Chapter 203 They looked down on her
_Rowena’s POV_
The loud slap echoed through the market street, cutting through the noisy chatter of the other vendors who hadn’t realized what was happening.
The big man stumbled back a step, his cheek flushing bright red, but he quickly recovered and glared down at me with pure fury, his hand still trapped in my tight grasp.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he barked, his voice rough and mean. "What do you want, lady?"
He tried to yank his arm back, acting like my grip didn’t bother him, but I didn’t let go. Instead, I tightened my fingers around his thick wrist and pressed down hard on the sensitive pressure point.
Another harsh loud cracking sound rang out from his bone again, Incase the first one wasn’t enough, and the others didn’t hear it properly.
The man’s tough act vanished in an instant. He let out a blood curdling scream, dropping to his knees on the dusty ground as tears sprang into his eyes from the intense pain.
"Let go of me! You’re breaking my arm!" he shrieked,writhing on the dirty ground.
The other two men standing beside him looked completely shocked. The big man on the floor looked up at his friends, his face twisted in rage as he cradled his injured hand.
"Don’t just stand there, you idiots!" he yelled at them. "Beat her up! Break her legs! Infact, kill her!” He barked in anger and pain.
The two men took a step toward me, raising their fists. But I didn’t back down, I stood my ground, pulled myself up to my full height, and locked my eyes onto them. My gaze was ice cold, and I made sure my voice was a steady dangerous tone that worked at stopping them dead in their tracks.
"If any of you takes one more step toward me," I said, every word clear and firm, "I will make sure you are punished so severely that you will regret ever coming to this market today."
A sudden flash of genuine fear passed through their eyes. They froze in place, looking at my calm expression and my fearless stance. They could tell I wasn’t just making empty threats, and for a second, nobody moved.
I looked down at the crumpled sheet of paper lying near the knocked over vegetable crates. It was the document they had used to intimidate the poor girl, claiming Alaric had signed a new tax law for the market.
"Hand that paper over to me," I commanded, pointing at the document.
The leader of the group scrambled back up to his feet, panting heavily as he cradled his damaged wrist. His pride was deeply wounded in front of the whole crowd, and he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
Instead of handing over the paper, he reached into his jacket with his good hand and pulled out a sharp dirty pocket knife.
"You think you can come here and play the hero?" he sneered, lunging forward without warning.
Before I could completely dodge his sudden attack, the sharp blade cut straight through my jacket sleeve, leaving a shallow slash across my forearm. A thin line of blood quickly soaked through my cloth.
The man smirked, clearly expecting me to scream in pain, burst into tears, and back off like the helpless girl he had been bullying or like him when I broke his wrist.
Too bad he was dead wrong.
Pain was nothing new to me, and a tiny cut on my arm wasn’t going to stop me. I didn’t even flinch. Instead, I shifted my weight to my right leg so I could stand properly. I raised my shopping bag containing the two massive jars of thick graphite oil, and swung it with all the force in my body.
The heavy bag struck the side of his head with a brutal sound. The impact was so strong that his eyes rolled back into his head instantly, he dropped his knife and collapsed onto the dirty floor like a sack of stones, going completely unconscious immediately.
A collective gasp rippled through the gathering crowd of shopkeepers and shoppers. Nobody had expected someone as small as me to knock out a full grown man in a single swing.
But that was their mistake, taking me for granted because of my size.
I turned my cold gaze toward the remaining two men, holding the bag at my side.
"I said, give me the paper," I repeated, my voice completely steady.
One of the men trembled, quickly bending down to collect the crumpled document from the floor. He hurriedly handed it over to me, his hands shaking so much he nearly dropped it again.
I unfolded the paper and scanned the text carefully.
The stamp at the top was a cheap fake, but as my eyes moved down to the bottom, I paused. The signature written in dark ink actually looked somewhat similar to Alaric’s official signature.
It was a clever forgery, designed to trick everyday people who didn’t know any better.
I raised my head and looked around at the large crowd of market people who had gathered to watch the fight.
"This signature is completely fake," I told them loudly so everyone could hear me clearly. "This paper is a lie. King Alaric would never sign a document that forces poor hardworking people to pay outrageous taxes. He does not treat his pack this way."
A middle aged vendor standing near the front looked at me with doubt in his eyes. "How do you know that for sure, lady? That signature looks pretty real to us.”
I let out a soft sigh, I knew the only way to settle this once and for all and clear Alaric’s name was to get the answer straight from the source. I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket and tapped on Alaric’s contact number.
"I am going to call him right now and confirm it," I said calmly.
The second man, who was standing beside his passed out boss, suddenly burst out into loud, obnoxious laughter. He pointed at me, looking around at the crowd as if I had just said the funniest joke in the world.
"Are you serious right now?” the man laughed hysterically. "Listen to this crazy woman, everyone. She’s pretending she can just dial up the Alpha King on her phone! Who do you think you are, his queen?!"