Primordial Sage: Plight of Immortality

“Hiey!” the Mayor screeched as he moved closer to Aziro, who was just sitting there with narrowed eyes.

“What is this supposed to mean?”

“What indeed… I guess it could be said that the heartbroken father has come to avenge his son,” Varel shrugged his shoulders.

But Aziro just snorted in disdain.

“Quit the nonsense. It’s not like I wasn’t aware of your relationship. If you really want to avenge him, then find that cripple who caused this mess.” Aziro was too annoyed to argue with Varel.

He didn’t even care about the subordinate who lost his hand. He was a glorious acolyte who was being worshipped by the masses like a god, yet he was done in by a mere meat shield. It was an utter disgrace.

“I already sent my men to look into that ‘Smiling Devil.’ It was this guy who did it, right?” Varel said with a grin.

Aziro showed a grim face. Back then, before the squad leader died, he noticed a small piece of steel on the ground. It was lying under one of the dead bodies, which made it the only evidence that was not cleared.

When Aziro took the piece, he immediately realized it was a piece of Caleb’s armor.

“Tch.” The only thing Aziro could do was click his tongue as he crossed his arms.

Varel just sat down on one of the chairs around the table and stabbed the apple that was on the tray along with other fruits. Usually, the winter was so harsh that most of the time there would be no way to cultivate fruits, and so most of them were imported from the south.

That made them extremely expensive, but Varel didn’t care as he lifted the dagger closer to his mouth and took a big bite out of the apple.

“So, what do we know about the guy?” Varel asked as he focused on nibbling the apple.

“Don’t you already know?” Aziro asked sarcastically. The man knew so much that it seemed as if he was there. And he probably was once he realized what was happening.

He was an assassin who could easily sneak somewhere and get whatever information he wanted. Not to mention, Aziro was sure that some of Caleb's men were actually Varel’s men, so he wasn’t surprised at all by everything the man knew.

“Hehe… It took me some time to arrive at the scene. When I finally arrived, the guy was gone. I didn’t see anything.” Varel shrugged his shoulders.

Aziro just rolled his eyes.

“Why did you come here?” He didn’t like playing these kinds of games and asked straightforwardly.

“Anxious, aren’t we? Isn’t it obvious? Because of your trap, my son ended up kidnapped, possibly dead. Don’t you think you should hold some responsibility and face consequences?”

Varel flicked away the stalk of the apple as he swallowed the last bit of the apple and then started to nitpick his teeth with the dagger.

Aziro’s face turned dark. He had already guessed the reason for Varel's visit, but it still made him furious when he heard it.

“Should I really? Your son was the one who decided to collaborate with me on his own. You have never supported him the least bit or shown any interest. But now, you want a piece of the pie?” Aziro just leaned on the chair he was sitting on as he observed the man.

“That’s right. My son was successful on his own and never really needed my help. In the end, blood is thicker than water, and my heart bleeds at the thought of my son dying in vain. And as far as I know you, you would definitely take my son’s shares and immediately put some of your dogs in his place, thus taking over the entire business.” Varel glanced with a grin at the quiet Mayor who had been quiet until now.

He didn’t take any strong guards to Aziro’s mansion as he knew how much the man hated it when the Mayor brought someone strong. This, however, left the Mayor extremely vulnerable, which made him fear for his life.

Fortunately, Varel wasn’t interested in him.

“Don’t you think that it would be better if you hand over my son’s shares and a little more interest to me? After all, the members of our gang are already used to the work, and when my son ‘returns,’ I will just hand him the shares back. Isn’t that a wonderful idea?”

Varel showed his teeth as he smiled hypocritically at Aziro, who kept an expressionless face while trying to calm his nerves.

“That’s not possible.” In the end, Aziro just said this curtly.

“Why not?” Varel still smiled obsequiously without a care.

“Because I don’t agree. Simple as that. Who do you think you are to pry something of mine out of my hands, you inept dullard?” Aziro didn’t feel like maintaining civility any longer as he felt Varel wasn’t his equal.

“Oh? That’s interesting. Someone who can’t reach a Magister Rank for decades calls me an inept dullard? How many times did you fail at getting your imprint, pray tell me?”

Varel just mocked Aziro’s arrogant words.

