The red-faced man crawled back to his feet. Arlan stood up as well, but the next moment, he saw that man fall back to the floor, ugly crying with tears and snot on his face.
"Ahh!!!"
Oriana had kicked that man between his legs with all her strength and had him rolling on the ground. Then, she pumped a fist in the air, causing the crowd around them to cheer and let out more boisterous laughter.
"Good job, young hero!"
"Admirable, admirable!"
"Cheers to the young hero!"
"Hey, I bet the boy would win. Give me five coppers—"
It appeared some even made a bet about the brawl. Her drunken self took the support of the table and roared, "Oi, old man, since I made you win, you have to buy me a drink from your winnings!"
Arlan was torn between laughter and tears. This woman was so brave and mercenary—she didn't need to be protected at all. Was there anyone like her among all the women he had met?
