Reincarnated into a Snow Griffin-Chapter 67

I may have agreed to give him one hour, perhaps thinking and almost convinced that this human would get bored in no time and leave me be eventually, and dreaded the fact that my already packed day has been just added another compromise, only that, in no moment whatsoever did I agree to give him attention in this hour we would spend together.

And he soon enough came to realize just how full of flaws the terms of his agreement were when for the next week I simply picked up my book, sat on the stone, and read the entire hour we were bound to stay together by my own word only to leave as silently as I have come.

So while the birds chirped, the wind howled and the leaves flustered, I ignored his words and studied and meditated like I used to do when he wasn’t there, only dreading the fact that I could not train my wings for a while, at least until my search for a new hidden place bear fruit or this human gave up bothering me.

It took longer than I thought, but in the end he did stop his futile attempts to talk to me, and yet for some strange reason he did not seem fazed by it at all, or rather, the more I pushed him away and tried to avoid him the more he seemed willing to chase me.

I could only wonder what strong interest he had that propped him this much, after all no matter how much knowledgeable and mature I was for my age I could not think of him having such... adult interests at a tender age like this, I mean he looks a little older, early teens, and I look just a little younger than him since I evolved level wise and since magical beast grew far quicker than humans just like animals are adults with only one year of age, and yet I still had a little bit of baby fat on my face, but I guess with the veil it is hard to keep track of such little things, especially when I behaved in such a matured way, too akin of my real age.

Perhaps it had something do to with that Reincarnated title as well... I may have not fuzed about it much since I did not have any memories of it, but the fact that it was described as having a greater connection with my past lives, there must be some sort of consequences, like the Bookworm title.

Still... small blessings were given when he finally shut up and, for once, I could fully concentrate on my book, even more when he does not come to meet me the next couple of days, and as soon as I started thinking that I had finally gotten rid of him he comes back around the bushes, making me sigh internally, not acknowledging his presence as I put more effort into staring at the book in front of me.

I manage to give him a small peek to see if he was fine when he is not looking, but once his eyes meet mine my gazes shots straight back down to the pages, unable to focus as I wonder why did he come back? And why did he leave in the first place? Not that it matters anyway.

And yet, to my surprise, he does not come running back to me, does not say anything, does not even acknowledge me at all beyond giving me a dimpled smirk, and steadily moves up with a straight front and goes to the middle of the clearing.

I try to ignore him and the strangeness in his behavior, but find myself curious as to what this strange little rascal is up to.

And I discover that his next actions do catch my attention more than his words would do for he suddenly starts speaking with his body as he, in a single swift move, unsheathes his sword out, making the long silver blade glimmer with the touch of the sunlight rays, hypnotizing me enough so that, the next few moments, I found myself staring at his moves and flustering sleeves, the book forgotten on my lap, for I may have heard or known about the martial arts sect proficiency in the arts, but I have never seen someone move their body the way he did now.

His exchanges are so nimble that it looks as if he is engaged in a deadly dance with his sword, the whole body twisting and turning to not only compensate each and every move and maintain his equilibrium but to maximize every attack power to the maximum.

I could not take my eyes away, and at some point I could almost see the outline shape of his enemies being decimated and obliterated by each fatal wound his accurate aim would slash at.

It was devastatingly beautiful.

I won’t deny that seeing him like this, pass his goofy little devil play, was a shock to me, for some reason I had taken him to be a lazy good for nothing and yet here he is proving me wrong for someone needed to train twice as hard to get at the level he already is at this age.

I do not notice that I had not given the book a second glance from beginning to the end of his practice, enchanted by his deadly precise moves, and the realization comes once he finishes his first set of moves and locks eyes with me once more, heavy breathing and sweating and looking stunningly beautiful once he gives me a full dimple smile when he notices that I had been watching him this whole time.

He knew he had managed to catch my attention this time around, knew as much as I that, the moment I showed the smallest amount of interest, that I was doomed, for this little rascal was as stubborn as it came... and his mischievous yet knowing chuckle told me that I had the full interest and attention of such creature set on me.

And any response, as smallest as it could have been, would only ignite his already ablaze flames.

I want to sigh, to get furious, to roll my eyes at him, but in the end I just go back to staring at the book, still too out of it to really read its contents especially when his chuckle grows into a small laugh with my reaction, or rather, forced lack of, knowing all too well the effects his little presentation had on me.

The devil himself he is.

"Shut up." I say, not too loud.

"Oh, he speaks ladies and gentlemen!" He says, making a commotion out of nothing, and soon regretting saying any words at all I force my eyes to stay glued to the words on the paper until they blurred together, and even as I catch movement in front of me I forced myself not to look until I was once more on track and studying the instructions.

But, of course, these would not be the first nor the last times he would tempt me into drifting away from my studies, and as much as this one hour pained me I still went there everyday... and I cannot deny that, like a pet owner, I grew used to his company enough so that, every time he went out on a mission and would stay days away, I would still look at the place where the grass did not growl because of his footwork marked the place constantly in his own training routine.

Things went calmly as such for a while, with the occasional poking of his, and it was befitting that, for one creature like myself, born when the last snow from winter hit the ground, that matters would really change when the first snowflakes started to flow in the wind once more, time flowing as quickly as sand between the fingers.

Most did not care or acknowledge such fact for time... time is a mortal’s worry, and for cultivators it was only a means to an end, meaningless, making so most did not hurry or put any effort into cultivating as much as I do, no hurry in their studies.

However, for me, every day is an agonizing addition to my mother’s suffering and my own, and yet neither me or her were able to stop the flow of time, so it just... slips through my fingers, one day at a time, until winter comes by and months pass by.