Chapter 123: The Primarch’s Competitior.
The tournament was finally over, the people had returned to their abodes, and the entire Wutherhorn estate had returned to the way it originally was.
Light and the other contestants, except the one who died were finally released from the sick bay of the Pit and allowed to go home to their families.
Jacob still had one thing on his mind though, the young girl who had been taken as a prisoner. She waved at him multiple times for a reason he could not comprehend, he would pay her a visit later, for now he would have ti deal with what was currently on his plate.
There was a soft knocking on the door for the first time in a while.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Xenia opened the door and Emily stood there, the maiden that had escorted them to the room on the first day, she was small even in comparison to Xenia.
"Young Lord Ironfell. The Primarch wishes to see you." She said in her soft voice as she picked at her apron.
"Where is he now?" Jacob asked without so much as a gaze in her direction, he had been rather occupied with his thoughts.
"He resides in his chambers as of this moment." She said and curtsied, still waiting for a response from the young man.
Jacob had been away from the Ironfell castle for about four months now, but it had felt like four years with the experiences he had. He slowly rose to his feet and gestures for the maiden to take him to the Primarch.
The halls of the Wutherhorn manor were awash in golden rays that emanated directly from the sun, giving Jacob an ethereal glow as he glided on the porcelain floors.
They finally reached two large brown double doors, which Emily swung open without hesitation.
The Primarch was a rather fashionable man, he sat on a seat adorned with red precious stones, he had a green suit on and his brown hair was slicked backk in a way that made him look Italian.
In Jacob’s mind, the man looked exactly like a model that would appear on the front of a magazine.
"Ah! Jacob, welcome, would you like something to drink?" The man asked, beckoning on Jacob to rest on a seat beside him.
Jacob shook his head and smiled, he wasn’t much of a drinker, so he didn’t care to indulge in alcohol or the likes. "None for me, but your gesture is well appreciated sir."
"Nonsense! I insist." The Primarch said, gesturing for Emily to bring them some drinks, the man thought himself so high, he barely spoke to any of the servants, he only spoke to them in gestures, and whoever misinterpreted a gesture wrongly and embarrassed him was duly punished.
Heimdall was the only exception as he could read the Primarch’s mind, so the man didn’t really need to say a word.
Jacob couldn’t refuse the gesture at this point, he would only sip his drink in the glass slowly.
"Unfortunately, there was no longer any room to accommodate your battle with my chosen competitor two days ago." The Primarch spoke in a calm voice, he had taken a liking to Jacob, one which even he didn’t understand, but he didn’t fight against it.
He knew Jacob wad capable of much more than he let on, and he hoped by getting closer to him, he would reveal what it was.
"But it was a great tournament, I can’t say I’ve been more entertained in my life." Jacob responded, the perpetual smile playing at his lips. Jacob was neither a pretender, nor a fake person.
He bore no enmity or ill-will towards the Primarch, therefore there was no need to be hostile.
"Yes indeed it was, certainly surprised me."
"Me too."
"Tell me Jacob, are you still up for a challenge." The Primarch leaned in, his gaze fixed entirely upon Jacob, who lowered his in ponderment.
"Well it wouldn’t be a bad thing, but how exactly wil it happen, will the people be willing to leave their homes, just come and watch me fight?" Jacob inquired.
The Primarch let out a chuckle, that was the first ever time that he had ever heard the man laugh, something he was sure even his sons had scarcely heard. "Don’t sell yourself short Jacob, there are so many people in this estate who want to see you fight. No matter who the opponent is—you see, fighting is our culture, and it’s the Wutherhorn way.
But no. You will not fight in front of people, you will fight in front of me, I want to see what it is you are capable of." The man finished his statement and sighed deeply. "In truth, I’m not entirely happy at the result of the tournament— but it is what it is, it can’t be changed."
Jacob looked at the man, he knew already that Light winning that tournament would not be enough to win the Primarch over, so he expected the man’s words.
"Okay, I agree, who would be my opponent then?" Jacob asked the man, who raised his head for a moment as if thinking about it, then he snapped his fingers and said the answer.
"Heimdall." The Primarch said proudly, as though he was sure, Heimdall would win the fight. It was expected though from Jacob that he would be facing Heimdall, especially after what he had heard from the Wutherhorn boys.
He would finally see the full capacity of the man who pretended to be blind.
The Primarch and Jacob continued their discussion just as Emily returned with the tray of drinks. The glasses were poured into and the men had a very lengthy discussion about a plethora of things.
The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, it was surprising to Jacob how much the man had to say, telling him stories of his past, he never expected it from someone once perceived to be completely rigid. But he wasn’t complaining either, he welcomed it as he had nothing better to do for the day.