Chapter 1044: Act 216 – The Flame of Dawn XVII
Brendel smiled wryly. Initially, his plan was not to make such a huge commotion, but unexpectedly, the power of the laws within him erupted automatically, opening the door to the pinnacle of the laws during the battle.
To others, this was an inconceivable benefit. How many people live their lives stuck at this door, where every advancement in the realm of elements is a precious opportunity that one can only aspire to.
Only true geniuses can walk this path to the end.
Even someone like his teacher, Gray Saint Mephistopheles, a once-in-a-century talent, had hung around the door of the extreme plains for decades, hadn’t he?
Yet at this moment, Brendel found it hard to appreciate.
The reason lay in the five mountains looming heavily before him.
In fact, he had been trying to keep a low profile before, not wanting to attract the attention of the extreme powers. However, he did not expect his efforts to end in failure. As soon as he inadvertently displayed this level of power, the Silver Queen indeed acted immediately, but it was nearly a quarter of an hour earlier than he had anticipated.
Five extremities; two to deal with Mephistopheles, two to deal with Sidney, and it appeared that the Silver Queen had even specially prepared one for him.
Brendel couldn’t help but think that Her Majesty held him in high regard.
Then he forcibly suppressed the restless seed of the law within him—once he crossed the truth’s side, a seed of the law would be left in the elemental realm, and once he reached the extreme realm, this breeding seed would form his personal domain—known as the extreme plains.
This seed of flame is also referred to as the First Light of Vaunte, for sages must obtain true wisdom in this light. This is where the origin of the verse’s assertion that everything is born from water, gains spirit from light, and acquires wisdom from flames comes from.
However, at this moment, Brendel dared not accept this seed of law, for strong enemies stood before him, and he didn’t want to recklessly break through realms.
But what troubled him greatly was that this seed was extraordinarily active, a million times more so than the seeds of law he had birthed in the game. He felt as if something in the cosmos resonated with it, calling for it to immediately take root and sprout.
He did not know if this was a reaction resulting from the forces of existence or something more peculiar to him.
But if this continued, it would mean it would be difficult for him to focus on the upcoming battle, which undoubtedly posed a great problem.
Fortunately, the five extreme powerhouses did not directly strike at that moment. Brendel raised his head to look at them, knowing that these people represented the Queen’s will and that the Silver Queen was likely watching everything unfold from some place.
Her not letting them act meant she still had something to say.
Sure enough, moments later, a voice descended upon the Cold Dew Manor.
“Descendant of Darus.”
The Silver Queen’s voice was surprisingly youthful, almost like a maiden, and Brendel paused for a moment before remembering that her age was fixed at fifteen.
However, this voice carried a chilling, unapproachable coldness, hinting at the owner’s volatile moods.
In the manor, as well as in the surrounding forest, everyone lifted their heads. The city guards, the imperial army, and the flame-affiliated knights knelt on one knee, placing their left hands on their chests to show the utmost respect to the owner of this voice.
“When your grandfather was still alive, Erluin and the Empire were the closest allies. That was also Erluin’s most glorious era, what the world calls the Renaissance of Anson. But what about your actions now?”
“You repeatedly obstruct the Empire and even intend to support its separatists. You disappoint me greatly, Brendel, and bring shame to your grandfather.”
The Silver Queen’s voice paused for a moment.
“According to imperial law, you should be condemned to death, but Darus has ties to me, and the Earth Sword Saint was once the commander of the Temple’s coalition. The Empire owes him a debt of gratitude, so I offer you a chance.”
“Submit to me—”
“Or die.”
Brendel felt the pressure on him lift slightly. He couldn’t help but grind his teeth; the feeling of being constrained by fate did not sit well with him. Although the figures before him were all renowned in history, being suppressed by them wasn’t exactly shameful.
He lifted his head and declared, his voice echoing throughout the forest: “Your Majesty, the Flame King, while founding the temple, also established Cruz, with the nations under the temple serving as its spokesperson.”
“And Erluin, likewise—”
“In fact, just before you closed this door, the Erluin envoy, together with myself, had already arrived at Lune, indicating that you have never lacked Erluin’s loyalty. Naturally, you do not lack the loyalty of a mere baron from a remote place like myself.”
“But now,” Brendel raised his voice: “Is it the Silver Queen of the Cruz people, the Emperor of the Empire commanding my loyalty, or the Dark Dragon of Mardos demanding it?”
Brendel’s response echoed and rippled through the manor, leading everyone to look skyward.
Even including the flame-affiliated knights, they needed to know where their honor and pride truly originated: Was it from their lineage and the inheritance of the Flame King, or from being the reformers of this world, correcting past mistakes?
But did the Cruz people truly qualify to inherit the glory of the Minren?
Aside from the Silver Queen, perhaps no one could answer this question.
Her Majesty herself fell silent for a moment.
She stood by her desk, looking at Brendel displayed in the crystal ball, with a calm expression:
How similar he was, a nearly identical face, the same stubbornness and tenacity, and in the furrow of his brows, one could still faintly see the charm of that person from the past.
But what she saw in this face went beyond just the impression of Darus; it also included everything she had lost.
