“You must be the heroes who assisted my mother in the previous year,” Meek Dragon said, clasping her palm over her fist once more, bowing her head respectfully towards the group. “Please accept my gratitude.”
“Oh? Are you Lord Taymoraleaf’s daughter?” Adam called, gasping, his lips forming a wide smile. “You must be Kal Isam’s sister.”
“I am his cousin,” the woman stated.
“Oh. Whose…”
“Lord Romoleaf,” Jurot said.
“Ah!” Adam nodded. “We helped Lord Taymoraleaf though, right?”
“Yes.”
“Either way, haha, it’s alright! It was our pleasure, our honour, to assist your mother!” The half elf declared, and he recalled how many tiny gems she had gifted him, the kind of gems which allowed him to show off to his children. “To think the Amira didn’t tell me about how many esteemed guests we were standing before.”
“Though I would like us to continue our conversation, I believe it is my turn to step forward,” the woman with the sword said, drawing it as she leapt forward, her entire body hidden behind layers of black, even most of her blade hiding within it, save for the tip. Only her beautiful face remained to the world, from her brows to her chin, though not even her ears or neck. Her lips were painted black, and a line of yellow fell from the middle of her lower lip to her chin.
Tanagek stepped forward since the woman had held his eyes for a long while, and as she smiled, he donned his shield and drew his sword.
“Are you a descendant of Hadi?” Dancing Wolf asked.
Tanagek bowed his head. “My name is Tanagek.”
“Oh ho?” The woman’s eyes suddenly flashed with a greedy gleam. “He was your… great, great, great grandfather? No, twice great?”
“He was my grandfather’s grandfather,” Tanagek confirmed, his steel gleaming within the air, the blade as still as ice.
“I must thank Lord Noor for such a pleasure!” the woman declared, and as she stepped forward to face Tanagek, her lips formed a wider grin. “Allow us to dance!”
The woman was swift, but Tanagek was swifter, and though the black of the various layers of her clothing spun, whipping in the wind, hiding much of her form, Tanagek’s sword swung true. As the song of steel filled the air, the woman’s sword blurring through the air, and yet found only the tip of Tanagek’s steel, while Tanagek’s blade cut through her clothing, and as she brought her magical steel up to defend herself, she kicked off the young Iyrman’s shield, landing ten steps away, though Tanagek was upon her once more.
“You certainly are a Tanagek,” Dancing Wolf replied, clasping her palm over her fist, bowing her head as Tanagek stopped, skidding slightly. The woman sighed, for of all the warriors she could trust to stop at an appropriate time, it was an Iyrman. “I fear even if my Master faces you, she might find herself unable to defeat you.”
“I am a Master, and though I know of my family’s way, it is my sword which is grand,” Tanagek said, having sheathed his sword and strapped his shield upon his back.
“Are you saying it is that good?” Dancing Wolf asked, for it was not entirely unbelievable, as their clash had lasted but a moment, and yet she had felt the sword threatening to break her own magical blade.
“Yes,” Tanagek replied firmly. “It was my nephew’s gift to me.”
“Your… nephew?” Dancing Wolf replied, noting the clear look within Tanagek’s eyes. She blinked. Is her Aldish that rusty? “Your… nephew gifted you such a grand blade?”
“He designed it and…”
A fake cough distracted them.
Adam hid behind his fist, though his smile shone brightly from behind it, and he let out approving grunts which caused the others to glance his way. “Oh? What’s this? Are you speaking of my son? My son who is so sweet? My son who is so affectionate? My son who is so well behaved?”
“As affectionate as you?” Navid teased.
“Hmph! My son is as handsome as I, his father! My son is beautiful as she, his mother! My son is a wise as she, his mother! My son is as gentle as she, his mother!” The half elf paused a moment, for wasn’t his son even more gentle than his mother?
“The rumours is that you are married to a Hope?” Navid half called.
