Ch.162Report on the Downfall of Charity (4)

Kain tapped the floor with his cane, displaying his composure. The rough-looking man, about two spans taller than Kain, found this composure irritating. But he wasn’t a dull-witted fellow.

“Planning to cause trouble inside?”

The shop was cramped and cluttered, filled with expensive ornaments and dangerous items like saws and knives.

In such a place, it was difficult to push through with numbers. Even more so if the commotion happened in Francesco’s cane workshop, which attracted attention for better or worse.

That’s why the man was quite surprised when Kain answered, “No.” He was astonished that Kain would willingly give up his advantage, yet somehow felt insulted by it.

Instead of replying, the man tilted his head sideways. The men behind him rushed out through the back door.

Beyond the back door stretched a street wide enough for three carriages to pass without difficulty.

Along the sides of the road stood shops and stalls, with spectators gathering as they discovered something interesting to watch.

As soon as Kain stepped outside, the door behind him slammed shut. Glancing through the glass window, he saw Francesco and his apprentice holding hands while staring intently at him.

Kain gave a bitter smile and turned his attention to the men before him.

All four men were more physically imposing than Kain, and their leader was particularly tall. By Venelucian standards, he was practically a giant.

“What’s the problem? I didn’t cause any disturbance in there.”

The leader looked Kain up and down. His appearance was utterly shabby. Split lips, hollow eyes, disheveled hair, and dirty, filthy clothes.

He wore Imperial attire, but it was hard to tell whether they were new clothes or discarded ones he had picked up. Even sailors on trading vessels that regularly traveled to and from the Empire preferred Imperial clothing for its practicality.

Thinking Kain was either a deranged beggar or a drunkard who didn’t appear drunk, the man decided to reason with him gently.

“The shop owner was rolling around on the floor?”

“He got excited on his own and fell.”

“The master’s apprentice called you a thief.”

“That’s a misunderstanding.”

“Then what about the cane in your hand? Is that yours?”

“I borrowed it.”

“Put it down and get lost.”

“That’s difficult. I took this because of you people. You’re the ones who dragged me out after listening only to the woman inside.”

The crowd of onlookers had doubled in size. They giggled while watching the scene. The man, disliking the situation, clicked his tongue and looked around.

“Let me say it again,” Kain tapped the ground with his cane. “I didn’t do anything. The girl inside arbitrarily treated me like a thief, so I deserve an apology.”

“Do you know who the young lady inside is?”

“Should I?”

Ooh, murmured the crowd. Their eyes filled with curiosity. The man was now certain of Kain’s identity. Either a beggar from some rural island or trash who had fled from the Empire.

“She’s the daughter of the Stonemason Guild Master. You know what the Stonemason Guild is, right?”

In surprise, Kain raised his eyebrows slightly. The Stonemason Guild. One of the influential guilds that moved Venelucia, and one of the most vocal interest groups.

“Now that you know, I’ll give you a chance to make amends for your rudeness. Put it down and leave. You should know your place before you overreach.”

Instead of answering, Kain remained silent.

‘No wonder they’re all tall and well-built.’

The men before him weren’t simple workers. They were security guards from the Stonemason Guild, one of the powerful guilds moving Venelucia.

Judging by the reactions of people around, there must have been many others who had bothered the “young lady” inside before Kain. The workers would have acted this way each time.

This kind of disturbance would only put the Stonemason Guild Master on the gossips’ tongues.

The loyal man before him must know this too, which is why he was trying to suppress his anger.

“The young lady doesn’t listen to her father much, does she?”

At Kain’s question, nearby merchants clapped and burst into laughter. The man, whose goodwill had been met with insult, twisted his lips.

The man wanted to avoid this situation. Conversely, Kain was trying to provoke a fight.

He had wanted to meet Leonardo as quietly as possible.

Kain had left this city two years ago. His old comrades, at least as far as he knew, had mostly been executed, exiled, or imprisoned, except for the cane maker behind him.

However, someone might recognize Kain, who had been practically Beatrice’s shadow. He had accompanied her to public places many times as her escort.

Initially, he had planned to ask Francesco for a connection. With the renowned cane maker’s network, it would be easier to meet the mercenary captain.

Francesco’s vehement refusal was within expectations, but Kain hadn’t known he was connected to the Stonemason Guild in this way.

‘This works out well.’

He decided to think positively. Leaving now would make things more ambiguous. It was better to catch the eye of someone in charge of the Stonemason Guild’s security.

That’s why he tried to draw the well-built men into a fight.

“Since he can’t break his daughter’s stubbornness, he sent four watchdogs to chase away the flies instead. Or is he trying to prevent her from having an affair with that flirt inside? I thought Venelucia was quite liberal about romance, if not marriage.”

The man’s lips trembled.

“Or could it be that you have feelings for that young lady yourself?”

Ooooh, exclamations. Applause. Cheers. The leader signaled to the men around him.

The youngest-looking one disappeared behind them and soon returned with four large staffs.

They were long canes used by coachmen, reaching about shoulder height of an average person. Much longer than Kain’s, which only came up to his waist.

