Trouble

Ronan quickly flew down and landed beside them. He inspected them with a quick glance.

From what he saw, the two entered into some sort of quarrel which ended with someone getting their ass stabbed but it didn't explain the big crater. He was unable to conclude a what exactly had happened so he stopped trying since it was giving him a headache, instead he turned his attention to the two men.

One of them was a man so old, he looked like he had one foot in the grave and the other who was impaled was middle aged, perhaps late forties. Both were dressed in long flowing robes, the stabbed man was in a white robe while the old man in was wearing a striking blue robe that glittered in the light.

The first thought on Ronan's mind was how small these two were, his palm was about as big as their head and if they stood up, they would reach his chest at most.

"Hey.., you all good? Are you still alive?" Ronan asked the stabbed man with a slight modicum of concern. Tapping on his shoulder lightly hoping he would move but the man showed no reaction at all. He was dead as a doornail.

Seeing this, a sly glint flashed in Ronan's eyes.

"Ahem.." He cleared his throat as he took off the dead man's bloodied robe. "Forgive me brother, as you can see I am quite exposed at the moment. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your robe. If you don't agree, just tell me okay?"

Hearing nothing from the dead man, Ronan smiled and tried to put the robe on but it was too small so he could only tie it around his waist, still this was better than being nude. He then bent down to check his pockets of the man's underclothes looking for a wallet and only found a strange palm sized bag that had nothing in it.

"Tsk.. what a poor fella, he doesn't even have a wallet." Ronan shook his head in disappointment. He was hoping to find a little cash but it wasn't to be. He threw the empty bag away and turned his attention to the old man who seemed to still be alive.

The old man's face was like a piece of history itself with many scars covering his face and numerous wrinkles, he had an aquiline nose and wide jaw. It could be said that in the past this old man was quite strapping but now he has weathered the currents of time, all that is left is the visage of someone worn down by living a stressful life.

*Slap*slap

"Hey.. you still alive old man?"

*Slap*slap

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey..."

Ronan was quite enjoying slapping the old man but was interrupted when the old man's eyes suddenly opened and he grabbed his hand.

Ronan was surprised by the old man's grey eyes, they had a certain brilliance and youth instead of the usual turbid and unfocused eyes you'd see on someone who not long for the world.

The old man gave him the kind of glare you'd get if you murdered his mother.

Ronan backed up and smiled with embarrassment. "I was trying to wake you up no need to get so hostile old man."

The old man looked at him in confusion before speaking a few words in some foreign language.

Ronan shook his head and said. "I don't speak your language. Do you speak english?"

The old man's brows furrowed adding more creases to his forehead than a chinese phonebook.

"Do you understand me now?"

Ronan then heard an old wizened voice in his mind causing his eyes to pop out.

"Holy crap old man! Are you some kind of psychic?!"

"Phychic?" The old man thought for a moment as he read the surface thoughts of Ronan's mind experiencing several images and feelings before he understood.

"A cultivator who focuses on the mind? No young man, I am simply using my divine sense to talk to you...anyway, don't you think it's rude to be slapping a poor old man's face like that? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I was just checking to see if you were okay old man." Ronan laughed and scratched his head.

The old man stared at Ronan with narrowed eyes, he snorted and muttered. "More like checking for my sumeru pouch.."

"Sumeru what?" Ronan asked curiously with a furrow brow.

The old man raised his brow. "You don't know what that is? What about cultivators? Have you heard of them?"

He was confused. Even the the most isolated villagers knew of something legendary like a cultivator's sumeru pouch. Such legends are often passed down through stories from their elders. Who hasn't heard a tale of some young prospect ventering forth from their humble beginnings and finding a sumeru pouch filled with some awesome inheritance?

"What bout em? Don't they grow plants?" Ronan answered casually.

"Hmm... You're not from around here are you." The old man stroked his beard, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"How'd you figure that out old man?"

"You don't speak the common tongue." The old man replied bluntly.

Ronan nodded. "True, I've never heard your language before."

"I can teach you if you're willing to owe me a favour boy." The old man smiled with a grin, half his teeth missing.

Ronan scoffed and showed a fierce look. "I ain't no boy you old fellow! Look at these muscles." He flexed his biceps in a classic bodybuilding pose, his veins popping as blood poured into his muscles. "No boy has gains like these."

The old man snorted and laughed slapping his thigh in amusement. "Your bone age is only 29, still a boy in my eyes, muscles or not."

Ronan snorted in response with a disagreeable look on his face.

"So boy, do you wish to learn or not?"

"Depends on what this favour of yours asks of me." Ronan didn't agree right away, although he was strong now, he didn't want to agree to any weird requests.

"It's simple, you just need to help me escape from my enemies." The old man's eyes shone with a intelligent light.

The moment he laid his eyes on this strange boy, he felt a tremendous sense of danger as if staring at some kind of primordial beast and instantly thought. 'This kid definitely isn't simple..'

Hearing this, Ronan smiled and nodded his head. "Sure thing, I can do that." He slapped his bicep firmly. "I'm very strong you see, your enemies won't have a chance!"

"All right, it's a deal then. I'll transfer the knowledge now."

"Transfer?-" Ronan suddenly felt a burst of information enter his mind, new letters and words, their meanings and connotations. A whole new language was suddenly grasped by him as if it was his native tongue.

While he was shocked, a ding resounded in his mind.

"Task [Learn the common language] has been completed... Reward can now be received... would you like to claim it?"

