Chương 1095: [1030] - Y05.030 - Newcomers V

"If you could give my regards to Larot," Crowseer said, tipping his hat, bowing his head lightly, Maurice once more pulling her head back.

"I will," Adam replied.

'I can do at least that much, since you did me a solid.'

"Ah, and for little Jarot," Crowseer said, holding out a small smooth stone, almost like a marble.

"I picked up this stone during my journey and I thought he would enjoy it."

"What about for Jirot?" Adam asked, accepting the stone, noting how dense it felt, not too heavy, but noticeably heavier than it appeared. It was also as smooth as silk, the half elf rubbing it between his fingers.

"I will do my best to find something for her during my travels," Crowseer promised, tipping his hat.

"You make it sound like we'll cross paths again…" Crowseer smiled from behind his veil, and Adam let out a defeated sigh, watching the back of the Idol as he left. An Idol, like Shama, and Starsword, even though he was considered far weaker. He was considered stronger than Marmak and Shaool, never mind the Mad Dog. The Idol stopped.

"You should be careful, Adam." Crowseer glanced back over his shoulder, holding the brim of his hat once more.

"If it was his sister, I wouldn't have been able to save you."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks." Adam watched as the Idol walked off to the horizon, already feeling the chill seeping into him once more.

"You wanted to retire here," Tork said, raising his brows at his brother, sipping the water.

"I should have prayed before I made the decision." Mork threw looks towards the rest of the figures around. He could feel the tension in the air, the awkwardness of the villagers that stared at the group suspiciously. He could see how they kept at a distance from him and his brother, as well as the others of the United Kindom, but especially Adam. Jane smiled slightly, understanding how she had been when she had first met Adam only a few months ago.

'Don't worry, you'll get used to it.' She continued to lie to herself, half pretending what she had seen had been all a dream.

'Marshal, I wish you were here.'

"Executive," Mork eventually called.

"I need to complete my prayers in nature, would you accompany me?"

"Sure, Jurot and I will escort you." Mork bowed his head, since Jurot's presence didn't ruin his plan. Once the group had slipped away, a few minute walk away into the forest, Mork stopped.

"The air around the villagers is awkward."

"Yeah?" Adam replied, having not understood that Mork wanted to speak with, but Jurot nodded.

"You need to be careful."

"Yeah?"

"They definitely blame you, so you should be careful." Adam narrowed his eyes, throwing a look to Jurot, who nodded, before the half elf smiled, though it was an empty smile.

"Thank you, Mork. I'll be sure to stick with Jurot at all times." Mork nodded, before dropping down to a knee, holding his amulet as he muttered a quick prayer, before standing up.

"Thank you for escorting me, Executives."

"Any time."

'What a guy. I should keep him in mind for a magical weapon sooner or later.' Jurot had also noted all the looks of the villager, sticking to Adam like lacquer on wood. As long as Jurot was nearby, the villagers wouldn't dare to take a step forward. As they returned, he noted the look his grandfather gave him, the old man gesturing, Jurot returning back a gesture, only to realise he had informed his grandfather, the Mad Dog.

"Adam," Jurot called, before leading the half elf to speak with Gangak, gesturing towards her.

"Okay," Gangak replied, simply.

"We were discussing the matter. It would be best for you to return back to the business on the first."

"Alright," Adam replied, before the woman ruffled his hair to distract him from his thoughts.

"To survive against one of the Thirteen Stars, it is a good story," Gangak said, beaming with pride down towards the young half elf.

"Your children will understand its glory." Adam was glad that his relatives were around. The heaviness in his body and mind soothed slightly with their words. In the evening, Jarot accosted the half elf, dragging him away to eat and drink, showing him off to the villagers. They had partly heard the stories, though hadn't heard the full story of Adam's antics from the Iyrmen, who had seemingly downplayed not only their own stories, but also the stories of the half elf.

Perhaps, instead, it was Jarot who was overplaying the stories, but it was Jarot, who was almost a Demon Lord to many of the travellers who passed through.

"What should I do?" Jarot asked, opening his jaw wide as he swallowed down the wine, before wiping the little splashed across his lips.

"My grandsons are beginning to outshine me. Should I kill another dragon or two?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"You do not have enough limbs to sacrifice for glory," Gangak said, reaching out for the wineskin, only for Jarot to pull it away.

"You should remain and spoil your greatchildren, who miss you." Jarot grumbled quietly, surrendering the wineskin to the woman. He glanced towards the villagers, who had listened to his tale, partly out of awe, partly out of fear.

"We will see how many fools will try to claim the lives of my grandsons!" As though he were a prophet, the old man stood at the gates, eyeing up the singular figure in the distance, approaching the village from the east. Very few figures could walk around alone through the forest, even Grandmasters would be wary doing so.

'You damn old geezer! How could you tempt Fate like this?' Adam reached up to his pounding forehead. The figure was a drakken, that was to say, he looked human, save for his horns, which were like two scimitars of bone, and his blue scales. He had greyish blue eyes, and dark hair, almost black, but with a tinge of blue. He was built with almost like the embodiment of Iyrman efficiency, muscular but lean, no muscle too big, nor too small, his muscles just right.

He wore fairly simple clothing, slightly worn from travel, with a long cloak that covered most of his body, but carried no weapons outwardly.

'Of course it's a handsome guy,' Adam dared to joke within his heart. The figure was handsome, like his face had been sculpted out of clay. Jurot narrowed his eyes, recognising the fellow, though he couldn't place how. Meanwhile, the older Iyrmen exchanged glances, but said nothing. The figure glanced between the group, noting the Iyrmen, then the demons, then the figure in puthral, and the other Aldishmen about.

