Chapter 171: Act 105 – Luring the Snake Out of Its Hole (Part 4)
Four dragon hunters moved stealthily through the darkness, their faint shadows flowing like water across the valley. When the leading rider raised his hand high, the knights came to a sudden stop, neatly changing direction before dismounting one after another. Brendel placed one hand on the hilt of his sword, swinging his leg over the saddle made of an unknown kind of leather. As he landed on one foot, he heard Romaine, swaying on the back of the dragon, complaining to him insistently:
“Brendel, riding this thing is so uncomfortable—” The merchant girl said, supporting her neck with one hand and frowning. “It’s not exciting at all.”
Brendel smiled and walked over to help the young lady down from the dragon’s back, thinking it’s impossible for someone like you to stay interested—‘Our esteemed Romaine’ would certainly not obediently follow me; riding a dragon, which moved like a bipedal reptile with its spine twisting in an ‘S’ shape while advancing, would be challenging for any rider without specialized training. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have wasted dozens of experience points learning this skill from the lizardman captives.
He had fallen for that trick once in the game; he wouldn’t fall into the same pit again. However, seeing his female companion looking rather unwell made him feel a bit guilty, and he gently replied, “You should rest for a while.” After all, Romaine wouldn’t be able to contribute to the upcoming battle.
“Then I’ll take a nap—” Romaine jumped down from his arm and winked at him. “I’ll pray for you, Brendel.”
“In your dreams?” Brendel asked somewhat exasperatedly.
“Yes, in my dreams.” The girl nodded seriously, her bright eyes narrowing into a crescent as if she had won a small victory, and she glanced at him before turning to run off—skirting past Lubis, who was emerging from the forest. Brendel smiled inwardly; he liked that this merchant girl maintained an optimistic attitude regardless of the situation. Romaine’s first action that night in Buche had captivated him deeply.
Undeniably, she inherited Brendel’s affections, but this merchant girl equally conquered his modern sensibilities.
He took a deep breath, the cold air of the night seeping into his lungs, gradually calming his somewhat heated mind. The young man spotted Husher among the approaching mercenaries and, startled for a second, immediately signaled the seasoned mercenary captain with a ‘go back’ gesture: “Return and prepare; the enemy is less than five miles away! Move quickly, over two hundred lizardmen; I want all that experience intact.” Brendel didn’t like to waste words before a battle; he had already made himself clear—this was merely a small ambush.
Compared to past larger-scale team activities in the game, this was nothing.
“Experience?” Sanford, feeling dizzy while dismounting from the dragon’s back, caught only this confusing term. Husher glanced at the young man, smirking; in fact, he was no longer surprised by the peculiar terms that occasionally slipped from his lord’s mouth. It wasn’t only him; anyone who spent a bit more time with Brendel had grown accustomed to it and even learned quite a bit.
“I mean the enemies,” Brendel corrected himself seriously.
The silver elf commander glanced at him, a slight smirk flickering on his lips.
Brendel’s orders were quickly executed—
Once the group returned to the forest on the hillside, the young man began to devise tactics. Facing a swarm of enemies just above level twenty, Brendel decided to employ their most commonly used strategy from their past game experiences—divide and conquer. Together with Husher and the silver elf commander, he hid among the trees, watching the silver elf guards and mercenaries move into their designated positions— as the most professional warriors from the Holy War, the elves wore armor treated with a matte finish by seasoned elven craftsmen, ensuring they wouldn’t reflect the moonlight. The mercenaries mostly donned lightweight leather armor; even those in mail wore it painted black, alleviating his concerns.
The elves crouched in rows behind the bushes, one hand resting on their double-headed swords, and for the same reason, the swords were covered with dried leaves. About thirty feet behind them, the mercenaries nervously held their short bows or crossbows, not daring to make a sound. In truth, Brendel did not desire any casualties in this battle; therefore, he assigned the elf guard to be the frontline fighters while the mercenaries focused solely on ranged suppression and kills.
His instinctive action to minimize unit losses garnered loyalty from the new gray wolf mercenaries. Although Makarolo, once a ‘Maned Wolf,’ could repeatedly lead them to victory, as a noble-born commander, their common flaw was viewing the casualties of their subordinates merely as numbers. In Vaunte, where productivity far exceeded that of Earth’s medieval times, the abundant population meant lives were forever seen as expendable figures in the eyes of commanders during war.
However, Brendel, being raised in the game, viewed each NPC deployment as something treasured, often bought at the price of actual investment; many even earned through special quests. Each represented hard-earned resources which he couldn’t bear to waste as mere cannon fodder.