'Hell Yeah!' Ronan shouted in his mind excitedly.

Suddenly the bloody robe he had tied around his waist fell off and like a magical girl, a flash of light covered his body. In the blink of an eye he had gone from a weird nudist to an almost handsome saiyan warrior!

"Whoah..." Ronan's eyes sparkled as he inspected his new armor.

'Tight fitting yet not uncomfortable. It's surprisingly light and does not restrict movement at all.' He nodded his head approvingly.

Ronan noticed that the old man was giving him a strange look, beaming, he asked in the common language. "Yo old man, how's my new look? Dashing right?"

The old man was speechless for a moment then shook his head sighing. "I'm not even going to ask."

Ronan smiled. "I'll take that as definitely then. By the way what is your name old man? You can call me Ronan."

"My name? You can refer to me as Elder Myn." Elder Myn stroked his beard.

"Elder? You certainly are elder-ly. Get it?" Ronan slapped his thigh laughing.

Elder myn's expression suddenly darkened and his eyes narrowed into slits. He suddenly radiated a suffocating murderous aura, one that could only be obtained through killing countless people.

"Whoa you alright Elder Myn? It was just a joke, don't take it too seriously." Ronan backed up a little.

Elder Myn paid no attention to Ronan, his gaze locked towards the sky. "My enemies are here Ronan and they don't plant herbs. They're vicious killers, watch yourself."

"So this is where you were hiding you old ghost!" A voice thundered in their ears.

Ronan looked behind and up in the blue sky, he could see a few figures standing in the air.

3 men, two middle aged and one who looked to be in his twenties. All dressed in luxurious white robes inlaid with golden lotus patterns.

One of the middle aged men was muscular with a large halberd in his hands, the other was a refined swordsman with grays in his black hair.

The young man in particular was rather striking. Handsome like those korean models, with long black hair pinned in some kind of ancient headdress, a red dot in the middle of his brow cemented his rather otherworldy appearance.

The young man looked at the corpse beside Elder Myn, his brow furrowing. "Divos has fallen... Still he slowed you down enough. I'll make sure he is buried with honor. So old ghost, are you ready to join the rest of your severed mountain? They're waiting for you in the underworld."

Elder Myn showed no expression yet his eyes told a different story. They were cold and full of an unrelenting fury. "They sent you, the holy son to deal with little old me?"

The holy son looked at Elder Myn. "A starving camel is still bigger than a horse Elder Myn. Even if your realm has fallen, no golden core is a match for you thus.. I am here."

"Are these your enemies Elder Myn?"

Elder Myn nodded gravely.

"Don't worry I'll help you deal with these guys." Ronan squinted at the 3 distant figures with a slight apprehension. 'These bastards are flying...Could these guys be saiyans too!?' He felt a tinge of panic but calmed down quickly as he saw no tails.

He then had a realization and it made him quite nervous, the kind of nervousness where one was about to get on stage in front of everyone they knew...naked.

Ronan could explain away the strange dog and the murder in the middle of nowhere, he could even explain away the strange new language which was transmitted to his mind with some kind of amazing magic... but flying people? That was where he drew the line.

'This definitely aint earth anymore... I've been transported to some damned alien planet!' He felt his gut turning at the thought of never seeing earth again, well mainly that bastard Harold. When sweet revenge was in sight, suddenly it's a billion miles away.

Truly.. life was unfair!

As the Holy son probed the old ghost with several techniques looking for any signs of weakness, he also noticed the young man next to Elder Myn.

He didn't recognize him nor could he sense any qi within his body which was quite odd. Anything wandering out here in the Ursa forest would need a certain level of ability to survive.

Those with a foundation establishment cultivation would find it tough as there are quite a few ferocious beasts and even demons of the same level here.

Still, his strange clothing and terrifying physique gave the holy son a strange sense of apprehension. Even those who specialized in body refinement paled in comparison to him with a height exceeding 8 feet and muscles too big to be effective.

Muscles that size are a huge liability to those who practise body refinement as they hinder and slow movement. Most would often condense their forms which occurs naturally with any technique above the mortal level.

'Is he a mortal body refiner?' The holy son asked himself before discarding that speculation. 'No, if he was he wouldn't be giving me this feeling of danger.'

'The old ghost is already dangerous enough, dealing with this unknown could be troublesome.' The holy son chose to give the young man a way out.

"Young man, this has nothing to do with you, our business is with this old ghost. You will leave now or suffer the consequences..." The holy son said with a stern voice to Ronan, it was a demand, not a request.

Hearing this, Ronan shook his head and said resolutely. "I owe Elder Myn favor. You guys better back off if you don't want to taste my fist."

The holy son's eyes narrowed. His companions showing clear displeasure on their faces as they both snorted.

The swordsman who wore silver circlet said with scorn in his voice. "Is this boy asking for death?"

The muscular spearman waved his halberd, the red sash on his waist fluttering in the wind answered. "He must be. The young lord with his endless benevolence chose to spare him yet he dares to throw away such an opportunity... such an unworthy cur."

"You are unwise young man.." The holy son waved his finger.

Elder Myn's eyes opened wide as he shouted. "Watch ou-"

Suddenly there was a deafening clap.

The holy son's brow raised, his expression tinged with surprise.

Standing with clear disbelief on his face was Ronan, his feet sunk slightly into the ground. In front of him, caught between the palms of his hand was a golden longsword three fingers wide and about four feet long. Its tip mere inches away from his forehead.

A bead of sweat ran down Ronan's cheek.