“Don’t look at me like that,” Adam said, feeling the gazes of the nearby Iyrmen, from his trio of companions to the younger Iyrmen he was partly in charge of.
“We wish to fight,” Jurot said. “Will you deny us?”
“I’m not that much of an idiot!”
“…”
Adam switched to the Iyrman’s tongue. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the noble.”
“Okay,” Jurot replied in the Aldish tongue.
“I’ll let you guys play around, get rid of the pressure that’s been building up in you,” Adam said, switching back to the Aldish tongue, letting out a tired sigh. “I thought the outbreak would have tuckered you out, but I should have expected.” He shook his head in defeat. “Iyrmen.”
“Would you not wish to fight?” Lady Marcia asked, her eyes glued to the young man’s forehead, before noting the supernatural beauty of the young man’s face.
“I may be a brother to an Iyrman, but I’ve had enough fights this year. Black Blood was good enough.”
“You fought Black Blood?”
“Yes.”
“How did that come to pass?”
“He-,” Adam began, before clearing his throat, lowering his voice slightly, doing his best to speak more neutrally, “didn’t like my tone.”
Lady Marcia smiled politely. Adam’s tone, which was far too humorous and light, did invite trouble. Even she had been caught by it. “What a shame, we would have loved to have seen your fight, since you wear the Iyr’s purple.”
“I apologise for being a disappointment, but I’m sure that, like my-,” Adam began, before coughing. “I thank you for your understanding in this matter.”
“I will fight,” Jurot said.
“I wish to fight too,” Naqokan said, before the other Iyrmen began to speak up, save for one.
Laygak’s eyes fell across the area, unsure if he should step. Jaygak pat his back lightly, her face filled with that kind of devious smile she liked to show off. Their eyes met for a moment, and Jaygak nodded her head.
“I wish to fight too,” Laygak eventually said, though his voice was meek.
‘We can defeat most here,’ Nirot thought, her eyes scanning the area. That wasn’t why she was so excited to fight, nor the reason why the rest of the Iyrmen were excited to fight. If they beat some of the seasoned fighters here, surely they’d gain a good story, but if they could come across a hidden, great warrior who could defeat them, that would be a good story too.
‘I should have expected the Iyrmen to be so eager,’ Lady Marcia thought, her eyes taking in the sight of the rest of Adam’s companions. She wondered what they were, for some of them wore armour made of kurabara, and others seemed to be farmers turned adventurers, considering the way they held themselves.
“Nobby, do you want to fight too?” Adam asked.
“Okay.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’m just asking if you want to.”
“Okay.”
‘Have they corrupted you this much?’ Adam thought, patting the young man’s back. “What about you, Brittany? Do you want to test your skills against any of them.”
“No thank you,” the young woman replied, still trying to make herself appear invisible.
“What about a little archery competition?”
“No thank you.”
Adam turned to face the young woman, taking a moment to find her from the sound of her voice. “You…” Adam paused. ‘What were you about to do, you idiot?’ “What about you, Ivy, John? It’s not every day you get the opportunity to have a little competition with the Whirlwind Arrows.”
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Ivy remained silent, though John, who originally wanted to refuse, paused to think. It was true that he wouldn’t get this kind of opportunity often, though, considering how many of these opportunities had already arisen beside the young man, he wasn’t sure if that was true.
“I’ll do it,” John said.
Ivy nodded.
“If you change your mind, Brittany, let me know.”
“…” Brittany glanced between the farmers and the elite archers of the Whirlwind Squad. Being from a village in what was previously considered South Aldland, she knew the name of the squad, and understood they were some of the best archers in all the land. “I’ll do it.”
‘I didn’t mention anything about the Whirlwind Arrows,’ the commander thought, though her eyes fell to the squad, some of whom were paying keen attention to the situation. ‘I’ll need to send a request for more fruit wine.’
“My squad isn’t here to play games,” the old woman said, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed. She had dark brown hair, sprinkled with white, her face wrinkled with age, though she was not quite yet venerable. She wore similar attire to that of the archers, though her chain armour was slightly thinner, and held a hint of blue, not quite like mithril, but similar.
‘Is she not going to listen to the commander?’ Adam thought. ‘Ah, is it one of those?’ Adam glanced between the young noblewoman and the seasoned veteran.
“If it is Sir Katherine’s wish, then the Whirlwind Squad will not partake,” the young commander said, finding no reason to upset the reason why the minor fort was safe.
