“I would like to thank you personally for saving Charlie,” the man said.

He was older, in his sixties or so, and spoke clearly and calmly. He was normal enough, slightly handsome, with white hair which had been swept to one side, and a small beard which had grown over the course of a month. He wore thick clothing, and there was nothing particular about him Adam could gather.

“Yeah, no problem,” Adam replied, simply. “I happened to have a spare diamond on hand.”

The older man stared down at the Half Elf. “Which Half Elf family are you from?”

“None of them,” Adam replied. “Though, how do you know them?”

The old man’s eyes remained staring deep into Adam’s eyes.

Adam had heard that someone had wanted to meet him in the morning, so after his bath and breakfast, he hung around at the Guild before he was taken to the side. He sipped some of the peach tea which he had brewed, and the old man sipped the tea Adam had poured him.

“Poor kid,” Adam said, noting that the old man wasn’t going to reply to him. “His grandfather’s probably dead. Taken by Gryphons. We killed one, mostly because it killed the kid. Apparently, the previous King’s Sword outlawed it.” Adam shook his head. “Luckily, the Guild said they’d smooth things over, though it’s not like it matters much. I doubt Sir Merry has much time to come after little ol’ us when he’s having fun in Ever green.”

‘Sir Merry?’ The old man continued to stare down at Adam, noting a few features which betrayed Adam’s closeness to the Iyr, other than the shiny puthral armour. ‘Is he trying to…’ It was after a moment that he understood that Adam had no idea. “Are you not afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The previous King’s Sword, Sir Merry.”

“Why would I be afraid of him?” Adam asked. “I stared down a Great Elder who wanted to kill me, and considering they’re about even in strength, it should be fine.”

The old man blinked.

“Besides, I don’t think he’s that type of guy. If he’s a terrible guy, then I’ll just hide in the Iyr. What’s he going to do? Come to the Iyr to take me away? I’ll just get married to… someone.” Adam thought about all the Iyrmen who would want to marry him.

“Oh, well… I guess I don’t need to hide, since I wasn’t the one to kill it. Jurot and Lucy did, so I guess he’ll get sent home to live out his days in a place that’s much nicer than even Ever Green, and Lucy will, well, I’m sure she won’t be sad since she’ll be surrounded by hunks.” Adam laughed.

The old man blinked again.

“Anyway, if that old man wants to act up, I’ll handle him.” Adam nodded his head confidently. After all, there was no way the previous King’s Sword wouldn’t be interested in him once he revealed some of his secrets.

The old man held in his laughter, clenching his knee. “What is your name, young man?”

“Adam,” he replied. “Son of Fate.”

“You’re Adam?” he asked, before noting Adam’s appearance. ‘I wondered why he seemed familiar.’

“You’ve heard of me?” Adam asked, smiling at the old man. “My reputation precedes me.” His smile quickly faded, recalling the Crowseer’s warning. ‘Damn it.’

“Sir Royce spoke to me about a young man who was quite close with the Iyrmen, filled with youthful spirit,” the old man said.

“Sir Royce?” Adam said, trying to recall who that was.

“You suckered him in to owe you a favour.”

“Oh! The Knight of Death, right?” Adam smiled, recalling the memory. “Yeah, he tried to attack me, and so I made him owe me a favour. I was really scared, you know? I wasn’t an Expert back then, so I couldn’t defend myself. Lucky for me I had a few Iyrmen about, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to save Charlie.”

“Yes, I have heard.”

“How do you know him?” Adam asked.

He heard a small gasp from behind him, before looking to see Jurot, who had stepped into the room after taking his bath. He had heard there was someone waiting to meet with him. His eyes were wide as he stared at the man.

Adam turned back to look at the old man, who looked like any old man he had seen before. No, not like any old man. ‘He’s pretty well built…’

“You’re Sir Merry, aren’t you?” Adam said.

“You didn’t know?” Sir Merry asked.

“No,” Adam replied. “I didn’t.”

Adam stared at the old man for a long while. He didn’t have any weapons or armour on him, meaning if there was a fight, he had a chance. He had quite the few spells prepared, just in case he did need to fight.

