Love at the Wrong Table
Chapter 2297 Youth Reclaimed!
+8 Pearls
“Truth is formless, without name or shape; without scripture, it cannot be understood. It lies within wisdom, deep and profound; to seek truth is to purify the soul and find grace. But why do we wander through life without knowing the path?
Life is a stage, where laughter and tears intertwine. Life is a dream, shaped by cause and consequence. Only by understanding the truth can one transcend. Time flows like a river; clinging to the past is a burden. Though the years pass swiftly, our attachments remain…
Let go of what binds you, and you shall find peace. May peace be with you, and may grace guide your way…”
Zen Master, witnessing Aora’s tragic state, could not help but recite the scripture aloud, hoping to ease the man’s violent spirit.
“Let go of what binds you, and you shall find peace. May peace be with you, and may grace guide your way…”
Master Dalton, Master Dhyana, and all the friars of the Chapel of Oros joined in the chant.
For a moment, a hushed silence fell over the peak of Divine Mountain. Even those who had despised Aora- Aurora and others–couldn’t help but sigh at the scene before them.
Mackenzie understood her husband well. That idiot must be moved by Aora’s unwavering loyalty to Teddy–that’s why he hasn’t delivered the fatal blow.
No matter how unforgivable the enemy, a man who lived and died by loyalty and brotherhood deserved at least a measure of respect.
Pfft!
Finally, Aora collapsed to the ground, his lips still murmuring faintly. “I… I must kill you… Emmanuel… I must kill you…”
Blood poured from his ruptured veins like a stream, staining the ground in a horrifying pool of red.
Tears blurred Aora’s vision as he felt his body drift upward into a world of endless white.
“Mr. Tanner, though I’m dying, I will fulfill your wish! May the great future unfold as you envisioned…
“Forgive me, sir–I’m coming to you! Mr. Verkade will avenge us and realize the dream you could not…
“I’ve failed you, sir–punish me! Ahhhhh!
“Amethyst… Azure…
“Amethyst… Ash…
“Amethyst… Amethyst… Mr. Tanner…”
At last, Aora’s voice faded into a whisper of “Amethyst… Mr. Tanner…” as his eyes slowly closed, unwilling to surrender to death but powerless to resist it.
Even in his final moment, as blood pooled beneath him in a dark crimson stain, Aora’s hand clutched weakly at Emmanuel’s leg, but his strength had long since left him.
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Chapter 2297 Youth Reclaimed!
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Mackenzie sighed quietly to herself. Though Teddy is dead, there is no denying his personal charisma–otherwise, so many people wouldn’t have followed him to their deaths, unwavering until the very end.
Emmanuel stepped aside, shaking off Aora’s hand as he approached Ethan and said, “Mr. Hale, Zovince is stirring. Cancel the prayer ceremony and allow me to escort you to Congress immediately.”
Ethan, hearing the urgency in Emmanuel’s tone, quickly grasped the gravity of the situation.
Yet, before he could respond, Gautier shouted from amidst the crowd, “Emmanuel Lowe, you murderous demon! How many lives have you taken? We, the righteous defenders of justice, will not let you leave Divine Mountain alive!”
Emmanuel turned to face him.
Gautier stood safely at the back of the crowd, a smug smile curling his lips. His sly eyes gleamed with the unmistakable glint of a man hiding another layer of treachery.
Meanwhile, deep within the forest behind the Chapel of Oros, Santiago deftly evaded Yorick’s Savage Tiger Strike, causing the punch to crash into the earth with the force of a raging flood, uprooting an entire grove of trees.
Two sage–level warriors–every strike and step they took could tear through forests and reshape the very land beneath their feet.
“Are you two brutes trying to tear this place apart?”
A woman’s voice rang out from the bamboo grove, bringing both men to an abrupt halt as they instinctively looked around for its source.
Though they knew it couldn’t possibly be the goddess they both longed for, they still searched the dappled canopy of leaves, hearts foolishly hoping to glimpse her one last time.
To their surprise, a graceful silhouette truly appeared atop the swaying grove. She seemed to sit there effortlessly, one hand gently stroking the strings of a lute, her enchanting eyes gazing directly at them.