"Hello."

"What brings you to this village, stranger?" Chief Terry asked, feeling a bead of sweat drop down the side of his face.

"The Iyr."

"You're heading to the Iyr?" Chief Terry asked, tensing up as the figure reached into his cloak, rummaging for a moment, before he flicked over a gold coin.

"Is that enough for the gate fee for a village?"

"It is."

"I spent most of my time in Aswadasad, so I wasn't sure," he said, flashing a wild grin.

"How much is it for some shelter and food, and if you have any, good drinks, and if you don't, bad drinks?"

"A gold for a night's stay with dinner, and for drinks, a gold for a whole bottle." The figure reached into his cloak once more, before pulling out a small gem.

"Can you confirm whether a gem is real or not?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I prefer to pay in gems for drinks, so bring fifty to me." The figure's eyes fell to the Iyrmen once more, but then the youngsters. His eyes took in the sight of Lucy.

"Nice axe."

"Thanks."

"Where did you get it."

"It was a gift."

"You received such a fine weapon as a gift?"

"Yes."

"How did that come to pass?"

"You need to be friends with an idiot." The drakken grinned wider, before his eyes darted to Adam, who squirmed slightly at the words.

"So, you're the idiot?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it like that." The figure stepped forward, noting the way the others tensed, but he still stood face to face with the half elf, revealing he was slightly taller than Adam, but about the width of a finger.

"Your axe is pretty fine too."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to bet it?"

"Well…" Adam glared back into the figure's eyes, which were so wild, brimming with delight.

"Depends on the bet."

"I win, I get that axe. I lose, I'll work for you until the next noonval."

"Why would I want a loser?"

"I'm… pretty strong, though?" He grinned wider, tilting his head slightly, in that handsome way that annoyed decent folk.

"How strong?" The figure paused, as though he hadn't expected the question.

"I didn't get into trouble from Aswadasad to the Iyr."

"What's your business with the Iyr, anyway?"

"I'm looking for… a friend."

"A friend? Who?"

"I'll tell you once I have that axe, or once I work for you."

'Who the hell is this guy?'

"What's your name?"

"I'm Bael."

"Bael?" Adam replied.

"That's a cool name."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Adam."

"Adam?" Bael tilted his head slightly, closing his eyes as he tilted his head.

"Adam Fate."

"Huh? Then, do you know of a Jurot."

"I am Jurot," Jurot said, narrowing his eyes once more.

"So you're Jurot, and you're Adam," Bael said, smiling wider.

"You sound like you know me, and that I should know you?"

"Let's fight!" Bael stated, suddenly brimming with battle lust.

"If you want to keep talking, then give me a good fight, otherwise I'll be disappointed that I've come all this way for nothing."

'What? Did he come for me?' Adam could see the playful grin on his face, filled with excitement.

"Alright, but instead of this axe, I'll let you order a Greater Enhanced axe from the Enchanter. Also, no killing."

"I don't need to kill you, I'm just here to fight," Bael said, pulling back, before stretching out his neck from side to side.

'He's just a kid, so I'll hold back.' Adam furrowed his brows.

'So he just wanted to fight me? Who the hell is this friend of his?' Bael waited for Adam to prepare himself, the half elf swinging the axe around. The axe was dark, and held a powerful enchantment, that much was for certain.

'Greater Enhanced? That's acceptable.' Bael also noted the crimson shield was magical too, holding a Greater enchantment upon it.

'Do all kids of the Iyr own so many magical weapons? Ah, no, they're too big to be kids, so they're adults, aren't they? So they're… twenty to fifty years old? No, they get wrinkles at forty or fifty, right?' While Bael tried to understand the situation he was in, Adam tried to understand the situation he was in. It was after a single thought he realised it was futile, and all he needed to do was swing his axe.

"Hey, Bael, you ready?"

"Ah." Bael held up his hand, before beckoning Adam towards him.

"Go ahead."

"Okay." Unfortunately for Bael, Adam had held the axe which once belonged to Jarot. It was not just any axe, but an axe he got to use once last year. Battle Order D20 + 1 = 16 (15) Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2 Attack: Phantom (Advantage) D20 + 10 = 11 (1) D20 + 10 = 25 (15) Hit! Phantom: 3 -> 2 Mana: 25 -> 24 Ability: Divine Smite 2D6 + 3D6 + 2D6 + 9 = 35 (3)(16)(7) 35 damage! Attack: Phantom (Advantage) D20 + 10 = 15 (5) D20 + 10 = 25 (15) Hit!

Phantom: 2 -> 1 Mana: 24 -> 23 Ability: Divine Smite 2D6 + 3D6 + 2D6 + 9 = 29 (6)(10)(4) 29 damage! Adam concentrated as he stepped forward, and allowed his body to move as it pleased. The pair clashed, with Bael defending himself using his body, managing to stop the heavy blows with his forearms, but the divine magic flashed through him, and the magic assaulted his mind. Adam had dealt enough damage to knock out a typical Expert. but as a trickle of blood fell out of Bael's nose, the drakken grinned wider.

"Oh," Bael said, feeling the warmth flowing down from his nostrils, his eyes wide almost as wide as his smile, full of sheer delight.

"I didn't realise you were so strong!"

'Eh?' Adam thought as Bael wound up his clenched fist, stepping forward to lay a beat down on the half elf with the largest grin on his face.