“What… Did you just say?” Aziro’s eyes shone dangerously, and the pressure started to emanate from his body.

Meanwhile, the Mayor decided to evacuate, running from the room while others entered.

They seemed to be soldiers, but the inauspicious aura emanating from them couldn’t be hidden.

Some of them limped as their legs were twisted, while others had mutilated chests.

It looked like Aziro filled his stock with the soldiers that didn’t make it through the incident. Soon, the room was swarmed with undead beings as they surrounded Varel.

“You heard me.” Varel still sat there without doing anything. He only raised his brows provocatively as he grinned at Aziro.

“You have become arrogant, Varel.” Aziro said expressionlessly as he did some mysterious incantation gestures, which caused his palms to shine with purple light.

Meanwhile, the undead surrounding Varel prepared to make their move.

Varel’s eyes turned into crescents as he reached behind his belt.

But just then, a loud and dignified voice resounded through the room.

“Halt.” A tall man entered the room through the broken doors. He was covered in a dark red coat with dark linings and had a saber strapped to his belt. He had perfectly trimmed ginger hair and beard, and his green eyes with indifferent expressions shone with pride.

He stood upright, reminding people of a blood-red spear aiming toward the sky, and truly looked like an extinguished gentleman with aristocratic blood in his veins as he entered with long and straight steps inside.

“Do you all think this place is a public tavern or something?!” Aziro finally lost it as he growled at the newcomer.

“Aziro, don’t overstep your boundaries. This town isn’t yours to act like a tyrant here.” The man didn’t even flinch at Aziro’s aggressive stance as he just stated the words he came here to say.

“Overstep my boundaries? The same could be said to you, Brynjar! Who do you think you are to enter my house without permission? Just because you have deep roots here doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want here.”

Aziro was blinded by anger as he was crashing into walls one after another in recent days and wasn’t able to do anything.

Filled with frustration, he waved his hand, and the blood-bone spear he had hidden suddenly spurred up and sped toward Brynjar’s head from behind.

“Do you really want to do this?” Brynjar, however, didn’t change his expression as he asked.

Meanwhile, his saber suddenly shuddered as it jumped off its sheath on its own and bisected the blood spear aiming at his head. Both sides of the spear helplessly fell on the ground as the blood-red saber hummed before flying back to its sheath.

“Ugh!” Aziro groaned in frustration. He stared at Brynjar, and Brynjar stared at him.

Varel just stood there smiling nonchalantly as he reached for another apple, not caring that he was surrounded by corpses.

“You think you can beat me?” Aziro asked, trying to suppress his emotions.

“Normally, no… But now? Definitely. The undead you recreated are of low quality. The blood spears that you bought from us are also almost gone. And most importantly… Your mana is at its lowest point, right?”

Brynjar asked with a small smile.

“Meanwhile, my mana is in perfect shape, and my aura can easily regenerate, so I won’t end up in terrible shape in the same way as you.”

“If you think that is enough to kill me, then help yourself. I will not fall without making you regret it.” Aziro said as ruthlessness passed through his eyes.

“You misunderstood me, Aziro. I am not here to threaten you or try to kill you or anyone else. I am here to play mediator.”

Brynjar said as he came to one of the chairs and sat down.

“Mediator? For what? To give my stuff to this guy?” Aziro sneered. He knew very well those greedy guys and that they had eyed his business for a long time. However, since Aziro was strong, they never bothered him and just waited.

But now, when he got a crushing defeat against Ezekiel and his mana was low, they finally showed their motives.

‘Damn it, if I were a Magister, this would never happen.’ Aziro lamented as he remembered the times he was optimistically thinking that he could reach Magister Rank if he was diligent in his meditation and mana absorption.

But the despair came when he tried to reach Magister Rank for the first time. He prepared everything he could with his fortune at that time, but in the end, failure awaited him.

Fortunately, it didn’t end up that badly since he survived and didn’t lose any progress. In fact, he went beyond the third level of acolytes. The step he was in was called Eclipse, and it was universal for the stage except Novice Magician.

As his foundation was shaken because of that, many believed his path on the magician’s way was already cut short.

But he was prepared to give up and focus on his retirement. However, one day, he found out that there was a deserter from the Elven race who escaped into human territory.