“You’ve gone too far. For those who won’t listen to words, we must teach a lesson with clubs!”

The men charged at once. Solid oak clubs came flying.

* * * * *

Cane fighting differs from swordsmanship in many ways. First, without a blade, slashing isn’t as powerful as with a sword.

Yet it’s also different from swinging a club. It’s too light to be called a blunt weapon.

Therefore, cane fighting allows for quick and continuous exchanges. One can use attack techniques that ordinary martial arts might not consider.

Typical movements include thrusting, striking, hitting, and blocking while repeatedly sitting down and standing up.

No matter how sturdy a man is, it’s difficult to do this with a sword. A sword is ultimately a piece of metal, and metal is heavy.

The security guards were also Venelucians, and they too had learned cane fighting.

Being entrusted with guarding the Stonemason Guild daughter, their skills were quite decent. But Kain’s technique was unlike any cane fighting they had ever seen.

Responding to thrusts with faster thrusts, and to downward strikes with faster downward strikes was clearly Imperial swordsmanship.

It differed from the Venelucian method, which emphasized blocking and counterattacking.

However, the way he entered the trajectory of the opponent’s cane and subdued them with body techniques was authentically Venelucian.

“What a waste of size, what a waste!”

A regretful cry came from among the crowd. But the men, though indignant, were genuinely confused.

On an open field, Kain would have had difficulty winning. The difference in weapon length, plus a one-against-four fight.

But the situation took an odd turn due to the semicircular crowd of onlookers and the solid stone wall behind.

The men couldn’t swing their long canes freely. If they swung wildly, they might hit spectators.

Each time, the front row of onlookers would step back a little, but those behind, not wanting to be pushed out, would push forward instead.

Moreover, the canes were obstacles to each other. It was common for feet to get caught on the end of a cane swung by someone nearby, or for canes to tangle with each other.

And this was a very unfamiliar experience for the men.

The cane Kain held was solid yet light. It was made from processed iron from the northern desert.

But it wasn’t enough to withstand the weight of oak poles. So, when canes collided, Kain’s flimsy iron cane should have flown away.

But that didn’t happen.

The beggar didn’t strike away the men’s canes. He gently pushed them aside. With that simple movement, he could block one man’s movements.

Swinging a long, heavy cane meant that the center of gravity was constantly shifting.

Kain dove into their space whenever they took a step. He lowered his posture as if sitting down, struck and twisted their insteps and ankles, then quickly retreated.

“You rat bastard!”

The excited men charged. Kain persistently targeted their shins, knees, ankles, and insteps. He acted as if there was nothing else worth touching above those points.

He deflected incoming poles with his cane and stepped on toes with the heel of his shoe. He quickly sat down to hit ankle bones and rolled sideways to avoid attacks.

They tried to swing their poles, but it was too late. Horizontal swings made their comrades scream, and upward swings caught on the stone floor.

When they tried to strike downward, the beggar somehow dodged sideways and then struck the long pole with his cane.

With their attacks already missing and their poles being struck down, the men helplessly dropped their staffs.

“You son of a bitch! Who do you think you’re messing with?”

The men didn’t realize it, but the watching spectators and Kain saw it. Their footwork was becoming rougher, and their posture was collapsing.

A misdirected pole shattered a glass window. Kain stomped on the pole, breaking it, then kicked off the wall and leaped forward. He rolled once and swung his cane at the men’s calves.

“You bastard… aaaagh!”

The men fell with screams. It was the accumulated damage persistently inflicted on their legs, ankles, and insteps.

Now the men couldn’t even walk properly. Still, the leader-like man somehow managed to stand up and take a stance.

“You… where did such a bastard… fight! Let’s fight!”

“You can’t even stand properly,” Kain trailed off.

A chorus of jeers erupted from the spectators. “Booooo!” They couldn’t hide their disappointment.

To those expecting a spectacular fight with blood and flesh flying, Kain’s movements were utterly unsightly.

What grace or intensity was there in jumping up and down while only hitting legs and feet like swinging a switch?

“Enough!”

A sharp whistle sounded. The fallen men all stood up at once.

A man with a sharp appearance, slightly shorter and with graying hair, approached. He was dressed in fine clothes with jeweled buttons.

“You fools, get out of here before you make more of a spectacle!”

The burly men limped away. The leader glanced at Kain before disappearing, but that was all. The gray-haired man sighed deeply.

“You. What’s your name?”

Kain looked at the gray-eyed man.

“And who might you be?”

“Antonello Montone.” The gray-haired man added, “People call me condottiere.”

In Venelucian, it means mercenary captain. Guessing it was to boast of being a long-established mercenary rather than a wandering one, Kain nodded.

“You can call me Iago. What do you want?”

“Where did you learn it?”

The man’s eyes were sharp, but Kain pretended not to understand.

“Learn what?”

“That rude way of speaking.”

“For that,” Kain leaned his cane against the wall, “wouldn’t it be proper to buy me a meal first before asking?”

A twisted smile appeared on the mercenary captain’s face.