Chapter 162: Act 95 – The Holy Covenant (Third Update, taking a break today, continuing tomorrow)
In the shrine of the Elven Goddess Saye, the dust-covered altar had been reopened after nearly two centuries—
When Brendel saw one tall elf after another, their expressions cold, with silver hair tied back and wearing winged helms and pure white silver-plated armor, striding down from the black obsidian altar, his heart was shaken to the core, leaving only one thought: heavy infantry! The Silver Elves were known as the strongest heavy infantry on the continent!
The Elven Imperial Guard—
Twenty Silver Elven guards appeared one after another from the altar, all of them nodded silently at Brendel before lining up along both sides of the altar. Finally, a faint shadow emerged in the center of the shrine, as if a ghost was slowly taking form. A sharp sound of clashing swords echoed, and the mercenaries behind Brendel drew their long swords. But Brendel was not anxious; he guessed what was happening and slightly bowed his head in acknowledgment.
Under the tense gazes of all present, the shadow gradually became clearer, features defining amidst the white mist, finally revealing a fully grown elf clad in silver robes, with silver hair and silver eyes, and even skin of light silver. He looked down with indifference at everyone. He was taller than anyone in Brendel’s group, even among the Silver Elves, he could be considered quite imposing.
This Silver Elf scanned each person present with a regal gaze—facing such a substantial presence, even the Husher instinctively lowered his head. Though he was merely a phantom, everyone held their breath, sensing the power of the figure before them. The first, and only, thought that crossed their minds was—this is one of the ancient rulers of the Silver Elves.
The Silver Elf pondered for a moment before asking, “Are you humans?”
Including Brendel, everyone nodded.
“Who is he?” Antinna could not help but whisper behind Brendel.
“It seems to be one of the Silver Elf’s ancestors, the first Silver Elf King Aisotan. I’ve seen his likeness in engravings,” Brendel spoke offhandedly. The holographic image of the eleven Silver Elven kings could be found on forums, so Brendel had no doubt; however, he could not express it outright, or else his identity as a trickster would be sealed.
Just as he finished speaking, the giant-like elf lowered his head to look at Brendel: “Do you know me?”
Brendel could only nod. What else could he do? The ancient monarchs of the Silver Elves all experienced the War of the Saints, from the chaotic times of the era of disorder. One must know that in that period, beings of golden bl**d roamed the land, and all clans were of silver descent, with powerful individuals emerging endlessly. Individuals like Medisa, who possessed first-tier golden strength at an underage, were astonishing in today’s terms but were plentiful back then.
There were those who had estimated the levels of various strong individuals from that time on the forums, concluding that the ranks of the Four Saints were at least level 180 or above, and the leaders of dwarves, humans, and elves at that time probably did not fall below level 150. As for enlightenment or elemental mastery, that was the basic requirement for warriors; below the golden upper tier, one was merely cannon fodder. In summary, it was a mythic age.
Of course, these estimates were derived from scattered resources, and there might be some inaccuracies, but Brendel thought that even if there were, the differences wouldn’t be too far off. Just standing here as a mere shadow, Aisotan’s pressure nearly left him breathless, knowing his experience was as a level 130 warrior, incomparable to kids like Romaine and Antinna.
The soul of King Aisotan pondered for a moment before speaking again, “Thank you for your assistance regarding that girl Medisa.”
“However, on the other hand, you have come here with a request, haven’t you?”
Brendel nodded again, thinking Medisa had said her agreement was sufficient, so why was Aisotan appearing again? Did that little girl deceive him? But Medisa had already become his summoning card; it seemed there was no finding her to settle the score? However, Aisotan paused before continuing, “Then what assistance do you seek, ancient ally?”
The Silver King’s voice was deep, as if he was not used to the modern Cruz dialect and thus spoke slowly.
But everyone understood the meaning of his words, and they were taken aback—was he so easy to talk to?
Yet Brendel understood the matter was probably not so simple. Still, he candidly replied, “I want to deal with the lizardmen bandits in the forest, which is also to fulfill Medisa’s wish. I hope to gain your assistance.”
“This is a struggle among the living, how can the dead intervene?” Aisotan asked.
Brendel thought, d*mn! Cunning and shrewd! But he still replied, “No, this relates to you.”
“What relation?”
Brendel raised his head, daring for the first time to stare directly into the other’s eyes: “Those lizardmen are probably connected to the Shepherds.”
“The Shepherds?” Aisotan asked in a low tone.
