Chapter 195: Act 128 – The Knight’s Recognition (Part 2)
The young man’s words lingered for a long time.
No one could speak; his words struck at the deepest core of each person’s heart, making them unable to help but bow their heads to reflect: were their actions really as grand and noble as they claimed? Even steadfast individuals like Livwz and Makarolo couldn’t help but feel a fleeting moment of wavering—yes, that glorious era was precisely the foundation of Erluin’s establishment, wasn’t it? But they quickly regained their confidence and calmed down.
“The ideals of the late king may be noble, but today’s situation is different,” the scholar-like elder sighed slightly. “In the end, we cannot abandon what we should do merely because of a possibility—”
“Ideals cannot change reality,” Makarolo replied coldly.
“So you confront another group of arrogant and indifferent nobles with the same arrogance and indifference, but in fact, you are no different.” Brendel countered in an equally cold tone: “Such a stance, whether it be the royal family or the nobility, cannot truly bring change to Erluin; thus, your failure is inevitable.”
“You have defeated your opponents; can you defeat Madara?”
“Enough of your nonsense!”
Makarolo almost gritted his teeth, filled with the anger of being toyed with. Although he had anticipated this outcome, Brendel’s contempt for them truly ignited his fury. This individual known as ‘Cunning Fox,’ a member of the royal party, lost his temper in that moment, reverting to his other identity—the former leader of the Gray Wolves Mercenary Group, a sword appeared in his hand.
With a ‘clang’ of metal resonating—
Brendel did not retreat, his expression unchanged, even his eyes did not blink as he looked at Makarolo’s sword hanging in front of him. However, between the ‘Cunning Fox’s’ blade and the young man’s nose, a layer of shimmering, hexagonal light network shield appeared, with mysterious spells and runes constantly flashing and disappearing between the networks.
String magic.
And it was the most ancient kind.
Livwz, the court mage, suddenly turned pale, as if he had seen a ghost. “Ancient magic!” the elder managed to croak out those words, his expression shifting as he looked at Brendel, momentarily unsure of what to say. For in this world, among all existing races, there was only one that still used such ancient magical laws.
The dragon clan.
Brendel silently thanked Alorze in his heart and enjoyed the sight of Makarolo’s ashen face.
“You are…?” The Cunning Fox swallowed hard.
“I—” Just as Brendel was about to mock him, at that moment, he suddenly felt a telepathic message from Alorze: “Mr. Brendel, what you said just now seems to resonate with something; this power is so strange… I can barely contain it…”
“What, that line?” Brendel was taken aback.
“It was that oath segment… I can’t hold back the barrier anymore…” Alorze said anxiously.
“Hey, wait!”
Brendel was about to urge her to hold on a moment longer to prepare himself psychologically. However, suddenly he felt a tremor deep within him, something that was certainly not a trick from the dragon girl Alorze nor a mysterious resonance from the traveling mage and cards; it felt like a sense of recognition, a gentle spirit entering his mind, as if a brilliant light appeared in the darkness, and at that moment, a big door opened—
He seemed to pass through this door, seeing the white knight Aibodun and the earth knight Jirande standing to his left and right, nodding and smiling at him, their eyes filled with encouragement and recognition.
But this illusion existed only for the briefest moment before dissipating, and Brendel finally snapped back to reality, tracing the source of that tremor. He instinctively pressed his hand to the wise man’s stone tablet in his waist pouch, but it was too late; he felt that object hum with life as if it were vibrating in his hand, and then in an instant—the clouds above the Shubli Hills parted.
That afternoon.
From the Northwind Forest to Vanalan Lake, from Golden Flame Fortress to Charleslotta, even as far as Bruglas, every person in this region witnessed this miracle: above the azure sky, beneath the platinum clouds converging at some point to the south—it was as if a stone had been tossed into a calm pond—layer upon layer parted, radiating outward in concentric circles.
As the last bit of cloud shadow was banished, the deep blue sky revealed a magnificent light purple clarity, utterly pristine; rural residents, priests traveling between towns, adventurers, and even the seers from the Assembly of Stars were stirred. Even the male mage Bud, far away in the Sea of Death, recorded this phenomenon in Drolar—the monks of the Lionheart Palace poured out, and the recorder from the Black Tower, in a daze, dropped his most treasured crystal ball—the pilgrims of Thunder Gate couldn’t help but kneel and fervently pray to the heavens.
