Chapter 535: Act 283 – Acquisition of the Bomb
The sound of the royal knights’ hooves faded into the night, and the manor finally returned to calm. Brendel noticed the young earl’s subtle frown as he looked in that direction. The boy turned his head to look at him, the bright moonlight casting a serene glow on his delicate face, revealing a contemplative expression. Dierphir alluded, “It seems you know them?”
Brendel had no intention of openly discussing his identity; he lifted the hood that had previously concealed his face, revealing a mysterious smile without confirming or denying anything.
“Hmph,” Dierphir huffed lightly. He glanced at the wreckage surrounding them, the remnants of the house that still stood. “In any case, thank you for your help. The lord of Yan Fortress will never go back on his word. But Martha will be watching everyone on the ground from above, hoping that gentlemen will remember your promises.”
“Rest assured, we will not involve you,” Brendel replied, aiming to put the boy at ease.
Dierphir looked at them skeptically, “Who are you going after?”
Brendel smiled without answering.
“You’re making me uneasy, sir,” Dierphir bit his lip, a bit annoyed.
“Then we can just separate once we enter the venue.”
“But the Temple will eventually find out that you entered with us.”
This was indeed a problem. Brendel thought to himself that this young earl was quite perceptive. He glanced back at Charles, who shrugged. It was clear to anyone that the Temple could not be compared to a manor situated in the countryside; no illusion could fool the clergy’s eyes unless Martha herself came to intervene. Brendel contemplated for a moment before replying, “Well, if it comes to that, you can say you were coerced by us—”
Dierphir was slightly taken aback.
He looked at them curiously, almost unable to believe that such words could be uttered by a group of ruthless infiltrators, “Kidnapping a noble, aren’t you afraid of the consequences?”
“If we were afraid, we wouldn’t have come,” Brendel smiled slightly.
“But you could threaten me into silence; you have my secrets,” Dierphir frowned, looking at them in confusion, “Don’t you?”
“Am I to understand that you are teaching us how to coerce you, Lord Earl?” Brendel asked, unable to suppress a chuckle.
“No… I mean… just…” The young earl flushed.
“Just you don’t understand?” Brendel smiled. He never considered that his actions needed to be hidden; he just didn’t want to complicate matters. If the Temple insisted on pursuing the matter, let them come. He had already prepared for the best and the worst outcomes.
The worst result was merely opposing the Temple of Fire; Erluin was not one to shy away from such things. His predecessor, Eke, had fought many battles against the Temple, and that legendary king had the wind elves as backup—so did he. Brendel believed Otales would not stand by and do nothing, and the Queen Wind surely would relish in sparking a fire in the Temple of Fire’s backyard.
Thinking this, Brendel couldn’t help but smile disdainfully. Whether it was Erluin of the Temple of Fire or Erluin of the Queen Wind, Erluin was still Erluin. Having made his decision, there was no need for change.
He waved his hand, “Regardless, let’s leave it at that. I simply happen to have no habit of exploiting others’ misfortunes.”
“So…,” Dierphir gazed at Brendel and his group with a somewhat complicated expression, pondering if they were mad. Did they not realize how serious a crime it was to brazenly kidnap a noble within the Temple’s jurisdiction? He had grown up in a noble household, trained in the finest etiquette, immersed in the genteel conduct of the aristocracy, and had never witnessed or contemplated such insane actions. For a moment, he couldn’t help but be taken aback.
“Well, Lord Earl?”
“Alright… I…” Dierphir’s palms sweated, and for some reason, his heart raced, “I understand. Let’s set an agreement under Lady Martha’s witness. Please… rest assured, if… it’s not the last resort, I will not expose you; you are the most gentlemanly… robbers I’ve ever met.”
Brendel chuckled again, thinking this young earl was indeed interesting. “Have you met many robbers, Lord Earl?”
“No… not at all, but I’ve seen some in the border areas,” Dierphir quickly realized he misspoke and blushed.
Brendel smiled, “Then it’s a pleasure to cooperate, Lord Earl.”
In his sixteen years of life, Dierphir had never imagined he would happily cooperate with a group of unwelcome guests—or rather, forest bandits, as he thought of Brendel and his friends. Yet for some reason, he felt he wasn’t entirely reluctant. He glanced at his two knight companions, Nia and Swordsman Rong Ning. The lady knight looked displeased, while Rong Ning merely shrugged.
“Well then, let’s have a pleasant cooperation.”
…
“You have quite the way with words, my lord,” Charles remarked as they walked home, his tone unclear whether it was sincere praise or genuine admiration. He had just finished telling Antinna and Little Romain about their recent escapades, casually mentioning the dealings between Brendel and the young earl of Yan Fortress.
“I have a way with words?” Brendel, riding his horse and wrapping his arms around the business lady in front of him, tilted his head, “When did I ever mislead anyone? You must be talking about Andrigraphis.”
