image [https://i.postimg.cc/QtCYzvhp/Chapter-14-Unlikely-Allies-The-Judgment-of-the-Ascendants-Mindful-Matrix-Art.jpg]

Ralkar turned the door handle with a playful smile, but what he saw when he opened it made his expression change completely.

In front of him stood the short figure of an old Zharq, his thick beard and mustache hanging like silver moss under his wrinkled face. His hair, white as the moon, fell in disheveled strands, without the usual hood that hid most Zharq-Gûl.

He observed him with a strange mixture of respect and bad temper in his gleaming eyes.

—Jarvick! —Ralkar exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy.

Without hesitation, he embraced him, lifting the old man off the ground as if he were a feather.

Jarvick grumbled, his feet kicking in the air as he tried in vain to free himself from the embrace.

—By all the withered stars! Let me go, you idiot! —he protested, though he couldn’t stop a slight smile from forming at the corner of his lips.

Despite his irritable tone, there was a glint of relief in his gaze—. What do you think you're doing, lifting me like a sack of grain!? I’m your butler, not your toy!

Ralkar set him down carefully, but the wide smile never left his face.

—I’ve missed you, you old grump —he said, waving a hand in front of his face—. And it seems you haven’t changed a bit.

—Of course, I haven’t changed! —Jarvick snorted, brushing off imaginary dust from his robe—. You, on the other hand, disappear without a word, leaving me at the mercy of...! —He trailed off, and the harshness in his voice softened—. You had me worried, Ralkar... a lot.

Ralkar looked at his aged companion with a momentary solemn expression. He knew Jarvick was tough on the outside, but beneath that grumpy exterior, there was a heart that, though old, still cared for those he served.

—I’m sorry, friend —he said sincerely, placing a hand on the Zharq’s shoulder—. But I’m here now. And I promise, there’s a good reason for all this.

His eyes sparkled with that familiar gleam that always appeared when he was plotting something.

Jarvick raised an eyebrow, but before he could reply, a shrill, childish voice interrupted the warm scene.

—Ah, the great Ralkar Drakhalir! Such infinite wisdom, my lord! —The voice echoed from the side, full of exaggerated admiration bordering on the ridiculous—. Always saving the best for last, as usual! So tactical, so brilliant!

Jarvick pressed his lips into a thin line, casting a withering glance toward the source of the voice. He grumbled under his breath, his eyebrows knitting together, marking his growing bad mood.

—Always ruining the moment... —he muttered to himself, his fingers drumming nervously on his robe.

Ralkar, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smile. The familiar sound filled him with a mix of amusement and affection.

He looked to his side, tilting his head slightly down, and there he saw it: a small black-furred dog with eyes that sparkled with arrogance.

Despite his haughty posture and obvious attempt to appear imposing, his tail betrayed the truth, wagging frantically, revealing his joy.

—Tyr! —Ralkar exclaimed, with a soft, amused laugh.

Tyr raised his head even higher, as if trying to maintain a dignity that his enthusiasm failed to uphold. But as soon as Ralkar knelt and began to pet him, the dog abandoned any pretense of grandeur.

He rolled onto the floor, exposing his belly, while Ralkar, in a playful, exaggeratedly sweet voice, said:

—Who’s my little four-legged psychopath? —Ralkar said with a crooked smile, rubbing Tyr’s ears—. You are! Of course you are, little monster!

Tyr responded with an even more frantic wag of his tail, and though his eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and embarrassment, his arrogance seemed to crumble under Ralkar’s caresses and words.

—Look at him, so evil and adorable at the same time! —he continued, chuckling as the dog let out small growls of satisfaction.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Jarvick, for his part, crossed his arms, watching the scene with a frown. He muttered under his breath about what he considered a waste of time, though deep down he knew that Tyr, despite his attitude, was a reliable ally... when he wanted to be.

Ralkar sensed a faint presence behind him.

He turned his head and saw Angyara peeking timidly from around the corner of the door, her large eyes full of curiosity. She had been listening from inside, and upon hearing Ralkar’s familiar tone, her anxiety dissipated.

She felt more at ease knowing that those who had arrived were not strangers to Ralkar. So, she decided to come out and see for herself who these visitors were.

Ralkar turned slowly, still holding Tyr in one arm, cradling him like a spoiled baby.

Despite Tyr’s small size, his presence radiated an oversized confidence, even when Ralkar held him in such an undignified way.

—Come here, Angyara —Ralkar said, leaning toward her so she could see better—. I want to introduce you to two good acquaintances.

Angyara’s eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and wariness. It was the first time she’d seen someone like Jarvick.

The old Zharq, with his silver beard and short stature, observed her with a look that combined impatience and a sort of distant interest.

