"ASTAAAARRRAA! LEAVE HIM NOW!"
A loud cry from a woman, her voice too sharp and too loud to even reach an intensity that might make lions feel embarrassed.
The wooden walls within which she stood, holding the tray with her trembling hand, reflected the horror in her eyes and the picture outside.
Clank
The tray slipped from her hand, falling as she swiftly hurled herself toward the direction, shocked to see the sight that was going to change the whole idea of the arrangements she made to give her daughter a better future.
To begin with, the scene she was witnessing featured a foot adorned with brown sandals, with a gown bunched up at the knee while one leg was placed on the table.
One hand, delicate yet scarred as if wielding a sword, gripped the collar of a man who resembled a potato bag—clearly trembling, his mouth marked by the knuckles that had just landed blows to his face at the hands of the woman who now lifted him up.
"Ywa... A-Aunt—!—stop this godzilla, now!" The young man trembled, looking toward the middle-aged woman who had just gone into the kitchen to bring something to eat for him.
In her absence, this red-haired barbarian had seized him by the collar, lifting him up and punching him twice.
He looked back at her face, glaring at her crimson eyes and noticing the blood mixed with mucus on her knuckles from where she had landed her punches—and was preparing to give another, given the tension on her wrist.
"Don't be a coward, Sam! If you are a man, then talk to me like a man!" Astara said, her voice sharp yet calm, though her anger was clearly evident on her face.
Her commoner dress was worn carelessly, with her skirt bunched slightly due to one leg stretched out on the table, the other foot firmly on the ground as she lifted the young man slightly onto his toes, using the force of her delicate yet thin body.
Her frustration boiled even more when she heard him complaining to her mother rather than facing her directly.
She saw him trying to hide behind her mother, which only made her more furious. She hadn't given him enough time to get his face massaged for grinning at her like a pervert for quite a while now.
If it weren't for her mother being here, she would have already started peeling the potato, but she only got a few rounds to hit as her mother came out of the kitchen too soon.
"Stop now! Astara, you reckless child!" The middle-aged woman arrived and grabbed her daughter's hand in an attempt to pull it away, but she met with a resistance strong enough to make her tremble as she tried to pull Astara's arm, inadvertently dragging Sam's already unbalanced body along with her.
"Uwaa, Aunt, my neck! You both will kill me!" Sam groaned as he felt the tight shirt he wore, which belonged to his dad, not fitting his own neck.
His egg-like face turned red from the pull, and he realized that he shouldn't have called for help to begin with—he was dying at the hands of these two women, and the one he called for help was making things worse.
Bam!
"Kurghh—!" His face recoiled back.
Yes, his face recoiled back when yet again he received a punch straight to his nose.
Blood and mucus flowed, and as he held a string of dirty snot, the punch lingered on his face slowly retreating.
"You are dead, Sam." Astara frowned, her chin jutting out, her eyes widened with clear anger.
If someone were to see, they would notice fog coming out of her nostrils, as her hair, resembling the snakes of Medusa, hovered around, clearly ready to beat the daylights out of this man who dared to insult her in such a dirty way through those disgusting expressions he gave earlier.
So technically, he asked for the size of her undergarments in the most disgusting way.
RIP SAM, AMEN
He was dead... sure dead as hell.
"Aaah...someone...god please..." Sam seemed to regret even mentioning what he had done a moment ago.
But he just wanted to know her body size to buy a wedding dress.
Of course, his way of asking was flirtatious, given that he thought it might impress her if he gave a grin at her chest and guessed her measurements while winking and reading her expressions to find out her exact size.
But no, he messed up.
Forget her being embarrassing like a shy, modest gentlewoman and saying, 'Oh my, husband, you are too macho...'
She hit him... twice already... with a force equal to a horse kick he received when he was 10 years old, but not on the butt like that time; directly on the face.
He shouldn't have thought it would work.
"S-sister...."
A voice of a young boy cut through the tension, acting as a relief within the hall room. Everyone fell silent. The air within seemed to halt for a moment, allowing Astara, her mother, and Sam to look in the direction of the boy.
He stood there holding a bag filled with herbs and a pouch on his wrist containing money earned from selling them, clearly surprised to see his sister in a fight, this time not with some road thug, but with Sam.
Sam was a mid-level merchant living at the end of this alley, who clearly showed interest in marrying Astara. Their mother had agreed, given that he was well-settled enough to provide a better life for Astara.
"Lil bro..." Astara's hand slightly loosened on Sam's collar as she saw her little brother arrive, looking at her with clear disappointment, which made her hesitate to punch Sam again.
Her determination, which hadn't wavered when her mother came, seemed to flinch at the sight of her little brother shaking his head as he approached her.
She thought Sam was going to escape this time... especially when she wanted to imprint her knuckles on his face to declare him as perverted merchant.
"Oh, you're just in time, son, stop Astara now." Astara's mother trembled as she looked at her son, feeling a hint of relief and clear sadness at seeing Astara trying to fight with men again.
In truth, she could sense that something deeper was provoking Astara's fury; it must relate to her dignity.
Yet, she hoped her daughter might find a good life, unlike the one she had.
Unlike a mother who wasn't capable of providing a good life to her children after the death of her husband, she hoped Astara would at least find someone kind and in a safe job—not in the knighthood that had cost Astara's father his life.
Yes, even though it was subtle and hidden, she noticed how Astara occasionally cleaned her father's armor and sword, even swinging that sword at midnight when everyone was asleep.
This made her realize that her daughter was definitely interested in such a deadly thing.
Something no mother can ever afford to see her child do... especially after knowing how that same sword had become the death of the man she married.
"Stop, sister...." The young boy looked into her eyes and softly urged her, causing her to flinch as she slowly released Sam's collar, who naturally fell back on his feet, having been lifted onto his toes.
She also brought her foot down from the table and placed it on the floor, glaring at Sam, who seemed to be bringing a bucket of water and mixing some herbs within it.
"Haah... Haaah.... You savage woman, no man will marry you if you don't stop hitting men...." Sam gasped, trying to remind Astara to stop acting this way, especially given how everyone in town knew about her frequent fights with thugs whenever there was an issue regarding her younger brother.
He just wanted her to live a peaceful life with him, away from the hassle and mess she was in.
He had even purchased land on the outskirts surrounded by crop fields to spend his life peacefully after marriage, and he had already planned to have 7-8 children too.
"So you want me to marry a potato bag instead? Huh, punk." Astara shot him a glare, her voice low enough for only him to hear, clenching her jaw to the point that it made Sam flinch.
'!'
"A-aunt." He quickly moved behind Astara's mother, heart racing at the thought of getting punched again, while he took out his handkerchief to wipe his bleeding nose and snot.
"Sister, here, clean away the dirty snot in this bucket of water..." Cruxy—Astara's brother—handed her the bucket, placing it on the table. He helped his sister's hand sink into the water, using his hand to wash it before lifting his own gaze.
Giving another glance at Sam hiding behind their mother, a devilish grin formed on his face as he said, "... Now beat him; you won't get sick this way."
'!?!'