An old man with a face permanently tanned from too many years in the sun appeared from the treeline along the back of the canteen. Despite his advanced age, his body was strong and brawny. His back is like an ancient oak, gnarled yet sturdy and unbroken by time. His gait was that of a lion's, slow yet powerful, ready to pounce on his prey.
This old man was no other than Zerle. For the first time in years, he had left his comfortable cottage, his usual doddery, eccentric demeanor was nowhere to be seen. His usually distant eyes had focused on the figure of the injured blond cultivator, a sharpness that could cut steel was present in his pupils. An aura that greatly surpassed Lein's stretched out.
Behind Zerle, Hela stood fidgeting, out of breath from chasing Zerle. In her 24 years of serving Zerle, she had never seen him like this before, and she found that she didn't know how to react.
Lein stood up straight. Zerle took a step forward. Lein took a step back.
"I have asked you once already. I might be old, but I still have eyes, you know. Though it seems you might have a problem there yourself." Zerle said as he vaguely gestured at Lein's eyeball still rolling around on the grassy ground, its golden hue covered by dirt.
Lein shook slightly, glancing quickly at Eon with a confused eye. Why did a once-powerful foundation stage cultivator step in for this random brat? It was just some servant, their worth wasn't that high.
"Ah- I am sorry, senior. I was just disciplining this servant, who had the gall to harm me. May I inquire as to what you wish to speak with me for?"
Even a person like Lein knew how to speak respectfully, when necessary. He was also still hoping that this matter could be handled without Zerle interfering.
"You seem to be the one attacking this young man, after all, who could be so foolish to face a body-tempering cultivator as a mere mortal? Besides, my personal servant here attests that you were the one who approached Eon, and with the intent to kill staining your aura, it would be in your best interest to stop lying. I would ask again why you are attacking and attempting to kill this servant. I won't ask a third time." Zerle replied with a raised brow.
"He harmed my head servant, senior. He needed punishment as he deeply offended me, and now he has even ripped out my eye, losing his right to live. He is a mere mortal, and he flew too close to the sun. It's time for his wings to melt so he can fall back to his place, the hard ground." Lein, realizing that trying to mislead Zerle too much would likely backfire, gave Zerle an only slightly distorted truth.
"Hmmm. I see. What if I asked you not to? Would you do this old man a small favor such as that?"
Lein glanced down, still looking at Eon's neck. After feeling the bruise on his own neck unconsciously, Lein hesitantly shook his head, and then did it more firmly.
"I am truly sorry senior, but this is not just something I can let go of. He has done too much damage, he can't be allowed to leave here with his life, or I will lose all my reputation. Please accept my sincere apology." Lein said with a deep bow, he knew this was his last chance to try to settle this peacefully.
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"Really now? Hehehe~ isn’t that interesting? 80 years ago, disciples would scurry around to gain my favors, and even the elders wouldn't dare cross me lightly. And yet you, a mere entry body tempering cultivator, dares not give me even this much face? It seems that this old man needs to remind the sect that he is still alive, and very much deserving of respect."
With every word he spoke, Zerle's aura surged, causing a cold sweat to break out on Lein's face. Still, Lein would not back down, he now hated Eon too much, and his reputation was on the line, so he could only hold out.
After 15 seconds, the imposing aura Zerle gave off finally disappeared. Zerle let out a tired sigh, speaking once more.
"Unfortunately, you aren't backing down. It seems I have to use 'that' method. You really put me in a bind here kid, I won't forget that. While I can't stop you from killing a servant who has harmed you, that's only a rule for servants… oh well."
Zerle suddenly took a deep breath before letting out an ear-drum-shattering yell that rang out across the entire mountain.
"I, ZERLE, LOST ELDER OF THE FORT SCALE SECT, OFFICIALLY RECOGNIZE THE SERVANT EON AS MY PERSONAL DISCIPLE! ANYONE WHO MESSES WITH HIM MESSES WITH ME!"
Lein looked on with disbelief. He had heard the stories about Zerle, he had refused to take a disciple for the last 100 years. What was so special about this mortal? Why? Why?! Why was it this bastard, instead of himself?! He was obviously more talented, stronger, and of a superior bloodline! Why was it this trash?
Lein was baffled by this turn of events. Normally, Lein would not care if Zerle accepted Eon previously. After all, it wasn't that uncommon for a foundation cultivator to take a personal disciple in the sect, usually, at least one disciple would be named by the 20-odd foundation cultivators in the Fort Scale Sect every year.
What confused Lein was that he was obviously superior to Eon in every conceivable way, so why was Eon taken by Zerle as his disciple? A deep pit of jealousy was planted into Lein's heart, making his hatred for Eon run even deeper.
Yet now, Lein couldn't make a move, as that would be opening himself up to the attacks of Zerle, who could now kill him without repercussions if Lein tried to kill Eon. All he could do now was grimace before stiffly turning away, dark thoughts consuming his mind as he swiftly walked.
Zerle panted heavily before walking over to Eon. That yell and using his full foundation aura, even for that short of a period, took a lot out of him. A look of concern crossed Zerle’s face as he examined Eon, and he realized Eon's wounds were much worse than he had thought, a dark look crossed Zerle’s face as he grunted to express his dissatisfaction.
If Zerle had known Eon's state, he wouldn't have wasted so much time talking to that arrogant sniveling brat. Working swiftly, Zerle fed Eon a white powder he kept in his robe for emergencies and cast a levitation spell on him. This would prevent Eon's wounds from worsening and him from dying for a while.
Zerle quickly ran back to his home with Eon in tow, leaving a stunned and still out-of-breath Hela in the dust. Zerle couldn't help Eon here, he needed his tools. Zerle set Eon on the bed and set to work with magical tools, some of which were reminiscent of surgery instruments on Earth like scalpels, tweezers, and monitors; others had no Earth analog, having countless stabilizing and healing effects on Eon's body.
No matter what, Eon was now Zerle's disciple, and Zerle had acknowledged him as such. What kind of mentor just lets their disciple die without even trying to save them? Or so Zerle felt. He thought of the last time he had acted as the master of a young disciple, his features blurring over Eon’s in his mind from a time long ago, and he let out a forlorn sigh.