Chapter 126: Act 58 – After the Disaster
“Disturbance?”
Balthom sat on a sturdy tree stump—likely an elm or beech, a common type of tree in the Golan-Elsen region—with his feet resting on the gnarled roots, unable to suppress a sneeze. This seasoned mercenary rubbed his nose and looked up with an incredulous expression.
Nearby was an abandoned lumber yard on the outskirts of Bruglas, with sparse tree stumps scattered along the forest’s edge. Most of the timber came from upstream on the Pine River, where logs were intercepted to be processed. A corner of the lumber mill was hidden behind the nearby pine forest, and only a section of the building was visible from this direction.
The time was close to the first phase of the moon’s rise, the initial surge of magical power. This period of the day was referred to by the Mataratanians as the ‘Sleep of All Things’—during this phase, traveling mages could only utilize five types of cards: ‘Blue’, ‘Black’, ‘Gray’, ‘Cyan’, and ‘White’. Typically, they would set up defenses and lay down the groundwork for counterattacks at such a time.
As the silver crescent moon appeared above the pine forest, Brendel noticed the last few birds fluttering their wings as they passed through the dappled trees, and then silence fell—only the occasional call of a distant owl broke the stillness.
Bruglas City lay far to the north; standing at the forest’s edge and gazing northward along the gray hills, a brilliant light emerged, as though the stars from the sky had fallen onto the dark earth, weaving a splendid net of shimmering pearls—illuminated.
Brendel was not unfamiliar with this place; he had practiced swordsmanship here every morning during his childhood with his grandfather. For another soul, this site would eventually become a hideout for a local thief guild about seven years later—when the regent’s princess cracked down on illegal merchants, the underground auction market in the city would even be relocated here for a time.
However, that was a matter for many days later, so much so that the memory bore a faded pale yellow hue, reminiscent of an old photograph. What left Brendel feeling dazed was that he could not distinguish if that was a memory of before or after.
Antinna stood somewhat nervously in the night, dressed in a beautiful moon-white long dress. This was her first time visiting the outskirts of Bruglas at such a late hour; of course, even in her nobility days, she did not often participate in the outings of young ladies.
Antinna had always believed herself to be somewhat reclusive, yet she also took pride in thinking it stemmed from her broader knowledge compared to those narrow-minded young ladies.
She stared at the silver moon above the pine trees, feeling anxious in the dark forest, yet a hint of curiosity lingered—like the romantic notions of an adventurer rooted within her to pursue the unknown excitement, prompting her desire to remain with these people a bit longer.
This life was both novel and full of uncertainty for her.
Yet the lady still forced herself to set aside her youthful sentiments, took a deep breath to calm herself, and replied, “I suspect if Test is not testing us, then the Everything Returns Society is likely plotting something recently that requires us to draw the nobles’ attention. Of course, I think it’s more likely that both may be true.”
“That’s perfect, my lord! We’d best not get entangled with those demons in human disguise.” Balthom shouted from his stump, “That noble-skinned guy isn’t here; he can’t threaten us. Didn’t my lord say we should go to Rendener? Let’s go there with you! Get far away from here, and let’s see what he can do to us!”
Antinna, hearing Balthom’s words, glanced at Brendel. She only learned today that Brendel’s true identity was not just a high-ranking member of that recently renowned mercenary band, but also the mastermind behind it, adding a layer of mystery to the young man in her eyes.
What solidified her resolve was that Test, who had been secretly searching for her, turned out to be a member of the Everything Returns Society—an organization notorious on the coastal shores of Erluin, more complicated than just infamous, causing her face to turn pale at the mere mention of its name.
Although Antinna had considered whether Brendel might lie to her, this young knight seemed not to have any need to do so.
She soon saw Brendel shake his head.
Brendel’s gaze shifted away from his own attributes. With his rich knowledge and experience from the game, he had grasped the concept of the traveling mage class—or rather, he should say that traveling mage was not a class at all.
He observed that in his profession list, he still only had the identities of mercenary, militia, commoner, and scholar, indicating that the traveling mage itself wasn’t classified as a profession, nor did it qualify as a status or side job.
Brendel soon understood the implication of this existence: the core of the traveling mage was the destiny cards. It should be a vast and unique item system. Players could utilize this system to simulate and realize the abilities of any profession.
In simpler terms, this item in the game was a set of rules that bypassed the original framework. Though it appeared powerful, if every player could master it, it would hardly classify as an outrageous ability.
Of course, if only the geniuses could use it, why would it not exist in the original game but manifest in this world?
What intrigued Brendel was that this item system seemed to possess growth potential, and this growth was not confined to merely gathering more set cards but was closely related to the personal abilities of the holder. He found that when his warrior level was only ten, he had four cards in hand. But when he leveled up to thirteen, the number of cards had increased to five, and the red, gold, and gray elemental pools representing the knight’s card group had each grown by one slot.
However, at that moment, he heard Balthom speaking.
Balthom’s words could, from certain perspectives, be seen as Brendel’s own sentiments, but Brendel knew he couldn’t think like that right now. He was no longer that simple player.
He had realized that potentially connecting with the Everything Returns Society might be a beneficial decision for him. He certainly did not intend to conspire with those who disregarded human life; quite the opposite, what he considered was to play a game of undercover.
Thus, he shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Balthom paused for a moment and hesitated, “My lord, are you going to work with them? But those people are not good sorts; they’ve never had a good reputation.”
