Chapter 165: Vol.6 SS- The Holy Sword And The Mist Blade.
Rorken "Dr. Jacobs" Bloodfallen's POV
I watched as Dallin waved back at me as he was led away by his brother to the clothing store. There was a part of me that thought something like this would never have been possible, but it was a relief to see them getting along like brothers, even if they were a bit awkward.
Somewhere along the line, I had been left behind by everyone. I was just an old man to most of them, so I blended into the background of their minds with ease. But even so, it was just nice to sit back and watch all these young folks.
Seana was speaking to someone of her bloodline while Alanis spoke to a Dark Elf boy who was apparently friends with Kaladin. Padraic was busy wooing some half-Dwarf in a wheelchair which was an odd choice, but that entire family was missing brain matter so it wasn't that big of a surprise. Mila, as adorable as she was, seemed rather content being with the half-Dwarf as well. Perhaps she was a good soul. The young girl's smile was genuine despite being tired.
As for the Vampire…she had taken some noble-looking girl off to the side for a conversation.
Which left Cerila alone. It pained my heart to see the girl like this. She works so hard to just stand there by herself…damn that fool, Kaladin. I should wring that idiot by his neck—
I felt a familiar aura that I hadn't felt in decades. No matter how the passage of time drifted by me, I will never forget that man. I couldn't help but feel surprised that he still drew breath and walked this world.
"To think you are still alive, you old sack of bones. Shouldn't you be fertilizing the ground somewhere," I groaned, not even turning around to face him.
The man chuckled to himself, and I listened as he licked his lips. "I do believe that was my line. You haven't changed a bit for a dead man."
I turned around slightly to face the voice to find an old man hunched over a cane, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and robes that were common in The Mists. Flanked to either side were two young men that somewhat resembled the old coot in his youth. I smirked as I realized neither of them was wielding a sword.
"You sure about that? All these years, and you're the one that hasn't budged a bit, considering these two boys of yours haven't received your 'blessing.' Did you even pass it off to your eldest?" I snorted.
"They were free to choose their own path," he snapped back.
I snickered at him. "I'm sure that's exactly what they told themselves," I said sarcastically.
The old man sighed deeply. "I was hoping death would have changed your crude way of speaking, but it seems that's impossible. Not even your god accepted your blackened soul. And the last time I checked, I didn't see another with the title of Holy Sword."
"Yeah, I guess not," I said with a grin. "You know, for the first two decades, I expected you to show up at my doorstep at any moment. I didn't know The Mist Blade had gotten soft in his old age," I jabbed.
"That's rich coming from the man who pretended to be in a coffin until he was old and gray. How convenient for you? And this soft old man seems to remember beating you in the last tournament," the old man chuckled.
I clicked my tongue at him. "We are tied two to two, you old coot, or has your brain turned to mush?"
He returned my words with a snicker. "Even after all this time, the mighty Holy Sword of Amon-Ra still holds a grudge. Isn't it better to forgive and release one's anger or something?"
This guy…really gets on my nerves. I mean, I deserve it, but damn, I hate his guts.
In all my life, I've only considered one man to be my equal, which was begrudgingly. The two of us were evenly matched to the point that a win or loss merely came down to who was having a slightly better day than the other. I remember eating only the best food and scouting out the arenas days in advance just to acclimate to the area for our battles. I trained for months for even the most minute of advantages.
We did everything to beat each other. And our battles were always brutal. It was to the point that we had to go off into the wilderness away from people, fight nearly to death and report back what happened later. Even with both of us going into each battle with the full intention of killing one another, neither of us was capable of completing the finishing blow.
We often fought to the point of exhaustion, wobbling on shaky legs and crashing to the ground in pure fatigue. God, I hated those moments so much. They were a stain on my pride and accomplishments.
I hated it almost as much as I hated him.
"I'm thinking we break that tie once and for all right now," I spat.
"Ohhoho, here I was thinking the same thing. I suppose you do have some brains left in that thick skull," he chuckled back.
The younger of the two men stood in front of us and gave his father a questioning glance. "Dad, who is this man to make you like this? I never thought I would say this, but please…we have a meeting to see Ren. We must go."
"It won't take but a moment to kill this sack of dust," the elder Maran spat.
"A moment? I need a second to split your head open," I growled.
"Wow, wow, wow. What is this? I didn't know you had so much energy in you, Doctor," Alanis chuckled from behind me.
"And is that you, Master Maran? It's good to see you are well," Alanis said.
"Doctor of what? Being a damned bastard?" he grumbled.
But the old man smiled kindly as if the face before was just an illusion. "Oh, Alanis, it's been a while. I heard you had returned. To think that boy was your son after all. I apologize that I haven't made time to speak with you, and I'm afraid I won't be able to," Elder Maran said while stroking his long white beard.
"No need to worry about such things. I'm sure you are a busy man these days. It's just good to see that you are alive," he said with a soft smile.
"You have changed a lot from the man I once knew. You've become stronger and wiser," Elder Maran said fondly as he peered at Alanis.
"I Like to think that I've changed for the better," Alanis said softly back to him.
Alanis clapped his hands together and nodded at the young men. "Now then, I shall retrieve my relic and you yours. How does that sound, gentlemen?"
"Relic? Who are you calling a relic, you old bastard?! You are ancient compared to me!" I snapped back at him.
The older of the sons just laughed as he led his father away by the arm. "We'll take care of him, Chief Shadowstorm."
"Hold on! I only need a minute to end him! Just—" his voice trailed off as the son carted him away. The younger one bowed deeply before running off to catch up.
"Damn…I should have killed him when I had the chance," I grumbled.
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