Chapter 167: Act 101 – Perfect Plotline
Perhaps it should be said this way.
The battle had not started, yet it was already over.
The high-ranking Black Fire believer of the Silver Upper was as helpless as a newly hatched chick before the Phoenix Guard’s elite elven heavy infantry, who had mastered the powers of elemental force. The Silver Elves, as a proud race, have always revered battle skills throughout their long lives. Their heavy infantry are not merely physically exceptional and well-equipped; when you face a warrior who has honed their combat skills for hundreds of years, you can only imagine how utterly helpless you must feel.
A glance, a subtle movement, could betray all your intentions in the eyes of the most elite warriors of the Silver Elves. Brendel found it almost laughable to see high-ranking Black Fire believers attempting to flaunt their pathetic combat skills before these elven warriors. Not to mention these poor fools; even with his experience, he would not dare to act recklessly in front of these true combat machines—for the Silver Elves, combat is an art, the ultimate pursuit of beauty.
Vulgar, so utterly vulgar.
The Silver Elves found it hard to believe that after hundreds of years, the servants of darkness had resorted to such crude fighting techniques against them. Seven centuries ago, the Dark Dragons, Minren, and other servants—who were the strongest enemies of all intelligent beings—commanded the most advanced civilization, the deepest magic, and the most astonishing combat skills. They never opposed civilization, as that brutal and dark rule had once represented the most advanced civilization in this world.
The battle skills of the dark denizens were once so intoxicating that many of their compatriots turned to darkness. They never imagined that merely a few hundred years later, they would regress to this point. No, this could hardly be called combat skills.
It was simply unbearable.
The Black Fire believers obviously did not anticipate that their final desperate struggle would provoke the ire of the Silver Elves. In fact, it was not just them; probably everyone present, except Brendel, felt shame for the views held by the Silver Elves at this moment. Yes! After the War of Saints, civilization did not progress but rather regressed. The supreme powers wielded by both sides in past wars had long become legends in myths.
But no matter how others thought, the outcome had already been decided in the briefest instant before the real battle began. In the blink of an eye, the Black Fire believers transformed into cold corpses on the ground, their dark blood gushing from the headless, icy bodies, spreading across the uneven forest floor like growing black veins.
The young man with white hair seemed nailed to the spot by an invisible force, his mouth agape, unable to utter a single word as he made choked sounds from his throat.
After a long time, a crisp sound interrupted the silence. Everyone unconsciously turned around to see the massive sword of the burly man from the Grey Wolf mercenaries crash to the ground with a loud clang, while he himself appeared oblivious, staring in shock at the elves of the guard, who were regrouping. Twenty enlightened Knights of the Temple, led by Martha, and Erluin’s national strength amounted to this!
The Grey Wolf mercenaries could not help but look at Brendel, overwhelmed by shock; who could possess twenty Knights of the Temple as bodyguards? Could it be that this young man was some prince of Cruz, merely passing through this place? Though this conjecture might be a bit absurd, it seemed more acceptable than twenty living Knights of the Temple appearing before them.
But while everyone was still in a daze, the red-haired girl suddenly ‘swished’ as she lowered her long spear, positioning herself between the elven warriors and the white-haired youth.
Her intention was clear; she did not want to see them kill Leidi.
The red-haired girl looked up, biting her lip, her expression serious. She already knew she was certainly no match for any of these elven warriors, yet even so, this realization did not lessen the fighting spirit in her eyes. She lowered her center of gravity slightly, leaning forward, assuming a stance ready to fight—like a female leopard about to pounce.
“Xi?”
This action was too familiar, almost making Sanford and the others think of the time long ago when the girl was willing to fight for any member of the Grey Wolf mercenary group.
“Xi, that guy is a traitor! Why do you still protect him?” the burly man could not help but shout.
“Only this time—” the red-haired girl gritted her teeth, shaking her head as if to toss the thought from her mind: “Only this last time, I can’t let him die here.”
“Xi?” Leidi was taken aback; even he seemed to see the figure of the former Xi in the silhouette of the girl.
