"What are you doing here?" asked Byron with narrowed eyes. His whole casual, disdainful demeanor was gone, replaced with anger and seriousness.
The old man laughed slightly. "I've been with you for around three weeks. Couldn't you tell?" the old man said with a smile.
"So, you've been here all this time?" Byron asked. "Then why didn't you stop me from killing the Wind Sect Master?"
The old man smiled slightly. "You know that I don't interfere with politics, little Byron."
Byron's eyes narrowed even further. "I'm over 140 years old," he stated matter-of-factly.
The old man switched his walking cane to a different hand. Apparently, his current hand had gotten tired. "You'll always be little Byron, no matter how old you are." The old man then looked at the sky in remembrance. "I still remember the young boy that accompanied old Darkness. You were still a youngster back then. How long has it been since you and my little lightning bolt played?"