Simon was really worried about the old man. Something was clearly wrong with him. The two were now sparring on the side of the southern walls of the farmlands, the guards would even notice them since they were so loud in their spar.

The old man's once hearty appetite had dwindled to almost nothing. Simon, who had once eagerly accepted the old man's leftovers with gratitude, now found himself unable to muster even a shred of joy at the meager offerings.

Despite the old man's weakened state, there was one thing that ignited a flicker of vitality within him: the relentless clash of wooden swords as they sparred. The worn-out wood swords, weathered by countless duels, bore the scars of their fierce battles, each splinter and chip a testament to their dedication.

As they faced off day after day, the intensity of their swordplay soared to new heights. What had once been a casual practice now evolved into a relentless dance of wood and determination. With each swing and parry, the old man's movements defied his frailty, his muscles remembering the strength they had once possessed.

It made Simon doubt his skills, although the old man was in a weakened state he would still sweep the shit out of him. The wit and the experience played a huge part against the boy.

The rhythm of their fight echoed through the air, a symphony of clashing wood and heavy breaths, punctuated by the occasional grunt of exertion. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the art of combat, the outside world fading away to nothing but the sound of their own heartbeats.

For the old man, the thrill of battle was a temporary respite from the weight of his troubles, a fleeting moment of freedom amidst the chaos that engulfed them. And for Simon, watching the old man's determination blaze anew with each swing of his sword, it was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still hope to be found in the strength of their bond.

<--->

It was clear skies, maybe two or one and half days before the old man and the boy would see the Sun God’s Peak. The two would walk around the donkey path for eight hours and train in the morning and at night. They still had some rations that the Farmland nobles gave them.

Simon happily walked with his over-inflated bag. It was quite annoying for the old man though as he watched the boy trotted leaving heavy foot marks on the ground.

The old man immediately saw some shadows that were floating in the sky. skyhounds.

“Boy! We have company!! Drop your bags on the side of the road, be careful or it will burst!!!” The old man warned Simon, the boy immediately walked to the side dropping his bag on the ground and soon after that, he started collecting stones. The old man smiled, at least the boy remembered how to fight the skyhounds.

Simon counted at them, there were eight of them, not a surprising number for the old man since on their right side was the ridge of the Craig Mountain range.

“One’s coming!!!” the old man said to Simon and the boy immediately went back to his side sharing the stone he got. As the skyhounds started their descent the two literally enjoyed throwing stones at them. The old man could hit much more better than Simon, and the boy showing his competitiveness tried eagerly but only hit 2 of the skyhounds that attacked them.

Six survived the fall. skyhounds who had become unable to fly were already ready to throw their lives away to get back at the two, the skyhounds were proud of their wings and their ability to fly. After losing it they would consider themselves invalid and just waiting to die.

The old man drew his sword. Simon had the Earthen Wood Sword. Simon could tell that the skyhounds were looking to get back, as they lay bare their teeth and growled, the two humans enjoyed the blood lust that they emanated.

“Simon… the one with the green fang… it's poisonous be careful, and remember the smell,” the old man warned the boy even though he was sure that it wouldn’t land at the boy. A beast that was cornered and ready to lose its life was one of the most dangerous encounters.

The skyhounds barked and glared at the two as they prepared their final resistance or probably vengeance. It started with one of the skyhounds running into them, surprisingly, the skyhounds were slow. It was because they would always use their wings rather than their limbs.

The first attack was aimed at Simon and the boy dodged while hitting the attacker on the neck with his wooden sword, his proficiency of the move was already tested by that encounter with the large wyvern. Surprisingly as the final assault of the skyhounds, four assaulted Simon including the skyhound that had the green fang while two attacked the old man.

The old man felt pity for the four who attacked Simon since they wouldn’t be granted an instant death. The boy broke their necks, unlike the old man who sliced the head of the skyhounds that attacked him instantly killing them. The battle was over instantly.

“Simon… why didn’t you cut their necks?” the old man asked, Simon was capable of doing this, the old man was sure. Simon divided Joshua’s shield during their spar. It was the effect of the wooden sword. The earthen-based wooden sword would become heavy and solid when filled with magic.

The old man shaped and carved it like a one-sided bladed sword so it would be like a sword.

“Do I need to? Should I have cut them?” the boys asked innocently.

Finally, the old man’s eyes widened from the boy’s answer, he was starting to understand Simon’s nature. The boy didn’t have a conscience, no empathy, or whatever. It was his nature to have no empathy it seemed. Also the boy’s temperament of death around him. The thieves that they killed. Nothing mattered to the boy. It was as simple as swinging his sword and wiping off the blood.

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The boy was a stone-cold killer. The old man who had been doing his shit for a long time didn’t realize this immediately. A grave mistake on his side. But wouldn’t it be much easier for the old man? Wasn’t it okay for the boy to be like this? In the frontier, in this dog-eat world wouldn’t it be better if the boy stayed like this?

‘Of course it's not’ finally a sound voice resounded on his mind.

“Old man… how should we clean them?” the boy asked looking at the old man. Well, he was still the idiot boy that he had been raising ever since.

<--->

The Sun God Peak rose proudly from the landscape like a sentinel of ancient times. Its triangular form dominated the horizon, a testament to the enduring power of nature's handiwork. Jutting sharply into the sky, its edges are weathered by countless seasons, bearing the scars of time with an air of dignified resilience.