“Get out of the way!” the red-haired girl shouted angrily. “Go find Lord Conrad!”
Leidi was stunned for a moment before responding, scrambling backwards.
However, Brendel watched this scene, surprise flickering in his eyes. His experience was extensive, and he quickly grasped the struggle of this ‘Crimson Knight’—a rejection reaction! This indicated that the girl’s own awareness had not completely vanished; her earlier words were entirely from her consciousness. Otherwise, how could a being as cold and unfeeling as a deity actively protect others? This meant that this deity was still a nascent being!
Realizing this, Brendel suddenly understood why the Crimson Knight Mirth had ultimately become a ghostly knight. He couldn’t help but silently commend her—what resolve! To dare to resist the invasion of the divine blood at the cost of her own existence, this girl really was something special. With this in mind, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of respect.
But respect aside, he could not let that disgusting egomaniac escape; Brendel was not someone who favored letting tigers return to the mountain. This guy clearly intended to settle the score with him; who knew if next time he would transform into some Ultraman to cause him trouble? Even if the other party lacked the protagonist’s aura, wouldn’t it be regrettable if Roman or the others around him were harmed?
He decisively gestured, the meaning very clear: knock that girl out, kill the bastard behind her.
The elven commander beside Brendel paused slightly, looking at the young lord in surprise for the first time. The gesture Brendel made was no simple matter; it was one of the commanding gestures frequently used by ancient commanders during the War of Saints. These gestures had undergone considerable evolution over the centuries. Nowadays, there were few who knew those gestures from seven centuries ago.
But surprise aside, the commander still maintained a cold face, promptly transmitting the order professionally.
Undoubtedly—
Attempting to escape under the ‘care’ of twenty Knights of the Temple was clearly a fantastical notion. Even if there was a golden-level entity supporting, the result would remain unchanged.
…
Barrogon, a relic from the era of the Silver Elves’ great retreat prior to the Year of Radiance—
The lizard-man commander Hyeugil occupied the largest hall in the ruins. In the past, this hall had been used by the Silver Elves for worship and important ceremonies, but like other buildings, after centuries of neglect, this once magnificent hall had fallen into disrepair. And perhaps out of some instinct or a sign of incomplete evolution—lizard men had not been able to rid themselves of some habits of their close relatives. Just like Hyeugil himself, who maintained a strong territorial sense—this hall was long deemed his personal property, and anyone daring to infringe upon it was challenging his authority among this group of lizardman bandits.
What Hyeugil took pride in was his own sense of aesthetics, which he had always admired. Compared to those foul-smelling individuals, he could clean this hall like a true civilized man—rolling out a red carpet just like it was hundreds of years ago, surrounded by various mismatched furniture stolen from who knows where. The arrangement of these pieces was haphazard, but Hyeugil especially liked this, as it was he who ordered his subordinates to bring these things to pile together.
For his daily enjoyment.
When Conrad and the Black Fire dark priest pushed open the door and entered this hall, the three let out a cold grunt simultaneously. The latter expressed his displeasure at seeing their annoying faces, while the former looked down upon the crass aesthetic sense of this four-limbed, simple-minded reptile; at least the mercenary commander couldn’t see any difference between this hall and a junkyard.
“Donald, I heard that—Matris—you died there,” Hyeugil adjusted the collar of his coat—a coat he had stolen from a passing noble, his wrinkled face filled with regret as he said, “What a shame, false news, that’s one.”
“Last warning, my name is Conrad.” The mercenary leader had no mood to correct the strange Cruz grammar the other seemed to have learned from somewhere, merely reminding the lizard to refrain from flamboyantly pronouncing his name.
“Doesn’t matter.” Hyeugil looked at the Black Fire dark priest behind him, with a smug expression asking, “I thought—wouldn’t come—you.”
Conrad coldly snorted, “You’re just making excuses to investigate the tomb of the Silver Elf king, while actually seeming quite pleased with being a bandit here, huh?” He looked around: “What you’ve taken, must be worth quite a bit, right?”
