Adam coughed as he awoke. “Ah, fuck.” His entire body ached, as though he had been hit by a truck. ‘Did I get isekai’d again?’

“You’re finally awake,” called a familiar voice.

Adam’s eyes snapped open to see Sonarot sitting beside him, brushing his hair gently. He was currently in bed, in a room he did not recognise.

Quest Complete: Meet Jarot

XP Gained: +200

XP: 7570 -> 7770

“Sorry,” Adam said.

“Why are you sorry?” Sonarot asked, peering down at him.

“I didn’t manage to get him to apologise.”

“That is what you are worried about in this state?” Sonarot asked, raising her brow.

“It’s not like I was going to die,” Adam replied, simply.

“Why do you think so?”

“I’m in the Iyr. Of course I won’t die.”

Sonarot couldn’t help but smile. “It is fine. Small Father is a man who likes to joke. Even him attacking you was a joke.”

“That’s one hell of a joke,” Adam said.

“Our relationship is like that,” Sonarot said. “Though his words are putrid, he cares for me deeply.”

“Oh,” Adam said, reaching up with the one arm which didn’t hurt, covering his face. “Then it’s rather embarrassing.”

“You were so chivalrous,” she said. “That is what they call it in Aldland.”

“So you’re finally awake!” Jarot shouted as he stormed in, grinning like a beast. “Otkan, come! Look at him!”

The one known as Otkan stepped in. She was tall and strong, and would have been a beautiful woman if it wasn't for the huge scar across her left eye and down the side of her neck.

“This boy is quite strong,” Jarot said. “He has quite the sword as well.”

The old woman stared down Adam. “I would like to see your sword.”

Adam looked to Sonarot for guidance, unsure if he should randomly let Iyrmen grab at his sword, especially one meant for Dunes’. ‘Wait. Kan?’

“She is Amokan’s grandmother,” Sonarot said.

“Oh,” Adam replied. “Sure.”

Otkan grabbed the blade, which had been resting nearby, and picked it up to examine it. “I will need some time to feel the blade. Is that okay?”

“As long as you return it in the same condition as you received it.”

“I will.”

“Why are you being so coy?” Jarot asked, staring down at the Half Elf he had almost killed. “Adam, son of Fate, dear Grandson, tell us what the blade does!”

“Grandson?” Adam said. “Just moments ago you were trying to kill me.”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be dead, boy,” Jarot said, far too casually. “Even Sonarot would be unable to stop me.”

“Would I?”

Jarot thought. “No. After all you had done to me, perhaps my dear daughter could.”

“Anyway. The sword has a small bonus, deals additional damage, can strike true three times a day, and revitalises the user when it does.”

“Amazing!” Jarot declared, showing off to Otkan. “Does it not deal more damage? That of searing light?”

“That was me,” Adam said. “I can Smite.”

“You can Smite? Ho! No wonder I felt such pain! Truly, you are a great Grandson of mine.”

Otkan remained staring at the sword, ignoring her friend who was trying to rile her up. “Would you be willing to face me tomorrow with this sword?”

Adam blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I would like to face you, to see if you are as powerful as Jarot says.”

“I just got my ass handed to me,” Adam grumbled. “If I’m feeling lucky tomorrow, I’d rather go and enchant an axe rather than get beaten up by another monster.”

“Right, you wanted my old axe, did you not?” Jarot said, rubbing his cheek with his good hand. “I should have told Sonarot that you could not take it if I had known you were going to refuse.”

“So I get your axe, old man?” Adam said.

“You should call me Grandfather,” Jarot insisted. “You are worthy enough for both.”

“Worthy? You talk a lot for a guy who almost lost to a baby Elf boy! If I had used my magic, you would have gotten your ass handed to you!”

“You!” He reached up a hand to smack him, but he caught Sonarot’s eye, and quickly rubbed the back of his neck. “Why are you using a sword? You are a Rot, and the Rot family uses axes.”

“An axe and a shield,” Sonarot said.

“How am I meant to use a shield?” Jarot asked, rubbing his shoulder where his arm used to be.

“Right, well,” Adam said, trying to move on from the awkward conversation. “I will make a great axe. I’m planning on making it my best weapon yet.”

“Will it be similar to this blade?” Otkan asked.

“Similar,” Adam replied. “Though I’ll be enchanting it to be much more powerful.”

