Chapter 26: Gramps’ Lesson
The evening air in Sylmare Forest was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and pine. The fading sunlight cast long shadows through the dense canopy, painting the narrow woodland path in streaks of amber and deep blue. The occasional rustling of leaves and distant chirping of nocturnal creatures filled the silence, making it clear that night was settling in.
"Haa... that rabbit meat is no joke,"
Gramps muttered in satisfaction, tilting a bottle of booze to his lips. The faint slosh of liquid was the only sound between them for a moment. In his other hand, he loosely gripped the katana—Velren's newly acquired blade—its sheathed form was resting against his shoulder with ease, as though it weighed nothing.
Trailing behind him, Velren trudged along with a large wooden box in his arms. The size of the thing nearly rivaled his ten-year-old frame, and each of his step made his arms scream in protest.
Isn't this what they call child abuse?!
"Why is this stash so heavy?" Velren grumbled, adjusting his grip on the box.
Gramps barely spared him a glance.
"Quit your whining. I already got you a gift today and paid for your meal. You expect me to carry everything too?"
Velren stared at him in disbelief.
'Is this old man serious?!'
Gramps merely chuckled and took another swig from his bottle, keeping his pace steady as the forest path stretched ahead of them.