Yarra’s Adventure Notes
Chapter 813 - 78: The Aging Philarx

Chapter 813: Chapter 78: The Aging Philarx

Just as he had done over a hundred years ago when he invited Fila before a battle, he sat at the dining table in his perennially unchanging black robes, a magic staff embedded with several gems placed beside him, within easy reach. Still as thin as ever, his aura remained aloof, and the long corridor seemed like a space-time tunnel. Crossing this corridor, Pannis felt as though he had traversed a heartbreaking dream spanning over a hundred years, waking up once again to the distant past, to the very beginning.

Regrettably, though, a corridor is merely a corridor—it will never transform into a space-time tunnel. Pannis could never return to a hundred years ago, nor could Fila. The time spent could never be relived, just as with the current Fila. Once mighty and proud, a demigod mage standing at the pinnacle of humanity, a lord with vast territories, his thin lips could command stars to fall and the earth to shatter. Facing such a formidable entity, no matter how powerful or terrifying the enemy, they had to bow their head submissively. But, time, that unrelenting force, bent even the mightiest, as evident in Fila’s current state.

The Fila of today still tried hard to sit upright at the table, straining to keep his back straight and maintain his pride. However, no matter how much he tried, he could only stabilize himself by supporting his body with his arms on the tabletop. Through the transparent crystal seen from the side, his pale, weakened face was crisscrossed with wrinkles. His skin and muscles were shriveled like dry bark. Fila’s torso was draped with a large napkin, one arm supported the table while the other held a soup spoon, scooping up bits of food cut into small pieces on his plate to put into his mouth. Yet, the hands that once could steady a reagent bottle for experiments now trembled violently, nearly convulsing, failing multiple times to bring the spoon to his mouth. With each tremble, bits of food fell from the spoon, quickly leaving only a few pieces left on it, most having dropped onto the table or his napkin. Despite this, Fila did not give up and, after several attempts, finally managed to get the spoon to his mouth. After taking it out, he began once again to struggle tremulously with the food on his plate.

A few maids, tasked with his personal care, stood by his side, but despite seeing his difficulty, they showed no intent to assist, merely watching as he repeatedly jabbed the spoon at his face, covering it with food debris.

"Master Fila he..." Catherine could hardly believe her eyes. The young knight had often fantasized about facing a hero like this, even imagining Fila bedridden like Christo, but she never expected to witness such a scene—a once-powerful figure now unable to feed himself. Catherine bit her lip and was silent for a long time before suddenly turning to ask Felic, "Why don’t those maids help him? Four maids, why do they just watch as the Master struggles so terribly with his food, couldn’t they feed him?"

Felic shook his head, his smile bitter, lowering his voice to say, "You don’t understand how proud a person he is. He does not allow himself to depend on others for living, eating, changing clothes, going to the bathroom, he insists on doing all these himself, he won’t allow anyone to help him, and he might even get angry and scold those who try. You wouldn’t know the effort it took just to persuade him to let the maids cut his food into pieces. Many students from different stages came back and surrounded him, pleading for several days, before he grudgingly agreed."

"Why cut the food into pieces?" Catherine instinctively asked, but then quickly figured out the reason, shaking her head and saying, "Ah, he can’t chew the food with his teeth anymore, can he?"

"But still, to persist like this..." Vivian also frowned, clenching her fists tightly and gritting her teeth, "Even with such persistence, it looks very difficult."

"That’s why the master hasn’t attended any banquets in recent years," said Felic with a sigh. "And he absolutely refuses to have outsiders present while he eats, even preventing us, his students, from seeing as much as possible."

Everyone suddenly fell silent, the corridor sunk into an eerie quietness. Through the transparent wall, they all watched an old man on the brink of death, still using all his strength to uphold the last of his dignity. Perhaps for most people at such an age, being troubled by illness and having servants care for them might not be unusual, but Fila’s pride did not permit it. The mighty Fila, once capable of destroying a city with a wave of his hand, would never bow down to time or illness. Even if he had to crawl forward, he would do so with his head held high, proudly advancing.

