Chương 1447: [1356] - Y06.256 - The Peak VI

Adam picked up the chonky blue skinned girl, rubbing his cheek against hers, nuzzling her nose gently. The girl squirmed against the half elf, though he was strong enough to contain the mass that was known as Amal.

"Are you tired?"

"Ooo…"

"Alright, I'll take you to nap then," the half elf said, lifting her up with a loud grunt, wrapping an arm around her, the girl resting her head against his shoulder.

"I'll also use this as an excuse to see little Barak. Hopefully he doesn't annoy Lady Jamila, eh?" Anka shook her head, though a smile twitched across her lips, leading the half elf away, who carried the little girl. As the pair made their way to a building, Uli thought to follow, but it remained a thought, since he could not act too brazenly within the Order.

Jonn leaned back within his chair, closing his eyes as he felt the oppression within the air, the great presence it held not just upon his skin, but his heart. This place was so familiar, yet so unfamiliar. Lady Arya, too, was one of the Major Divine he would pray to, not just Lord Gale, though he was closer to their patron Divine. He glanced around towards the various figures, each enjoying their day here along with all their guests.

He closed his eyes, recalling when he, too, had done so as a youth within the Thousand Hunts. Aneesa stood, reaching for her blade, the woman's eyes falling down upon the young man who seemed to be glaring at her.

"Young man, do you wish to dance the dance of steel?" Tanagek smiled, standing, bowing his head respectfully.

"It would be my honour."

"I did not expect you to be so shy, my dear, for you are Tanagek, descended from that man," the woman said, for a moment, her eyes flashed back towards the past, when she had seen the man for a moment as a child. On this day would she be able to see it again? Tanagek drew his sword, deciding against wielding his shield, since the woman had not worn her own. The pair clasped their blades with both hands, allowing a long moment to pass, as the group around them turned their attention to the pair.

They remained standing opposite one another, still as statues, until the woman finally bowed her head. Tanagek charged forward, his blade explosive as the pair clashed, steel ringing against steel. If their blades had not been magical, their edges would have chipped from the force of their clash, perhaps a blade would have broken. Tanagek's blade moved with Iyrmanly efficiency, but with a heaviness.

'The Gek family's sword is unlike the sword of the Gak family you are familiar with,' Maygek said, his father's cousin, who was considered alongside Tonagek as his equal, though she had given herself to the Iyr like Dogek had. At that time she had taken to teaching the Gek youth, but had taken the likes of Tanagek to the side, since his eyes were focused upon becoming a great warrior.

'The Gak family sword is efficient and deadly, but it prizes efficiency against all else. Their way is the way to survive, but the Gek family's sword is not a sword that survives, it is a sword that thrives.'

'Heavy,' Aneesa thought, the same as a young Tanagek. Yes, that sword was heavy too, wasn't it?

'What a terrifying sword!' Chosen watched, slightly annoyed by the fact that his companion had managed to claim a Sheath for himself, but at least the ringing of steel was beautiful. Yes, the ringing of steel that came from the Gek family sword, didn't it sound so lovely?

"What a vicious young man," Aneesa joked, stepping back. She had fought him as best as she could, but he held the upper hand. She assumed with her magic she'd be able to close the gap, but how could she do such a thing, especially since Tanagek, too, had held back. She gathered she held quite the advantage over him, like a Master over an Expert, but his abilities, or perhaps his blade, were greater than she expected.

"It was an honour to face you, Ka Aneesa," Tanagek stated, sheathing his sword and bowing his head once more. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. John stared at Tanagek, who was only twenty four or so, just like his Executive, and though Adam was truly powerful, in a world without Adam, Tanagek would have been considered a monster for his age. Well, there was also Jurot, too… Shakarath could feel the burning gaze of a particular Iyrman.

Once he finished his tea, he stood, drawing his own blade, readying himself against the man with the red sword. The sword was red, forged well, but it was the magic which it held, the same enchantments which two of his companions held.

'Vicious!' Shakarath thought as the young man's entire body flashed red, and the blade fell down upon him. It was a longsword, that much was for certain, but it struck harsher, like that of a greatsword.

