Wrong time

As the old man stood there, his mind lost in deep contemplation, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by a chilling voice that cut through the air like a knife. "You picked the wrong time to plan your future, old thing."

Startled, the old man's eyes widened as he beheld the sudden appearance of two swords—one ebony-black and the other gleaming silver. They materialized out of the shadows with an otherworldly presence, one menacingly poised in front of him, the other ominously at the back of his neck. The sight sent a shiver down his spine, his heart skipping a beat in terror.

His body was already weary from battle, marked with wounds and drained of its vital energy. Now, faced with this new threat, his senses heightened in fear and desperation.