Chapter 861: Act 39 – Two Letters IV
After a night of silence, Brendel and Freya found themselves seated across from each other, both lost in their thoughts. Brendel was weighed down with concerns, while Freya wanted to speak but didn’t know where to start. In her heart, she couldn’t quite discern her feelings towards the man before her. There might be some admiration, but she wasn’t sure if it qualified as girlish infatuation—she was uncertain about that. However, knowing that Brendel already had a confirmed relationship with Romaine, she felt too embarrassed to intrude further. Yet, when she instinctively sensed the ambiguous relationship between Brendel and Antinna, a twinge of annoyance crept into her heart.
All night long, she sat on a wooden bench, silently flipping through the thin booklet in her hands. The book was not thick, and before long, she had flipped to the last page absentmindedly. Raising her head, she caught Brendel looking at her with bright eyes, and she froze for a moment before hurriedly sinking her head down again, grinding her teeth as she thought, “That insufferable playboy.” Flustered, she fumbled to reopen the booklet, her mind racing with thoughts: “How can he stare at me like that? So rude!”
Poor Brendel, he was actually preoccupied with the Viscount Test’s words and the letter from his mother. If anything, his gaze was more subconsciously drifting towards the wall behind her rather than directly at Freya, completely unaware that his image had already begun to resemble that of a noble dandy in the eyes of the future Valkyrie.
The silence between them stretched on as the long night continued, but it couldn’t delay the arrival of the next morning.
When the first rays of dawn rose over the roof of the dilapidated building across from them and pierced through their window, falling onto the desk without crossing the midline, a sudden series of knocks echoed from outside the door. Brendel was the first to regain his senses; he straightened up and realized that the future Valkyrie of the kingdom was sitting opposite him with her hands resting on her knees, the book atop her palms. Her head was lowered, and her long ponytail bobbed slightly as she had fallen asleep, but her upper body remained upright, worthy of her title as a knight.
Brendel couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as he reached out to tap her forehead. Freya’s alertness kicked in immediately; her eyes flew open, and her hands instinctively moved to draw her sword, causing the book to fall to the ground with a thud. She jolted awake at the scene, her face flushing instantly.
“Brendel, I—”
“I actually napped for a bit too,” Brendel smiled. With their physical condition, it wouldn’t be a big deal for either of them to go a day without sleep, but habits are hard to break, especially after a week of travel and intense battles that had frayed everyone’s nerves.
“Is someone knocking?”
Brendel listened closely and caught the rhythm of the four light knocks, nodding in response, “It’s that young boy I hired.” He walked over to the door, opened it, and indeed saw the same boy from the night before standing there, looking a bit uneasy. However, Brendel noticed the boy was holding a basket filled with flatbreads and cheese. Just as his gaze fell on the contents, the boy seemed eager to clarify, “My lord, I just wanted to see if you needed breakfast.”
To Brendel’s surprise, the boy showed some business acumen, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. However, he maintained a serious facade and said, “Put it down. You came so early, you must’ve found out about what I asked you to investigate yesterday.”
The boy hastily set the basket down, still appearing a bit awkward, but instinctively adopting a tone of familiarity, “Of course, my lord. I wouldn’t dare slack off on the tasks you assigned me; I looked into everything you asked.”
“Did you find out about that miller named Scott?” Brendel asked. “Scott” was indeed his father’s name, but most people referred to him simply as Old Scott.
“I found out overnight, my lord. I didn’t even have time to sleep. See, I rushed right over to you.” The boy said eagerly, as if born for this task, vividly describing, “There really is someone by that name; his estate is just south of Bruglas, right by the Buche River bank. I heard he opened the mill here just in the last few decades. Back during the reign of the previous king, their family was still considered outsiders, though they seem to have some distant connections with the nobility of Karasu.”
Such news gathered in just one night was quite a decent outcome. Brendel knew this was because his father was a miller of some renown in the area. It would have been far more difficult to gather definite information if the individual had been a nobody. “Anything else?” he prompted.
“Also… um…” The boy furrowed his brows for a moment, scratching his head as if recalling trivial details, “Oh, right! I heard he has a son who went missing during the war; quite unfortunate.”
That was indeed talking about himself, Brendel thought. It seemed not many people were aware of what he had gone through later, as most only heard about the Earl of Toniger’s deeds. His own name was not well circulated, and even if fragments reached the local ears, people likely wouldn’t connect the dots that the grandson of the famous swordmaster Darus would have any ties to a miller. In this era, the case of name repetition was exceedingly common; for commoners and even nobles, this embarrassment was not unheard of. After all, how else would name like Anson the Tenth and King Obergo VII come about?