Antinna had originally wanted to say something but remained silent now. Brendel’s decision relieved her; in fact, she was going to remind Brendel—given the substantial influence of the Everything Returns Society, since Test felt secure letting him leave, there would surely be a backup plan.
She did not want the ‘Amber Sword’ mercenary band to establish a fierce enemy before even leaving Golan-Elsen. As Brendel’s aide, Antinna had unconsciously begun to regard this mercenary band as the private possession of the young knight.
“I certainly understand what kind of people they are, Balthom. But everything must consider the consequences. Since I proposed it to that guy, I wouldn’t tell a lie that could be easily exposed,” Brendel said to Balthom.
“So, are we going to incite those refugees to revolt?” Balthom scratched his head, somewhat reluctant.
“Of course not; Brendel will certainly have a way. We even call him the omnipotent Brendel back at Buche!” Little Romain, standing by the riverside, bent down to pick up stones for skipping. Hearing Balthom’s words, she couldn’t help but turn around to speak.
When did I ever gain that nickname at Buche? Brendel shot a glance at the girl, unable to help but think irritably.
However, Little Romain’s actions now brimming with dissonance against her attire and temperament—
She and Antinna had changed clothes; the previous outfit had been ruined in the chaos at the auction.
Romain hadn’t brought many spare clothes, so during the journey, Brendel bought her a few items from nearby merchants, which she had guarded like treasures. This time she was wearing a long dress from Antinna’s home—Little Romain looked particularly striking in the black dress with golden embroidery, her slender waist supporting the wide, luxurious skirt, only a circle of white lace petticoats visible at the hem.
As she walked, she carried a unique poise—full of confidence, head held high, chest out—her beautifully developed lines were accentuated by the fitted bodice of the dress. Antinna couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
Yet, Antinna had specially styled Romain’s light brown hair into an updo with floral accessories. As a result, when this merchant girl fox walked out of the room, she delightedly spun around for Brendel, sweetly throwing him a flirtatious glance, leaving him slightly dazed at the sight.
However, she now resembled one of those extravagant female merchants from Ampere Seale Harbor, yet none in such high status would bend down, roll up their sleeves, and expose their fair arms to seriously pick stones from the riverbank, searching for those that could skip further on the surface.
In fact, Brendel couldn’t quite understand why this girl would wear such troublesome attire out in the wild.
Of course, the likely answer would be: because I’m a merchant. Such a thoughtless response.
Balthom, hearing Romain’s words, looked at Brendel with confusion.
Brendel finally nodded, “Within half a month, the refugees gathering in the south of Bruglas will surely encounter problems. The upcoming celebration will only soothe them temporarily, but ultimately, it will just be a band-aid; those well-off nobles won’t understand.”
“Really?” This time, even Antinna revealed a curious expression.
Brendel nodded; the August disturbances were not a major historical event. Yet they would be sufficient to provide Test with an answer, and it would come with little effort.
Brendel wasn’t inclined to prevent the disturbances; besides, he didn’t have the power to do so. Providing living space for refugees was a challenging task, and the nobles were unwilling to take on the burden; no one could.
Those were thousands of mouths to feed.
Balthom opened his mouth, not expecting what he thought was a complex issue to be so casually resolved by Brendel. He couldn’t help but glance back at Antinna, who seemed vaguely worried—she did not share the bluntness of the red-bearded mercenary, whose head only contained the simplest lines of profit and harm avoidance; she always felt that Brendel seemed to know something more than each of them.
However, Brendel noticed Lohn coming from the dark forest with news, lifting his spirits. He had sent Lohn to investigate happenings within the city, and it seemed there were leads.
Indeed, Lohn and two short thieves emerged from the bushes and said to Brendel, “We’ve uncovered it; it turns out those wastrels were derelict in their duties, and those undead disguised as merchants entered the city.”
“Who?” Brendel asked.
“A cavalry captain named Kalan-Kadovar,” Lohn replied. He wanted to say more but stopped when he saw Brendel shake his head. Brendel recognized this Kalan-Kadovar, as he was destined to become the leader of the White-maned Legion’s Silverwing Cavalry.
“This guy is with the royalist faction,” Brendel murmured.
So that’s how it is—dereliction of duty might not be that simple. He couldn’t help but recall the embers from the auction; this matter likely had something to do with the royal family. All the events that transpired in Bruglas that day in ‘Amber Sword’ were later covered up; otherwise, Brendel wouldn’t have been completely unaware.
This indicated that there must be unknown forces behind it.
The royal family was indeed playing with fire.
Brendel pieced together the sequence of events and couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat. It was truly ingenious of King Obergo VII; wasn’t this inviting wolves into the fold? Thankfully, Instalung’s focus was not on Golan-Elsen; otherwise, if he took advantage of the moment, the situation in southern Erluin would likely turn disastrous.
Of course, a malicious thought crept in—perhaps King Obergo VII was intentionally leveraging the already dire situation in the south for his own gain.
(PS. No matter if you think this book may run out of inspiration or be abandoned, or if you have low expectations for this book, please stop following it. Visiting the review section from time to time is making me sick, even if it doesn’t bother you.
About the automatic save issue, I’m more accustomed to Notepad than Word.
Finally, let me stress again that those who have low expectations for this book can simply not read it, thanks for your cooperation!)(To be continued. For more details, please log in; there are more chapters to support the author and endorse genuine reading!)
