Alexander Parker couldn't stand hearing the words "my woman." Isabella Weaver was clearly his; who did this man think he was?
He bent down to pick up a brick, tossed it in his hand, and in the next second, hurled it fiercely at Harry Hunter's head.
Harry's expression was icy, and he caught the brick with lightning speed before throwing it back. Simultaneously, his foot swept across the ground, sending up a splash of rainwater.
Through the misty rain, Harry's punches flashed like shadows, pounding onto Alexander Parker's body.
A dagger suddenly thrust in from the side, but Harry grabbed it with a reverse grip. With a forceful grip, Alexander Parker let out a muffled grunt, and the dagger fell into the muddy rainwater.
The drizzling rain had stopped sometime without notice; the gloom had dispersed, and the evening sun on the horizon was dazzlingly bright, casting a gentle light through the clouds.