Those memories drifted deep in her consciousness, belonging to a long-lost time.
“You have also accepted Odin’s legacy and fate; you should understand everything I see.”
“Therefore, you should comprehend who is right and who is wrong. What benefit is there to us in preserving the sages’ lies?”
“To maintain this false peace?”
She shook her head: “I have heard enough of such words. The Bud people say so, the dragons say so, the Silver Elves say so, and in the future I foresee, our world is so fragile that maintaining the status quo will not help us overcome the dusk.”
The wind blew from the other side of the mountains, sending a gentle rustling through the war-torn forest. This moment of tranquility seemed to tell something in every heart.
What the Queen witnessed on the battlefield of the final war was indeed the threat of dusk; Brendel understood. At that moment, he felt a voice within him whispering something, but when he listened closely, it was fleeting and elusive, impossible to grasp.
It was as if a whisper on the wind.
It sighed deeply; Mardos had long since perished, and a thousand years ago, that last ruler of the Empire made such a choice—
The Silver Queen awaited his response.
Brendel fell silent for a moment, then spoke again: “Respected Queen, you are supreme.”
“On your throne, a single decision on your part can influence the fates of countless people. Your Majesty, countless lives depend on you to live, and countless others may die because of you; it all depends on the word you utter.”
“I have no intention of changing your will; I just want to say that there are many roads in this world, and not every path leads to hatred.”
The wind gently rustled the treetops. Brendel felt a certain clarity in his heart. It was as though he heard the voice that lingered like a ghost amongst the forest, sighing:
A thousand years ago, the Emperor chose to end the hatred.
Thus he was called a fool.
Suddenly, a look of astonishment flashed in Andrigraphis’s eyes as she retrieved the Scepter of Fire from beneath her, the golden tendrils of flowing fire on the scepter brightening up.
Anxiety brewed in the air, with some unknown factor behind the world of laws beginning to stir.
In that instant, the winds in the forest began to intensify.
“Therefore Mardos would fail,” the Queen replied coldly. “Those seemingly beautiful lies are the tumors that spread in this world. While you listen to their sweet words, the bloody dagger has already deeply pierced your heart.”
Brendel shook his head: “Your Majesty, Mardos did not perish due to Odin’s choice alone. The reason he made such a decision was precisely because he saw no hope—”
That past Empire could not save this world.
But after a thousand years, had hatred truly been smoothed over?
The Silver Queen scoffed: “If Odin made this choice, then what was the outcome? A thousand years ago, he chose to end everything, and a thousand years later, civilization remains ensnared by hatred. What have the so-called sages brought us? The countries fighting one another?”
The forest near the manor was wildly shaking the treetops. The knights in the forest looked perplexedly at the sudden storm; summer had long since disappeared, could it really rain at this time of year?
Among the five extremes, only the inverse towerist, Siban, turned slightly, as if searching for something in the void, then frowned.
Brendel stood within this raging wind, his long hair flying as he spoke to the Silver Queen: “But at least the four sages ended the Minren’s harsh rule over the earth, Your Majesty.”
The Silver Queen snickered lightly, seemingly mocking Brendel’s naivety: “Harsh rule does not destroy this world, but dusk will. Don’t you understand? The time left for this world is limited, and the short-sighted cannot see the dangers of the future. If we let things be, we can only await destruction. I am saving them—”
“But what you have done only plunges more people into various predicaments, Your Majesty.”
The Silver Queen remained unperturbed: “Indeed, to return to the path of the past, countless lives will bleed for this, but it is worth it because we committed errors back then, and now we must pay the price.”
“Do you find this hard to comprehend?” Her tone became slightly contemptuous: “Descendant of Darus, you should understand that no one exists in this world in isolation. You say the Empire’s citizens will change their fate due to my decision, but what about myself and the citizens, haven’t we arrived at this point because of our predecessors’ decisions?”
“And it is precisely because everyone must pay the price for others’ decisions that our civilization can be established.”
Brendel stared quietly at the sky, looking at the ever-changing cloud patterns beneath the night; at that moment, a certain string in his heart appeared to resonate.
He saw countless shadows and entities before him, as if he was witnessing all of the past history that Odrefice had shown him, along with the illusions that existed in history.
He saw the Empire’s arrogance, two Empires now overlapping one another.
The wild wind carried away the fallen leaves, spiraling up into the night sky, swirling together as if they were a torrent in the heavens.
Brendel suddenly understood something.
“Lord…” At that moment, Andrigraphis suddenly called out.
He turned back.
In the sky, the Silver Queen shifted her tone simultaneously, commanding from a high perch:
“Descendant of Darus.”
“The manor you currently reside in is called Cold Dew, built one hundred and fifty years ago, having undergone several owners, but the one who lived here the longest was Lady Berisha.”
“That woman loved this place because from this manor she could overlook the entire capital of the Empire.”
“When the masses were beneath her, she saw those who inhabited the lowest rungs of the Empire—do you understand? Those lives were born to suffer due to disasters, injuries, wars, and various reasons, yet they did not comprehend where their sorrow originated, thus they often felt immense pain.”