"This is what you wanted us to see, isn’t it?" Pannis had not spoken a word since seeing Fila, nor had his eyes left this old friend even for a second. Now, he finally withdrew his gaze slowly, his face expressionless, but his eyes heavy with sorrow, he told Felic, "We understand his condition now. You don’t have to worry. We’ll handle everything quickly, we won’t disturb him too long, and we won’t make unreasonable demands. Rest assured."

"Thank you very much," Felic said, bowing deeply and earnestly thanking everyone, "I know you came to visit the master for important matters, and I did not hinder your intent, but I must protect my teacher, so I had to persuade you all this way. Thank you for your understanding."

"However, is it okay for us to stand here like this?" Pannis’s expression remained as grim as stagnant water—"If he looks up and sees us, won’t he become very agitated?"

"Ah, don’t worry, the teacher can’t see us." Felic’s smile became even more bitter, indistinguishable from crying, "Beyond a meter, the teacher can only rely on body size to distinguish people; any farther, and he can’t even tell if someone is there. We are at least ten meters away from the teacher, with a crystal wall between us. Although it’s transparent, it still causes some interference, so there’s no need to worry that the teacher will see us."

"Hmm, it seems it’s not only sight and hearing in the six senses." Pannis shook his head, "Even the energy sensing has become this dull?"

"The ability to sense energy is slightly better than you might think," Felic finally shared some good news, "mainly because, during the construction of the Magic Tower, a feature that disrupts energy sensing was added throughout the entire tower, only a few rooms can avoid this. So, with this shielding, it’s normal that the teacher can’t sense you, especially since this sensing ability significantly declines with age."

Pannis quietly hummed in agreement, then shut his mouth. The corridor fell into dead silence once again; everyone watched the old man ten meters away, focusing intently on each spoonful of food he brought to his mouth and spilled on himself, as devoted as when he once stood at his workbench.

Who knows how long it passed, the old man finally finished, or rather spilled, his meal in front of him. Taking the napkin passed by a maid, even though nothing was grasped when he reached out his hand, it still shook violently as if any exertion would cause his right hand to tremor uncontrollably.

"I’ll go and notify him, masters, please wait a moment." Only after watching his teacher painfully finish his lunch did Felic finally take a deep breath as if he himself had gone through that suffering. Sweat even broke out on his forehead as he spoke bitterly, "The room next door, surrounded by opaque walls, is the teacher’s private meeting room. Perhaps you could sit there for a while. The teacher will be over soon."

"No need," Pannis declined, "Wait until he has cleaned himself up, then go and notify him. Just say we have just arrived, and it was I who insisted you bring us directly here. That way, he won’t be angry at you."

"That’s fine," thought Felic, and nodded with a bitter smile, "Then we shall wait a bit longer."

What he called a little while actually saw the eight people standing still for another ten minutes, watching Filah carefully wipe the stains on his hands and face with a napkin, then reaching behind his neck to take off the bib he had worn. Each movement was incredibly slow, like slow motion, and just the motion of taking off the bib took almost two minutes.

Fortunately, he didn’t insist on doing much himself; aside from washing his hands and face and removing the napkin, the rest was quickly finished by four maids. When everything was done, and the maids brought him post-meal tea, Pannis then gestured, "You can go and notify him now, thank you."

Felic complied, strode to the dining room door, knocked and waited a few seconds before entering. With solid soundproofing in the building, separated by a wall, the girls couldn’t hear anything inside and only saw Felic with hands hanging down, respectfully approaching Filah, bowing to his teacher, and then bending over to whisper a few words into his ear.

Upon hearing Felic’s notification, a clear surprise showed on the old man’s face. He looked in their direction and tried to stand up, supporting himself on the table, but failed several times, sitting down halfway through each attempt. Felic tried to help, but was discontentedly pushed away by the old man, who, after several attempts, finally stood up steadily, leaning on his magic staff, and walked tremulously toward the dining room entrance. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, you are welcome to vote for it on Qidian (qidian.com) with recommendation or monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users, please visit m.qidian.com to read.)