Glenn blinked in confusion, before pulling himself together and wiping the guilt off his face. Crying about being a murderer will come later. The old man was pinching his nose, his expression twisted in disgust. He wore the same simple tunic and pants as the day he first met him, and his gray hair and beard were still as well-kept as ever, barely hidden under a straw hat.
“Urgh, did ya’ dive into that darn’ sewage river, kid?” The old driver winced, taking a few noticeable steps away from Glenn. He looked up and down at him with a critical eye, his expression worsening gradually.
Glenn grimaced as he glanced down at himself. He could only agree with the old man. He was still covered in filth, dry and fresh blood, as well as…whatever those unspeakable liquids were. Glenn shook his head to clear his mind and stared back at the old man. Diamanes had already told him he was an incredibly powerful guy. And he did not doubt that whatever cult captured him, they weren’t going to be happy to learn that two of their cultists died at his hands. And that their mysterious Accumulator trinket had disappeared, probably in his hands.
Maybe he could try to find some help from the old man. Having a powerful backer would mean he would not have to worry as much. Lost in his contemplation, Glenn failed to notice the geezer giving him a one-shoulder shrug and turning back, unconcerned.
‘Your saving line is running away,’ Diamanes nudged at him, successfully pulling him out of his trance. Glenn abruptly snapped back into reality and hid his purple hand in the disgusting rag that served him as clothes. No need to scare the old man off with some mysterious disease or curse.
“Wait, sir, can you help me?” Glenn ran desperately behind the old man, trying to catch his steps. The old man didn’t stop, unbothered to stop for some weird disgusting kid. Glenn gritted his teeth and ran as fast as he could, but oddly, despite the senior’s measured pace, the distance between them only grew. Glenn almost lost him from sight and had to pick a random shortcut through the derelict streets of the Sewers, pausing only to shake off the corpse of a rotten, half-eaten rat he had stepped on accidentally. Yuck.
He managed to catch up, but the old man quickened his pace.
“I can pay!” He yelled in one last hopeful attempt. More than one gaze turned toward him, but upon the realization that the old man was also interested, they all turned back. The geezer looked at the sky while muttering something under his beard, and pivoted around swiftly to size Glenn up and down.
The old man grinned mockingly, “I ain’t into young'uns, nor that sort of business,” He shook his head while pointing at the chains wrapped around Glenn’s limbs, “ And ya’re a man, so it’s a definite no.”
“Even if ya’ have some stashed coins somewhere, lemme tell ya that I ain’t interested in your smelly ol’ copper!” The old man scoffed as he waved his hand dismissively. His sarcastic smile quickly vanished when a gold tint appeared in Glenn’s dirty hands, disappearing back the way it came from. Glenn certainly wasn’t going to show his wealth in this kind of place. It was already extremely risky for him to do what he just did, but he didn’t have a choice. No risk, no rewards. And he hoped that his reward would be a war machine-like old man for his troubles.
The old man blinked, before suddenly disappearing. Glenn opened his mouth to gasp but a gust of wind suddenly forced his eyes closed. He felt something clasp on his arm, and before he could react, the ground disappeared under his feet. When he reopened his eyes, he was being held above one of the dilapidated cabins, high above the streets.
‘Something is very wrong,’ thought Glenn with an uneasy feeling. It took him another second to make the correlation between the lack of a place to put his foot on and their current height. He was hanging over the edge, threatening to be thrown a dozen meters down at the old man’s wish, for it was his sole arm holding him up.
Glenn looked up at the old man, squinting at snowflakes that were delicately landing on the old man’s straw hat while he breathed out white vapor. Their surroundings had suddenly become freezingly cold, probably due to the old man’s influence. Even now, a thick layer of ice was growing on the old man’s body and covering every part of his limbs, his green eyes emitting a silver glow. Glenn shivered, the cold wind chilling him to the bones.
“I see you are improving your disguises every day!” The old man sneered, his clench tightening around Glenn’s wrist, “So come on, you maggot. What’s the target? What more dirty work do I have to do, you cursed trash?” He hissed through his clenched teeth with an icy and irate voice, nothing like his previously affable personality. Glenn would have rather stayed with that previous personality instead of the ancient soldier one, riddled with war traumas. Which made a bit of sense.
