Chapter 135: Act 68 – Brendel’s Swordsmanship (Part 2)
The silence in the hall continued. Brendel looked at the white-haired young man gripping his wrist with an incredulous expression, then glanced at the quivering longsword on the ceiling. He let out a breath. He wasn’t surprised by the outcome; after that last blow, Brendel had sensed that the young man named Leidi had power roughly four to five times that of an ordinary person, just entering the black iron tier, which was on par with him when he first ventured into the Golden Magic Tree Gorge.
Such strength at this age was exceptional, but naturally couldn’t be compared to his own augmented abilities. Brendel thought about the power he possessed; in this timeline, he could be considered to have an advantage—gaining level one awakening in a week, entering the middle of black iron within a month, and stepping into the beginning of silver in three months. Although he wasn’t a chosen one, he was still unprecedented.
As for whether there would be someone to follow after him, Brendel couldn’t say for certain.
The calculation from the past games indicated that one would start to enter the middle of silver around level thirty-five. With the inclusion of his militia level, Brendel estimated he would need to reach level forty, which required roughly six hundred thousand experience points. He had to accumulate enough experience within seven months, or he would miss the last bus for the December turmoil of Erluin.
While he was pondering this, he noticed the crowd parting to the sides.
Antinna let out a soft “Oh.”
Brendel was slightly taken aback as his gaze fell on two individuals at the back of the crowd. The man in front wore chainmail and a blood-red cape. He had a tall hat adorned with colorful feathers, resembling an explorer from the Royal Geographic Society of Lantonrand in Erluin—though the badge on his chest was not the Royal Society’s flame amber, but a simple wooden medal.
The medal was engraved with a kingfisher.
Behind him stood a taller man dressed in simple leather armor, covering only vital areas, leaving his muscular arms exposed. He carried a giant sword that was at least five feet long on his shoulder—his forehead was broad, and his cheeks were deeply carved like they had been cut with a knife. He pursed his thin lips, giving an impression of inherent authority without anger.
Brendel was momentarily stunned upon seeing this man.
Wasn’t this the guy?
A question arose in his mind—because this tall man, resembling a barbarian from the snowy highlands, instantly conjured an image in his mind: Barg of Crossed Hands from Arreck, the Grand Duke of Luun’s confidant, and the captain of the guards at Lantonrand Castle.
One of the three most famous swordsmen under Anlek, alongside the fierce eagle Dejyar and the silver knight Sylphy.
Brendel’s recognition came from the fact that this guy had been quite a notable figure in the past game. Barg of Crossed Hands, as the captain of the guards at Lantonrand Castle, was the initiator of Luun’s main quest “Courage,” and Brendel happened to be one of the few players who had personally experienced this quest line. In fact, he still vividly remembered that spectacular battle.
He recalled—
It was supposed to be the last step of the quest, where players needed to assist Barg in defeating one of the twelve High Priests of the Shepherds—the sorrowful emissary, Fenica.
The sorrowful emissary Fenica was at level ninety-seven, wielding the highest tier of the upper-grade element “darkness” and having almost perfected the bronze body. Back then, when players could only reach a capped level of eighty-three, the twelve High Priests of the Shepherds were practically unbeatable nightmares.
And the story had unfolded like this.
Barg, wielding the giant sword “Legendary Aiven,” charged into the Shepherds’ headquarters in the Forbidden Forest of the Luun Duchy, using the Xian style knight swordsmanship—he was one of the few legendary figures who could master this style’s level seventeen sword skill (with players capped at level thirteen)—and with just four strikes, he had killed the sorrowful emissary Fenica.
Throughout the entire quest, players acted as spectators, only needing to help Barg fend off minor monsters to buy time.
In fact, it was this battle that solidified Brendel’s resolve to follow the warrior path to the end. Initially, he was merely at level seventy-two, but he later became one of the few pure warrior players in Vaunte possessing a silver body.
Thinking back to that time, and seeing the still youthful and powerful Barg now, Brendel was momentarily dazed. He hadn’t expected to run into him here.
This was the future great swordsman Barg.
Of course, at this moment, Brendel couldn’t confirm whether he had achieved that terrifying strength yet. But in his mind, ‘Crossed Hands’ Barg had studied under the Xian style knight swordsmanship master at the age of seventeen, and soon after met the Grand Duke of Luun; how could he be in this remote place?
“How could he be here?” Brendel had only just formed this thought when he noticed that Barg’s gaze had also fallen on him.
“Are you using military swordsmanship?”