He pretended to nod, “What about any guests at this family lately? Did you hear anything?”
The boy nodded quickly, “There seems to be.”
“‘Seems to be’? What does that actually mean?” Brendel was very unhappy with such vague talk. His earlier inquiries were merely to ensure the boy wasn’t speaking nonsense, but this question was the true crux of the matter, and he hadn’t expected the boy to give him such an ambiguous response.
The boy jumped slightly at his tone, glancing at his face and realizing that the ‘high-ranking’ employer didn’t seem poised to explode with anger, quickly licking his lips to add, “I believe there should be. I specifically asked people who have had recent dealings with that family, and they all claimed there weren’t any visitors, nor were there any strangers lingering around. However, my lord, I took care to keep my wits about me because I think some guests might prefer to keep their presence unknown,” as he spoke, he cautiously watched Brendel’s expression. When he noticed a flicker of surprise mingled with appreciation on the latter’s face and a nod indicating approval, he felt relieved enough to continue, “So, I changed the way I asked.”
“You changed the way you asked?” Brendel interrupted.
The boy nodded.
“How did you ask?”
“I inquired if any caravans, mercenary groups, or any other strangers had passed near Old Scott’s mill recently, you know, outsiders are quite rare in our area, any passing foreigner—whether adventurer, mercenary, or trader, we locals can identify immediately with just a glance. Please guess what I found out this time. Those people told me that about a week ago, a group of knights passed through there. But I know that the road to Old Scott’s mill is a dead end; it’s not a way that most people would take.”
Brendel knew that road had not been a dead end before. It went through the sawmill to the south and toward Ridenburg; he had trained there in his youth with his grandfather. However, since the undead invasion, the path had been utterly discarded, and calling it a dead end made sense.
“A group of knights? What kind of knights?” he continued to ask.
“They wore blue cloaks, but they couldn’t describe the emblem on them.”
“Blue cloaks.” Brendel murmured. He already had an answer in his heart; looking across Erluin, only the Highland Knights wore blue cloaks, though he couldn’t rule out the possibility of other forces impersonating them. However, that was unlikely; it took some guts to impersonate them in Erluin, and he himself did it out of necessity. It was rare to find another such reckless person in the entirety of Erluin kingdom. “Could it really be the Highland Knights?” He shook his head, still bewildered about why these guys would bypass him to seek his parents. Did they want to rekindle the relationships his grandfather left behind? It didn’t seem necessary for those free-spirited knights.
He collected his thoughts and gave the boy a scrutinizing look. “You are called Dian?”
“Yes, my lord.” The boy replied respectfully, and as if sensing something, he smartly added, “If my lord needs my services, I am always willing to serve you.”
“Is that so? Then let me ask you, would you be willing to leave Bruglas?” Brendel admired this boy named Dian for the cleverness he showed while gathering information, and the boy’s innate talent for reading the room was invaluable. Brendel had just obtained some funds from Charles to establish an intelligence network between Cruz and Madara, and he needed someone like him.
Dian’s eyes lit up at the question; he heard Brendel’s underlying meaning but hesitated before shaking his head, “I’m afraid not, my lord.”
Brendel grew curious seeing him decline. He could tell Dian was tempted, so he couldn’t help but ask, “Why? Are you afraid to explore?”
Dian quickly shook his head, explaining, “It’s not that, my lord, but I have a mother to take care of, and she isn’t well. I can’t leave too far.”
Brendel glanced at the food in the basket again, unable to help but chuckle, “These things wouldn’t happen to be made by your mother, would they?”
Dian’s face reddened; clearly caught off guard by Brendel’s insight, he awkwardly defended, “My mother’s cooking is no worse than that of any inn!”
Brendel looked at the boy, his affection for him deepening. He thought he might be aimless like everyone else on the streets, but he wasn’t a true delinquent. Firmly deciding, he told him, “You head back, and I’ll send someone to find you when the time comes. You can rest assured that if I need you to leave Bruglas, it will be with your mother. You wouldn’t want to leave her worrying about you in your current state.”
Dian was momentarily stunned, looking at him in surprise, “My lord, is that really true?” He had already vaguely guessed that Brendel might be considering taking him on as a retainer, and he would certainly be happy to work for such a generous master. However, he had never heard of a master willing to let his retainer bring their family along.
“Do I look like someone who has the time to play around with you?” Brendel replied gruffly.
“My lord, you are the most benevolent person I’ve ever met,” Dian said sincerely.
