Chapter 733: Act 90 – Redemption V
The black knight galloped through the forest like a storm of pure darkness, but it was eerily silent. The hooves of the dead warhorse struck the meadow as if they floated in the air, leaving only the flickering azure flame of the souls that ebbed and flowed with their movements.
Brendel fixed his gaze on the blades in their hands.
“You can’t escape—” Brendel heard Viscount Kartel’s shrill voice, almost like a duck’s, screaming hysterically, “You know what choice you should make. You’re a smart man. Are you really going to abandon everything in reality? The ones you love, and those who love you, just to stay in this illusory dream?”
“I know you understand what is real. You’re a strong person, not a weakling. You have to learn to make choices.”
“You’re not a reckless boy anymore; you understand your responsibilities—”
“Shut up! A failure like you has no right to talk to me about responsibility—!” Brendel abruptly dashed forward, activating his charge skill, colliding head-on with a black knight like a raging rhinoceros. The knight was completely taken aback that these fragile humans dared to attack first. The soul flame in its eyes ignited fiercely, but it was futile; Brendel had already seized its iron mask and dragged it off its warhorse.
With a loud crash, the black knight was yanked down from its saddle and fell to the ground.
Brendel quickly landed behind them. The knights were stunned and promptly redirected their mounts, encircling Brendel once more. He lifted his head to observe the surroundings and felt a pang of regret as he saw the knight who had fallen from its horse rise back up, the power of the silver peak was still too weak; he had merely caught his opponent off guard. If he had elemental-tier strength, that hit would have turned the knight into a thin disc of iron.
Brendel raised his Earth Sword and shouted to Haruz, “Haruz, take your sister and go! You know to head that way—”
Haruz stood frozen, staring at Brendel, desperately shaking his head, “Teacher, what about you?”
“I’ll be there shortly,” Brendel replied confidently.
“But—”
“Less talking; that’s an order! Get moving!” Brendel roared.
The young prince shivered in fright, but before he could speak, the princess caught his hand. Princess Grifian glanced at Brendel’s direction and commanded the nearby knights, “You go help him. Make sure he survives.”
The two knights beside her nodded immediately, drew their swords, and rushed toward Brendel.
However, he glanced at the two knights, shook his head, realizing he couldn’t rely on them. He gestured to the black knights and shouted, “Fools, let me see if your emperor’s Mercury Staff is really that powerful.”
High-tier undead possess wisdom, and naturally could not tolerate these humans’ insults towards their supreme Emperor. Several black knights’ eyes glimmered, and they charged at Brendel. Seeing that his bait had worked, he turned and ran. After all, despite his grandstanding, challenging seven or eight black knights with his silver peak strength wasn’t something he was crazy enough to do.
He rushed toward the forest in the yard, remembering there was a path that led to the main hall, where he might be able to shake off these terrifying creatures.
Provided he could enter the forest—
…
Princess Grifian pulled her ‘sister’ forward, Haruz holding up his skirt with one hand, occasionally turning back worriedly to look in the direction where Brendel had gone. He remembered that this was a dream; since the teacher brought him here, they should leave together. How could they leave him behind?
His heart felt a little flustered.
At that moment, Princess Grifian suddenly stopped, her brow furrowed as she looked at the kitchen leading to the side door of the castle not far away. But unlike her memories, the kitchen door was tightly shut—
She hesitated for a moment, then drew a dagger from beneath her skirt, striking the lock fiercely twice. Unfortunately, the palace’s magical lock couldn’t be opened by sheer force; it was a futile endeavor, leaving only two shallow scratches behind.
“Sister, let me try!” Haruz finally noticed his sister’s actions. He glanced at the door, lifted his skirt, and lunged at the wooden door.
But what the young prince hadn’t anticipated was that just before he smashed into the door, it creaked open on its own, and he collided with empty space, nearly flying into the room. Luckily, a pair of hands reached out from behind the door, steadying him. He looked up to see a familiar face.
“Ni… No, Miss Bai Jia?” Haruz paused, taking a moment to remember the name of the witch he had seen outside the Golden Ten Palace.
But ‘Bai Jia’ held a finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet, and sternly said, “You keep the princess safe right here, just wait for me.”
Haruz stood there in disbelief, looking at her: “No, you… you’re Sister Nemeses?”
Nemeses glanced at him, shook her head, then drew her sword and rushed out the door. Haruz stood dumbfounded at the door, watching the knight’s silhouette disappear into the night.
Brendel had just staged a victorious escape.
Unfortunately, the good times were short-lived; he had barely shaken off the black knights when the script did not proceed as he had imagined. Just as he entered the corridor leading to the side hall, he collided head-on with a suit of armor clanking loudly as it walked.
Indeed, it was a suit of armor, pitch black, seemingly from the era of the Saints’ War, styled simply, but it wasn’t worn by anyone; instead, it burned with a flame of azure blue.
Cursed armor, its essence was actually a ghost, a type of undead. Such terrifying undead first appeared on the battlefield during the second Black Rose War, and naturally came into existence within this dream. It was even more powerful than the black knights and faced no restrictions in narrow terrain.
In fact, it was even more agile than Brendel had anticipated; whether it was Viscount Kartel’s doing, he could see that the thing darted back and forth across the ceiling, chasing him almost faster than he could.
When he looked up again, he despairingly found that ahead was a tightly sealed dead-end.
“Do you know?” It seemed that Kartel had sensed Brendel’s plight, his voice dripping with mockery, droned on, “Sometimes, effort doesn’t guarantee success; what you gain is only endless frustration.”