“A Ray of Life’s Rose,” Adam confirmed, and as he brought his fist up to his mouth to hide his smile, his smile widened further. “The youngest to claim such a position.”
“I see now why you must be so talented…” Navid joked.
“Right? My wife is so beautiful, so talented, so wise, so I have to be this strong! Even my son, he designed it, and his-,” the half elf’s smile quickly dropped, darting to the side slightly. “The Enchanter, who just so happens to be… I mean, my son designed it, and then he handed it to this fool of a father to forge it, for I am the High Alchemist and the High Smith of the United Kindom, so I have some small ability, and then this fool of a father of his asked the Enchanter, and though the Enchanter may not have done so when I asked, how can the Enchanter resist my son’s charms?”
The others wondered what he meant about the Enchanter, but they read between the lines, though it was perhaps Miriam, the Amira, who was able to understand what the half elf was doing, for though he was a fool, he was no idiot.
“Enchanter?” Navid called, daring to speak up, for he was the one who had been beaten up, so he was closer to the half elf.
“The United Kindom is a business, and as I am its High Alchemist, and, technically, its High Smith, there are also others, and the Enchanter is, perhaps, the most important figure, the one who enchants, as is their title. We, the various Executives, have some connection to the Enchanter, and, well, you know, the Enchanter is able to enchant weapons for us, to assist us on our journey to sell the magical weapons, and to protect ourselves and our family.” The half elf smiled innocently.
‘Is he the Enchanter’s son? So that makes his children the Enchanter’s grandchildren?’ Navid thought, and with that, it explained why the Enchanter would enchant a sword, especially if they called the Enchanter’s grandchild their nephew.
Suddenly, the warriors understood why the Amira had called them here, and it wasn’t just because they wanted them to meet the youth of the business, who were already such monsters, but because…
“I suppose it is my turn to step forward?” the woman asked, in her late thirties, and she wore scale, the kind that may have been magical, especially considering they were almost pearlescent, which defined her grandfather’s martial epithet, yet her own was thanks to the longspear within her hands. “I am Grey Spear.”
“I am Chosen,” Chosen said, stepping forward.
“Who is the most famous of your family at this time?”
“That would be my granduncle, Bloodblade Shasen.”
“I do recall that title and name but…”
“He is not Aldish.”
“Ah? I believe I know of a Bloodblade Shasen? Is he from the East?”
“That is granduncle Shagek, our granduncle,” Chosen replied, chuckling lightly as he donned his shield and raised his sword.
‘Damn. Everyone’s related to everyone else.’ Adam thought. “Do you by any chance know of my-, ah, well, Chosen, you should fight first before I take the light from you.”
“You do not have to worry about my feelings in such a way.”
“Oh? Talking big, are you? If you lose, I’ll tell Karot.”
Chosen’s eyes slowly trailed to the side. “Those are the words which wound me most.”
“I dare you to lose with my son’s sword in your hand!” Adam growled. “If you do, I’ll beat you up!”
“You are your grandfather’s grandson.”
Adam flushed, huffing slightly. “Grey Spear! Beat him well! If you do, I’ll give you a thousand silver! No! Ten thousand silver!”
“Lanarot would like to see you this way,” Jurot said.
“Those are the words which wound me most,” Adam replied.
Jurot remained silent. Pam stood beside her husband, glancing aside towards him, partly wanting to ask how she was meant to grow more powerful like this, even if Adam said it was fine and had partly explained it to her. However, he had looked so manly when he had fought the Pious Sword, so remained by his side.
“Shall we begin?” Grey Spear asked, clasping her spear tightly in hand, ignoring the half elf, who seemed to be such a fool, understanding that was how it was because he was strong.
“I must warn you, this blade of mine, was also a gift from my nephew, who is as sweet, affectionate, and gentle as his mother,” Chosen warned, and as he clasped the blade tighter. “So I intend to face you with all my might.”
The woman let out a soft exhale, and as she bowed her head, the two straightened themselves and burst forward, spear whipping through the air, sword blurring through the air.