Tempest of the Battlefield Chapter 427: Where Is My MONEY?

Chapter 427: Where Is My MONEY?

Translator: Oneshotwonder Editor: Hitesh_

"Let's follow him and go take a look." Lie Jian announced. The rest of the fighters followed Lie Jian's lead and filed through the large gate.

The inner court disciples were not in a hurry to catch up as they took their time and enjoyed the quiet scenery on the outskirts of the city.

Inside, the city was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with cultivators bustling about their business. As soon as the young fighters entered the Court, the clamor of street peddlers turned into that of training drills, telling them that they had entered the training ground.

"Young master, the grand master is waiting for you inside the hall."

"Thank you, but can you stop calling me young master? It gives me jitters. By the way, what is your name?"

The young disciple beamed from side to side, revealing a row of healthy and s.h.i.+ny teeth. "My name is Qi Bin, from the inner court, Archery Branch." Qi Bin said as he bowed deeply.

w.a.n.g Tong looked up at the roof line of the giant hall in front of him, and after only the slightest hesitation, he carried on and walked into the building. A few minutes later, Patroclus and the other fighters also arrived at the entrance. They stood for a second as they mused over their choices. Everyone wanted to enter the hall; however, they hadn't received the invitation from the grand master.

Lie Jian broke the silence and continued; Martians were not well known for their courtesies.

As w.a.n.g Tong walked through the threshold, he was greeted by a dozen old men, all at a similar age as Old Fart. They were arguing about something before they saw w.a.n.g Tong entering the hall. He glanced over the dozen old men and locked his eyes onto the one in the middle. His face looked the same; however, the rascal quality that had always been a part of Old Fart's character was gone. Instead, w.a.n.g Tong sensed a hint of otherworldliness, perhaps an immortal-like nature, in the old man's surprisingly radiant face.

The grand master opened his arms and shouted, "Welcome back! WELCOME BACK!"

The touching scene of the reunion of father and son had coaxed out a few old tears. The other Templar masters backed out of the young boy's way so that grand master's warm embrace could greet him.

w.a.n.g Tong's eyes were red and his face crumpled. He also opened his arms as if he were to return the embrace.

"Screw YOU!"

A golden light lit up the poorly-lit hall as w.a.n.g Tong charged towards Old Fart with the lance. The sudden turn of events stumped everyone. However, the grand master remained calm as a slyness glinted in his eyes.

Old Fart reached out his right arm and stopped the lance.

"Tsz... Too young, too simple, sometimes naive."

"F*ck off! Where is my money?"

"Stingy ungracious brat! You live like a king now. What money are you talking about?"

"WHAT? A KING? h.e.l.l no! You are going to give me my money back, today, right now! I don't care if you are the grand master or the grand monster. Give…me…my…MONEY! "

The two spared the trouble of words and went directly into action as they fought inside the sacred court of the Templars over the b.l.o.o.d.y matter of stolen allowance.

w.a.n.g Tong was tired after a while, so he paused and stood aside to take a rest, getting ready for the next bout of a brawl.

"Why don't you take the other youngsters for a tour of our place? I wish to speak to him privately. Obviously, he is very excited to see me. " The grand master announced to the other masters.

Picking up the cue, the rest of the young fighters followed the other masters out of the hall.

"You are doing very well." w.a.n.g Tong half-mocked and half-grunted.

"You too. Your upbringing was not wasted after all."

w.a.n.g Tong cast a sidelong glance at the Old Fart, "Why don't you look into the mirror? Grandmaster? Hmph! I wonder if all Templars are blind."

"Haha! Who would think, eh? I had tried my entire life getting out of this accursed place, but now I am back!"

"Can you tell me what is going on now? It seems like everyone knows something except me."

"Well, come and join me in my study. It's about time for you to know."

After blowing off the steam, w.a.n.g Tong and Old Fart had quickly bonded again. w.a.n.g Tong could never truly hate Old Fart, since he could never have done anything without Old Fart.

After w.a.n.g Tong listened to Old Fart's explanation, he learned that the s.p.a.ce crystal was from the Templar's Court, and it was the Templar's tradition to hunt for exceptional talents across the universe. Even if they couldn't find the heir of the Blade Warrior, the search would always bring in some disciples to fill up the rank.

One day, the grand master w.a.n.g Buting, aka Old Fart, heard a baby crying inside the Hall of Valhalla. Even after a thorough investigation, no one knew whose kid it was. Therefore, w.a.n.g Buting had decided to adopt the kid as his own and named him w.a.n.g Tong.

When w.a.n.g Tong was four years old, the Blade Warrior's sentient weapon responded to the little w.a.n.g Tong and clasped onto the boy's arm. This had been great news for the Templar, but no one ever heard what happened to w.a.n.g Tong next.

Behind the closed door, there had been fierce debates regarding what they should do with w.a.n.g Tong among the masters. Some suggested that they should leave w.a.n.g Tong in the Court, but the grandmaster insisted on training him by himself in the outside world.

w.a.n.g Buting knew that the kid would have to shoulder immense pressure if his connection with the blade warrior was revealed. In addition to that, a privileged upbringing might do more harm than good to the kid.

"See? I did everything I could for you. Look at you now!" Old Fart said proudly.

"Yeah, yeah. I think I am just your excuse to escape to the real world."

"Hey, you ungracious little sh*t! I did all this for you!"

"Fine, fine. Who are my parents?"

Old Fart was expecting this question. He sighed and then said, "I had been searching for the same answer, but I have failed so far. I think it is up to you to carry on the query. Perhaps you can take the question to the Hall of Valhalla. "

"Hall of Valhalla... On another note, what's in my s.p.a.ce crystal?"

"Hold on!" Old Fart waved w.a.n.g Tong to shut up. "Whatever is in the s.p.a.ce crystal, don't mention anything to anyone. No one can answer your question anyway. That... thing in there is of matter beyond my pay grade."

"What should I do then?"

"Seek the question inside the Hall of Valhalla. I am sure you will find it there."

"Well, I will then, I guess."

"Haha! Good, GOOD! Now that the boring stuff is out of the way, let's ... celebrate? I have some nice vintage saved up here, and those old fools won't be able to stop me enjoying it with my son, will they? Haha!"

"Haha, yeah. Let's go and get ourselves comfortable!"

When the rest of the young fighters returned to the meeting hall, the father and son had already retired to the cellar downstairs.

"Not bad! You have gotten a nice girl for yourself. Kind of like me. "

"Tsz... My standards are much higher than yours. " w.a.n.g Tong waved his hand. "Xiaoru will be here in a couple of days. You better prepare some gifts for her."

"Of course, I will! She will be my daughter in law after all." Old Fart smiled.

w.a.n.g Tong downed another gulp of wine and said, "I would have never thought that I could be a hero! Bah! Why don't you tell me what I should do next, you know, as a hero?"

Old Fart wiped the wine-stained lips and said, "Well, well, you want to play the hero, don't you? Want to save the world, don't you? I recommend you to focus on staying alive first."

"Ah-ha! That's the Old Fart I know!"

"Remember, you are not a superman. Think for other people when you have finally become an Einherjar. As for now, enjoy your life as much as you can."

"For a second, I was afraid that you are going to tell me BS like 'with great power comes great responsibility'… Haha!" Relieved, w.a.n.g Tong patted on Old Fart's shoulder. However, he didn't notice the shrewdness on the tip of Old Fart's curled lips.

"Lad, you have made a name for yourself. Join us!" Old Fart urged.

"Buzz off! I don't want to be the 'Young Master.' What's up with that name anyways? 'Master'...sounds like a terrible translation of a cheesy Martian novel!"