posture.
"Jishuka."
She didn't respond.
"Jishuka!" the voice called again.
She blinked and snapped out of her daze, turning to see Vanter staring at her with a confused expression.
"What are you daydreaming about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"W-what? I wasn't daydreaming!" Jishuka said quickly, her face turning even redder. "I was just… thinking about how to plan the fight."
She crossed her arms and looked away, unable to admit that she had been momentarily lost while watching Alan under the sunlight.
"Regas will fight you first," Jishuka said as she looked at Alan. He nodded calmly. Soon, the bare-upper-body Regas stepped forward and stood in front of him.
"I look forward to this match," Regas said. Alan gave a small nod in return.
Regas… the Rank 1 martial artist, Alan thought as he removed his own upper clothes, matching Regas's stance as he faced him directly.
"Then let's fight," Alan said.
Regas blinked in confusion. "Aren't you a swordsman?" he asked.
"I am," Alan replied with a nod. "But I want to fight the Rank 1 martial artist in a proper martial arts match."
Regas frowned slightly at first, but soon relaxed.
There's no contempt in his eyes, Regas realized as he met Alan's clear gaze. He isn't looking down on me… he genuinely wants to fight me as a martial artist.
"You don't need to worry," Alan added. "I have Weapon Mastery, so I can use all kinds of weapons." He equipped a pair of gauntlets.
They were the Red Orc Chief's Gauntlets. Orcs were a powerful warrior race, and Alan had always enjoyed fighting them the most, which allowed him to battle many Orc tribes over time.
The Red Orcs of the Seltain Plains near the Haken Kingdom were martial artists, and martial artists primarily used gauntlets as their weapons. These particular gauntlets had been dropped by the Red Orc Chief himself—making them perfect for this fight.
" But where are your Gauntlets?" Alan asked as Regas was not wearing any gauntlet.
" A real martial artist fight with just his body" Regas said as in matter of fact.
"...." Alan looked at others as they just shook his head.