Chương 1665: Interlude: Trouble Brewing III

Chosen donned his shield, then drew his blade, which gleamed under the noonval sun, which had surpassed the zenith a while ago, but remained ever present, like an Iyrman upon a battlefield. Roaming Steel Sword inhaled sharply, and drew his blade, beautiful it was, and as the pair gathered themselves, Azim motioned for them to begin. It appeared to be the case Chosen had come to slay Roaming Steel Sword.

The clash of steel was not loud, it was thundering, and almost immediately, Roaming Steel Sword leapt backwards away from the beast before him, only to find the tip of the sword in front of his visor, threatening to slip between.

"The music will end too swiftly," Tanagek said, letting out an annoyed sigh, though it was obvious he was feigning the annoyance, for his eyes were full of a wicked gleam.

"Where is it?" Chosen snarled, his white eyes, blinded by rage, widened like that of a snake spotting a rabbit.

"Where is it? That courage of yours?" Roaming Steel Sword had come across a great many warriors, but how many of them had struck him as though he had slept with their wives? A few. However, this Iyrman's savagery was too much, wasn't it? Thus, Roaming Steel Sword decided, he would need to teach this young man that this world was not as small as the Iyr.

The blade struck upon Chosen's shoulder, digging in an inch against his thick muscle, blood spilling lightly, but even as his blade remained stuck within the Iyrman's shoulder, Roaming Steel Sword understood. He was the prey.

'Whoa!' the twins thought, upon seeing the swordplay of the Sen family, though it was not the typical swordplay, but that which had been blessed by fury. Chosen's blade, cleaved through the iron scales upon Roaming Steel Sword's front, the bits of scale flying through the air, scattering against the stone floor, as simply as one might cut through a piece of paper.

As Roaming Steel Sword fell to his knees, and Chosen's blade fell through the air, completely ignoring the Master known as Roaming Steel Sword, for he was but a warm up, as he pointed his blade towards the old woman, who had dared to draw her blade in front of him, and yet had not aimed it towards him, but his cousin. How dare she. To think she would pick Tanagek above him?

"Chosen," Tanagek warned, for any longer, and Chosen would become drunk on his fury.

"I can do it," Chosen replied in their tongue, his voice full of that kind of desperation, his voice trembling as he thought of the five looking up towards him. His eyes narrowed, suddenly full of a greater fury, still blank white, glaring towards Steel Storm Staff, who remained unphased by his look.

"It is enough," Tanagek assured. Chosen grit his teeth, but his body flashed from white to tan, and he rested his blade over his shoulder, staining it red with blood. His eyes then trailed from the woman to the other warrior, who shuddered under such a terrible gaze.

"I should at least beat Wild Cobra Sword, for the sake-,""Chosen," Tanagek warned once more. Chosen's entire body tensed, his grip tightening on his blade, but if Tanagek was going to go that far, the young Iyrman exhaled, and eased his heart. Abdul remained silent. How? Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. What? Why?

"Ohohoho," Azim called, slapping his hand against the side of his fist, for he hadn't finished his almonds, but then again, could anyone blame him, he had only watched the fight for less than half a minute, so there was such little time to finish them, but he still offered the young Iyrman a curt applause.

"Oh my, oh my, what a fine guest we have received, the one known as Chosen, son of Mosen, grandnephew of Shasen."

'You at least researched minimally,' Chosen thought, letting out a huff, cracking his neck, then, pinched his cut neck together, though it would need to be stitched.

"Shall I listen to your tale over some tea, and I will call for one to play some music, and Wild Cobra Sword, go bring the healers to tend to Roaming Steel Sword and our fine guest," Azim said, beaming brightly towards them all, leaving himself, his son, and his grandson, under the protection of only Storm Steel Staff, and the mercy of these Iyrmen, one of whom seemed eager to kill, and the other to, perhaps, stop him.

