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162. Apologise

Sonarot and the elderly Iyrman threw Adam a look of shock. No one would dare speak so rudely to an older Iyrman, especially not to an Iyrman like him. Even the Devilkin had stared up at Adam in shock.

The old man dropped the watering can and reached down to the axe at his side. “To call me an old bastard…” The Iyrman hoisted it up. “You sure have some guts.”

Battle Order

D20 + 1 = 8 (7)

Adam quickly drew the blade at his side, which was not Lightsear, but Dunes’ Sword, as the old man rushed towards him. He could see the old man’s eyes had turned completely white and red had rushed through his face as he leapt to battle the Half Elf.

‘Shit!’ Adam thought as he met the old man in battle.

Adam, typically, was confident in facing against his enemy.

Adam, typically, wore his platemail.

Adam, typically, had three other Iyrmen around him.

Adam, typically, didn’t fight Iyrmen.

It had taken only a moment for Adam to realise how out of his depths he was as the older Iyrman slashed through Dunes' Sword, and cut deep against Adam’s chest, causing blood to spray out and cover his face.

Health: 52 -> 36

“Do not fall yet, Elf!” the old Iyrman growled in glee, striking Adam once again

Health: 36 -> 19

Warrior Spirit: 3 -> 2

Health: 19 -> 24

“I,” Adam said, inhaling deeply as he focused on attacking the older man, “am only half an Elf!”

Attack

D20 + 7 = 12 (5)

D20 + 7 = 26 (19)

Hit!

Dunes’ Sword Charges: 3 -> 2

Critical hit!

Mana: 10 -> 8

2D6 + 6D3 + 6D6 + 5 = 51 (1, 3)(2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3)(3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6)

Damage resisted!

26 damage!

3D3 = (1, 1, 3)

Health: 24 -> 29

Adam slashed wildly towards the older man, who took a blow which would have almost knocked Adam out, only for the blade to barely dig across the man’s chest.

‘Damage… resisted?’ Adam thought, his heart pounding wildly as he clutched at his sword tightly in hand. ‘This guy is cheating! How did he resist it all?’

“Is that all you have, boy?” The Iyrman asked, raising his axe questioningly, wondering if Adam had anything else in store.

Onward Soar: 1 -> 0

Attack

D20 + 7 = 26 (5)

D20 + 7 = 18 (11)

Hit!

Dunes’ Sword Charges: 2 -> 1

Critical hit!

Mana: 8 -> 6

2D6 + 6D3 + 6D6 + 5 = 50 (3, 4)(2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3)(1, 3, 5, 5, 5, 5)

Damage resisted!

25 damage!

3D3 = (1, 2, 3)

Health: 29 -> 35

Adam inhaled deeply as his muscles pulled taught, swinging his sword wildly again, the Jagite blade cutting through the man’s side, forcing a small trail of blood out of him. He had only managed to nick the man, the Iyrman’s muscles were almost made of steel with the way they resisted against his blade.

“Are you going to apologise yet?” Adam asked, staring up at the man. ‘God damn! This guy’s taken so much damage. Why the hell is he smiling?’

“That’s better,” Jarot said, winding his axe back.

‘Oh shit!’

Tough Spirit: 1 -> 0

2D6 + 4 = 13 (3, 6)

Health: 35 -> 48

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He swung wildly, crashing his blade through the sword in Adam’s grasp, forcing Adam to skid back away from him, only for the old man to charge in again.

Health: 48 -> 36

Adam brought the blade up to crash against the axe, only to find it digging into his shoulder as his blade buckled.

Health: 36 -> 20

Adam’s muscles burnt under the blow. He hadn’t fought in so long, and he definitely hadn’t faced anyone as terrifying as this old, one armed Iyrman.

“You are still up?” the old Iyrman said, his eyebrows raised as he grinned like a wild beast.

“You should stick to retirement old man,” Adam replied, side stepping as the Iyrman pulled back his axe, readying another swing.

Warrior Spirit: 2 -> 1

Health: 20 -> 25

Attack

D20 + 7 = 18 (11)

D20 + 7 = 21 (14)

Hit!

Dunes’ Sword Charges: 1 -> 0

Critical hit!

Mana: 6 -> 4

2D6 + 6D3 + 6D6 + 5 = 46 (3, 4)(1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3)(1, 1, 4, 5, 5, 6)

Damage resisted!

23 damage!

