220. That Kind Of Fight

220. That Kind Of Fight

“Granduncle!” Jurot called, rushing over to an older man.

The old man, whose brow held the circle and diamonds of the Rot family, brushed the young Iyrman’s hair. “What are you doing here?”

“We were invited by Sir Merry to rest within the village,” Jurot said.

“Yes?” The old Iyrman raised his brows in surprise. “That is quite an honour.”

Jurot smiled wide.

“Is that your brother?” The old Iyrman looked to the Half Elf, who had approached.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Adam, son of Fate.”

“Sarot,” the old Iyrman said, shaking Adam’s forearm. “I have heard much about you.”

Adam smiled, but it quickly dropped. “Is that good?”

Sarot remained silent, and Adam’s brow began to fill with sweat.

“Are you Jarot’s brother then?” Adam asked.

Sarot raised his brows. “Grandfather Jarot,” he corrected. “And yes.”

Adam winced. “I’m not calling that old geezer my grandfather.”

Sarot stared down at Adam, seeing the way his face contorted. “There is the matter of respect.”

“He bullied me, you know? Knocked me clean out!”

“Did you deserve it?”

“No,” Adam replied. “For once, I didn’t. I called him an old bastard.”

“It sounds as though you deserved it.”

“He said something terrible about my Aunt.”

“Ah,” Sarot said. “Then you did not deserve it.” He nodded his head, knowing the relationship between Jarot and Sonarot. “That is just how my brother is. Still, you must show respect.”

“I’ll just call him old man then,” Adam said. “Since you guys are bothered when I say his name.”

“That is worse,” Sarot said. “Jarot is fine.”

“Was Surot named after you then?” Adam asked. “There’s a Jurot, who I assume took after Jarot, and then Surot, who took after you?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Is there a Tarot then?” Adam asked. “There’s a Turot, so there must be, right?”

“My younger brother,” Sarot said, nodding his head. “You are as queer as they say.”

“I am?”

“You ask me about families and names without greeting me.”

“Ah,” Adam said, his cheeks turning red. “Hello, Granduncle.”

Jurot looked to Adam. ‘So he can be embarrassed.’

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Sarot said, brushing Adam’s hair.

Adam felt a little awkward, but lost his nervousness since it seemed Sarot had accepted him.

“I am certain there are many stories you have to tell me.”

“Many,” Jurot said. “Lord Stokmar has awoken.”

Sarot blinked. “Lord Stokmar?”

“He who travelled with the Black Lion and Konagek,” Jurot said.

“A few hundred?” Adam asked. “Damn. I suppose the Iyrmen are excited for the chance of facing a living legend. I heard that there are only a handful of people who could match him.” Adam eyed up the old man, raising his brow. “Have you been fighting too?”

“Ay, I stretch my body now and again.” Sir Royce grinned wide. “Sir Harold’s been fighting nearly daily, but when he’s tired, I give the Iyrmen some fun instead.”

Lucy tried to step forward to try and enter the conversation, but Adam grabbed her shoulders and moved her aside.

“You guys fight daily?” Adam asked.

“He does. I fight every other day, or every few days if I’m too drunk,” he said, chuckling.

“How serious are the fights?”

“Most of them are quite terrifying, but others are until we’re winded.”

“You should be careful,” Adam said. “You’re not getting any younger, and you’re retired. Want me to speak with the Iyrmen to give you a break?”

Sir Royce laughed. “No, no. Old men like us need the exercise.”

Adam blinked. Here was a guy talking about fighting Iyrmen daily with such glee. He looked around, noting that most Iyrmen here were probably at least Silver Rank, with a few Mithril ranks no doubt.

“Have any Gold Rank Iyrmen come about?” Adam asked.

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t think either of us want to know the results of that kind of fight.”

“Why not?”

“The consequences of finding out is too dire,” he said, his voice seriously. “Though, this may be the last week the fights continue. It’s Nightval now, and it should be the time of rest. The Iyrmen will no doubt return back to the Iyr for the Twilight Month. I bet the Beast Wave this year is going to be rough.”

“Beast Wave..." Adam felt as though he was forgetting something.

Intelligence Check

D20 + 3 = 15 (12)

“Oh, right. I need to participate in the Beast Wave this year.”

“Oh? Are you staying here?” Sir Royce asked, staring down at the Half Elf.

“No, no. I need to head to Red Oak,” Adam replied, not liking the way the old man was looking at him. “If I participate in the Beast Wave, I’ll be able to buy some Red Oak.”

"Red Oak? Why do you need that?" Sir Royce raised his brows.

"Jurot would like to work it."

Sarot looked down to Adam, who somehow was on speaking terms with the Knight of Death, and wanted to acquire Red Oak for his grandnephew. ‘What a young man you’ve found, little niece.’

"Work it?” Sir Royce asked. “He’s a Woodcarver then? Why not help us here? There's some rare wood about this area too. Evergreen Wood, which has been used to create Eternal Crusader."

"What's the Eternal Crusader?" Adam asked.

Sir Royce chuckled, before his smile faded. “You don’t know?”

Adam shrugged. “I’m not from around here.”

"It is the greatest weapon to be created within this land,” Sarot said. “It was made before the time of we Iyrmen, and has been lose for millennia."

“How do people know about it then?” Adam asked. “If it was before the time of Iyrmen, they shouldn’t know about it, and there’s less chance that Aldland would know it.”

“A Priest of Nature, sworn to Mother Tree, learnt of it,” Royce said. “He set out on a mission to find it some centuries ago, and he has been lost.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “Though, with you here, isn’t it overkill? Plus, Sir Merry, he’s quite the guy too.”

“Red Oak has Iyrmen," Sir Royce added.

"You're not wrong about that,” Adam said. “I'll think about it."

“You might even be able to face Sir Harold if you help out,” Sir Royce offered.

“No thanks,” Adam said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think either of us want to know the results of that kind of fight.” Adam smiled.

You thought I could not use my meme twice in a row?

You underestimate Adam's sheer stupidity.