At first, he didn’t care.

However, when he accidentally met him on his way to his new workplace, namely Winterfrost, and almost lost his life despite Ezekiel being just a third level acolyte at that time, his interest in him grew.

He started his research on that man and found out that the reason he actually became a deserter was that he stole something from the mines.

And it wasn’t something as simple as the minerals there. Most soldiers fighting there usually took some of these as part of their loot. The mine was so humongous that the forces that fought for it didn’t care for the scraps. After all, only this type of mine would be worthy of being fought for over millennia.

What Ezekiel really stole was a kind of inheritance. Or rather, its part. Aziro couldn’t find anything about the inheritance. The only thing he knew was that Ezekiel became proficient in biomancy after that.

Since the big forces didn’t go after him, and it was just smaller officers and officials who showed interest in him, it meant that the inheritance wasn’t that good or that he had a really small part of it. But Aziro didn’t care. It actually was good since he had a bigger chance to obtain it.

It was also at that time when he met Caleb, who made several deals with him until they became fully business partners. Aziro used the money to bribe some of his superiors while buying tools to get stronger since he reached the peak of his personal strength.

He also started cultivating the forbidden technique of the Ghost Flame, which he deemed useless before because of its self-destructive characteristics. But for the sake of his future, he decided that learning it was a must.

This was twenty years ago.

As he reminisced, the loathsome voice appeared in the quiet room.

“You wanted to say ‘my son’s stuff,’ right?” Varel grinned, not caring about Aziro’s anger at all.

Aziro took a deep breath.

“Were you written in Caleb’s will? Because I believe Caleb’s children have the claim to this share.” Aziro sneered in his head. Even if he lost the shares, he wouldn’t let them fall into Varel’s hands.

Varel frowned as he cast his eyes at Brynjar.

“Don’t waste your breath, Aziro. By the laws, the descendants who have not reached adulthood yet have no claim to their parents’ possessions if there are other adult relatives in the family who will temporarily hold onto the possessions until they mature.” Brynjar said with a calm tone.

Aziro gritted his teeth. However, the fight only began.

The argument took several hours with a lot of curses thrown out.

In the end, Aziro gave up on keeping the shares. Instead, he took advantage of it to throw the rest of his problems onto Varel.

“Good. Good. Since Varel has the claim to Caleb’s shares, then taking it means also taking responsibility for what happened, am I right?” Aziro sneered.

Varel’s expression froze.

“What do you mean?” This time, he didn’t smile as he frowned.

“Well, it was Caleb’s fault for the failure of action that ended up in the destruction of the arena. If Caleb were here, he would need to pay for it from his pockets. Taking his money means taking the responsibilities of my business partner. I just talked with the Mayor about this.” Aziro said with a triumphal expression.

The Mayor who was mentioned shirked off even more, cursing Aziro for trying to drag him in the mud.

“That’s a big pile of horseshit!” Varel said as he wanted to argue against this. After all, if he did so, then most of the earnings he would get from Caleb’s shares would end up on the repair of the town and the arena itself. It would take years before this deal would generate income.

“Deal.” Brynjar said as he stood up prepared to leave.

“What? This is not what we agreed on.” Varel stood up too and stared at Brynjar.

‘So they really arranged this all.’ Aziro stared expressionlessly at them, waiting to see if they decided to face each other.

But Brynjar just stared back as he said expressionlessly.

“We agreed to get your son’s shares. Now you get them. Nothing else is my responsibility. Don’t push it, Varel. The only reason why I am doing this is for the respect of her. Else, Heart Bearers would never allow a young gang like yours to proliferate in our town like this.”

And with this, he turned around and left.

“Bring out our guest. He seems to be quite unwell.” Aziro said as several robed men appeared. They didn’t attack but tried to guide Varel outside.

“No need.” However, Varel waved his hand, slapping off the robed men as he left with long strides after throwing dirty looks at Aziro.

“Finally over.” After the discussion ended, the happiest person was the one who didn’t even talk during that time. The Mayor just sat down as he stared into nothingness, pondering whether he should just retire...

Sorry for the irregular releases. I was away for a while and didn't have much time. Things should be back on track now.

Also, a shoutout to my sixth patron, 'zombies wolking'! I appreciate your support!