Chapter 15 - Causing A Ruckus

It was about midday when Drake and Higler arrived at Fallen Star City. He had expected something as big as Blue Coral City, but was surprised to discover that it was little more than a village. The wall was just a few meters tall, and the buildings were mostly two or three-storey tall.

Nevertheless, the security around the city was as tight as any other place. About ten Menoraz soldiers guarded the gates, and a line was created outside, while people were thoroughly checked.

Drake was about to get into the line, but Higler rode his Yscalent past it, so he followed. The people outside the city looked at them with anger, but when they saw what the black man was holding, it was replaced by respect.

Higler had put on his chest a bronze badge, shaped like a crown. Twelve minuscule stones, each one of a different color, adorned the crown. Right in the middle of it were the words 'Confederation Ranger'.

Seeing the badge was enough to make everyone step back and give them space. Higler smiled slightly, as if he was apologizing for cutting the line, but Drake could tell he was somewhat proud.

They rode right through the gate, and Drake nodded at the sentries. He had already noticed that they treated him as a ranger, since he was riding with one, but that was a misunderstanding he didn't plan on clearing up.

"Now that you already caused your sensation, what are we doing?"

Hearing Drake's mocking tone, Higler turned to him with a raised eyebrow. He was getting more and more daring. However, a smirk soon was plastered on his face, sending chills down Drake's spine. On these last few days, he had learned that nothing good came from this smile.

"How do you fancy a bar fight?"

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After a few minutes of walking around, they finally stopped at a bar named River's Oasis. Drake didn't find the name very interesting, but Higler was adamant they stopped there. He decided to do so after asking around and learning that the owner of the bar was Nicholas Cramer, one of the members of the Association of Riverplate. It didn't take a genius to understand that the ranger wasn't planning on drinking anything.

They tied their mounts at the metal poles left there for this. It was quite an amusing sight, three or four Yscalents side by side with a few cars and motorcycles that were parked there.

Before they entered, Higler told Drake to follow his lead, and put away his badge. He shrugged, and entered the bar behind the ranger. Frainer floated behind them, while Warkin stayed outside to make sure no one would try and steal their things. Besides, if a fight broke out - and it surely would - the Ifere risked burning down the whole building.

River's Oasis was about what Drake had expected. A few tables and chairs, an open area in the middle for people to walk, and a big counter behind which were two barmen. Loudspeakers in the ceiling, half-hidden by the smoke of cigarettes, played music. People were laughing and yelling, most of them clearly drunk.

Waitresses and waiters walked around distributing drinks, and sometimes flirting with the clients. Drake whistled. That brought him back to his time at university, when he and his friends would go out without a dime in their pockets, trying to find somewhere to get drunk and forget their studies.

Squeezing through the crowd - and it was crowded, even though it was barely past lunch - the two of them arrived at the counter.

"Two beers. And cold, please."

The barman nodded, and soon returned with two glasses filled to the brim. Higler grabbed one for himself and passed the other to Drake.

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

Pretty quickly, they downed their drinks, and asked for a refill. This time, Drake refrained from drinking it all at once. He knew Higler came here to cause trouble, so he wanted to be clear-headed for when it happened. He just didn't expect that trouble would find him first.

While the ranger was trying to discover something about Cramer from a particularly talkative waitress, Drake was leaning on the counter and looking around. Suddenly, a large man saw Frainer resting on his shoulder, and whispered something to his friends. When Drake saw him getting up and looking straight at him, he knew the target was him.

"What do we have here? What, are you babysitting this little thing? You should have asked for a glass of milk for him and one for you, kid! Hahaha!"

The two other men sitting on his table laughed crazily too, as if he just said the funniest thing in the world. Meanwhile, the crowd opened a circle around them, already expecting a fight.

Drake glanced at Higler, who shrugged as if saying 'show me what you got'. Seeing that, he picked up Frainer and gave it to the ranger, before walking towards the big man.

"You know, I've been feeling a strange smell ever since I walked in. I guess it's from you and your friends. You should go back to the sewers where you came from. The rats must be missing you."

It wasn't the best insult, Drake would admit. But, for a drunk, hot-headed troublemaker, it was enough.

"You little sh*t! I'm gonna crack... Uff!"

Red with anger, the man swung his fist at Drake, who crouched under it, and answered with a punch to his stomach, leaving him breathless. Before he could react, Drake followed with a jab straight to his face, sending him staggering backwards.

Higler whistled, impressed, while the crowd cheered. Drake wasn't small by any means, standing at about 180 centimeters, and was well-built. However, before the big man, he looked tiny. To see him beat him like that was surprising.

What none of them knew was that Drake had had his fair share of bar fights. If he wasn't a little hot-headed, he wouldn't have dared to adventure in the wilderness. So, he had quite a lot of experience with bringing down opponents bigger than him.

However, the fight wasn't over yet. Although he was a little dizzy after the two blows, the troublemaker was still up. Yelling, he threw himself at Drake, trying to take him down. But he was prepared. Stepping to the left, he dodged, and holding his hands together, he brought them down in a brutal slam. Hit in the back of the neck, the man collapsed without a sound.

"Careful!"

Drake was admiring his work when he heard someone yell. Instinctively, he moved forwards a few steps, just in time to evade a flying chair. One of the man's companions had tried to hit him with it, while the other held a bottle in his hands.

They both advanced towards him, ready to avenge their friend. However, when one of them swung the bottle at Drake's head, a hand grabbed his wrist and twisted it, forcing him to drop his improvised weapon.

Higler was standing next to them, a smile on his face as he shook his head. Drake couldn't hide a grin of his own. He knew the ranger wouldn't be able to stay out of it.

"Two against one hardly seems fair, right? How about we even those odds?"

Even before he finished speaking, he was already punching the poor drunkard. It was truly beautiful. Two blows straight to the gut, followed by a left hook and an uppercut. In mere seconds, he was already down on the floor.

Drake was so focused on the display of brutality he almost forgot about his own adversary. Almost.

When the third man tried to hit him with what remained of the chair he had smashed, Drake tilted his body back. Driven by the strength he had put behind the missed swing, the man staggered forward, and all Drake had to do was put his feet in front of him for him to stumble and fall face-first to the ground.

Drake and Higler laughed while the crowd seemed disappointed that the show had ended so fast. They were about to return to the counter when the music stopped and a voice screamed louder than the noise.

"What the hell is happening here?!"