“Hmph!” The vampire lady, riding on another horse nearby, couldn’t help but huff. She was on a pure black warhorse, a color she insisted upon.
“No, no, not at all,” Charles quickly clarified while sitting on a yellow-brown mixed horse. “I was trying to say that when you produced that recording crystal, it was perfectly timed and brilliantly breached the earl’s last mental defense, reminding me of those wandering Nocosen people in the Highlands. You’ve heard of them; they are notorious merchants around Karasu.”
“Nocosen merchants are synonymous with being deceitful everywhere, not just in Karasu. Can’t you think of something better?” Brendel replied irritably.
“On the other hand, I remember that the recording crystals made in the territory are all kept by Miss Antinna, right?” Husher suddenly asked, “How did you come up with the idea of asking Miss Antinna for such an item? Did you know the earl was studying divination spells?”
“Recording crystal?” Brendel pulled out a crystalline sphere, “You mean this?” He smiled, casually tossing the crystal ball into the bushes by the roadside.
“My lord?” Husher was momentarily stunned.
At this moment, Little Romain, sitting in front of Brendel, finally couldn’t help but giggle. She leaned back, resting her small, soft back against Brendel’s chest, tilting her head with a beaming smile, “That’s not a recording crystal! It’s a crystal ball I bought at night! How terrible! That wicked merchant used a glass ball to deceive me—no professional ethics at all!”
“Ah?” Husher was instantly bewildered.
“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “For a rogue, that guy had a sense of professional ethics.”
“That’s true,” Romain immediately agreed.
“However, I didn’t expect the Yan Fortress family to have fallen this low,” Charles shrugged, becoming a bit serious. “They can’t even find a proper heir. If there were an old fellow to hold the fort, they wouldn’t send such a naïve little princess alone to Ampere Seale, would they?”
“Little princess?” Antinna asked, puzzled.
“She’s the Countess,” Brendel shook his head. His willpower was quite strong; simple illusions couldn’t affect his mind. Both he and Charles saw through Dierphir’s disguise at a glance. Perhaps only the young earl was unaware. However, as Charles said, sending such a young lady to Ampere Seale to participate in a noble conference indicated some trouble. When connecting this to Dierphir’s series of actions, the conclusion wasn’t hard to draw. But now was not the time to meddle; regardless of who the other party was, as long as they could bring them into the arena of the aristocracy, that was sufficient.
With this in mind, he turned to Flour and asked, “What have you found from that demon’s relic?”
Flour glanced at him, then produced a large, transparent golden metallic arm ring, thumb-width, engraved with strange patterns resembling flames. Anyone who recognized the markings would immediately identify them as a form of hellish script—recording the full text of a demon contract inscribed on a sulfur stone tablet from the eleventh layer of the scorching hell.
“A demon arm ring!” Brendel exclaimed internally upon seeing the translucent gold arm ring. It was said that demon arm rings were used by high-ranking demons to control lower-tier demons. This rumor had been passed down by Burnoson’s witches, though no one had ever verified its authenticity. Nevertheless, with this gold ring as a medium, players adept at divination could indeed make contracts with certain entities from the lower worlds. This was a very rare and highly valuable item in the game.
But the key was this item was a hot potato within the Amber Sword; there were no auction sites here, and even if it were to appear on the black market, who would dare to buy something so notorious openly? Although Brendel understood the item had value, he couldn’t think of a better way to sell it. He certainly wouldn’t go into business with cultists; Brendel felt he wasn’t crazy enough for that.
He handled the item, examining it several times. He could technically use the demon arm ring; he just needed to switch to a summoner class. Yet there was another issue: demons summoned using a demon arm ring were not conventional servants; they represented the owner of the ring. Brendel knew that many demon lords in the Scorching Hell used such demon arm rings, yet from the lowest-ranking demon lord to the top twelve demon kings, no one knew what entity would be summoned by this ring.
If he summoned someone like the King of Greed, the Trickster, or a Succubus Lord, it would be manageable for transactions. But if it summoned the Lord of Hell Akenchu or the Ruptured Blade Lord Rother—some of the most terrifying entities in the Scorching Hell—the summoner would definitely be eradicated, possibly leading to an immediate war between the inferno and the mortal realm. Brendel recalled instances when players had caused such events, leading to a massive plot chain.
He stared at the item for a long time, finally suppressing the curiosity characteristic of players. Curiosity could kill the cat, and Brendel was very aware of this. He carefully placed the item into a dimensional pocket, deciding not to deal with it for now. After all, knowing his luck, he might really summon the Lord of Hell Akenchu.
However, Flour, observing his strange behavior, couldn’t help but ask, “What is this?”
“A ticking time bomb,” Brendel replied somewhat helplessly.
…(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please support it with a recommendation or monthly vote on qidian.com; your support is my greatest motivation.)