'Listen to me, you damn brat!' Mosen had almost shouted at his son, who yawned. The boy peeked out towards him, eyeing up his father.

'Since you're going to hold the same curse as me, to be struck first in a battle, you need to learn the way to kill before you are killed!'

'You are hit first because you are too weak,' Chosen had replied, even as a six year old, his tongue had been so vicious for his father. He was fairly certain his father was thinking about throwing him off the cliff to survive in the forest alone, but he couldn't do that until Chosen was fifteen. Mosen glared down at his son, before he yawned.

'Fine. You can learn from someone else. Just do not come crying to me when Tanagek beats you.'

'…' Chosen's blade struck violently against Shakarath's blade, threatening to break the magical blade in half. The wild grin on his face revealed the Iyrmanly glee, for there were two kinds of Iyrmen, the kind that remained stoic, and the kind which embraced the savagery.

"I see why the Iyr is so confident," Shakarath admitted, losing his balance for a moment, but as Chosen stepped forward to try and take advantage, the shadow of a sword blurred. The Iyrman barely managed to deflect the blade, though the blade flashed white hot, forcing him back. Chosen was fairly certain, however, the Sheath had held back.

"I can see why my cousin wishes to covet your warriors," Chosen joked, stepping forward once more, eagerly engaging the Sheath.

"It is a shame he will be unable to claim our warriors to easily," Shakarath said, forcing Chosen back once more, his blade flashing white hot with holy magic, though he only used his First Gate Divine Smite, deciding against bullying his junior too much.

'Striking so recklessly only gives him a greater advantage,' Tanagek thought, for though Chosen could easily overpower those who were weaker than himself with such an ability, when it came to someone like the Sheath he was facing, Chosen was only disadvantaging himself.

"You should not underestimate our cousin," Chosen said, his blade ringing in the air, his muscles screaming at him from facing such a great opponent.

"Even if two Sheaths were to face him at once, he would not lose!" Bael's ears twitched, the half dragon's throat growling lightly, causing a few to look his way.

'I should have thrown out my lightning…' Chosen panted, but as he stood opposite Shakarath, he could see that the old man was also beginning to feel it. The young Iyrman smiled, his skin turning from red to white, and he held out a hand.

"Thank you, Mo Shakarath!"

"It was a pleasure, young Chosen," Shakarath said, clasping the young man's forearm. It was then he understood why Brandon had carved their first rule into the wall, for truly, as much as Shakarath had fought against and alongside Iyrmen, it was the likes of these particular youth, who were so close to reaching Master in their mid twenties, which terrified him so. Maharan eyed up Tanagek and Chosen, each of whom had fought so brilliantly.

He had seen a great many fights, even those between the likes of Paragons, and though he could see that Paragons were monsters in their own rights, he had no idea that even the young Iyrmen like Tanagek and Chosen could fight so well.

'Is everything they say about the Iyr… true?'

"Should I fight too?" said a voice, full of audacity, and if Adam hadn't left, one might have thought it was him. Naqokan's eyes darted to the side, and the grey skinned Iyrman blinked, noting the eyes falling upon her.

"Young lady, what did you say your name was?" Taher asked, the man having paid too much attention to Adam.

"Uwajin."

"Uwa. Jin." Taher paused for a long moment.

"Who is the Bearded Dragon to you?" Aneesa asked.

"He is my grandfather."

'Of course he is,' Aneesa thought, noting the way Shakarath was looking at her.

'Yes. That Bearded Dragon.' Taher glanced aside, meeting their gazes, before his eyes fell away towards where the half elf had walked, sipping the last of his pink tea.

'If all of these youngsters are…'

"Almost all within the Iyr are related to great warriors," Dunes said, breaking their thoughts.

"Even the Gak family, which is considered to be among the least powerful within the Iyr, shine brightly with Flame Brand."

'Oh, right.'

"Though, Bavin here is the previous Elder Wrath's grandson," Dunes said, causing Taher to almost choke upon his tea.