The grip on Glenn’s wrist tightened, threatening to be crushed at any second. He gritted his teeth and tried to free himself with his other hand—he’d worry about revealing his purple hand later on—but the old man was too strong. It was impossible to force him to let go. Diamanes wasn’t kidding when he said that a flick of the old man’s fingers could kill him.
‘That’s not exactly what I said, but yeah, I did warn you,’ commented Diamanes in Glenn's mind, thoroughly amused by the situation. His host wasn’t having as much fun as him, though.
“I swear, this little shit is just a Beginner Initiate. What games are they playing, damn it? Do they think I'm that easy now?” spat the old man hatefully before violently tossing Glenn onto the roof, breaking a few makeshift tiles. Glenn landed on his back, gasping as the air was pulled out of his lungs.
‘Thank the weird cultists' guys for giving you a reinforced spine,’ Diamanes laughed mockingly, earning a grimace from his host. Glenn coughed and pushed himself up, staring at the old man with a renewed look of fear and respect. This…this formidable strength was incomprehensible. What was worse was that he knew that the old man had barely used any force. Crushing Glenn would be as easy as breathing for him.
Glenn’s heart missed a beat as he suddenly imagined himself having this power to himself, a power that would be enough to crush any monsters or cultists that tried to kill him. With stumbling steps, he steadied himself up and raised his hands in appeasement.
“Wait, cough, this is a misunderstanding,” Glenn pleaded, before hurriedly ducking and narrowly dodging a thick spike of ice. The old man’s face had hardened and twirls of mystical blue light appeared around his right hand, conjuring a majestic ice spear carved in deep blue ice. Most of the old man’s body became covered in the same material, almost shaped like a knight’s armor that enveloped and protected him.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Who do you think you’re addressing, boy? You dare accuse me of misunderstanding when your very existence is a mistake and a shame to life itself?” The old man roared with bloodshot eyes, his teeth gritted so hard they might shatter at any moment.
‘A tongue as sharp as his spear,’ remarked Diamanes, still unconcerned with this thorny situation. Glenn could only count on himself to get out of it.
‘...Maybe I shouldn’t have involved myself with the incredibly powerful psychopath,’ Glenn suddenly realized as the insane geezer stared down at him. He stared back, enduring the pressure of the old man’s eyes while opening his mouth to try and explain himself.
“Hah!” The geezer drew a deep breath as a pressure similar to Diamanes’ fell on Glenn’s shoulders. He shuddered, feeling as if he was an appetizing prey in a forest, surrounded by white wolves ready to pounce. It was nothing like Diamanes’ pressure, but it was still making his knee buckle.
But that was that. He trembled and had a hard time breathing, but that was it. He cast a defiant glance at the old man, whose gaze suddenly changed to one of interest. Baring through the pressure, Glenn gritted his teeth and hissed, “I didn’t mean to offend, you fucking crazy geezer! You drove me to the Gate some time ago and I—argh—I simply recognized your face in the street!”
The old man brushed his beard while he made his spear spin gracefully in his other hand. A gust of visible, almost icy air accompanied each of his movements, white vapor following him at every move.
“Hmm…oh, that kid who used my cart…” The old man frowned, before rubbing his eyes in disbelief and doing a double-take, “Wait, what?” The hardness on his face melted away like snow in the sun, as did the ice spear he was holding. A large cloud of white steam evaporated in the air as the coldness in the area disappeared.
“Didn’t I leave ya’ to the Frozen Gate? Why the chains and the shit? Ya…” He frowned and took a disgusted step back, “...Ya’re not part of the ones that enjoy these weird games, are ya’—”
Glenn cleared his throat and interrupted him, secretly sighing in relief that the old man wouldn’t try to kill him anymore. He brushed the dust off his shoulders as his fear and adrenaline subsided. He glanced at the street down below and shivered.
“I…I would love to explain what happened to me, but I’d prefer a more grounded location, if possible,” He articulated slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground while imagining what his skull cracked against the pavement. The old man chuckled and patted his shoulder as he also peered down at the street.
