Chương 1696: [1593] – Y07.093 – A Man III

"Do you not covet them?" Gangak teased, pouring the Iyrman a cup of wine.

"How can I dare to covet them?" Malfev replied, sipping away at the alcohol, reaching out his hand, and immediately vapour hissed into the air. The old man smiled innocently. What need was there of he to covet them, for their greatmother was once known as Mulfev, and thus they would naturally learn their way, and it was he who trained them, much to the Mad Dog's chagrin. His eyes then slowly floated over towards Rajin.

The Bearded Dragon sat to one side, his granddaughter snoozing beside him, for the girl was so naturally powerful, she required so much more slumber, or so it was joked. Yet, his eyes remained on the children, each of whom had declared how they wished to fight, though it may have been childish fancy. Yet, there was one, the one who glanced over his way, the girl, with the scar across her cheek, who smiled towards him, her tail swaying excitedly behind her.

'Should I beat a Fariq?' Rajin thought. Uwajin sat upright, her hair standing on end lightly, but as the feeling faded from the air, she turned to face her grandfather. She blinked. The young woman returned back to her slumber, for whatever it was that made her grandfather give off such an aura, it meant the rest of the year would possess such great fun. That was, of course, unless a certain little girl bullied him for taking away the fun from her babo.

"Laygak," called a voice, who was not entirely unrelated to the young man, for he was the one known as the Black Storm, or in these lands, the Black Shark.

"Yes?"

"Yes? Do not forget, I am still-," Baztam began, only to see the look within Laygak's eyes, and right now, he realised he was still within the range of a particular set of children, and it was Laygak who held the advantage when it came to those children.

"Just come here, you brat!" Laygak approached, and as he did, Baztam unwrapped the sword he had kept within the scarf, and tossed it out to Laygak, who swiftly caught it, for he wouldn't dare to drop the sword.

"…"

"Until we return to the Iyr, I will entrust this sword to you," Baztam stated simply, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. Laygak blinked, about to open his mouth, but Baztam glared at him, and the Iyrman swiftly retreated away, and as he did so, he noted the looks from his companions, each of whom were staring at him with such awe.

Even Tana and Cho both stared with such a longing look within their eyes, for they had been entrusted with some fine blades, but their blades were fresh, new, and it was their responsibility to begin the tales, however, were their blades as fine as the blade known as the Thousand Celestial Storms? To inherit the blade, even for just a season, after the one known as Killer Star, to continue its tale…

'It seems the Gak family is on the rise,' Gangak thought, and though it held such a humorous tone within her mind, it was no longer quite so dark. It was a shame Laygak had decided to step back, however, thankfully, Taygak was being raised with the knowledge she may continue to ravage the land as she pleased.

'I hope my story has not imprinted upon her too deeply…'

"Oh!" Adam called as his children began to flee from his arms to spoil the elderly Iyrmen around.

"Mister Tamil invited us to watch a chess exhibition tomorrow." Jirot and Konarot formed tiny circles with their mouths, their amber and ruby eyes shimmering with delight towards their father.

"We will be leaving the day after, but tomorrow let's have a lot of fun!" Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Daddy, mummy is invited too?" Jirot asked.

"Even if she wasn't, who will refuse your mother!" Adam declared, holding up a fist.

"If they do not allow mummy to enter, I will deal with them!"

"Oh dear, oh dear, daddy, how you can say this?" Jirot asked, shambling up to her father, placing a hand upon his knee. She glanced aside to her mother who raised her brows, and the girl slowly turned her head away, staring particularly within her father's eyes.

"Daddy, you…"

"Yes…" Jirot pat his knee gently.

"What I can say, daddy? You do not listen to me."

"I do!"

"Daddy," the girl said, closing an eye, side eyeing her father.

"Daddy, you do not listen to me."

"Dear, I…"

"…"

"Ah. I see. You are right. I do not listen, so what can you do?"