Of course, Brendel didn’t realize that his instinctive behaviors were already stirring the loyalty of the newly joined gray wolf mercenaries. He merely took out his pocket watch, estimating the time:
At most, there was still an hour left.
He exhaled softly, shaking his body to warm up a bit against the cold forest before dawn. Yet he couldn’t help but find it somewhat amusing; it was just another small battle yet he felt slightly anxious. Since joining Grace’s Divine Arms Guild and fighting against Madara, hadn’t he commanded three or four regiments? What grand scenes hadn’t he witnessed? Even before crossing into this world, he used to mock those timid beginners, never expecting that one day he would behave like a rookie participating in battle for the first time.
Yet, despite these thoughts, as his gaze traversed the forest splattered in pale gray moonlight, there was an undeniable rush of adrenaline flowing through him. This was indeed not his first battle in this world, yet how long had it been since he’d hidden overnight in a forest waiting for enemies or hostile guild members to pass by?
He watched as the ghostly green numbers continued to change projected onto his retina. He knew what that was; in the past, they called it a ‘distance plugin’ used to gauge spell casting and shooting distance penalties, yet at that moment, it felt unreal. Brendel paused, then pulled up his attributes to familiarize himself:
Strength 19.4 (+0.1), Agility 10.9 (+1.1), Stamina 21.2 (+2), Intelligence 1.1, Will 3.6 (+1), Perception 3.9.
(*Values in parentheses are sources of attributes from gear or other means and are included in total attributes—)
His attributes were nearing silver rank; Brendel was confident that one more level up would thrust him into that realm. But compared to his base attributes, his skills were evidently stronger. His current situation was far superior to his past life; the techniques of the White Crow Swordsmanship and power burst ranked among the top skills for combat-oriented roles in the early phases. Brendel couldn’t fathom how he survived in his previous life using only a few basic skills at over level twenty. After all, with his current experience and skills, fighting enemies of the same level was almost effortless. He had estimated his true strength; even without relying on those experiential tricks, he could achieve nearly mid-level silver status. Of course, if he applied his previous game experience, it was immeasurable. Against different enemies—he might even defeat those at the gold rank, but for particularly tricky ones, sometimes experience and skills fell short.
Thinking of this, he suddenly turned to ask, “Your combat skills are from the Sacred Grounds, right?”
The silver elf commander blinked in surprise, then looked at him with some caution.
“Don’t worry, I’m aware of your customs. I have no interest in your elven combat skills, just a casual question.” Brendel thought, of course, I’m interested; it’s just that your reputation is insufficient for you to pay me any mind.
“Even if I told you, you could not learn them. The combat techniques of the silver elves are tailored specifically for my people, human.” The silver elf coldly turned away.
Brendel scoffed internally, realizing that the one who seemed as cold as an iceberg on the surface was capable of speaking falsehoods. If he didn’t know, it would be one thing, but this silver elf commander was likely unaware that he had learned elven combat skills before, and not just one type. Yet the young man wouldn’t reveal it, merely smiling, “Don’t be so harsh; your name is Naminez, right? Did you fight in the Sacred War?”
The silver elf glanced at him, puzzled about how the topic had shifted, yet nodded.
“Then have you learned any dark combat skills?”
“No.” Naminez replied resolutely, casting a cold glance at Brendel, his lips moving but he held back. In fact, the only silver elves to have learned dark combat skills were those who joined the dark elf army under the dark dragon’s command. Although he suspected Brendel was deliberately mocking him, this silver elf commander reminded himself that the other party was likely just unaware.
Few people of this age would be privy to the secrets of that era.
However, Naminez was unaware that Brendel was one of those few. Although he himself didn’t know if his current state could still be considered ‘human.’ After all, a single body cannot harbor two souls, and strange numbers still appeared on his retina. Naminez fell silent for a moment before suddenly speaking again, “Do you genuinely want to learn, human?”
This time it was Brendel’s turn to be stunned; he opened his mouth, momentarily unsure how to respond. You really want to teach? Are you playing with me?
Brendel distinctly remembered how difficult it was to earn the reputation of the silver elves—
(PS. I’ve had various reasons for being unproductive lately and haven’t had the face to ask for votes. My condition has finally improved, and I’m humbly asking for some support; your support truly moves me. In just a few days, the monthly votes have increased by over 400, and 76 more friends have joined to sponsor.
According to international custom, I should list out and thank everyone, but I still haven’t figured out how others compile those lists. Therefore, I can only collectively thank everyone for their support here.
Though I cannot name each one, I have been keeping an eye on every friend daily. Thank you once again!)(To be continued. For more chapters and to support the author and read legitimately, please log in!)
