27 Sweat Does Not Lie (2/2)

”Young man, more often than not, powerful curses can only be broken in stages. The Pretorius curse is one of these types of curses.”

Darius's eyes glimmered with hope as he looked at his hands. He had subconsciously dropped the hammer during the odd phenomenon. He tightened his hands and loosened them over and over again as if trying to check something. The old man remained silent and simply observed the young man while stroking his well-maintained beard.

After a while, Darius looked at the old man and said, ”I have to break the anvil.”

The old man raised an eyebrow. ”Excuse me, young man?”

”To break the curse, I have to break the anvil.”

An enlightened sigh came from the old man's mouth. Darius continued on, ”The man who gave me this curse demonstrated it for me once. He hit the anvil with the hammer.”

Darius remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. The sound had been no different from the boom of thunder. It had been so intense that his ears had immediately bled. He had screamed while rolling on the ground, wailing in agony. It was an unforgettable moment that had stuck with young Darius, one that would torment him for the rest of his life.

”Somehow, that man imprinted that sound in my mind, down to the last detail, during his demonstration. Every time I hit the anvil now, I can tell how different the sound is from the one that that man produced. He told me that to break the anvil I had to produce a similar sound, but ten thousand times in a row. In addition, he warned that to delay the curse each day, I should hit the anvil ten thousand times.”

The old man could not help but be shocked. He hadn't known the conditions for breaking the curse would be so stringent. Reproducing a sound that had only heard been heard once? Even if that sound was imprinted in Darius's mind, reproducing it, ten thousand times no less, was ridiculous.

”The volume doesn't have to be the same, but everything else does,” said Darius as he closed his eyes. The old man stroked his beard in thought for a few minutes.

”Young man, why did you decide to tell me this?”

Darius had seemed to be quite wary of his presence only a few moments earlier, yet now he was divulging some of his most private information. This contrast stoked the elder's curiosity.

Darius scratched his head shyly and said, ”My gut told me I should.”

Darius was someone who valued caution above everything else. However, once those chains had broken, a change had occurred within the boy. It was a small change, all-encompassing yet subtle. Like a small stone falling into a pond. The ripples faded from sight, but the energy never truly disappeared. A butterfly's flapping of its wings could result in a tornado.