“We’re not going to have a problem about the Gryphon, are we?” Adam asked.

“No,” he said, standing.

“It is an honour to meet you,” Jurot said, shaking the man’s forearm.

“Is it an honour to meet an old man like me?” Harold asked.

“You are the previous King’s Sword,” Jurot said. “They say you were the strongest King’s Sword.”

Sir Harold slowly nodded. “That’s in the past. I’m just a retired old man now, one who wishes to live his life peacefully.”

Jurot stared up at him, wondering what he was talking about considering the man’s recent activities.

“Would you be willing to accept the hospitality of our village?” Harold asked. “Since you have helped one of ours, I must reward you.”

“Well…” Adam looked to Jurot, whose eyes were full of glee, staring deep into his party leader’s eyes. “Sure.”

The group gathered their items, including the rest of his party, and the others who had accompanied him.

Lucy stared at Harold blankly, but Adam could see a little drool from the corner of her lips. She was currently eating a fine meal as she ogled the man.

‘She’s such a weirdo,’ Adam thought.

As they walked around to the back of the Guild, they came face to face with a large number of Gryphons, each of whom were lazing around.

Adam blinked. ‘What the hell?’

“Please, pick a Gryphon,” he said, motioning to the fine creatures.

Adam approached one of the lazing Gryphons, which raised their head towards him. It squawked at him, but quickly fell silent under Harold’s gaze.

“It doesn’t seem to like me,” he said.

“Only half of you,” Sir Harold said, climbing onto his Gryphon, which was larger than the rest, and pure black, like it was carved out of onyx.

Adam climbed onto the Gryphon, which was saddled, and he tied the straps around himself, which connected him to the creature, before grabbing the reins.

Harold whistled, and the Gryphons shook slightly, testing their rider’s straps, all the while the old man threw a quick look around them to see that they were fine, before his Gryphon rushed forward, its wings shooting to the side as it flew upwards.

Adam bounced slightly on the Gryphon as it rushed forward before it leapt into the air. He forced himself forward as the creature carried him, with all of his gear, and his armour too, with ease.

‘Just how strong are they?’ he wondered as they flew upwards, the wind rushing all around him.

They could hear screaming from behind, but it wasn’t the screaming of fear, but delight.

“Yeah!” Lucy shouted. “That’s what I’m talking about!” She laughed wildly before a bug entered her mouth and she choked, coughing it out before she fell silent from then on.

The Gryphons required frequent breaks, twice to thrice an hour, but otherwise made great pace. They approached the village within a few short hours, revealing a walled off village with not much notable about it, save for how it was spacious and green, like Ever Green.

It wasn’t quite without note.

Adam whistled, looking about to all the Iyrmen. There were hundreds of them, many of whom were assisting the village with their strength.

“Did you enjoy the flight?” Harold asked, hoisting himself off the Gryphon with the swiftness of a younger man.

“It’s no Dragon,” Adam said, catching a few glances from the others who hadn’t heard his tale.

“Yes,” Harold replied. “It isn’t.”

Fred dropped down to a bush and vomited into it.

“I didn’t expect to see so many Iyrmen,” Adam admitted, glancing about to see no familiar faces among them.

“They’re here for fun,” Harold said, stifling a sigh.

“This place is great,” Lucy said, oggling the Iyrmen and Sir Merry. Most of the Iyrmen here were strong, at least Experts, some even greater, and most were quite elderly too. “The best!”

Adam squinted his eyes at her. “Hey, stop embarrassing us in front of Sir Merry,” he whispered to her, but she was already gone, making her way to the nearby Iyrmen to speak with them and to invite herself to enjoying their muscles.

“How come you’re both Sir Harold and Sir Merry,” Adam said, looking to the man.

Harold sighed. “I am Sir Harold Merryweather.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Adam said, joking.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. ‘Maybe it’s not Lucy embarrassing us.’

“When I clashed with an Iyrmen many years ago, they asked what I preferred to be called. I joked that I wished to be called Sir Merry.”

“Oh?” Adam said. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”