Everyone looked up at the circular vacuous sky to the south, but only a few understood what had truly occurred there.
Artifact response—
The light in the forest suddenly brightened, dispelling the shadows; Bud, Makarolo, and the pale-faced Livwz all looked up at the sky in unison. After the platinum clouds unraveled layer by layer, what remained was a breathtakingly beautiful azure sky etched with spectacular and beautiful patterns resembling gears, each circle measuring nearly one hundred thousand kilometers in diameter—this was the binding element that Lady Martha had descended with, the laws of the world and magic known as ‘Tiamat,’ also the boundary of the elemental world.
No matter how mortals viewed this vast and intricate creation barrier from any angle, they would feel an almost despairing smallness, and an awe-inspiring grandeur.
One hand tightly grasped the seemingly writhing stone tablet; Brendel couldn’t help but look up at the sky.
‘Tiamat’s’ beautiful edges slid against the backdrop of the blue sky, with each arc sweeping across hundreds of kilometers of the sky; yet, a portion of the curves and straight lines representing the laws began to realign. When the gears aligned layer upon layer, and one center was pointed toward this region—
The forest fell silent for an instant.
All the winds ceased.
If this had occurred in the past within the game, Brendel would have been alarmed by such an eerie scene. For this scene bore eerie resemblance to when elemental lords or legendary mages cast their highest-level spells—the fourteenth-ring spells, typically known as forbidden spells or legendary spells; these spells had transcended mortal comprehension, directly invoking the supreme laws for destructive cleansing, equaling or even exceeding the power of nuclear weapons from the original world.
But at this moment, he felt equally alarmed.
The tremor in his heart finally reached its peak.
The center of the circular vacuum dome in the sky generated a slight tremor, and as that tremor expanded outward, a white light pillar descended; far away in Drolar, one of the twelve leaders of Bud’s mages, William Pister, held his magic feather pen, the tip poised above a parchment filled with spells, remaining still, to the point that the ink soaked the expensive lambskin, forming a not particularly large black dot.
Then this elder simply obliviously gazed beyond the silver gridded arch window.
Between sea and sky.
A silver light pillar stood straight.
“This… This is… Eke’s Lionheart Sword…”
A light pillar surged through the clouds, bending as it crossed the boundary of the elements, and then it plunged vertically toward another direction of Erluin—these two light pillars shone brilliantly against the clear sky that afternoon.
In that moment, everyone lost their words.
But Brendel felt only a wave of despair, as he had merely intended to play the part of a righteous figure, not expecting to inadvertently gain the recognition of ‘Merciful Eke.’ Had he known, he wouldn’t have read that ridiculous oath—he had forgotten he had previously accepted a task from the white knight Aibodun and, in a moment of excitement, had just further inspired that task.
Of course, inspiring a task was not strange, but what truly made him want to hit his head against the ground was that it also triggered an artifact response.
Wait a minute, Lady Martha! The Lionheart Sword isn’t a fantasy weapon; how could it elicit an artifact response, suddenly becoming an artifact? The forums said this weapon was a golden-level fantasy weapon, and based on its history, it should be about right; after all, a kingdom like Erluin couldn’t possibly retain an artifact—
This thought flashed through Brendel’s mind.
However, the extraordinary phenomenon of heaven and earth also flashed by; the light pillar lasted about three to five seconds before gradually weakening; Brendel’s hand pressed down on the wise man’s stone tablet, gradually stopping its struggles, finally settling down completely, while he felt a mark left in his heart, as if he could sense a direction in the dark. He knew this indicated that he had formed a resonance with the Lionheart Sword, as a fantasy-level weapon could possess such an ability.
Of course, this connection had both advantages and disadvantages—
The advantage, naturally, was that he had moved a step closer to that legendary divine sword.
The disadvantage, well, was the gaze of suspicion directed at him from Livwz and Makarolo across from him…
…(To Be Continued. For more chapters, please log in to support the author and read the legitimate version!)