The pair would not dare to kill, not because they were the Setting Sun Merchants, but because Azim wished to hear their tales. It was upon hearing the tale, starting from the beginning, from Tanagek and Chosen stepping out, to their return, and then speaking of what happened for them to step forward onto the world stage in such a manner, Azim began to calculate.

He had grown up a merchant, the old man eating his almonds, and so he had to consider the words of the pair before him as a merchant would, rumours and truths both. To hear the tale of how Adam had come to meet his grandson, who harassed a young Aswadian woman, not just any woman, however, but one of the guard's own.

He listened intently to the words of the Iyrmen, recalling why the Iyr had stepped out at this time, about the rumours of the last two years, forced away due to the arrival of the Reavers, but still bubbling beneath the surface.

'To think, all this was because of a pair of bavwa…' It was upon the end of the tale the old man smiled, for though he had originally thought they were bavwa, it was his merchant sensibilities which came to the conclusion they were Iyrmen, for a merchant was sensitive to the colour of copper, silver, gold, but most importantly, sanguine.

"It is always a pleasure to meet with the young heroes of the Iyr, especially those who are already so powerful, whose fathers, whose granduncles, are each so powerful!" Azim, being the merchant that he was, beamed brightly towards the pair, one of their necks finally sewed together. Since he had come to meet such fine heroes, he made sure to gift them a fair number of gifts, beyond moderation, though, he assumed, not too excessive.

He gifted a pair of elixirs, each worth hundreds of gold, and a pair of blades, each formed of the rubysteel known as rubicule, and beyond that, and piles of fine cloth.

'If it's this much, they will not-,'"Your son and I made a deal," Tanagek said, not showing even tiny breath of mercy. He held the man's gaze, he who was the man known as the Family Head of the Setting Sun Merchants. However, what was an upstart like the Setting Sun Merchants compared to the Gek family? A man whose wealth reached the top of this hill, but would not reach one of the peaks of the Iyr's mountains? A man who was familiar with the touch of silver and gold, but not blood and steel? No, Tanagek thought.

He could not allow them to think in such a manner.

'Do you think I, Tanagek, would fear you? Do you think I, Tanagek, would allow you to stare into my eyes with such courage? Do you think I, Tanagek, would allow you to trouble my cousin so easily?'

'Did I underestimate the misfortune between us?' Azim thought, only to immediately realise. How long had it been when the half elf had stepped into Aswadasad, to deal with matters, after the deaths of his children? Didn't Tanagek mention that they arrived in Arisa first during their journey? If they were cousins, surely he would oppress the merchant this much.

"I know the outcome of such a bout, but if you wish to spar, you may, but I shall call for the contracts," Azim called, flashing a bright smile, the smile only disappearing when the old man sipped his third cup of tea. The old man stared at the backs of the four. They were not a simple four, for each of them were trained by monsters who the old man could barely afford. The sky was soon to turn to purple.

"Have I displeased the Lord of Light?" Azim began, staring up towards the sky. It had been quite the long day, and though they had only spoken for an hour or so, it had felt an eternity.

"To think my own blood would try to shroud me in darkness."

"..."

"This half elf…" Azim mused, taking the young man into his considerations. Tanagek and Chosen would no doubt speak of this to him.

"I do not care if you offend this half elf, for he is a small matter. Regardless of how powerful he is, one can send Storm Steel Staff, Roaming Steel Sword, and Wild Cobra Sword, and like that, he is a small matter…" Abdul was certain that many could deal with the half elf, but in his heart, he suddenly grew uncertain.

"To displease the Iyr… you should know better."

"..."

"Bastara!" the old man finally snapped, grabbing his grandson by his hair, though mostly to ruffle it aggressively.

"You! You! Is it because I spoiled you too much? This half elf may live for a century longer, but the Iyr is eternal!"

"Grandfather…"

"What am I to do with you, betta?"

"It is his fault!"

"You! You will not learn, will you?"

'That damn treehead!' Akbar thought, fixing his hair.