Brendel then spent a silver coin to send off the new retainer before picking up the basket from the ground and closing the door. Turning back, he noticed Antinna was awake at some point, lying in bed and looking a bit embarrassed at him, “I’m sorry, my lord. I’m so useless.”
She spoke only once Brendel turned his back to her. However, Brendel had no thoughts of reprimanding her; he considered it only natural for a gentleman to allow a lady to rest when there was only one bed. He shook his head in response, “Did you hear everything?”
Antinna nodded in reply.
“What do you think?”
“He is unlikely to be lying, but that means, my lord, the people your mother mentioned in the letter must indeed be the Highland Knights,” she analyzed softly.
“What puzzles me is why they’re going through such trouble to find me.”
“My lord, perhaps they want to avoid other nobles,” Antinna replied.
In Brendel’s heart, that was the only possibility he could think of, but he was curious about what the Highland Knights sought from him while avoiding other nobles. Since the battle with Ampere Seale began, he had been quite intrigued by these knights; despite being Darus’s grandson, they seemed to show him an excess of enthusiasm. Darus had never been a leader of the Highland Knights, and his family didn’t seem to maintain any ties to them. If they were merely showing excessive warmth for the sake of a swordmaster’s descendant, it felt improbable, especially to the point of becoming embroiled in a war.
From everything that had transpired today, it seemed there was indeed a secret relationship between them and his grandfather’s family.
“That Charles fellow is as tight-lipped as ever,” Brendel complained with a twinge of annoyance. Before this journey, he had sought to probe Charles, but that man had merely acted foolishly, as if he had forgotten everything about his life. Brendel knew that was impossible; Medisa was a tangible example. In a fit of anger, he dispatched Charles back to the domain and decided against bringing him to Bruglas.
However, since it was confirmed that the guests mentioned in his mother’s letter were indeed the Highland Knights and not coerced, Brendel felt a sense of relief. He sighed and said to Freya and Antinna, “In any case, we’ll find out what trick they’re up to shortly.”
“Brendel, are you planning to meet them?” Freya asked curiously.
“Of course, what else can be done?” Brendel replied impatiently. “And besides, it’s been a long time since I returned home. It’s about time I went back to see it.”
“Should we go too, my lord?” Antinna asked.
Brendel nodded, “Of course, you’re my aide, and you’re my assistant; you naturally need to help me manage this.”
Brendel’s words came off as matter-of-fact, but Antinna seemed to think of something else. With her head bowed beneath the covers, her face flushed, she fell silent.
The three packed their things, and soon left the room, heading straight out of the city toward the mill in Bruglas, which lay to the south and was on the ‘dead end’ road leading to Ridenburg and the Forest of Stags. This matched perfectly with Dian’s description.
Brendel had originally thought it would take quite a bit of effort to recall that road from his memory, considering he had been away for nearly two years, and from Sophie’s perspective, she had never been to this place at all.
However, soon enough, the pine forest by the Buche River began to feel familiar to Brendel. Two years had not significantly altered the area, and as he walked along the riverbank, the pace gradually slowed. He surveyed his surroundings, with each black pine and every rock on the riverbank aligning with his memories, creating a wonderful feeling, as if he had visited this place multiple times in some long dream.
Silently observing the picturesque scenery, he was lost in thought, feeling a surge of a sentiment he had never imagined.
It was guilt.
It had been almost two years since he left home, and during the previous year without a word, he suddenly realized how much worry his parents, especially his mother from the noble house of Cardaligo, would have for him. In his memories, his mother was knowledgeable yet still just a gentlewoman, soft and serene, putting all her energy into raising her son.
He had never been an easy child; otherwise, he wouldn’t have ventured out to such a remote place as Buche.
His grandfather’s expectations and his parents’ aspirations suddenly washed over him in an instant; even before coming here, he felt a hint of reluctance and strangeness. At this moment, those feelings evaporated, replaced by something deeper.
That feeling came upon him so unexpectedly—
As if something awakened from his very blood, he opened his mouth, unexpectedly filled with the anticipation and nerves of a wanderer returning home. He gazed at everything before him, gently inhaled, and finally came to a stop.
“Brendel?”
An astonished voice suddenly came from nearby. Brendel shivered slightly, turning towards the sound. Standing there was a middle-aged man, who had been leading a donkey, and upon seeing him, froze as if he had seen a ghost. Brendel stared at the familiar face and blurted out, “Uncle Dawn!”
“Brendel, it’s really you, Brendel! You’re alive! You’re back?”
“Yes, I’ve returned.”
Brendel felt something in his eyes at that moment, as if they had suddenly filled with something significant.
