476. The Trip III

476. The Trip III

Jurot eagerly butchered the wolves they had slaughtered, cutting into the pelts, bleeding the creatures into the snow. Some of the children watched, excited as they watched the butchering.

Wolves howled in the far distance, and Adam frowned. It would be a small issue to deal with the wolves, and even if they came across such a scene daily for the next week, they’d easily be able to deal with it.

However, this entire scenario caused Adam to think in the corner, his eyes glued to the forms of the Iyrmen, who all lived a different life to him.

‘I shouldn’t have been able to beat Morkarai,’ Adam thought. The thought continued to fill his mind, even as he looked at the XP he was currently sitting at.

XP: 16, 200

It was more than enough to Level Up. His next Level would have been decent, that was for sure, increasing his Mana, increasing his Health, and generally making him less likely to die. Yet, he would still only be a fraction as powerful as he was previously, and there were still random old men in the world who could look his way and kill him.

“I’m going to tear the scroll,” Adam said.Diiscover new stories at novelhall.com

Jurot stopped his butchering and stood, and Kitool and Jaygak both nodded their heads his way.

“What?” a child said, all the other children looking the Half Elf’s way.

The teens also stared at Adam, surprised to hear that he was willing to tear the scroll. The wolves which would be upon them in the next few minutes wouldn’t be a huge deal, especially considering the teens were fresh and could assist in the fights.

“You cannot,” another child said.

“Why not?” Adam asked.

The children looked between one another in various states of shock.

“You cannot,” the child repeated, pointing up at him, as though to put a final point in their statement.

“It’s too dangerous here, and I’m not confident enough to protect you,” Adam admitted.

“You are a coward,” a child said, pointing at him too.

“Yes.”

The children shook from the blow of the word. Even the teens raised their brows in surprise, before they controlled their brows quickly. Adam admitting he was a coward had struck the Iyrmen deeply. How could he admit to something like that?

“You are no Iyrman!” a child declared.

“Obviously,” Adam replied.

The teens looked towards Jurot, wondering what he would say. He was the oldest Iyrman here, and even the children looked his way for support. Jurot nodded, giving Adam his blessing to tear the scroll.

“This is not right!” a child cried.

“This is not right!” the children declared together.

The howls echoed, but they were louder than before. Adam tore the scroll which he had been given, which burnt to ash in an instant, and scattered in the wind. The temperate around them dropped slightly, but they made to move, forcing the children into the cabin with the teens, whilst Adam took his place at the tower.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, unless you want me to treat you like an idiot.”

“You old men are rude,” Strom said. “You really won’t tell me what you’re still doing here, alive and well?”

“No.”

“Why not? I’m a dying old man! Who would I spill your secrets to?”

“Shama and Lord Stokmar,” Raith said, taking care to speak politely about the being who had been formed by the Gods hands. For someone with a deep connection to the Gods, Stokmar wasn’t so bad.

Strom grumbled quietly. “So what do you think?”

“Of the Fae?”

“Only half.”

“Do I need to have an opinion about him?”

“Isn’t he special?”

“Special? He is an Anomaly, foreign to this world. He has gained strength quickly, but he’s easy enough to swat away.”

“You haven’t noticed?” Strom asked, smirking wide. “I thought someone from your era would at least have sniffed it out.”

“Sniffed what out?”

“What are you offering for the information?” Strom asked.

The old Raith remained silent, not wanting to give anything to Strom, who was known as a troublemaker, even back then.

“You’re not tempted?”

“You don’t live as long as me while being tempted by every little Hero who appears,” Raith replied, simply.

Strom stared at the old man, who was older than even he. It had been a surprise to even himself to hear that this man was alive, even after finding out that Shama’s father was alive too. No, it was less surprising this one was still alive in comparison to Asa, considering Asa had crossed many different borders, to the point it was near impossible to return.

“Are you one of the Nine?” Strom asked. Raith’s glare caused the old Emperor to smile. “I was only asking. I thought, since they would have probably killed you if you were still alive, you must have joined them to survive.”

Raith’s witty response remained within his mind, not wanting to give Strom even the slightest hint of a clue to anything the Lord of Storms was curious about.

“They think you’re Wiseraith,” Strom said.

The deadly silence continued, and after another round of grumbling, Strom stood up, leaving the old Raith be.

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