Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 224: One hundred and sixty-six: Crossroads (1)

Chapter 224: One hundred and sixty-six: Crossroads (1)

Malin was about to leave when he saw his father walking into the training ground.

"Father," Maya greeted him immediately. The little Leopard Girl happily shared her joyful daily life with her father, especially emphasizing her recent progress.

As an old father, Gaiate patted Maya’s head, then turned to look at Malin, "I have to leave again, child."

"Where are you going?" Malin walked over.

To be honest, he didn’t want this middle-aged man to travel far, as he was already fifty years old. In an era where the average lifespan was sixty, Malin considered him quite old.

As his son, Malin didn’t know Gaiate’s Sequence, nor his tier, but seeing his aged appearance, it was unlikely he held a high position.

"The Eastern Kingdom, Malin, my son, I must entrust Maya to you again." Gaiate stretched out his hand, intending to pat Malin’s head, but Malin brushed his hand away.

"Two weeks ago you told me you were fifty, at this age, as a pureblood human, you’ve reached the age of knowing destiny. Can’t you live a few good days at home, stop going out, and spare Maya the constant worry? She is your daughter; don’t be an old man who causes her to constantly fret, okay?"

Gaiate was startled, then burst into laughter.

Malin frowned, "Gaiate, what are you laughing at?"

"Let’s have a fight, my son," said the Demon Hunter as he reached back, a guard tossed him a sword, and the old man with graying beard and hair unsheathed it on his back, his high-tier demeanor spreading unreservedly: "Sometimes, the ’Truth’ can also lead you into a fallacy of thought, my son. I don’t blame you for worrying about me, but as a father, I must let my son ascertain whether he is standing before a dying old man or an old dog with a mouthful of sharp teeth."

Watching the old man step toward the training ground first, Malin, about to follow, purposely asked Lady Karlmo, "Madam, is it really Tuesday today?"

"Of course, my dear, speaking of which, the linen shirt you’re wearing today really suits you. Who picked out your clothes?" Lady Karlmo’s seemingly irrelevant response and question caught Malin off guard. Glancing at the crowds around the training ground, Malin smiled sheepishly, "Maya did."

"I knew it, you siblings are so close," Lady Karlmo said with a smile, nodding her head, then she handed Malin a training sword, "Come on, my dear. A boy will someday surpass his father, and I think today is a good day for you."

Malin shook his head with a smile. In the palm of his hand, two World Tree saplings transformed into a pair of single-edged swords, then combined in front of Malin into a hand-and-a-half sword.

As a son, Malin never thought he could surpass his father. Perhaps one day, he could achieve a fame greater than Gaiate’s or possess strength stronger than his, but that wouldn’t mean he had surpassed his father. It was simply that sons eventually grow up, while fathers grow old.

Guan Yu fighting Qin Qiong is always a false proposition.

.........

"I still remember over thirty years ago, Gaiate stood there while we stood here, watching his first trial against Semya’s eldest brother," said old Hoffman, who stood outside the arena. He watched the scene before him, reminiscing, feeling nostalgic, and heaving sighs.

His old friends sat beside him, some reminiscing, others sighing, and still others pondering.

"Time flies so fast," Marian said.

"Where’s Charles?" Hoffman looked at him.

"There’s something in the North; they need him," Marian replied, patting his knee, "This knee of mine isn’t suited for the weather up North."

"We’ve all grown old, even the children of Semya’s eldest brother have gray hair," the elderly lady sitting beside Marian sighed.

This elicited a mix of sighs and nostalgia from old Hoffman, but more than that, anticipation.

Standing before Gaiate was his proudest Apprentice, the last in rank among the children he had taught, but also the youngest with the best talent.

.........

Gaiate was somewhat dazed, the Demon Hunter idly drew a steel sword from the rack, today’s scene reminiscent of one from many years past.

Back then, he was but a child, holding a practice sword, standing right where he was now faced.

In a blink of an over-thirty-year span, the boy had become a man, embarking on the path towards old age.

Faster, steadier, more urgent.

Just as his own father had told him back then.

Just like the child said, if he could, he would love to live out his days in Carterburg, but... as the sole heir to the Truth Sequence, bearer of a tier-one Truth, he had been seeking the truth behind his lover’s death for decades.

If he gave up, the Truth Sequence would decay and the path of tiers would collapse.

"Father, shall we begin?" the child before him asked, pulling Gaiate from the downy bed of memory. He blinked, nodding, "Come, child."

So, the Longsword thrust at him, plain and unadorned, yet extremely fast. Knowing his foster son was known for strength, Gaiate held the sword in one hand and swung it forcefully against the thrusting Longsword, nearly disarming him upon contact.

What monstrous strength!

The next second, dodging the direct thrust and stepping back two paces, Gaiate gripped the sword with both hands. This time, he managed to block the thrust-turned-horizontal slice of the sapling.

On instinct, he tried to retreat the Longsword, but then an elbow strike from his foster son forced Gaiate to block the blow with the counterweight of his training sword.

Before Gaiate could consider whether his elbow strike might hurt the child, it shattered the balance weight within the sword hilt into pieces.