“What a shame,” Adam replied. “It would have been such a lovely experience for ours.”
“I’m not here to give yours a good experience,” Sir Katherine said, eyeing up the young man. “Black Blood was more than enough experience for kids like you. One day, who knows, you might come across someone else.”
“That’s true enough, though it is awkward, since we’ve already come across King Merryweather previously,” Adam said. “My brother here, Jurot, was able to spar with him.”
Marcia’s eyes widened for a moment. “You were able to spar the King?”
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
“Before King Merryweather was a king, our paths crossed, and Jurot was able to secure a spar. This was back when a bunch of Iyrmen were sparring with the now King.”
“I do recall, yes,” Marcia thought, realising what Adam was talking about. It was one of the reasons as to why the King had managed to secure so many great warriors to his cause, and had kept them loyal, in no small part thanks to him sparring daily for magical items from the Iyrmen. Those magical items which would have sold for thousands of gold, gifted to the warrior as he sparred with them. It was a heavy price to pay, a price which had led to the defeat of the Iyr’s forces the previous year.
“The King used several great spells to deal with my brother,” Adam said, proudly. “He had to use at least two Fourth Gate spells!”
“Yes!” Jurot stated, standing a little taller. “It was a good fight.”
“Do you see how greedy my brother is?” Adam asked, letting out another tired sigh. “He already faced against one of the greatest in all the land, and he’s still wanting more. This is why I’m always so tired, it’s because you won’t let me rest, not even for a moment! If you ask me to take you to Lord Asa, I’ll do it, since my brother asked, but I won’t like it, let me tell you that right now.”
“Lord Asa is not someone anyone can meet so easily,” Marcia said, her lips faltering for a moment upon hearing that monster’s name. After all, if not for Lord Asa, the war would have gone very differently.
“My brother here’s already met him,” Adam said, patting Jurot’s back. “Plus, his grandfather fought him during the war, kept him at bay. Jaygak’s grandmother, too.”
“Grandaunt,” Jaygak said.
“What?”
“My grandaunt, Gangak, also kept Lord Asa at bay during the war, near its end.”
‘Her grandaunt?’ Adam thought, furrowing his brows. ‘Oh. What?’
“First Vice Commander Kris and several of our elders kept Lord Asa at bay,” Jurot said, recalling the tale of the previous year, the same tale which had ended in his grandfather’s leg being lost. “It was a good fight.”
“…” Marcia wasn’t sure what was happening. She had wanted to assess their abilities, to understand more about them, but the group was speaking of so many ridiculous things. This group had managed to meet several great names, to the point that even Black Blood seemed like a nobody.
“I heard the old man made quite a mess during the war,” Adam said. “Taking the arm of a vice commander? Not even I’d do something that stupid.”
“It was not stupid, it was to teach the vice commander a lesson,” Jurot replied. “Grandfather took the arm to inspire the vice commander.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Adam replied, chuckling lightly.
“Your grandfather was the one to take the vice commander’s arm?” Marcia asked, her eyes glued to Jurot.
“Yes.” Jurot stood up even taller, brimming with pride.
Kitool and Jaygak exchanged a glance between one another, once more overshadowed by the name of the Rot family. Jaygak sighed. Even her grandaunt, considered the most famous of the Gaks in generations, was overshadowed by Jarot, who was but one of many famous Rots.
Marcia had heard the tale of a crazy Iyrman who had fought with a vice commander and claimed their arm during the war.
“Your grandfather is Bloody Jarot?” Sir Katherine asked, her eyes glued to the young Iyrman.
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
Sir Katherine’s eyes remained completely focused on Jurot, having only just connected the pair together. Then her eyes fell to the young woman nearby, whose face was plastered with a wide, prideful smirk, her forehead tattooed the same as the young Iyrman.
Mara crossed her hands over her navel, wanting to show off her liege too, but she sensed how small Lucy made herself. Lucy had been wanting to fight this entire time too, but understood the precarious situation they were in. Then, upon thinking of Jarot, that Jarot, she completely lost all of her will to fight.
‘I’ll take it easy this year,’ Lucy thought. She was glad Jurot and the others were taking the attention away from her, only now realising how close to death she probably was, considering she was a demon.
‘Bloody who?’ Marcia thought, her gaze falling onto the older woman, whose eyes looked back to another time.