3D3 = (1, 1, 1)

Health: 25 -> 28

Adam stepped forward, plunging Dunes’ Sword through the old man’s side. “Apologise, you old bastard!” Adam growled, though stared up in surprise to see the old man was still conscious, and more terrifyingly, smiling down at him. ‘How the hell is he still up? He’s taken so much damage!’

“If you think a little kid like you is going to down me,” the Iyrman said, holding Adam’s shoulder before striking his axe down across the Half Elf’s chest, “you are stupider than you look.”

Health: 28 -> 12

He pulled his axe out, causing Adam’s blood to fly across the pair of them, and he slashed Adam one last time, dropping the Half Elf.

Health: 12 -> 0

Jarot let Adam go, allowing Sonarot to catch him. He laughed like a savage beast. “Where did you find this one? If I was twenty years younger, he would have killed me. No, if I was not a Rot, he might have killed me. Where is Otkan? Someone bring her to me!” The Iyrman continued to laugh, blood seeping out of his wounds.

Sonarot quickly tended to Adam’s wounds, covering him in bandages. The blows were terrible, but since she had quickly staunched the wounds, they wouldn’t kill Adam.

“Did you really have to go all out against him?” Sonarot admonished. “He is Jurot’s age. You should feel embarrassed for fighting him so eagerly.”

“Jurot’s age?” he asked, staring down at Adam. “Yet he beat Amokan and Timojin with ease. If he had used his spells, I might have been in trouble.” Jarot leaned in to look at the Jagite longsword, causing some more blood to spurt out of his wounds. “That sword of his is powerful, far more powerful than the other. Where did he find it?”

“He made it,” Sonarot said, checking over Adam again more keenly. He was heavily injured, and was teetering on the edge of death, but she was certain he would not die. If he did, Jarot would have much explaining to do.

“He made it?” the old Iyrman said, staring down at Adam. “Such a powerful weapon?” He has heard that Adam’s enchanting skills were amazing. “Yet my grandson carves wood.” The old Iyrman sighed, shaking his head.

“He is a Nephew of the Rot family,” Sonarot said. “Does that not make him your Grandson?”

“In the Iyr,” Jarot said. “You should marry him immediately so that he will understand he is my son. If we do not claim him, another family might.”

Sonarot rubbed her forehead. “Be careful of what you say, Jarot. Adam is my Nephew, and he is a member of our family through it.”

“Does he even know what it means? We need to marry him into our family immediately, or he may escape us yet.” Jarot sat down, reaching out to the Devilkin boy, who grabbed the old Iyrman’s finger for a moment, before pulling his hand away. “If I brag about him to everyone, they may try to steal him.”

“So? He will marry whoever he pleases. There is a…” Sonarot wondered if she should mention Entalia, but thought against it. “Regardless, he will not abandon us.”

“How do you know that?” Jarot asked, allowing another member of the Rot family deal with his wounds.

The Devilkin stared up at the old Iyrman, who only grinned wide, reassuring the teen.

“He cares very much for our family,” Sonarot said, brushing Adam’s hair. “For Jurot and Lanarot. He has embarrassed himself so much for Lanarot.”

“If you insist. It seems I do not have to worry about him marrying into our family, then.” Jarot flexed his muscles and rubbed the side of his neck. “He is quite the monster. Are you sure he is Jurot’s age?”

“He is,” Sonarot replied. “He has developed quickly, and those around him have already gained so much strength. Even Jaygak and Kitool have managed to reach their core strengths.”

“Did they not leave recently?”

“Yes.”

“How did he do it?”

Sonarot smiled, having yet informed the old man of Adam’s latest escapades. She was going to have Jurot explain them once he had returned. “You will hear how soon.”

The children had all gathered around, first checking on their elderly caretaker, before checking Adam, their Cousin.

Sonarot noted the eyes of all the children gleaming at the Half Elf who had fought quite hard and well against Jarot.

Even the twins were beaming down at Adam, chattering between themselves.

“We should try and marry him for granduncle’s sake,” one said.

“He is so strong,” the other said, squatting down and poking his leg.

“He can enchant and use magic,” the first said.

“Will he pass that knowledge on to our children?”

“We will make him.”

Sonarot stared at the girls. ‘Should I have stopped the fight?’

Jarot began to laugh again, surprising the children, who stared up at him. “Old bastard!” the old Iyrman shouted. “You need to be at least that audacious to challenge the Gods!”