As one traversed the donkey path on the southern side of the Eastern Frontier, the Sun God Peak would command attention, drawing the eye with its majestic presence. Bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun or standing stark against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, it inspires awe and reverence in all who behold it.

A man was living his hermit life there. He was once a proud blacksmith of renown, already legendary, and his name was already written on the history. Ezagon Belled, a legendary blacksmith who created weapons that up to this day considered on par with legendary weapons.

He was the man who discovered the Star Ingot. A metal that couldn’t be processed no matter what. He theorized that the legendary weapons that were on record today were made up of this mineral. He made proof and found more evidence but the way to process this metal couldn’t be researched.

He spent his life studying this metal. Even now, his dwelling which was a cave was filled with carvings of writings. He made sure that even if he couldn’t finish it this lifetime it would be here. All of his work was immortally etched on the walls of the cave.

The man was old now. Too old to bother thinking too much. He would now spend his time looking down into the sights that the Sun God Peak offered. He was eating from the small plants and animals that would sometimes get lost, and drink water when it would rain.

He remembered some of the faces of those whom he called friends. Faces flashed on his mind and one was particularly approaching closer to him. It was strange, he hadn’t seen a human for a long time now. Seeing one moving closer to him, and someone he knew, he was thinking he was hallucinating.

“Re… cough… Red… Redgar Ni-… Redgar Nigel, am I hallucinating?! It would be so good if it was Lenaya instead, you ugly mug!! hah- cough, Hahahaha!!” Ezagon laughed by himself but he was sure there should be no one together with him.

“I’m real you mug fuck!!!” Redgar smirked, it was so good to see an old face. A face he knew, a face he worked with. Two of his knives were forged by Ezagon. The man shaking so much tried to stand up be he couldn’t. His body was shaking, well he hadn’t eaten anything for the past 3 days. He was actually just waiting for his death.

“You don’t have to stand up,-” Redgar sat in front of him. “-So you could still see me huh?”

“Now… that you are near me… I could now smell you… you smell so bad,” Ezagon said, the mocking tone was relentless even though he was in a weakened state.

“Do you need anything from me?” Ezagon asked. “Oh, I don’t do smiting anymore so you should know,” the old man said. It was told like a joke.

“No, I’m not here for more weapons, what have you been doing here Ezagon?” Redgar asked.

Ezagon smiled and now he really tried standing up. Redgar immediately followed up, he then took a potion and gave it to the old man.

“Is this a poison? Aren’t you still asking me something?” the crippled man seemed to be so detached from his life. “Just to remind you, you were the one who suggested this place for me, if you just remembered,” still a tint of guilt on his words.

“No you damned ass, it’s a stamina potion, it would fix you up so that you can move properly,-” the Redgar smiled, “-When I gave up this place I actually didn’t really care about it!”

Should Ezagon trust him? Well, nothing’s gonna change if he drank it or not. So he drank it up. In a few seconds, he felt his strength going back. His paled face returned to its natural color.

“The fuck is that drug?!! It seemed that alchemists back at home are getting better with this shit,” Ezagon smiled as he stood at his own strength. “Come let me show you what I’ve been doing!!” he was energetic, Ezagon led Redgar as they went back to his dwellings.

There was a small opening on the Sun God’s Peak, it was just a small crack. It led to a tunnel that went deeper into the mountain’s intestines.

As the scarred man followed Ezagon he stopped seeing some pile of bones “Oh is that your dog?” Redgar noted.

“Oh that’s actually two of them, when my dog died I found another one,” the old man answered.

They left the bones and continued going down. After a while, there was a large cavern. There were carvings on the walls, and a small crack from above made up some lights inside, it flowed into a crystal in the middle of the room. It illuminated the room.

“You are crazy,” Redgar said as he saw the state of his ancestral cave.

“No… I’m just thinking, what do you think?” Ezagon asked for Redgar’s comments but the man didn’t understand a damn thing.

Still, Ezagon seemed to have avoided writing his scribbles on the murals of the cave. It was a heritage of Redgar’s ancestral roots. The last Red Monk was a title that Redgar was born with.

The two sat down as Ezagon tried explaining the scribbles, after a while from the explanation of the carvings, they started talking about different things, especially what was happening around the frontier. It continued to the part when he told him about the new accomplishment of the last hero of the era; Alphecca of the sword of light.

“That reckless bum is still alive… I thought he was already dead!! He should have been the first one to go!!!” the old man Ezagon smiled and clapped.

“It seems that you haven’t met him ever since,” Redgar said and it was true he was the first man that he had seen for almost thirty years.

“No… cough I’m really glad that I’ve seen you before I… cough… go,” the stamina potion effect was starting to diminish its effects. Ezagon continued… he started coughing… coughing non-stop. “I would like to… cough… I mean I would like to request you something,” the old man looked at Redgar eye to eye.

“No… you can’t ask me of that…” Redgar knew what the old man would be asking.

“Hmm… why did you come here cough!! anyway?” the old man was starting to get annoyed.

“Alphecca was supposed to find you here,” Redgar said.

“Oh… that’s a big problem… he always has a problem, I don’t wanna even think about it, bout’ it, how about you kill me now so that I won’t suffer for his problem,” it was like a joke, just a joke but Ezagon was really serious.

There was a suffocating silence “I would even send a message to Lenaya that you still love her,” the old man said. Redgar slapped the ground.

“That’s the most convincing thing you have ever told me…” Redgar said and he drew to knives, the knives that the old man made.

“That’s what I’m talking about… make it painless,” Ezagon said.