“My ol’ knees could certainly use someplace to sit. Ya’ know the Cold Beer, right? I’m sure ya kiddo will forgive me for my antics if I offer a mug of ale, ay?” He laughed warmly while continuing to pat Glenn’s back. The latter thought back to the inn, restraining a grimace as he realized that all his problems stemmed from that place and those barely stashed drugs he burned. With a bit of luck, the owner would be glad to welcome it with all the gold he gave him. And the prospect of enjoying a shower and a warm meal was more than appealing. His stomach grumbled loudly as if to echo his thoughts.
Everything will be fine as long as he doesn’t touch a drop of Fiery Spirit, anyway.
…Probably.
‘Yeah, keep telling yourself that,’ Diamanes snorted.
‘Shut it,’ replied Glenn with the mental equivalent of clenched teeth. He turned to the old man and rubbed the back of his head, a wry smile on his face.
“Do you mind leading the way? I…I have no idea of where we are.”
The old man smirked and shook his head slowly, “Don’t be shy, kiddo. Despite my age, I still have yet to explore every nook and cranny of the Sewers!”
Glenn returned his smile awkwardly as he tried to get a hold of this enigmatic geezer. One moment he appeared like a sweet grandfather, the next a formidable and chilling fighter who could kill him with a sneeze. The sudden apparition of an ice platform under their feet interrupted his thoughts and startled him. The old man crossed his arms as the platform gently brought them to the ground, hovering silently.
‘Holy…this is so cool. Hey, Diamanes, can I take this…spell, ability, power, or whatever that is?’
Diamanes laughed derisively in Glenn’s mind, ‘Feel free to try if you’re keen on meeting an early demise. You’re nowhere near Sir Geezer’s level. Attempting to use his power would be like asking a newborn to wield a greatsword to cook some fine cuisine.’
Glenn frowned and rubbed his forehead. Where did these crappy metaphors his companion kept using come from?
‘I can hear you.’
In the meantime, the old man had already stepped down from the ice platform, looking expectantly at Glenn.
“It ain’t a bit of ice that’s going to scare ya, is it?” He laughed. Glenn jumped down from the platform and joined the old man’s side, glancing back at the platform disappearing in a cloud of steam. Magic was really cool. One moment it’s there, the other it’s gone. Fascinating.
“I’m Glenn, sir. Can I ask for your name?” Glenn asked politely. The old man displayed a toothy smile and chuckled loudly.
“It’s been eons since anyone asked for my name. Back in the day, they called me Redan,” He pronounced the name, his eyes drifting away, heavy with memories. Glenn nodded slowly when one of the chains he was dragging around clattered against a sharp rock and made an unpleasant noise. Redan frowned and glanced at the restraints on Glenn’s limbs with displeasure etched on his face. He held his hand out, a sharp, ice sword emerging. A second later, the shackles crashed on the ground, severed like they were nothing but paper.
“T…thanks,” Glenn muttered, rubbing his wounded wrists. He was still bleeding slightly, but it was nothing compared to the pain he had been enduring in that prison.
“Ya’re welcome.”
Redan led Glenn out of the Sewers with assured steps, the heavy feeling of the overlapping houses crushing down on him fading away under his guide’s footsteps. A little less than an hour later, they sat in the Cold Beer, both nursing pints of ale. Glenn had felt a little expectant at the idea of encountering the owner, Winston, but he was absent, and someone else took over for him. According to a waitress, he had left the inn over a month ago.
Glenn’s stomach was stirred by the aroma of an incoming plate of roasted potatoes and chicken, delivered by an angelic waitress. Glenn didn’t know if it was the food that was making him hallucinate, or if the woman had some sort of divinity to her, but to him, she absolutely appeared as the savior he desperately needed. He wolfed down the food with insatiable hunger, making short work of it before ordering a new plate.
Despite the lack of salt and pepper, or the chicken that was a little too dry and the potatoes a bit mushy, this remained the best meal he had eaten in his entire life.
“Hunger truly is the best seasoning, aye?” Redan muttered as he sipped on his ale, watching Glenn eat. Once the latter was finally satisfied, he leaned back in his chair and wiped his face with a towel. He glanced at it, seeing that he somehow managed to change the color of the fabric from white to black with a single wipe.
“...What?” He asked nervously while looking at the old man. Redan’s lips curved in a smirk and leaned on the table, his hands crossed.
“So, shall I listen to that story now? How did ya end up like this, kiddo?”