Piggs of Royalty?!

"Are you ok? I heard coughing upstairs so I ran- wait how are you moving your arm?!" She screamed, most likely surprised how I could do such a thing, just a day after I came in, bleeding profusely.

"Oh, I have this major healing ability, which allows me to heal wounds at tremendous speeds. The only reason I could think of why it wouldn't work yesterday is that the monster I fought might have had some Magic-blocking claws or excreted venom that did the same when it bit me. Anyways, I healed my broken bones in my sleep, and all of my wounds are healing as well." I said, showing her my abdomen.

Huh, there aren't any people in this pub in the morning, I noticed. Also, I couldn't find Ashley anywhere. Sitting down at a table in the corner, I waited for my meal to be ready. Playing with my fingers, summoning little wind blades to play around them. With no one around to see me doing this, I found it the best time to practice. That is, until a group of young men came into the pub, yelling and making too much of a racket for me.

"Oi, can you lower it down, please?!" I shouted, trying to get them to act civilized. Knowing that was not going to happen, and by the way, the guys were dressed, especially the guy leading them, I prepared for a confrontation. Seemingly predicting the future, The three guys turned their attention to me, smirking as they sauntered Doi-style over to me, which I thought was cringy as fuck.

I do not know where they learned how to walk like that, but it looked so unnatural that they looked like they permanently disabled their legs. Anyways, stepping up to my table, the leader of this group put his large, pig-like hand on the table, oozing arrogance as he leaned into my personal space.

"Oh, a new face! As you are new, I will inform you about how things work in MY pub." The fatty said, emphasizing that it was his bar. With a sideways glance towards where Doug was cooking my meal, I could see him setting it down, as well as an ashamed expression on his face.

"Oh, I thought that this fine establishment was owned by the kind man behind the bar," I asked, a mix of confusion and a tiny bit of sarcasm in my voice. Ignoring my jest, he went on to explain why he acted as he did.

"Oh, him? Well, my dad is part of the royal family, so I asked him to give me the funds to buy my bar when I turned of age. As I could not run an establishment by myself, I took control of Doug's bar, making him the caretaker. So you see, this is my bar, and I can do whatever I want, including kicking you out. Now, do as I suggest and scream." The pig said to me, trying to act like a source of authority. He does not know how paying for room and board works.

"I am paying to be here, so by law, I can do whatever I want in this bar as well, as long as I do not cause any harm to the establishment itself. So, we seem to be at crossroads with each other. The question is, what are you going to do about it?" I said, daring him to start something. Seeing his face getting red, and his minions getting a little sweaty in the face, the pig huffed and reached over to grab my collar.

Of course, I could not allow him to do that, but it would make for a greater effect when I beat his ass. Not resisting the lunge to pull me to the fat boy's face, which looked like a clump of pudding with eyes and a mouth, he sprayed spittle in my face as he insulted me.

"You may have the right to own a room in this place, but I am part of the royal family! I can have you arrested for even talking back to me. However, that would be too much of a bother for a street rat such as yourself. Why get authorities involved when I have all I need to get you out right here?" The kid sneered. By kid, I mean he acts like one, as he looks around eighteen to nineteen.

Right after he finished that sentence, a red glow, almost just like the glow I saw on Beth's sword, appeared in his first grabbing my clothes. Flowing down his arm like water, his strength seemed to gain twenty times the amount of strength he had before. Lifting me like I was as heavy as the chair I sat in, he spun around and threw me through the air, albeit with a heaving sound. For a fat pig, he sure has some athletic ability.

It, like the auras I sense, can be split into categories based on strength. Reddish-brown is weak or physical, green is stronger and is only used on objects, and blue or any other color is for any intangible type of Magic, which can range from Frank to SSS+ rank. With this in mind, I can roughly guess that the guy before me is a physically enhanced Magic-user, which I assume, at least in this kingdom, is called an Adventurer.

It might be that, for humans, it is the duty of people gifted with Magic to become Adventures, to keep the population down. I could not guess what the ones who do not become Adventurers are called. I need to be informed of this. Well, now is not the time to think about such things. Pulling off my shirt, revealing my massive body, filled with muscles harder than steel, I could smell some of the boys behind the royal piss their pants, obviously feeling my faint killing intent.

Of course, I don't want to kill this kid, but he was annoying me. I just want to teach him a little lesson about who should be ordering who around.