The Stolen Princess And The Blind Prince

"Sorry lady." Came a rough, smeared voice.

Electricity seemed to crackle in the air; Wulin assumed Mama Peach was still staring at the offenders, waiting.

"We're not from around here!" Came another man, his tone smug.

"Strangers," Boulder reported.

He described them to the group as best he could:

From the way the men hovered around each other, there were seven of them. Their clothes were well worn, covered in miscellaneous stains.

Boulder also described the instruments glittering around their belts. They were an array of weapons: swords, chains, hooks, and the like. Some of the silhouettes were so strange looking, the older man wasn't sure how to describe them.

The man who had apologized, looked to be their leader. Boulder explained that his clothes and hair were the least dirty. He was the best dressed, in some sort of embroidered green smock. He had a sword, and multiple pouches wrapped around his waist and upper body; and his nose looked crooked, like it had been broken but never been set back properly.

Right now, his feet rested firmly on a table.

"They sound like trouble…" Porridge said.

The others nodded; not sure how likely a fight was to break out.

It was past midnight in the bar, and besides the kitchen staff, and the usual's, the Peach Bud was near empty.

"We're from the south!" The leader slurred, "We're looking for honest work!"

"And good p.u.s.s.y!" Another shouted.

The group laughed. Some of the more sober guests got up to leave. Rice Pudding noted that two more men were hovering near the exit.

"Just how big is their group you think?" Rice Pudding asked.

Wulin was unconcerned with how many. The most important thing was if his group could beat them…

Wulin's group were less 'bandits', and more 'harassers.' They never carried weapons, only tools. Things like wire, shields, and small dull knives. Bigger things, like axes, torches, and hooks, they kept with their horses.

But these guys, they looked like swords for hire. Bad business.

A large, house-sized woman in an orange apron came barreling out from the kitchen. The customers could feel her steps rocking the floorboards.

She got right in their leader's face and said: "Don't make me tell you again."

Their leader didn't move.

"Is that any way to treat a guest?" Came one of his henchmen.

Without warning, Mama Peach grabbed the poor bastard. She threw him, along with the two men blocking the door, out of the pub.

"You follow my rules or you get out!" She shouted, hands on her h.i.p.s.

There was a tense moment. The air buzzed in anticipation.

Then, a thick chain wrapped around her neck. She was slammed onto the table by two more henchmen, pretending to be customers. Their leader, stood up, and leaned in close.

"Piss off old hag!" He spat, smashing a pint on the table. He glanced around, cheering, "This place looks like good business, right?!"

A chorus of confirmations rang, and the men got to work.

---

"I guess their group is most of this place..." Boulder said.

The men had starting looting the place. Smashing tables, chairs, whatever they could get their hands on. Mama Peach had regained her senses, and right now, was struggling to unpin herself.

"What do we do?" Rice Pudding asked.

Wulin felt eyes on him. They got their answer when a loud crash from the kitchen, then a scream.

"We help." He climbed on the table and rushed into the kitchen.

"I'll free Ms. Peach!" Boulder said, grabbing his shield.

"We'll help!" said Rice Pudding, grabbing his brother.

---

Upon entering the kitchen Wulin expanded his senses, listening.

He heard the crunch of broken dishes beneath him. He kept himself low, searching for something he could use to defend himself.

His fingertips quickly scanned the floor. He hadn't forgotten about the scream from earlier, but just wire and a. empty sack just wasn't enough.

After a few moments, he found a pair of chopsticks, two spoons, and a ladle. All of them were heavy and cool to the touch. Good, they're iron.

He tied the chopstick's ends together, tucking them into his shirt.

"Kyaa! No! S-stay away!" He heard a girl stream.

There was a heavy 'thunk', and then clattering. A man g.r.o.a.n.e.d, while a pair of lighter steps ran away. More things fell onto the floor. Denser footsteps hurriedly followed the lighter ones.

Three people in total. But how many bad guys?

"F.u.c.k, she hits hard man!"

"Look at her! It'll be worth it! We just need to get that pan out of her hands!"

Two. OK, got it. Wulin was pretty much filled in now. The voices had given him a clearer idea of where they were. They were in the back, near the pantry, which was just around the corner, then straight. The girl must've locked herself in. He expanded his mental circle slightly, prioritizing the sharpening of his senses. He had to move fast, so tripping and making noise was something that needed to be avoided.

In a breath, he had turned the corner, smashing the ladle into the necks of one of the men. He crumpled to the ground solidly.

"Huh? Who're you?!" The other shouted.

Wulin felt the man swing his weapon. He held up the ladle to block, reinforcing his hands, and feet.

"You think you can block my axe with that? You're either blind or stupid! Which one?"

Wulin hated these types. So much needless talking. Were you that insecure?

The axe came down snapping the utensil in two.

"Ha!" the man shouted in triumph.

But Wulin was on the move. Once he felt the ladle split, his feet moved him left, then forwards. As the man's swing cut through air, Wulin punched him solidly in the ribs.

He keeled over, wheezing. Wulin hit him again, knocking him out. He checked both of their pulses, before turning to the pantry door. He knocked twice, politely. No response.

He felt for the handle, unsure of if the pantry was locked, or if it even had a lock. There was no resistance, and the doors flipped open.

"Get away!!"

A girl leapt at him, swinging something heavy. Without thinking, Wulin crossed him arms in front of him, his forearms absorbing the hit. Damn, he thought. This girl hits like a man twice her size!

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she said, backing off. "My name is Mi-hee."

With that, Wulin sensed the girl's animosity disappear.

"That explains a lot…" He mumbled.

"Hm? What was that?" She sounded like she was smiling but…

"Are you ok?" Wulin corrected himself, remembering the dull ache in his arms.

There was a sudden smashing sound, followed by a roar of fury.

"YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT!"

It was Mama Peach!

"Oh no! Granny!"

Mi-hee pushed past Wulin, her 'weapon' in hand, returning to the fight. Wulin followed her.