The inside of the house was gloomy as Alexander prepared to go out in search of soone to care for the child. Suddenly, he heard a dry cough coming from one of the rooms.
Then, a hazy voice called out, "Kael, where are you? What happened? Tell ."
Alexander stopped in his tracks and looked back. There was a small hallway with at least two rooms, and the voice ca from behind the left door.
Alexander walked toward it, and as he slowly pushed the door open, he saw a worn-out bed with a tattered quilt. On the bed lay an old man who imdiately caught his attention.
The old man's face was gaunt and malnourished, his expression pale as though he was on the brink of death, reacting to the sound of the creaking door.
He struggled to open his eyelids, and when he did, he saw a man wrapped in a green quilt, holding his unconscious grandson, Kael, in his arms.
His eyes turned red as he gritted his teeth, enduring the pain with sheer will. "What... did you do to... my grandson?" the old man bellowed loudly.
However, as he struggled to lift his upper body and sit up in bed, he stopped midway, feeling all his strength begin to wane.
Alexander hurriedly stopped the old man, realizing that he was harming himself by doing this. If he truly died, it would be a aningless death caused by a simple misunderstanding.
"Old man, calm down. I'm a friend. The injuries you're seeing right now were not caused by but by the beast that was about to devour him. It has already been taken care of, so there's nothing for you to worry about," Alexander explained.
Hearing this, the old man's mind, clouded with rage, began to settle. His upper body slumped back onto the bed, sweat pouring down his face.
His breathing was labored and heavy, carrying hot air, as his eyes grew hazy and misty.
Shifting his head slightly, he looked at the mysterious man and noticed that he showed no signs of ill intent.
"Thank you very much for saving my grandson, and I deeply apologize for misunderstanding your goodwill. If only I could stand, I would kneel before you to express my gratitude," the old man said, his lips trembling with emotion.
Alexander could see the gratitude in the old man's eyes. So, he shook his hand and responded, "There's no need for that, Uncle. You're an elder, kneeling to a young man wouldn't be appropriate for your dignity."
The old man offered a faint, broken smile. Shifting his gaze toward his grandson in the mysterious man's arms, he then glanced back at Alexander.
"Young man... can I ask you a favor?" the old man said, closing his eyes briefly as his breathing grew more rapid.
Alexander did not refuse the old man's request, as he felt indebted to the people of his kingdom. Besides, he could see that the old man was gravely ill and appeared to be in his final monts.
"Sure, Uncle. As long as it's sothing I can do, I'll do my best to help," Alexander said sincerely.
The old man smiled weakly, opened his eyes once more, and looked at him. "It's not really a difficult request, young man. From your voice alone, you must be quite young, right?" the old man replied.
Alexander nodded his head. Despite being heavily covered, his voice still revealed his youth.
Moreover, since he had already addressed the old man as 'Uncle,' it was clear that his cover had been compromised.
Seeing him nod, the old man continued, "Can you take care of my grandson?"
Hearing this left Alexander montarily stunned.
The old man's request was not particularly difficult for Alexander, as back in his world, during his ti in the orphanage, he had cared for many younger brothers.
However, this ti, his situation was different. Since he was determined to revive the kingdom, the challenges ahead would be imnse.
He would inevitably face nurous threats, including the constant danger of assassination.
Seeing the mysterious young man fall silent, the old man continued, "If I'm right, you're afraid that my grandson will be in danger if he follows you, correct? But let tell you this—even if you don't take him with you, he will still face trouble. Taking my grandson with you is both a blessing and a risk. I have no one else I can trust to care for him, and you are my best option. Since you don't seem like an ordinary person."
Hearing this, Alexander shook his head. "Can you really trust a stranger you just t to take care of your grandson? What if I'm a bad person?" he asked, looking at the old man lying in bed.
The old man responded as he finished speaking, "My eyes never lie to young man, I can greatly see that you are not a bad person so I can feel at ease." he ended with a smile.
Alexander could only rub his temples at this predicant as he continued to ask,
"Then what exactly is the problem with your grandson? Why do you say that if I don't take him, he'll be in trouble, but if I do, it will also bring trouble—yet there's a benefit in the end? I don't understand," he admitted, feeling perplexed.
He then looked down at the kid lying in his arms, now breathing normally. The old man did not waste any ti and began his explanation.
"Have you heard of the Spirit Race?" the old man asked.
"Spirit... Race?" Alexander muttered under his breath, deep in thought.
"What kind of spirit is he talking about?" Alexander wondered inwardly.
"Is he referring to a ghost? But since when did ghosts beco spirits? Those are two different beings. Or is he talking about spirits, those beings with magical powers and supernatural abilities?"
"I'm not familiar about it," Alexander responded, the old man was stunned looking at him dumbfoundedly.
Seeing the old man's dumbfounded expression, Alexander wondered if he had said sothing wrong.
"Are you serious?!" the old man exclaid, his voice rising in disbelief.
"What kind of cave have you been living in to not know about the Spirit Race? They're part of every bedti story and every old tale passed down through generations!"
Beneath his cover, Alexander raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly embarrassed but maintained his composure.
"I've... been busy," he muttered, scratching his chin with an awkward laugh.
The old man shook his head, as if Alexander's ignorance on the subject was a personal affront.
"Even children know about them! The Spirit Race are beings of pure elental magic, older than any kingdom. They're said to have shaped the world itself. Every family has stories about them, even if no one has seen one in generations. They're in the legends, yes—but still!"
The old man's eyes darted toward Alexander, scrutinizing him. "To think you don't even know the basics... Their power is said to rival the gods themselves—if they exist, that is," he added, both in awe of the legends and bewildered by Alexander's ignorance.
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