"You do not listen, so what can I do?" Jirot replied, shrugging her shoulders, before sauntering off, her arms behind her back, making her way to her grandmother.

"What can I do, nana?"

"I see," Sonarot replied, for her granddaughter's jokes were the greatest of them all, lifting the girl up, planting a kiss on her cheek, causing the girl to flush. Little Jarot peeked up towards his grandmother, and swiftly he was blanketed in affection, the pair embracing tightly. As their grandmother claimed them, a certain chonky little girl waddled over to her eldest brother.

"Ada!" the girl called out.

"Yes, Amalrot?" The girl inhaled deeply, and thrust a finger, as though it were a blade.

"Papa."

"That's right," the half elf grunted, lifting the girl up with some effort, pulling her onto his chest. The girl gasped, grunting as she pushed off his chest, and glared deep into his eyes. Amalrot began to babble threateningly. The half elf listened intently.

"Oh, I see!"

"Yeh!" Amalrot stated.

"I suppose if I must, I must."

"Keh." Amalrot buried her head within his chest, sucking her thumb, trapping her brother under her great weight. The half elf's slipped to the side, noting the way his first sister was currently sitting with Pam, speaking about this and that, the kind of Iyrmanly talk the young woman still wasn't used to. As Lanarot glanced to her brother absentmindedly, the girl blinked, smiling towards him as their eyes met, and with a quick greeting, she slipped away from her elder sister and rushed to her brother.

"When we're in the capital, let's go on a brother sister date," the half elf whispered, planting a kiss on his sister's head.

"Yes!" the girl replied, eyes beaming brightly.

"We'll eat lots of bread and spend a bit of money."

"A bit of money?"

"Just a little bit, because your brother needs to deal with some magical weapons before he can spend more, but this brother of yours, he can at least feed you lots of bread!"

"Yes! Okay!" The girl cackled lightly, leaning her head against the half elf's bicep, wrapping an arm around an arm, meanwhile their sister turned to see the girl, the girls exchanging smiles, and as the elder sister, Lanarot pampered her younger sister with affection.

'I'm lucky the Iyr didn't corrupt her so deeply,' the half elf thought, and then he waited. A moment passed. Two moments. Three moments.

'I expected her to say something crazy.' The half elf waited a moment. Two. Three.

'Hmm.' As evening came and went, the half elf assisted his children to bed, with Jirot and Jarot crawling over his chest, though he wished to step out an exercise. Jirot clutched at his collar, and little Jarot nestled against his father's bicep, and thus the half elf was trapped. This time, Konarot, Kirot, and Karot each snuggled up beside their greatfather and greatmother, while Gangak watched over little Lanarot, who, for once, allowed her brother and sister mercy.

As the half elf surrendered to his children, a young Iyrman remained outside, under the coolness of Arisa, the slight scent of the sea scintillating in the air, and in his heart, he recalled how many generations ago he once would have called this home, if not for the Jarot of old. As he held the blade, slightly longer than he was used to, but thankfully, as he had almost reached the peak of his natural strength, he could certainly lift the steel, but could his heart lift the burden that was this sword?

Laygak cut through the air, practising the swordplay of the Gak family with such a fine blade, and once he was done, he cleaned the blade and sheathed it. It was enough to say that he had completed the swordplay of his family with such a fine blade. His eyes trailed upwards, towards the open sky.

'Grandfather, do you see?' Laygak called out into the world with his heart.

'Jaygak, she's reached such a height, and even this worthless grandson of yours, he has finally wielded the likes of the Thousand Celestial Storms…' A gentle wind caressed his cheek.

'You do not have to worry. Jaygak has reached such a height, and I have even managed to claim victory against the future Scarlet Sword, but…' Laygak thought for a long moment.

'Though you have never known the storm known as Taygak, she is your granddaughter too, and her sword will soon pierce the heavens. So, enjoy your time in Hel, for by the century's end, we will meet again, and you will hear the tales from we who saw it with our own two eyes, heard it with our own two ears, and cut it with our own two hands.'