The lizard-man Hyeugil’s face deepened in a frown, stifling a shake of his head: “No, no. Doing proper business—I am.”
“Well, what have you discovered?”
“Discovered, a little. But—no much—progress.” Hyeugil shook his head repeatedly: “We can’t get close—to the surroundings—of the temple, but this thing—help me—can.” He stretched out a thin hand, shaking a necklace: “Wizard, I need some.”
Conrad and the dark priest exchanged glances; this lizard pretended to survey the tomb of the king while acting like a local lord, nearly everyone believed that. Unexpectedly, he was actually doing serious work here. But now was not the time to hurry this matter; the mercenary leader rearranged his speech and began, “That’s not the problem, but now we have something to ask you for help.”
“Once—I already helped you.” Hyeugil said displeasedly; he had already drawn the Grey Wolf mercenaries here, catching the attention of other adventurers around.
“There are benefits for you.” The dark priest whispered.
“Benefits—what kind?”
“A big fish.” Conrad’s expression turned serious.
…
With a dull thud.
Brendel forcefully grabbed the young man’s white hair, pressing his head into the dirt, making the other let out a cry. From the information revealed by Leidi, the truth had already become obvious. Though this was the result Brendel had least wished to accept, he had to acknowledge that the plot had already changed here.
They had their sights set on him—
Actually, he should have realized this sooner. Changing the steps to complete the mission naturally caused the entire plot to reverse. The previous plot had never mentioned the Crimson Ghost Knight or Leidi’s betrayal, nor did it say that the card mercenary leader Conrad would take the lead to Barrogon ruins. This meant the other party had entirely given up tracking Bu Jia, Makarolo, and their group, instead focusing entirely on his presence.
All this was due to that damned cunning fox deliberately creating a false impression. Although Brendel was furious, he also had to admit that the other side’s strategy was successful, causing him great trouble and significant frustration.
Antinna remained silent after hearing Leidi’s description; after a long while, she suggested, “Should we retreat temporarily, Lord?”
But Brendel waved his hand.
If they sought trouble with him, they had to be prepared to pay the price. Well, this plot seemed to be the so-called ultimate route of 100% completion. At this moment, he became calm and wanted to see just how powerful these strange Black Fire believers were. It was only a high-level completion plot; Brendel thought to himself, I’ve been through this before; I’m curious to see how Lady Martha plans to reward me for this completion level.
While he was fuming, Sanford cautiously approached and quietly asked, “My lord, what about Xi?”
Brendel turned his head and saw that the future ghost knight lady was lying on the side as if asleep, while a few elven warriors were guarding her—kill her? This was evidently impossible. Not to mention the new Grey Wolf mercenaries’ opinions, even he wouldn’t agree. That would be a joke; Xi had already established a connection with the Eternal Song card. If her fate became irreversible, the best outcome would be to end up like Medisa.
However, since she was a nascent divine being, and according to Leidi’s description, it seemed she was sealed by an inferior divine priest, perhaps there was still hope. Brendel wasn’t a madman who wanted to seal everyone into cards. If he could save this highly individualistic lady, he would be willing. Moreover, perhaps he might unexpectedly gain a subordinate with golden strength.
Thus, without much thought, he replied, “Take her with us; after all, she’s your companion, and maybe there’s still a chance.”
“Really!” Sanford exclaimed in surprise, then excitedly asked.
Brendel nodded, “I can only give it a try.”
The young man hurriedly nodded, fully aware that Xi’s current state was certainly abnormal.
“What about this guy?” Antinna looked with some disgust at Leidi, who was still pressed into the dirt.
Hearing this, the white-haired youth seemed to recover all his strength at once, struggling to lift his head, his face a mixture of dirt and tears as he desperately shouted, “You promised that as long as I spoke, you wouldn’t kill me—”
“I keep my word.” Brendel nodded.
He clapped his hands to stand up, looking at the Silver Elves beside him. “Commander, please assist us with this.”
…(To be continued. For the next part, please log in; there are more chapters to support the author and read the official version!)