“People like you always think they can simply solve problems; how can you deny others’ past efforts with a simple choice?”
“I have also struggled, but all I got was failure.”
“And you, too—”
“Kartel,” Brendel replied, hearing the sound of the cursed armor’s clanking feet closing in, he could almost smell the unique stench of the soul’s essence, “This is not about success or failure—”
“Then what is it about? Your power can’t change any outcome?”
“No, there is one thing I have that you don’t.”
“What is that?” Viscount Kartel was taken aback.
It felt as though the entire world had momentarily halted at his thoughts.
Brendel raised his head; he was only ten meters from the door.
“Courage.”
Brendel lifted the Earth Sword and slammed it against the wooden door with a thunderous crash, shattering it to pieces. He tumbled into the room behind it, his arms punctured by countless wood splinters, gritting his teeth in pain.
“And also…”
Brendel saw a hand appear before him, pausing in surprise, but it seemed familiar. He reached out to grasp that hand, the strength that responded was so familiar, forged through countless fights side-by-side, coalescing into a single word:
Companion.
Brendel looked up and saw a gradually clear face, smiling brightly, a maiden showing her snow-white teeth, holding a giant sword, teasingly gazing at him: “You’re late, Sue.”
“Black Tea.”
“You came from the direction of Golden Ten Palace, why did you take so long?”
“There were too many undead.”
Brendel almost blurted it out; this conversation felt too familiar, almost identical to his memories. He closed his eyes, nearly feeling tears welling up. When he opened his eyes again, he saw several silhouettes appearing behind Black Tea—wizards, warriors, nightingales, the faces of those players, each so familiar, smiling at him, offering solace between comrades.
“I thought so; everyone is preparing for the last wave of undead attacks at the side hall: all the members of the Scarlet Traveler, and that guy Redus’s regiment, everyone is here.”
“We’re in charge of holding the rear, Sue. Senior is waiting for you in the palace.”
Listening to these familiar words felt like everything returned to that battle. He saw the silhouettes emerging behind Black Tea—wizards, warriors, nightingales, and those players, all familiar faces, smiling at him, offering camaraderie.
“Leave this to us—”
“Keep moving forward, Sue.”
Brendel stopped; he could feel Viscount Kartel’s emotions trembling within him. He knew what he was afraid of; he passed through Black Tea and everyone else, stepping forward, and everyone made way for Brendel.
“After this battle, there will be no more Erluin, but at least we must let its sword shine one last time,” someone shouted.
“For Erluin—” the players raised their swords, echoing together.
Brendel passed each one of them until a voice called out:
“Sue.”
Brendel paused slightly, turning back; everything behind him seemed to fade away, leaving only the scene of players fighting. Black Tea looked at him, raising her sword to gesture: “Forget about us, Sue—”
“No,” she suddenly halted, changing her statement: “Brendel.”
Brendel remained silent; he understood it was the emotion within him: “Why?”
“Because you must walk further ahead, if you keep looking back, you’ll slow down.”
This time, Brendel did not respond; he turned again, the corridor before him seemed to extend infinitely. He did not answer Black Tea’s question because it was as if he was questioning himself, and he already knew the answer.
“Is this your answer?” Viscount Kartel’s voice in Brendel’s heart shouted frantically: “Stubborn fool, you know you’ve chosen the wrong path! Do you think you are defying fate? You’re merely escaping reality—”
Brendel moved forward, answering in his heart, “Viscount Kartel, everyone experiences failure. But only courage and trust—you will never understand. Because you gave up on them from the beginning.”
“No!”
Viscount Kartel screamed.
Its form materialized before Brendel, that white ghost suddenly became gigantic, its lower body fragmented, while the upper half was covered in shackles, with no mouth, only a pair of cold, shining eyes remaining.
“You can’t save him! You can’t save yourself! You can’t save anyone!” the monstrous apparition of Viscount Kartel screeched, striking a claw towards Brendel.
But Brendel appeared to have anticipated it, retreating just in time to let those elongated sharp claws swipe past his chest.
He immediately felt the power return to his body, granting him elemental-tier strength once again. He looked up at the looming ghostly form of Viscount Kartel, fully aware that he had grasped the key to the entire task.
This terrifying monster was nothing but a collection of the negative emotions haunting Viscount Kartel, the last boss in this dream, according to the strategy guide.
Compared to the dream itself, this so-called monster was the easiest part to deal with.
Just an elite being at the golden peak stage.
Brendel even had the leisure to raise his head, staring at the misshapen monster, sneering, “Is this the resentment and regret you’ve imprisoned in your heart, a weak monster born from your long-standing self-evacuation?”
“You cannot stop me because no one can stop the determination in one’s heart—”
As soon as he finished speaking, he vanished. What remained in Viscount Kartel’s distorted vision was a cold blade, fast as lightning, even quicker than thought.
The monster barely had time to raise its head before that motion froze, culminating in a prolonged wail.
Then with a loud crash, Viscount Kartel’s twisted soul seemed to dissipate into thin air, the shackles falling to the ground.
Brendel sheathed his longsword, glancing back to see a silver gleam among the fallen shackles; that should be the drop for this task. Brendel reached out towards it, and it immediately entered his dimensional pocket.
He had no time to inspect it closely because the entire dream was violently shaking with Viscount Kartel’s death. The world of this dream was on the verge of collapse.
…(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please vote for recommendations and monthly tickets at qidian.com. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
