"And who might these two young friends be?" The old man looked at the Great Elder, his gentle voice tinged with weakness.
Only these three disciples of his knew that he was recuperating in this secret chamber. They wouldn't bring outsiders in without a compelling reason. 'Could it have something to do with my illness?'
"Old Ancestor, we brought them here to treat your illness. This is Misty and Mr. Ronan!" the Great Elder explained.
Seeing the old man try to sit up, the Second Elder hurried forward to help him into a seated position.
Once settled, the old man coughed lightly. "Sigh... You three needn't worry about my illness. I know my own body best."
He considered it a win to have held on for so many years. There was nothing to complain about.
"Old Ancestor, what are you saying? You'll definitely get better," the Third Elder said, looking at the old man with a hint of reproach.