“And we? Known as the nobility or rulers, we can clearly see our own weaknesses, observe how fate leaves deep imprints upon us, yet because of this, we too feel pain and sorrow.”
“But no matter how the twin goddesses manipulate the threads of fate, no matter how oppressive and suffocating this world may be, no matter how deep the pain, we continue to silently move forward—hence the Empire and civilization march onward step by step.”
“And this is our struggle; it is the true meaning of the path of the Golden Flame.”
“Do you understand? If we abandon those who cannot keep pace with us or allow them to sink into the illusory comfort of self-deception and escape, and even if we ourselves choose to escape all of this which cannot be chosen—”
“What will happen to this world?”
The Queen’s voice became cold and sharp: “When you choose to care only for yourself, in fact, you have already betrayed everyone.”
“The so-called nobility’s high-mindedness and detachment are merely a betrayal of their own class; what I see is not nobility, but indifference and selfishness.”
“And the tragedy of Mardos stemmed from the fact that the Minren nobility chose to flee at the final juncture. Odin abandoned their faith, leading to the unnecessary shedding of blood from previous generations.”
“Thus, he is a fool!”
The forest fell into complete silence, with only the wind passing over the mountains’ sounds remaining. The knights seemed to fall into contemplation, lowering their swords, their expressions reflecting deep thought.
The Queen’s majestic voice addressed them:
“So I say, my knights!”
“The Cruz people will not collapse because of a lost faith; on the contrary, it is precisely because my people are proud enough that they can face their errors.”
“And descendant of Darus, a speck of dust cannot obscure the brilliance of history; wiping it away will only make the Empire more radiant.”
The Silver Queen’s voice resonated across the sky:
“So my Empire, my people, do you understand your glory?”
“You are glorious for standing on the side of truth—”
The light in the eyes of those present brightened.
In just a moment, all the soldiers of the Empire present raised their long swords high.
But in the sky, Richard and Ruyer suddenly frowned.
The unsettling factors brewing in the air grew frantic.
Yet Her Majesty did not allow them to act; they could only wait silently.
Brendel observed the scene coldly.
For some reason, he suddenly felt himself become distracted. In this fervent atmosphere, he saw the winds in the forest gradually calming down.
And the Silver Queen’s voice also quieted.
The cheers of the knights also waned.
“Brendel…” Andrigraphis called out once more, sensing the Scepter of Fire in her hand trembling slightly.
Yet this time, Brendel seemed not to hear.
He lifted his head, having found his answer within himself.
“Perhaps you speak the truth, Your Majesty,” he began, “but there is a question.”
“You change everyone’s fate with unwavering confidence, but what if you are wrong?”
The Silver Queen fell silent.
Time appeared to stand still at that moment.
“Ridiculous.” Her voice was filled with disdainful mockery: “The sages proved this outcome with the fall of an Empire and a thousand years of time. Do I then err?”
……
Do I then err?
Brendel felt a sudden clarity in his heart.
Arrogance breeds within human hearts, but people often fail to notice.
They believe themselves to be born noble, superior to all; the Minren of Mardos perished in this way, and today history has repeated itself, tightly binding the fates of two Empires together.
Brendel felt as though he stood within a world of profound silence.
Yet within his heart, a voice was becoming unmistakably clear and certain.
It came from the mighty pulse of fate, gathering countless moments, fates, and voices.
Condensing into a single word:
Struggle.
The fervent blood flowed within him, roaring and surging, yet his heart remained imperturbably calm, silently observing the bizarre scene before him, his gaze seeming to transcend the shackles of time for a moment.
He witnessed Mardos’s downfall in flames.
Then he saw the Cruz Empire arise from the inferno.
The shifting of the new and the old was not due to some hero granting victory to his people; it was the intertwining of countless fates, all individuals participating, using flames to compose an epic.
Thus the Empire was born—
What it recorded was not the legend of heroes, but the struggles of each individual.
Countless individuals converged into the vision of history. Brendel’s gaze met theirs amidst the rivers of fate, his heart shaken to its core.
This was a magnificent hymn of praise, but it belonged to neither a specific person nor a sage.
Even a small individual like himself was equally part of it.
And at this moment.
Brendel finally understood why he had been resisted by the Blade of Flame; he gently shook his head, bitterly smiling at himself: “I once thought I never regarded myself as a hero, yet unexpectedly, such aspirations lay hidden within my heart. Odrefice, thank you for helping me recognize my own arrogance…”
At that moment, a voice replied to him.
That voice was filled with warmth.
But suddenly, another voice rang out, overriding the previous one: “Arrogance is the ambition of youth, heroism the romance of man. There is no shame in it—”
This voice came from a richly magnetic male voice.
Brendel turned back, astonished to see a tall man stepping out beside him, clad in a scarlet cape that blazed like flames behind him.
His long hair shimmered like pure gold, his eyes as blue as the clearest sea.
He wielded a long sword, intricately engraved with patterns of golden flowing flames, on which were inscribed small words:
‘Mots vissa tarsie—’ (The Flame Hammers Destiny)
That was indeed the Holy Sword Odrefice.
The man patted his shoulder, offering him a slight smile.
“Go for it; I am with you.”