“After the War of the Saints ended, the Dark Dragon was forever sealed away. The Minren were driven to the icy wastelands of the north by our ancestor King Gilt. People say they were never seen again, but in truth, they have always existed.” Brendel spoke confidently: “They dispersed to blend into human society, calling themselves the Shepherds and the Silver Serpent, secretly engaging in activities aimed at subverting civilization. They are preparing for the return of the Dark Dragon.”
Antinna suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!” She looked at Brendel in shock; she, of course, knew of the Minren, but she hadn’t expected the Shepherds were the legendary dark children—she did not expect Brendel would know this, or that he seemed to already be aware of it. Wasn’t this very dangerous? If Brendel knew, then those high-ranking nobles also had no reason to be unaware; why had they never completely eradicated these organizations?
She certainly did not believe Brendel was lying; no one would dare to lie before an ancient elven monarch. But since the Minren still existed, then what of the Dark Dragon? Was it truly, as Brendel said, on the brink of its return again?
The last dark era, the War of the Saints, lasted nearly seven centuries and was a hellish time of chaos; she could not imagine the world regressing to such disorder again. Moreover, the golden bloodlines that fought against the Dark Dragon had nearly disappeared, and the Silver race was also declining. How could they, the children of bronze and black iron, save the world once more?
The noble young lady’s face turned pale.
Upon hearing Brendel’s words, Aisotan raised his silver eyebrows, “Are those remnants of darkness still active?” He sighed, “Gilt was too soft-hearted; I warned him in my time. It’s a pity this young man seemed to have not taken my words to heart. Nevertheless, perhaps it is precisely this trait that earns him the title of king among you…”
Brendel remained silent; Romaine, Husher, Antinna, and the others were left nearly speechless in shock. Finally, it was the younger sister among the Elementalist sisters who stammered to ask, “E… Elder Aisotan, you said King Gilt is soft-hearted?”
Brendel glanced at them, knowing why they were so surprised. King Gilt was historically renowned for his iron will and indifference; this emperor, who built human civilization, was one of the last saints of the Saint era and one of the Four Saints. Most rumors depicted him as cold-blooded in founding his dynasty and how he expelled the Minren to the harsh northern lands.
But Brendel knew that the history known to players was not like this, yet he would not elaborate.
To avoid the topic turning elsewhere, he had to interject, “The lizardmen here are actually also spying on the royal tomb. From Medisa’s words, they’ve likely been to the shrine more than once. Your Majesty, you have rested here for generations; I’m sure you have some awareness of what occurs around you.”
Aisotan finally nodded; he glanced at the two young wild elf girls. Although he recognized their elven identity, the Silver bloodline had dispersed too widely in the past, and he could not discern which lineage these two girls belonged to.
“So—”
Brendel replied, a confident smile quickly appearing on the young man’s face.
For the first time, Aisotan displayed a gentle smile, but this smile quickly faded, returning to indifference: “Although the dark beings can hardly breach Lady Martha’s sacred domain, the ancient holy covenant remains effective. We stand together in the fight against darkness, allied humans.”
“Thank you sincerely.” Brendel placed his hand on his chest and bowed. He had learned how to interact with these high-level NPCs in the game.
“Then what should we do?” Antinna finally worked up the courage to interject.
She glanced at Brendel, seeing encouragement in his eyes.
“My guard, I will lend him to you,” Aisotan replied: “In life, they were the Silver Elves’ most valiant warriors, and in d*ath, they vow to forever stand against the darkness. They will accompany you to clear away all enemies hiding in shadows. However, the altar is growing weaker; they cannot leave this area for an extended time, and finally…” he paused.
“Take good care of Medisa; she is a pitiful child,” this Elven monarch whispered.
Antinna, Brendel, and Romaine all nodded together.
But the noble young lady quickly turned back to quietly ask Brendel, “Does he trust us so easily?” She had expected at least some trials, but did not anticipate Aisotan to be so accommodating.
“Of course,” Brendel replied solemnly and quietly, “You do not understand the circumstances under which the covenant between humans and the other races was signed in their era. That agreement known as the Sacred Covenant involved almost no interests; it was purely a pact made for survival. In that time, the various races opposing the rule of the Dark Dragon were as close as brothers; otherwise, there would have been no need for that war to continue…”
“Are you referring to the War of the Saints?” Antinna quietly asked.
Brendel nodded.
But suddenly, he felt a jolt of awareness, furrowing his brow as he turned his head towards a direction. He quickly saw the same expression in Husher’s eyes; the mercenary captain silently conveyed to him, “Card resonance—”
… (To be continued; for more on what happens next, please log in, more chapters await, support the author, support legitimate reading!)