—This grump here —Ralkar began, waving his hand toward Jarvick— is Jarvick. His race is Zharq, although due to his life cycle... well, it’s more accurate to call him Zharq-Gûl. You know? Over a hundred years have passed, so now he’s the grumpy old man we all know and love. Though, if you ask me, he’s been a grump ever since I’ve known him.

Jarvick grumbled, clearly dissatisfied with the description.

—I’m not a sideshow attraction, Drakhalir... —he said, before looking Angyara up and down, as if assessing her worth in a single glance—. Anyway, it’s a pleasure... I suppose.

The girl felt an insatiable curiosity growing inside her, but she managed to maintain her composure.

Ralkar, not missing a beat, pointed to Tyr, who was still comfortably resting in his arm, though his tail hadn’t stopped wagging from side to side.

—And this little devil who looks so harmless... don’t let his cute appearance fool you —Ralkar added playfully—. Tyr is anything but an ordinary dog. He’s a little monster, right, Tyr?

Tyr let out a soft growl, a sound that seemed more like an affirmation of his greatness than a protest. His eyes sparkled with that arrogant gleam, but his relaxed body betrayed his haughty attitude.

Angyara, somewhat intimidated by Jarvick’s presence but filled with curiosity, managed to take a step forward and introduce herself.

—I... I’m Angyara —she began, her voice soft but clear, trying to maintain her composure under the intense gazes of Jarvick and Tyr.

But before she could say more, Jarvick waved a hand impatiently.

—I already know —he said, cutting her off unceremoniously as he approached her with quick, short steps—. We don’t need unnecessary formalities, girl. Let’s get to the important stuff.

Ignoring Angyara’s protests, Jarvick began to examine her in a manner that could be seen as rough. He pushed her slightly to one side and the other, his wrinkled hands running over her torso as if searching for any trace of the wound that had once afflicted her.

—Let’s see if Ralkar did a good job or if I’ll have to fix more disasters —he muttered to himself, while his narrowed eyes gently felt the spot where the wound had been.

Angyara let out a soft whimper of protest, but the old Zharq-Gûl paid no attention.

—By the broken moons! —he finally exclaimed, pulling back his hands with a genuine look of surprise on his wrinkled face—. Not a mark. Not a single scar.

He turned to Ralkar, casting an accusatory glance.

—What the hell did you do to make her heal so fast, eh? —he growled, though there was a shadow of admiration in his tone.

Ralkar dodged Jarvick’s inquisitive gaze, as if the question about Angyara’s healing faded into the air.

The Zharq-Gûl, after a brief pause, simply grumbled again and didn’t press further. He knew Ralkar too well to know that insisting would be useless.

—It makes no sense, whatever you did —Jarvick grumbled, narrowing his eyes, but said nothing more.

Meanwhile, Tyr, with his usual arrogance, made a nimble jump from Ralkar’s arms, landing gracefully on all four paws.

He stood tall, puffing out his chest and adopting a posture that pretended to be majestic, as if he were the master of all that surrounded him.

—You should know, girl —Tyr said in a deep voice, looking at Angyara with his bright eyes—, that it was I who saved you from those beasts and brought you here. Which means that from today, your life belongs to me.

With an air of grandeur, he lifted his small paw, expecting the girl to bow down and kiss it in a gesture of submission and devotion.

Angyara looked at him, incredulous and somewhat amused.

Here's the translation of your web novel excerpt into English, with dialogue and thought formatting preserved:

He clearly remembered the imposing figure of the beast that had saved him: a fierce creature, as large as a wild wolf. Comparing that image with the tiny dog standing in front of him, a mocking smirk crept onto his lips.

—You? —he said, suppressing a laugh—. I don't remember you being so... small.

However, he decided to play along and began to slowly lower himself.

Tyr, feeling victorious, raised his paw even higher, as if he were about to receive a grand ceremony.

But just when Tyr seemed convinced that Angyara would yield to his supposed greatness, she raised a hand and, without warning, gave him a light tap on the head, catching him completely off guard.

—You're a lying little dog! —Angyara exclaimed, crossing her arms, her voice firm and full of reproach.

Tyr, stunned, blinked a few times, unsure of how to react.

He tried to regain his dignity, but Angyara didn’t give him the chance. She tapped him again, this time more gently, like one would reprimand a mischievous pet.

—You can't go around making things up! —she said sternly, glaring at him with accusing eyes—. You should learn to be honest!

Ralkar, who had been watching the scene with a broad smile on his lips, burst into laughter.

—It seems you've been taught a lesson, 'great supreme lord,' —he mocked, while Tyr glared at him with narrowed eyes, clearly upset by the betrayal.

Jarvick, on the other hand, couldn't help but roll his eyes at the spectacle. He turned to look at Ralkar with a mix of exasperation and resignation.

—Why do you always have to surround yourself with these ridiculous shows? —asked the old Zharq, though a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips.