Free Web NovelChapter 910: Chapter 451: The Legendary "That Person" (Part 2)
Before he could finish, the broad palm on his shoulder applied slight pressure, causing the rest of his words to stick in his throat.
Brook gazed into his eyes, slowly but firmly shaking his head.
No way.
"This..."
Cyril’s expression turned somewhat awkward, unsure of how to continue arguing.
At that moment, Brewer silently turned his head, attempting to avoid the other’s gaze.
Rustle, rustle.
Just as the atmosphere between the two men became awkward, the rustling sound among the bushes next to them was followed by a little head poking through the leaves.
A little girl with white cat ears looked at the two of them, her sparkling eyes and a clear smile easing the awkwardness between the two grown men.
The intruding little girl feigned maturity as she coughed once, saying loudly, "Uncle Cyril, don’t get it wrong! My dad doesn’t dislike you, he actually wants to say—this matter has nothing to do with you."
As her words fell, the cold-hearted man still gazing into the distance immediately nodded, exhaling a sigh as his shoulders relaxed.
"Mm hmm."
The stout man with cat ears released the hand on Cyril’s shoulder, somewhat awkwardly scratching his head, offering him an embarrassed but polite dry laugh.
This Guard Captain, not one for words and especially inept at communicating with strangers, nearly suffocated himself trying.
Luckily, his obedient daughter was there to interpret; otherwise, he would’ve been truly embarrassed.
He smiled dotingly, bending down to lift his daughter from the bushes, placing her directly to sit on his left shoulder.
"Ha ha."
On the other side, Cyril’s expression was equally marvelous.
It wasn’t that he felt the misunderstanding was cleared, but that he was deeply confused.
"Wait, what did you just call me? U... Uncle?"
The young man, not yet twenty years old, tilted his head in puzzlement.
Me?
He rubbed his chin in confusion, then touched the liberally growing beard.
Oh, well, the mystery is solved.
In the Dark Territory, he didn’t bother with his image and hadn’t groomed his beard, which had now become bushy, erasing any trace of a young man’s appearance.
If he were given a large hammer, he’d appear just like a Dwarven Blacksmith.
Though Cyril was indeed a Blacksmith by origin, his bloodline seemed to hold a touch of Dwarven blood.
The skinny, petite cat-ear girl sat on her father’s shoulder, listening for a while to her father’s murmuring, then turned to relay to Cyril:
"Dad says, Uncle Cyril, although you’re a powerful Warrior, this is the Beast Ear Clan’s own issue, and we don’t need help from outsiders."
"Furthermore, you’re already injured yourself, so better heal your wounds well instead of getting involved in our affairs."
The girl hugged her father’s head gently, shaking it: "Also... whether the Clan will migrate is not decisively settled yet; it depends on everyone’s decision."
"Although this place isn’t the best, we’ve lived here for a long time, and we don’t want to leave easily."
"The Clan Elder may be called the Wise Man but he’s old; he often says such muddled words... Well, that line was mine, pretend you didn’t hear it!"
The girl’s name was Kathy Beast Ear, although her overly skinny, petite stature seemed only about seven or eight years old, she was actually fifteen and not an ignorant child.
As one of the very few within the clan who had received a systematic education, Kathy wasn’t as naive as she appeared.
She quietly watched Cyril’s conflicted expression, whispering, "Uncle Cyril, you shouldn’t feel indebted to us; my dad saved you not to get any repayment from you."
"Your willingness to help the Clan hunt is already sufficient repayment, you don’t have to do more."
Cyril was silent, then resolutely shook his head.
"Maybe you think it’s enough this way, but I can’t naively think so; it conflicts with my beliefs."
He won’t accept this outcome.
His dignity cannot allow him to leave his benefactors to die without helping!
If that esteemed person knew he retreated at this moment, surely they would rebuke him.
When Brook and his daughter saw Cyril express himself thus, they exchanged a glance, both shaking their heads helplessly.
"Uncle, don’t you understand? We’re rejecting you!"
"I know, but..."
"There’s no ’but’... Sigh! Let me speak plainly then."
The girl, seeing Cyril’s serious demeanor, sighed softly and then altered her expression, her tone slightly cold as she said:
"We don’t need your help, and this isn’t out of stubbornness."
"Even if we were to wander again... do you think we’d fear it? How long do you think we, the cursed ones, have been wandering?"
"Do you want to help us? For gratitude? Or is it out of mercy?"
"If it’s about repaying kindness, we’ve stated, there’s no need for your repayment, but if you insist, then shut your mouth and do what you must."
"And if, due to mercy, you wish to become the clan’s savior, then I advise you to reconsider."
The cat-ear girl’s face bore a faint sneer, not directed at Cyril, but towards themselves.
Towards the cursed fate they bore.
"How many times do you think we, the cursed ones, have had hopes and been disappointed?"
"During these long years, do you think you were the only one willing to extend a hand to us?"
"No."
"We’ve been deceived countless times, robbed of hope countless times!"
"Can you guarantee that you are the one who can truly save us?"
The girl calmly looked at the Paladin with his lips tightly pursed; after a moment, she shook her head, indifferently sighed, and said softly:
"Clearly, you aren’t that person."
The original High Priest of the Beast Ear Clan once left behind a prophecy—they would eventually be saved by a hero beyond fate, ending the long wandering journey.
As for Cyril, the one being groomed as the next High Priest, she didn’t sense any semblance of destiny, much less someone special beyond fate.
This injured Warrior, though upright and possessing commendable qualities, was not favored by destiny.
Perhaps in the future, he might become a powerful Warrior, capable of providing strength to assist them, but he wasn’t enough to counter their misfortune.
"Uncle, don’t persist."
"There are already numerous examples proving that getting close to us might lead to being abandoned by fate."
"So..."
Seeming to have concluded the serious discussion, Kathy’s demeanor returned to a whimsical stance, cheerfully saying, "Uncle, you’re so weak, better not keep trying."
The girl’s "naive" yet blunt words made Cyril’s lips twitch.
The reasoning holds, the facts are also true, but hey, could you express it more tactfully?
The truth is kind of wounding.
"Moreover, my dad and I don’t want to see you sacrifice in vain, but the others in the Clan might not think the same."
The girl appreciated Cyril’s awkward expression, mischievously saying, "You gotta be more careful."
"Alright, everything’s been said, you better leave early; otherwise, when the others find you, it’ll be hard to go."
Kathy waved to Cyril, indicating her father to take her away.
But, after their mother passed, the father who usually obeyed her this time didn’t cooperate, quietly standing in place, admiring the scene ahead.
Huh?
The girl blinked in surprise, then heard the uncle’s reply from behind.
"No, Miss Kathy, I won’t leave."
Turning around, she saw Uncle Cyril kneeling on one knee, his face calm yet resolutely saying, "Though I’m weak, as a Paladin, I won’t abandon you before repaying this life-saving grace."
"Additionally, while I can’t actually help your clan, I know of an esteemed person who... may hold such qualification."
At this moment, though Cyril lacked evidence, his belief was unwavering.
Not due to himself, but from trust in that esteemed person.
He said:
"Lord Herbert will surely save you!"
.
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