An adult man was thrown straight out of a house!

The strength needed for that was far beyond what an ordinary person could possess. At the very least, it would require about ten points in strength to toss an adult male as easily as throwing a sack. Quiet Town rarely saw deadly brawls, so Maria, holding Felia's hand, didn't rush to intervene.

She was curious—when had Seth Town gained such a person?

"Damn Foreigner…!"

The burly man on the ground cursed while clutching his backside, humiliated at being thrown into the street in front of everyone. At that moment, a man emerged from inside, hiccupping from drink, a tankard in one hand that he occasionally tipped back for another gulp.

"Fight, they're gonna fight!"

Felia's eyes sparkled as she grabbed tightly onto Maria's sleeve.

It was obvious that the priest's younger daughter had a natural taste for violence. Perhaps she shouldn't have been a believer in the Radiant Lord, but rather a follower of the Nameless God of War—that way, Pastor Lynn wouldn't be driven to an early grave by his youngest child.

Maria, of course, heard her sister's excited whisper.

The black-robed nun's lips twitched twice, but she didn't scold her sister for failing to keep a lady's composure. In her scarlet, crystal-clear eyes was a glimmer of curiosity. The man who had just stepped out of the tavern was clearly an extraordinary being—the surging vitality within him was so intense that it made Maria feel short of breath.

The townsfolk gathered to watch clearly did not have Maria's eye for such things.

Seeing that a rare drunken brawl was about to break out, they neither called the guards nor dispersed, but instead crowded closer, egging things on.

The burly man got up from the ground like an enraged bull, aiming straight for the man's bright red scarf, throwing a heavy punch.

The other man stood loose and unguarded, slipping past the blow with drunken ease.

If he struck to kill, that oaf wouldn't survive a second!

Maria's eyes lit up the moment the Foreigner moved. His hand was steady as it landed on the side of the burly man's body where no strength was gathered, and from there he simply led him along, letting the man's brute force expend itself uselessly—like leading a stubborn mule. The ease of it, as natural as breathing or drinking water, was telling.

The precision in controlling the release of human muscle strength, and the hard-earned skill behind it, carried the scent of someone undefeated across a hundred battles.

"Hey, friend, I told you I didn't take your silver. How about you stop now?"

Sitting atop the railing, the Foreigner drank his low-strength ale, his slightly tipsy look carrying an infuriating air of mockery.

He had finally found a tavern, and he didn't want this petty mess to ruin his mood. These rude country folk didn't bother with reason—just jumped straight to "friendly exchanges." He had only gone along with it out of politeness. If he revealed his identity as an extraordinary being, the whole matter would be over instantly.

But clearly, the hospitable residents of Seth weren't about to stop just because the Foreigner said so.

The burly man scrambled up again, tore off his shirt, revealing bulging muscles and thick chest hair. The Foreigner gave a helpless shrug, his lazy expression shifting into something slightly more serious. It was about time to end this dull bullfight.

"Stop."

The clear, cold voice evoked the image of a northern frost rose—beautiful yet carrying a chill that kept others at a distance. At once, the crowd went silent. Even the drunken brute hurriedly covered his torn clothing, lowering his head in shame.

Such was the effect of a single sentence. The Foreigner, who had been ready to fight, also paused.

The crowd parted on its own, revealing a striking black-robed nun walking in with measured steps. Her silver hair gleamed, her pale features delicate and cold. The Foreigner almost whistled, but when he saw the genuine respect on the faces of every resident toward her, he wisely kept his mouth shut to avoid triggering a mass beating.

"Foreigner, I'd like to know what happened here."

"Pretty nun, are you the town's stationed extraordinary?"

"No… but my father is."

The Foreigner rubbed his nose. He hadn't intended to alert the town's authorities—he had his own goals to pursue. But now that the daughter of the local overseer was here, it would be rude not to say something. And so, what could have become a bloody brawl dissolved under Maria's reputation.

The burly man's missing silver was also found—under one of the tavern's tables.

———

In Fractured, small towns usually had voluntary stationed extraordinary beings, often clergy of the Church. They maintained order and safeguarded their assigned territory, using what power they had to protect townsfolk from darkness and evil.

Most wandering extraordinary travelers kept good relations with such overseers, seeking supplies and aid.

But some disliked constraints.

They preferred the wilds, relying on skill and strength to gather what they needed, often looking down on weak overseers. Those who didn't want their little secrets uncovered were even less willing to deal with them. The Foreigner was clearly such a man.

Still… if a pretty nun was tagging along, well, that was different.

All the way, Felia bared her teeth at the hat-wearing Foreigner. She hated this guy—he looked at her sister Maria with a suspiciously improper gaze! The Foreigner, for his part, found the priest's younger daughter's sudden hostility baffling.

"You should learn from your sister. Stop glaring at me or you'll scare off your future suitors."

"Hmph, rude Foreigner."

"Tsk, tsk. Sister Maria, is she really your blood sister? She has none of your manners."

The Foreigner leaned closer with a teasing grin, earning more tooth-baring from Felia. If Maria hadn't held her back, she would have kicked his knee with her short legs.

"Sir, please stop making such jokes."

"All right, all right… for your sake, I won't hold it against the little one."

His flippant tone was as irritating as ever, but Maria wasn't so rigid. Something about this Foreigner felt familiar—perhaps a famous NPC from before her crossing into this world. But no name came to mind, so she kept observing this manly Foreigner's identity and strength

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