Chapter 125: Act 57 – The Weights (First Update, More to Come)
Brendel sat in a chair, facing Viscount Test, his expression hesitant, but his mind was clear as a mirror. It seemed the Everything Returns Society was suspecting his relationship with the ‘Bronzesteeldragon’ Retao and his group. Although he didn’t know how this fellow recognized him, at least some information had reached these people’s ears.
Moreover, time had advanced much more quickly than he had anticipated.
Brendel knew that these wicked individuals’ primary goal was to overthrow authority; the state, the royal family, or the government were all their enemies. Their interest in Retao and his group likely stemmed from the Everything Returns Society taking notice of their influence among the refugees gathered south of Bruglas.
A hint of a smile crept over Brendel’s lips. Since this was the case, he understood he had gained some leverage. The weight in the hands of this viscount from the Manowell region was his life, while the weight in his hands was the hearts of the people the Everything Returns Society wished to manipulate in this region.
Which was more important was difficult to say. However, based on Brendel’s experience in the ‘Amber Sword’, he certainly wouldn’t expose his bargaining chips like a reckless rookie. He understood that his advantage lay in grasping the opponent’s bottom line.
Thus, he wouldn’t easily give this advantage away.
With this in mind, Brendel smiled slightly and took the initiative to lower his stance. “Well, you win—or rather, your sword wins, Viscount Test from Manowell. However, I haven’t had any dealings with you. Since you believe I am associated with ‘Bronzesteeldragon’ Retao, let’s get straight to the point—you want me to join you, but your objective should be more than just that—”
As he spoke, he discreetly gestured to his summoned creatures: to stay alert. This was a subtle tactic; Brendel knew his actions would not escape the opponent’s notice, but that was fine—there was a mental connection between the conjurer and his summons—Brendel intended for the opponent to see it.
Gestures could convey correct information as well as misleading hints.
Upon receiving Brendel’s signal, the two mercenaries standing behind the young noble exchanged glances with the others. They took down their battle axes and quietly approached either side of the door. These warriors were summoned from the cards, representing the concept of ‘Lubis’ mercenaries. They embodied all the virtues of these legendary mercenaries—unity, bravery, loyalty, and considerable tactical prowess.
Test pressed one hand against his rapier, his attention primarily focused on Brendel, but he didn’t neglect the others. When the mercenaries moved, he felt a slight stir in his heart and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
These mercenaries were indeed as formidable as rumored; no wonder they could carve a bloody path through the armies of Madara.
Brendel’s misdirection took immediate effect, and Test reluctantly fell into his thought trap. This only further confirmed that the young man before him had a connection with those mercenaries—and it was quite likely that he was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, as rumored.
His assumption was not wrong.
But the problem was that it was merely an assumption. As he deepened his trust in his hypothesis—yet in fact, Brendel had not said a single useful word.
The foundation of their conversation was built on the premise that ‘Brendel is the leader of Retao’s group.’
If Test were to awaken from this confidence, he would realize that not a word from Brendel could serve as evidence for this assumption. Brendel had merely taken advantage of this rumored viscount’s confidence and subtly turned the tide in their earlier exchange.
Brendel watched the opponent with some trepidation, fearing he might voice a counterargument—or even stab him directly. But in the end, he breathed a huge sigh of relief: it seemed at least some rumors from the ‘Amber Sword’ were credible.
This viscount was, after all, a sharp and self-absorbed person.
Test did not perceive that Brendel seemed to wield an almost ‘manipulative’ ability over hearts. Instead, he smiled lightly, a hint of appreciation gleaming in his glass-like purple eyes. The other’s willingness to admit his identity, in Test’s view, demonstrated a sincerity in negotiation. The Everything Returns Society had no qualms about promising favorable conditions—as long as absolute loyalty was provided.
“You aren’t entirely wrong; so what do you think our goal should be?” the young noble asked, lowering his sword casually as if taking his time.
Brendel secretly perspired, thinking that this guy was indeed difficult to deal with. He gripped the armrest of the chair, responding without a hint of agitation, “I think any normal person in this position would wonder what this person behind the scenes is trying to do. After all, with tens of thousands of refugees gathering south of Bruglas and the nobles reacting so sluggishly, these people are like a powder keg—ready to explode at any moment.”
“Well said,” Test praised. “And what is your goal?”
What goal do I have, other than finding a place to farm and upgrade my base, to be a leader of the farming party? Brendel rolled his eyes inwardly, momentarily unsure of how to answer this question. He cleverly countered with, “What is your goal?”
“I will do whatever the Everything Returns Society can do.” With a slight smile, Viscount Test replied politely. Few understood the true guidelines behind the Everything Returns Society’s ring of the Serpent, but many had heard of this organization.
In fact, the Everything Returns Society, as a notorious name, had already spread across the coastal regions of the abyss. The tragedies they caused in several places left people terrified. However, compared to the common folk who merely regarded this organization as the embodiment of a demon, in the eyes of the nobles, a member of the Everything Returns Society would likely be imagined as a devil exuding the stench of sulfur and spitting venom.
Because the actions of the members of the Everything Returns Society were intolerable to any traditional authoritative organization; they almost represented the most primal evil.
Brendel naturally understood this. However, he feigned a lack of understanding and chuckled, “So overall, we are not on the same side, but on this matter, we can reach an agreement.”
He answered insincerely.