“When you are free, I would like to face you.”

“I don’t know. I have the festival coming soon too, and I need to make sure I don’t die before that.”

“I will reward you if you win,” Otkan stated.

“A reward for winning? How am I meant to win against you?” Adam grumbled. “What do I get if I lose?”

“Then you would have lost nothing, but you will gain the admiration of our youth if it is a good showing on your part.”

The words were rather honeyed, enticing Adam. The admiration of Iyrmen would mean that his tale would be spreading through the Iyr, which also added to the prestige of the Rot family.

‘I can’t really run away now, can I?’ He sighed. “Do I get to fight in my full gear?”

“Yes,” the Iyrman replied. “Bring whatever you please. Your magic, your weapon, your armour. I will fight you with my greatsword and nothing more.” She stared down at Adam. Her eyes seemed expectant, hopeful.

“You know… I’m still annoyed!” Adam pointed at the old man. “I wanted to get you to apologise.”

Jarot chuckled. “I can see why you like him. Good, you should behave just like this now that you are one of us! If someone tries to sully our name, beat them as you please!”

‘Damn, this old man is so likeable,’ Adam thought. “I don’t care about that sorta thing. However, if anyone tries to bully any of mine, I’ll teach them a good lesson.”

“Good! That’s how you should be!”

“That includes you, old man.”

Jarot continued to laugh.

“How the hell did you survive my onslaught?” Adam asked. “I’m pretty sure if you were a Dragon I could have killed you.”

“I am no Dragon, boy. I am Jarot, son of Varot.” His eyes darkened for a moment. “No Dragon could beat the likes of me.”

Adam hadn’t expected the man’s eyes to look past him like that. “Yeah? Still, you’re one hell of a monster.”

“We of the Rot family channel our rage in such a way,” he said. “Almost all damage, from fire to poison, is nullified to some extent when we embrace our rage.”

“Ah,” Adam said, nodding his head. He understood what it was now, though he should have figured it out by himself. “Almost all damage.”

“Almost,” Jarot grinned.

“Anyway, I’ll see if I can face you tomorrow,” Adam said. “I’m still half dead.”

“Father will bring some potions to heal you,” Sonarot said.

“He does not need any potions. A good meal and a good night’s rest will do him well.”

Sonarot’s eyes narrowed at the older Iyrman, who quickly left, taking with him the Devilkin boy who had been sitting outside, reading a book.

“You should not mind him,” Sonarot said.

“He’s pretty fun,” Adam said. “I might even call him Gramps one day.”

Sonarot smiled.

“I have heard much about you,” Otkan said. “You are quite the warrior. I saw you face against my grandson during the festival.”

“He was pretty strong,” Adam said. “If he had hit me, I would have probably lost my head.”

“He is as wild as his father,” she said.

“His father? Shikan?”

“Yes,” Otkan said.

“He seems so… I don’t know, sombre.”

“After the death of my granddaughter, my son has become more sullen, yes,” she said.

Adam closed his eyes. ‘What’s with all these Iyrmen and making things awkward?’ “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“There is no need to be sorry,” she said. “Amokan will bring back the glory which had been taken that day.”

Adam looked to Sonarot for support.

“Your granddaughter also refused to join his party,” Sonarot said.

“She had?” Otkan asked. “Then it is her misfortune to do so. I have heard you have some relation with Queen Silvari.”

“Entalia? Yeah, she’s…” Adam wondered how to introduce his relationship with Entalia to a relative stranger. “A friend.”

“How did you become friends with her?”

“It’s complicated,” Adam said.

Otkan waited, expectantly.

“It’s not something I can reveal.”

Otkan bowed her head. “We all have our secrets.”

“Especially you Iyrmen,” Adam said. “From the storm, to the scary looking Iyrman I saw with the skull on their head, to all the Great Elders wanting to kill me.”

Otkan tilted her head slightly. “Why do they wish to kill you?”

“Well, I’m not sure if they do…” Adam thought back to Elder Gold’s glare that day. “Elder Gold probably does.”

“Then you must be a danger to the Iyr,” she said. “Otherwise they would not wish to kill you.”

“Little ol’ me?” Adam asked, motioning to his half dying body. “Really?”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Otkan said, brushing her scar.

‘Seriously! Why do you guys have a habit of making everything awkward? You’re almost as bad as me.’