The sound of metal clashing forced Gaiate to sidestep the elbow aimed at his belly—his son had donned metal elbow pads.

No longer underestimating his opponent, Gaiate cast aside his broken training sword and drew from his back sheath his meteorite-forged longsword, adopting the Sydney Union’s military sword starting stance with the sword’s tip leveled.

"Father, please be cautious," his adopted son said with a smile before charging at him.

Gaiate first deflected the thrusting longsword. He wanted to counter-attack, but his adopted son glided to his left side, then with a clever turn, dodged his kick. With the force of the rotation, the sword made of World Tree Sapling was held aloft and directly slashed towards his father’s waist.

Without hesitation, Gaiate turned his body, using his dominant side to face the offensive, with his left hand supporting the tip of his sword, blocking the heavy horizontal slash with the meteorite longsword in his hand.

The balance weight of the meteorite sword let out a mournful screech as Gaiate watched it deform. Made of demonized steel, it couldn’t withstand the combination of the World Tree Sapling and the heavy force. Before it shattered, Gaiate let go of the meteorite sword and had to step back three paces—as his son landed, he once again slid agilely to the left and aimed his leveled longsword at Gaiate once more.

Is this the child of a Frost Giant? Even an elf child trained as a Sword Dancer from the womb could hardly do better.

With such an exclamation in mind, Gaiate stepped down from the training platform.

He could refuse to admit defeat, but that would mean drawing his other sword—Truth. However, his adopted son was only fourteen, and Gaiate really didn’t want to turn a test into a lifelong regret for either of them.

If it was his own regret, he might not even have the chance to eat the fried rice specially made by Maya.

That won’t do; Gaiate was still looking forward to enjoying his daughter’s fried rice one last time before he died.

"I’m past the age for rivalry," Gaiate said, taking the towel his daughter handed him and wiping the blood from his face where the shards from meteorite sword had cut him. He then sat down to receive treatment from the Church’s doctor.

"Father, are you alright?" His adopted son sheathed the World Tree Sapling and jumped down from the training field, running to his side.

"I’m fine, I’m not so old that a small cut on the face could kill me from infection," Gaiate said with a smile, patting the lad’s shoulder: "Well done, you’re much tougher than I was at your age."

"It’s all thanks to the instructors," his adopted son said with a smile.

Gaiate could see the smiling faces of the training instructors and the Punishers at the edge of the field.

It looks like his adopted son was better at being likeable than he had been as a father.

Clever little rascal, you’ve done well.

Looking at his adopted son, Gaiate grew more and more pleased—this boy knew how to conduct himself, was strong, and compassionate. Gaiate felt at ease thinking about Maya in his care.

.........

"Gaiate, how well have us old bones taught him?"

By the time Gaiate reached the tower and sat in Hoffman’s office, Marian immediately greeted him.

"Very well, thank you all, uncles and aunts," Gaiate said, nodding to his elders in the room: "Old... Hoffman."

Hoffman, who was accustomed to being called ’old man’, widened his eyes: "What?"

"Malin has become so strong, it’s all thanks to you," Gaiate rarely gave compliments, as his Transcendent Sequence influenced him.

As the holder of the Legendary Sequence: Truth, Gaiate couldn’t gain extra lifespan from advancing through the ranks, a side effect brought about by the Truth Sequence which also caused its possessor to age at a normal rate.

"What nonsense are you talking about? You didn’t see how hard that boy works. He’s up at five in the morning to start his day’s training. Compared to him, you were more like a mischievous scoundrel when you were young," Hoffman retorted with a laugh: "Also, are you really going away again, Gaiate? Malin wasn’t wrong; you are old."

"I know, Hoffman, I’ve found a new lead. I want to head east to look for information... My time is running out," Gaiate lowered his head: "I’m sorry for not being an attentive father."

"...Don’t talk like that. You were able to give Malin a rite of passage before leaving; we all understand your intentions," Marian stood up, walked over to Gaiate, and grabbed his nephew’s hand.

"Tell me, will you return?"

"I will."

In response to the question, Gaiate raised his head, somber and earnest: "If I don’t return, Malin will be the next head of the Gaiate family, and if he wishes, he will be the next Truth..." He paused, laughing and shaking his head: "I believe he wouldn’t want that. As a descendant of the Silver Folk, whether climbing the ranks or increasing his level, he stands to benefit greatly, and to become Truth, I can’t imagine it."

"Don’t make it sound like you’re leaving a will, you scallywag," Marian chided, shaking his head: "By average standards, you’ve got at least ten more years, lad."

"Yes, we’ll all be waiting for you to come back. Besides, if you see the scale of the business Malin has been handling recently, don’t you let the kid down by leaving such a huge enterprise and taking Maya to the Eastern Kingdom to find you," Ollie said to Gaiate.

"...I will return alive," Gaiate concluded the conversation: "I must leave now, everyone, farewell."

Watching his junior depart, old Hoffman leaned back in his chair.

His old friends also stood up to leave, and before she left, Ollie gave a gentle kiss on this old man’s forehead: "Hoffman, I still remember when you were a dashing young man."

Old Hoffman chuckled, and long after she had gone, a sigh resonated through the room.