Test turned back to look at the other mercenaries, who wore indifferent expressions. He trusted his eyes; even the faintest change in expression did not escape his observation, meaning those following this young man did not oppose his words—this proved that Brendel might not be lying in some respects.
Of course, Test must know these were merely Brendel’s summons, wondering if he should find a piece of tofu to slam his head against, assuming there was tofu in this world.
But he still pondered it over, not quite grasping Brendel’s meaning, “What do you mean?”
Brendel recalled a valuable adage he learned from his commander: ‘The best way to deceive others is to make them hear what they want to hear.’ This statement might not be all that profound, but Brendel thought that people would be deceived by beautiful women. His commander, a beauty among the ‘Amber Sword’, might have some insight on the matter.
As he considered these unrelated thoughts, he clarified his line of reasoning: “To put it simply, you are working against this nation, and so am I. But you are idealists, and I am an opportunist; it’s as simple as that.” He answered half-truthfully.
“Idealists—” The phrase made Test feel favorably inclined: “It seems we are indeed not on the same side, but I understand what you are saying. You do not wish to join us; you want to win us over, but the Everything Returns Society does not need allies.” He rubbed his thumb along the sword’s hilt. “Are you not afraid I’ll kill you?”
“Killing me, this old fool of a state, would only remove one of its many potential spies; it wouldn’t be a great loss. But if I am alive, we share a potential connection of interests. You might be able to obtain assistance from me, though, of course, it wouldn’t be free—” Brendel replied while sitting in the chair.
“But you must understand, the work of the Everything Returns Society is not to build a new kingdom upon the ruins.” Viscount Test said with a smile.
“Allow me to introduce myself, that is precisely my job. When the old system collapses, a new system must inevitably thrive on its decaying corpse; this is a certainty.”
One must say, being able to lie through one’s teeth without a flush is a rare talent, and Brendel showed that he was gifted.
“How bold,” the young noble could not help but clap in appreciation. “With various forces gathering in Erluin, local nobles are scheming for more independence, but I doubt they expected that at this moment, a mere young man would speak such outrageous words. I ask you, what do you intend to use to replace the Kolkov family’s centuries-long rule in this land?”
Brendel smiled confidently, though the smile barely concealed his unease. Test completely failed to anticipate that he was confronting a bluffer, and the preconceived notion occupied his perception.
“‘Gamblers never have absolute confidence in their victory’; when the rewards are substantial enough, what remains is simply a matter of courage. You understand, the factor of risk has never truly been tested in the hands of the reckless.” Brendel replied calmly with a merchant’s adage.
Had Romaine been here, she would wholeheartedly agree with this statement; however, she had no systematic understanding of it, much like a curious little animal that relies on instinct to detect danger.
“But if that’s the case, aren’t we then doing something futile?” Test crossed his arms, leaning slightly. The “we” he referred to indicated the Everything Returns Society. The Society’s purpose was to return to chaos, but Brendel had made it clear that order was continuously destroyed and refined within a cycle.
“Without any benefits, do you think I would engage in such activities?” he asked.
“When a country falls into internal chaos, civilization will decline; isn’t that your goal?” Brendel directly hit the nail on the head with his unparalleled understanding of the Everything Returns Society.
Test’s slightly changed expression reflected a stir in his heart: “It seems you understand us well.”
“I understand all my potential friends and enemies,” Brendel answered, speaking with double meanings.
He felt perspiration on his forehead, realizing that success or failure hinged upon this moment.
On the other side, the viscount from Manowell found himself unable to avoid pondering for the first time. His initially superior attitude had long since evaporated, and he felt that this young man was perhaps more formidable than he had imagined.
He did not believe Brendel’s words. However, Brendel’s certainty had grabbed his attention. His hand rested on the sword hilt, well aware that history had proven the perils of letting a tiger return to the mountains.
But what could this young man threaten him with?
“Actually, I have one more question. Have you been to Yusong Fortress?” Test finally raised his head, asking this question almost involuntarily.
Brendel’s expression changed; what he worried about most was that the other party might discover that it was he who killed the high-ranking member of the Everything Returns Society at Yusong Fortress. Although he had a natural advantage of only having mid-to-low black iron strength, making it unlikely for others to suspect him.
However, nothing is absolute; at that time, he had not noticed the ring, leading the members of the Everything Returns Society to detect his presence.
Before he had time to finish his thoughts, he saw a flash of cold light in Test’s hand, and the sword came thrusting towards him.
He discovered it? A chill ran through Brendel, and he instinctively activated his charging skill but quickly suppressed the urge to retaliate. Because after his speed was multiplied tenfold, he immediately saw Test’s sword—
Normal people would find it difficult to be as familiar with the trajectory of swords as Brendel was, but he recognized at a glance that Test was testing him.
Indeed, the glimmering rapier pierced the backrest of the chair beside him with a soft hiss.
Brendel still couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat.
“Mid-black iron,” Test murmured almost inaudibly, frowning slightly. “It seems you’re not that one’s match, but it’s strange; the timing is so coincidental.”
In this room, only Brendel and Test understood what he was talking about; Brendel remained silent, but inwardly lambasted the other for being a pervert, suspecting him of deceiving his strength at such a moment.
Test sheathed his sword and looked deeply at the young man: “Recently, how much trouble can you cause the nobles of Bruglas?”
He asked.
(PS. The debt is starting to be repaid.)(To be continued; for more updates, please log in, more chapters, support the author, support legitimate reading!)