Barg’s blue-gray eyes glinted with a faint light; his eyebrows were sparse, and his eyes lacked luster. Yet, this future swordsman’s appearance was devoid of any alien features, though the aura he emanated clearly indicated one point—this seemingly ordinary man was undoubtedly a terrifying beast.
The more perceptive one was, the more they could sense this.
Brendel stood there, his 3.7 level perceptiveness roughly corresponding to being able to hear whispers behind a wall for an ordinary person and easily sensing the flow of air. But at this moment, Barg gave him the impression of being an enormous mountain, standing unmoving, even stalling the wind—
He could see that the other was simply a man standing there, but it felt like facing an impenetrable wall.
Brendel swallowed, slightly startled; in past games, one would need to be above level thirty to exude such an imposing aura. If that were the case, wasn’t Barg already awakened to the elements? So young? He was astonished, and Brendel knew that Barg wasn’t a chosen one, yet his achievement would shame some chosen ones.
Monsters were indeed monsters.
“Are you a soldier or a young man from some local security force? No militia should possess your level of strength.” Barg raised an eyebrow slightly and began to inquire. Brendel’s reaction did not surprise him. Up until now, in his imposing presence, only Aike among the entire mercenary group could remain unyielding.
That young man could indeed be called a prodigy.
Thinking of Aike, Barg couldn’t help but smile slightly. But as soon as that smile began to appear, it was quickly withdrawn, for Barg still fixed his gaze on Brendel—there were only three types of individuals in Erluin who practiced military swordsmanship: soldiers, militia, or security forces.
Knight nobles generally had their family legacy swordsmanship, whereas adventurers and mercenaries from various places, even those who had once been soldiers, would incorporate elements of their experiences into their sword techniques during battles.
The young man before him, however, was very much a product of a training camp.
Barg’s identity was unique, and he was quite knowledgeable about these matters.
But to his surprise, Brendel shook his head, “No, actually I come from a lineage of highland knights. I’m just out here on my own, without any attendants. You’ve seen it as well; I wish to temporarily join your ranks, as it would benefit both of us. I have no other intentions; if I have any thoughts, they are limited to this.” He considered it and chose not to directly mention Barg’s identity, fearing it might arouse suspicion.
The man beside Barg, wearing the explorer’s hat, smiled kindly at this response, “We are indeed happy to accept your proposal, but mercenary groups do not take on excess baggage; you should understand that, sir.”
Brendel glanced at Barg, realizing roughly what was implied. “I understand, so please go ahead and tell me who I will be fighting. I believe I have already defeated one person, and according to proper conduct, this test should not exceed three.” As a long-traveling player, Brendel knew the code of conduct almost as well as any scholar well-versed in this body of law.
Makarolo exchanged glances with Barg.
Then the tall man lowered his giant sword, replying blandly, “Then let me test you, young man.”
Just as anticipated! Brendel couldn’t help but take a deep breath; he looked at Barg’s gaunt face, not feeling anxious, but rather seized by an excitement. “Alright, I wonder how strong Barg is at this moment. Testing myself against this future great swordsman seems like a wonderful idea.” Brendel couldn’t help but feel eager.
He lifted his sword, feeling every cell in his body ignite.
By the time he became a level one hundred and thirty warrior, Barg had long passed away. In fact, one of Brendel’s significant regrets from back then was that before he had grown stronger, he never had the chance to spar with the great swordsman he looked up to, who had once been his idol. Although he had awakened a silver body as well, he ultimately still missed the opportunity to duel with this master swordsman.
Yet, he never expected that as time rewound to this moment, he would unexpectedly gain a chance like this again.
Although he wasn’t yet a superb swordsman, Brendel knew that his understanding of the warrior’s martial art wouldn’t fall short of anyone else’s. Just like at this moment, he felt like he had transformed back into his former self as a one hundred and thirty level seasoned warrior—Brendel lifted his head, his eyes shining as if ablaze.
The young man’s sword rose.
The level ten military swordsmanship at this moment was no longer merely a high-level foundational sword skill; the natural aura had instantly captivated everyone around them. This kind of aura, Brendel had seen in his grandfather. Of course, in him, this aura didn’t evoke a sense of breathlessness as if standing on the edge of a cliff.
But it was enough to shock the surrounding mercenaries.
“Master-level understanding, good, military swordsmanship.” Barg’s eyes glimmered slightly, “You are indeed qualified to fight me.”
(PS: Truly a twist of fate.)(To be continued. For more details on what happens next, please log in. There are more chapters; support the author, support legitimate reading!)
