Chapter 7- Old Friends

After Max was kicked out of his dorm room, he wandered through the forest. As night fell, the air suddenly became chilly, prompting Max to consider spending the night at Uncle Joe's after a brief stroll. Delving deeper into the woods, Max sensed a presence trailing behind him. Reacting swiftly to a dagger that was mysteriously hurled at him from the back, he dodged, only to find himself facing a masked man, slightly shorter than him. The dim light of the night obscured the man's features, shrouding him in mystery. Max hurled back the dagger at the figure, but it dodged, beginning his relentless charge, resorting to fists.

Max easily dodged each blow, though he refrained from retaliating. Frustrated, the masked figure channeled mana, seeking to boost his powers. With renewed vigor, he unleashed a flurry of attacks, yet none found their mark against Max's agile defense. Undeterred, the figure persisted, escalating the assault in a desperate bid for victory. Max, unfazed, provoked his opponent, taunting, "Is that the best you can do?"

As the relentless onslaught persisted for hours, Max maintained his elusive dance, evading each strike with a grin. Exhaustion eventually overtook the masked man, who collapsed, defeated. Max delivered a decisive blow to his nose, rendering him unconscious.

Turning to the forest's edge, Max addressed another figure emerging from the shadows. Clad in regal attire, with flowing white hair gleaming in the moonlight, Vernon stepped forward. His eyes, as golden as the sun, bore into Max.

Max greeted him with a smirk. "Long time no see, Vernon."

Vernon's response was measured, filled with subtle disappointment. "It seems you've improved, Max. But I expected more—a glimpse of your true power."

Max's grin widened. "You'll have to do better than that, Doc. Much better. Well then, I must be off. Until next time.

With a knowing smile, Vernon turned towards the mysterious figure. With a swift motion, he reached out and removed the mask, revealing the true identity of the assailant to be none other than Louis.

As Max departs, Vernon turns his attention to Louis, checking him over for any injuries.

Louis: "I'm alright, doc. Just a broken nose."

Vernon (with a knowing smile): "A broken nose can lead to complications if left untreated, young one."

Louis (grinning): "But, you should've seen Max! He's really something. Even with just one punch, I could feel his strength."

As Vernon tends to Louis's broken nose, the young boy continues to express his admiration for Max's prowess. Vernon nods, understanding Louis's eagerness to face Max again. After healing Louis's nose, Vernon rises to his feet.

Vernon: Well then, shall we?

Louis (confused): Shall we what?

Vernon (smiling): We wouldn't want to keep the principal waiting, would we?

With a gentle reminder, Vernon leads Louis away, setting their sights on their next destination.

Meanwhile, Max finally arrives at the tavern and confides in Uncle Joe about the incident in his dorm room.

Uncle Joe: That's not good, Max. You can't just go touching women like that, no matter the circumstance.

Max: I know, Uncle Joe. It was a mistake.

Uncle Joe: Did you at least apologize?

Max (sighing): I didn't get the chance. I was kicked out before I could explain.

Uncle Joe: Well, coming to me was a smart move, Max.

Max: Thanks, Uncle Joe.

Uncle Joe: Let me tell you, Max, earning a woman's forgiveness isn't easy. Take it from a man who's been there.

Max: So, what should I do?

Uncle Joe (with a mischievous grin): Ah, now that's where I come in. I've got a master plan for you. Follow it, and she'll forgive you faster than you can say 'sorry'.

As Uncle Joe and Max continue their conversation, memories of the past stir within Uncle Joe's mind, prompting him to reflect on his late wife.

Uncle Joe: "You know, Max, she was just like you. Headstrong, always diving headfirst into action."

His tone shifts suddenly, the weight of regret heavy in his voice.

Uncle Joe: "If only I had stopped her..."

The room falls silent, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of Uncle Joe's sorrow. Sensing the somber mood, Uncle Joe forces a smile, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

Uncle Joe: But enough of that gloomy talk. We've got better things to focus on. You should head off to bed now, Max. Tomorrow's a new day.

As Max ascends the stairs, I find myself lost in a dream. Thoughts of my beloved wife flood my mind, mingling with memories of my eldest son and the sudden changes that reshaped our lives after her death. Yet, amidst the recollections, there's a gentle warmth in my heart. Though she may no longer walk beside me, her spirit remains etched within my soul, an eternal presence that soothes and guides me.

In this moment of quiet contemplation, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Assisting Max on his journey fills me with a profound sense of purpose, knowing that I've played a part in shaping his path. It's a gratifying realization, one that stirs within me a newfound sense of contentment and fulfillment.

But as I reflect further, a shiver runs down my spine. I realize with a pang of sobering clarity that without Max's arrival in my life, I might have succumbed to the darkness that threatened to consume me. His presence, his youthful energy, and his unwavering determination have been a beacon of light in my darkest moments, guiding me back from the brink.

As I linger with my thoughts, a serene smile graces my lips. I embrace the memories of the past even as I eagerly anticipate the unfolding of the future, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of new beginnings. And I am grateful, deeply and profoundly grateful, for the unexpected gift of Max's presence in my life.

I then sense a familiar presence lurking outside, I cautiously step into the night air, my sword gripped tightly in my hand. As I emerge, I find myself surrounded by shadowy figures, their forms cloaked in black. Without hesitation, they launch their attack, but their efforts are futile against my seasoned skill. In moments, the threat is neutralized.

But then, amidst the dissipating tension, a figure approaches, clapping mockingly.

Man (clapping): Well, well, old man. It seems you haven't lost your touch.

My heart sinks as recognition dawns. It can't be... Luke.

Uncle Joe (shocked): Why are you here... Luke?

Luke (smirking): I don't go by that name anymore. And I'm not here for you; I need the boy.

In a surge of anger and protectiveness, I raise my sword, pointing it directly at Luke.

Uncle Joe (angrily): Over my dead body. You've already torn our family apart once. I won't let it happen again.

Luke (maintaining his smile, though slightly irritated): Your wish, old man. I'll be back for the boy.

With a swift departure, Luke vanishes into the darkness, leaving me reeling with shock and apprehension. As the adrenaline subsides, I feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on me. Collapsing to the ground, I struggle to maintain consciousness, my body racked with coughs that bring forth blood. Summoning my last reserves of strength, I stagger back into the tavern, pouring a drink with trembling hands. The glass is soon replaced by the entire bottle, as I seek solace in alcohol amidst the chaos of my thoughts.