Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV Tears welled and streamed down his face while it mingled with snot, ale, and blood. It created a grotesque mask of humiliation as the spicy concoction overwhelmed his senses. The surrounding brawl on the pub floor came to a sudden halt as every head turned toward the commotion. Even the most hardened adventurers stood wide-eyed, watching as the infamous Declan, the brutish Gold-rank terror of Vord City—floundered and spluttered like a drunk drowning in a puddle. His pain and humiliation mirrored that of countless victims he had bullied and extorted. Murmurs spread quickly and most of the crowd watched the spectacle with unrestrained glee. Grins broke out among the stronger patrons and some even openly chuckled. "Looks like Declan's finally tasting his own medicine!" a small old demon shouted as he raised his withered hand in a mock salute. "Aye, serves the bastard right!" another adventurer chimed in, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Ethan couldn't help but be mildly surprised at how effective the outcome was. Poor guy… I only meant to break his nose. Who knew he would be so unlucky to humiliate himself like this? Ethan thought dryly. But this is far more entertaining. If he were a normal person, the sensory overload might have killed him. Lucky for him, he is not. Virelle and Velcy looked at him with wide eyes and were left utterly speechless as they had seen it all. Their senses had never left Ethan and they had seen the way he had smashed the stone cup on the red-headed demon's face. They had no words to say but the slight happiness in Virelle's eyes betrayed her inner feelings as she thought with joy filling her heart. He did it for me!! Unlucky to be you dumbass, you shouldn't have tried to ogle me. She thought this as she looked at the struggling Gold Rank Adventurer with disdain. Virelle seemed to have forgotten Ethan's earlier transgressions of staring at that dark elf's ass as her mind was already planning all sorts of rewards for her Brother Ethan. As Declan's senses slowly returned, his coughing fit subsided and he straightened slowly. Blood still dripped from his nose, and his eyes were red and swollen with a palpable rage in them but he ignored his injuries and shifted his focus entirely on finding the culprit. He shoved himself to his feet with a guttural growl and flipped the table. His sudden action sent his groveling lackeys sprawling on the pub's floor. The black-haired demoness scrambled back and glared daggers at him as she regained her footing. The once jovial atmosphere thickened with tension. "WHO WAS IT?!" Declan roared and his voice boomed with fury. "SHOW YOURSELF, OR I WILL STACK THE CORPSES HIGHER THAN THE WALLS!" Silence reigned, but all eyes flickered with a mix of fear and amusement. The unfortunate bronze rank adventurer who had originally held the obsidian mug trembled in his chair as sweat trickled down his brow. While no one had noticed the sleight of hand, he knew it was his mug that had struck the infamous Declan, but he had no idea how it had happened. Please, don't let him find out the truth. He frantically prayed in his heart to some unknown god with fear. Ethan, meanwhile, remained calm with an unreadable expression on his face. He had no intention of stepping forward for now, and neither did anyone else. The pub's patrons exchanged nervous glances, but no one spoke up. Declan's rage only swelled as his bloodshot eyes swept the room—until they locked onto Ethan. "YOU!" he snarled as he jabbed a bloodied finger in Ethan's direction. "THIS IS YOUR DOING!" Ethan arched an eyebrow. He was fairly certain the fool had no real proof. Ah, he must be latching onto my earlier taunts to vent his bruised pride and anger at being sneak attacked. Feigning innocence, Ethan let his brow furrow in mock confusion. "Me? I've been standing here this whole time," he said in a calm voice but also laced it with subtle mockery. "Perhaps next time you should watch where you sit." A few scattered chuckles rippled nervously through the crowd, but Declan remained stone-faced. Without a word, he slammed his fist into the already toppled table and shattered it into splinters. His lips curled into a twisted grin as he flexed his fingers and his eyes drilled into Ethan like he planned to tear him limb from limb. But before Declan could move, a languid voice sliced through the tension like a sharp blade. "That's enough." The crowd instinctively parted to reveal a thin, wiry demon with a familiar face. It was the betting collector, the same old demon who had taken their fees before the trial. He still counted his coins and elemental crystals with lazy precision but a subtle pressure emanated from him and caused the entire room to go quiet. "Warden Leon," someone whispered, and the name rippled like thunder across the gathered adventurers. Leon finally lifted his gaze from his coins as his rat-like eyes scanned the room before settling briefly on Ethan and then locking onto Declan. "Brawling in the guildhall, the guild's premises, and the Adventurer's Pub is a violation," Leon said coolly. "Continue, and you know what happens next." Declan's fury was palpable as his clenched jaw worked furiously, but no words squeaked out of his mouth. The threat beneath Leon's casual tone was clear. Ethan remained still with his arms folded as if none of this concerned him. Then, a strange shift overtook Declan. His eyes gleamed with sudden composure as if a switch had been flipped. The rage and humiliation melted away and left only eerie calm in its place. Declan exhaled slowly and turned toward Leon in a steady and respectful voice. "My apologies, Warden Leon. I have lost my honor today that's why I acted out of hand. I won't shame your establishment further." As if you had any honor earlier, Ethan thought inwardly and scoffed with disdain on the outside.