She’s looking at me, Yorick thought. Not at that unkempt brute who reeks of liquor!
She’s smiling at me, Santiago told himself. Not at that boorish loner who can’t appreciate a woman’s smile.
But the moment the woman spoke again, their fragile world of fantasies came crashing down.
“Santiago, Yorick–if you two are determined to fight, do it properly. I’ve prepared an arena just for you. Go ahead–fight to your heart’s content!”
Reality came rushing back. Santiago and Yorick snapped out of their daze. This wasn’t the woman they longed for. Heartbreakingly, Jane had long since passed away. No matter how much this woman resembled her, she was not her.
She was her younger sister–Isabella.
Sitting high among the trees, Isabella began to play her lute. Her illusions were formidable, though her musical skills fell short of the legendary Music Saint. Yet both Saints of Silver Dragon and Savage Tiger willingly allowed themselves to fall into the world her music conjured.
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In that illusory world, Santiago found himself back at the age of 24.
* Pearls
Born with both a talent for martial arts and an iron stomach for alcohol, he had been the unrivaled martial prodigy of his generation within his sect–until his love for drinking caused him to miss an important sect event. His master had cast him out resolutely.
Now, he had just begun his journey in the outside world.
At that time, all of Chanaca basked in the glory of a victorious war.
The legendary war god, Lucian Lowe, had single–handedly slain ten sage–level warriors on the battlefield- not only safeguarding Chanaca’s borders but also shaking the global power structure. Both the world’s political stage and martial world had entered a period of upheaval
For his unparalleled achievements, the president had bestowed upon him the title Lucian, the Dawnbringer. Instantly, Lucian became a figure revered by millions worldwide.
Inspired by Lucian’s legend, Santiago, too, aspired to become a great hero,
Meanwhile, Yorick found himself back at the age of twenty–two and a half.
Born into a family renowned for their martial prowess but hopeless with money, he’d faced hardship from an early age. His father had vanished without a trace, and his family struggled to make ends meet.
With a newborn baby sister in fragile health, Yorick had left home early to work as a bodyguard, hoping to send money back home. But his straightforward nature and refusal to compromise meant his earnings were
meager.
One night, after being scolded harshly by his single mother for failing to provide enough, Yorick found himself sitting alone in a tavern, drinking away his frustrations.
“Hey, a man shouldn’t spend his days sighing like that!”
A burly stranger approached and sat across from him, casually pouring himself a drink as if they were old friends.
Before long, the two began drinking together.
Yorick prided himself on his drinking ability–he could down bowl after bowl of wine without faltering. But this stranger didn’t even bother with bowls–he drank straight from entire liquor jars, one after another, as if it were water.
By the time they had emptied 66 jars between them, Yorick finally raised his hands in defeat.
“I give up. You’re the first person who’s ever out–drunk me!”
“Hahaha! Drinking’s supposed to be fun, right? Drowns out all your worries!” the man laughed, though inwardly, he respected Yorick’s internal strength–he could tell the younger man had been relying on pure endurance, while Santiago himself had the technique to channel alcohol into internal energy.
“Drinking just makes my worries worse… And now I have to pay for all this…” Yorick muttered with a sigh.
Without hesitation, the man dumped all the money he had–along with the accessories he wore―onto the
table.
“A real man shouldn’t let money weigh him down. Take it. If that’s not enough, we’ll meet again someday,
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and I’ll give you more!”
Yorick was deeply moved by the man’s generosity and carefree spirit.
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Though he usually preferred solitude, he couldn’t help but call out to the man as he turned to leave. “What’s
your name?”
“The name’s Santiago Adkins. See you around!” Santiago waved without looking back, ready to disappear into the night.
“I’m Yorick. I work as a bodyguard for Atticus–Mr. Sheffield–Grey. I swear I’ll pay you back!” Yorick shouted after him. But Santiago only waved again without turning his head, clearly having no intention of ever collecting that debt.
At the time, both men thought their meeting was a fleeting encounter, destined never to repeat. Neither could have imagined that fate would bring them together again just six months later–this time, at a grand martial arts tournament.
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