Chapter 203: Act 136 – The Dispute (First Update, Please Vote)
A deathly silence.
“Dad—”
The sudden call from the crowd shattered the stillness, the voice young and filled with tension.
The woman hurriedly covered the little boy’s mouth, raising her head with a pleading gaze toward the approaching noble cavalry. The man on the horse bore an expression mixed with feigned surprise and disappointment, though disdain flickered in the shadow of his eyes.
“Do you know this person?”
The man licked his lips, pointing at the bloodied corpse on the ground with his spear. His companions surrounded them, resembling a pack of hyenas smelling bl**d.
The woman hugged her child tightly, shaking her head in tears and helplessness.
“Let the little one speak.” The man prodded the woman’s hair with the spear tip, stating.
But the woman clung on even tighter, as if she were holding onto her most treasured possession, fearing loss. The people around looked on with pity but instinctively backed away.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“My lord, please let him go, he’s still small,” the woman sobbed in plea.
The noble cavalry sneered disdainfully, muttering “b*tch.” He raised his spear but found a woman wielding a longbow standing before him with her arms outstretched.
“Hmm?” The man, whose face was laden with flesh, froze momentarily.
Brendel quietly relaxed his grip on the sword hilt, recognizing that the one standing up was the same young woman who had distributed food earlier.
“Enough, what kind of cowardice is it to bully a woman!” The female archer shouted angrily, “I am the daughter of a knight, and I command you to stand down immediately!”
“Oh?” The noble cavalry was slightly taken aback, then turned to his companions, saying, “Hey, this little lady is a noble! What do you think we should do?”
The cavalrymen chuckled darkly.
“Where is your father a noble?” the man asked, his chin raised, looking down disdainfully.
As he asked this, the female archer’s companion realized the danger, “Faya, be careful—!” A swordsman clad in heavy armor, bearing a great sword, surged from the crowd, but it was too late. The leading noble cavalry had already thrust a spear into the woman’s abdomen.
The change was sudden and unexpected; the female archer could not believe that they dared to strike. She gasped in disbelief, staring down at her gushing wound—pain engulfed her immediately. The woman swayed, losing strength as she knelt and fell into the pool of bl**d, visibly on the brink of d*ath.
The man, however, retrieved his spear indifferently, as if he had done something trivial. Simultaneously, the noble cavalry behind him dismounted and drew their longbows, shooting at the adventurers among the crowd. In an instant, arrows rained down, causing several adventurers and civilians to drop lifelessly.
The noble cavalry were indifferent to whether they harmed the innocent. They efficiently pushed the crowd away to prevent a surprise attack.
“Faya!” The swordsman, filled with rage, swept away the arrows aimed at him with a single stroke, but before he could finish, another companion behind him also fell from an arrow.
“You bastards!”
The swordsman yelled as he cleaved his way through crowd, aiming for the leading man. The cavalryman raised his spear to block the swordsman’s great sword with a loud clang, coldly shouting, “Anyone who dares to strike out is against the lord!”
The agitated crowd fell silent instantly.
However, the swordsman remained silent, swinging his sword once more towards the horse’s legs. But the rider quickly jabbed down with his spear, sweeping it outward and knocking the swordsman’s great sword from his hands. With a swift horizontal movement, he sent the swordsman tumbling, then aimed the spear at his neck—
The disparity in strength was overwhelmingly in favor of the noble cavalry.
Yet suddenly, the corpulent noble cavalry felt a numbness in his hand, as if a tremendous force surged from the spear, nearly slipping from his grasp. With a clash of metal, the spear aimed at the swordsman veered aside, missing the latter’s neck.
“Who—!” The man roared in fury, turning to find not far from him a young man in a black overcoat, wearing a bow tie and a white shirt, with a pair of white gloves, retracting his longbow.
Then the young man raised his head, coolly staring at him.
The scene fell silent.
Antinna, Sanford, Husher, and Xi all turned at this moment, surprising to see their lord, knowing that Brendel was not one to seek trouble. But Brendel knew in his heart that he was not blind to all this; he was simply weighing whether it had crossed his bottom line.
Romaine, nearby, watched with interest, her bright eyes observing the man who had brought her out of Buche, as if admiring it from the side. She felt that only this moment truly belonged to Brendel. Perhaps, in a sense, she could understand certain thoughts and qualities of Brendel, for they seemed to transcend this world in a similar way.
From the moment she fled Ridenburg with the refugees, Merchant Miss understood that her Brendel was a true knight— a Brendel who charged forth, a leader, a deadly Brendel, and that fierce Brendel towards her.
She cherished every part of him.
Everyone turned their attention, as if in that moment their vision stretched, widening out; the young man in a black overcoat became the center of the entire street.
The man with a fleshy face narrowed his eyes slightly, seeing Brendel surrounded by well-equipped guards, an uneasy surprise filling his heart. As private soldiers of the nobility, they were not truly ignorant, unlike the previous noble girl who seemed to have faced little hardship — in his view, a simple-minded little lady representing nothing. Duke Toniger had countless deaths each day; could a minor noble really dare to seek justice in front of a baron? Yet this young man before him was clearly different. No ordinary noble heir would travel with such a large entourage, and every guard around him was strong, matching that of Erluin’s elite troops.
He was likely not an ordinary noble scion.
The man did not dare to slacken, swiftly retracting his spear. He cautiously inquired, “Your Excellency?”
As he spoke, the noble cavalry surrounded him, drawing their bows and aiming at the others, the cold glimmer of their arrows forcing hot-headed individuals to cool down.
“Let them go.” But Brendel did not even look at the archers, only coldly stated; it was absurd to think he or those beside him would be struck with Xi and Husher at his side.
Moreover, his own strength was also considerable. Since parting from the Silver Elf Choir Legion, he had been rewarded with the perfect scenario experience. Over two hundred thousand experience seemed to fall from the sky, smashing his mercenary level to twenty-five; after reaching character level thirty-two, his strength and constitution both broke seventy, and his agility exceeded forty, with his overall strength reaching a high silver tier. However, to reach the golden tier involved a profound understanding of the elements, requiring not merely improvements in physical quality but also high perceptual standards. Brendel calculated the averages, estimating he would need to reach an overall level of around forty to potentially break through the silver peak into the golden realm.
Nonetheless, even as an upper-tier silver, he was more than sufficient to cut down these noble cavalrymen effortlessly.
So he was too lazy to waste words on this guy; if it weren’t for considering Baron Grudin behind him, he would have already cleaved these inhuman noble cavalrymen a hundred meters away with a single sword.
“My lord, your words make it difficult for us,” Brendel’s coldness rather confirmed the noble cavalry’s suspicions. The fierce-looking noble cavalry adjusted his posture to one of humility: “These people may be accomplices of the outlaws outside the city; letting them go would be hard to explain to the baron—”
Yet even as he spoke, he still chose confrontation over cooperation. After all, they had killed a minor noble’s daughter, and if the news reached their companions, it could cause trouble.
Brendel coldly sneered, “Put away your tricks; do you think you’re speaking to whom?” The young man rested one hand on his sword hilt, staring at him, “I would k*ll you just as easily as I would k*ll a dog, and afterward, I would merely apologize to that fellow Grudin. Not killing you is merely out of respect for him, but my tolerance is not limitless—”
Finishing his sentence, he drew his sword halfway, the blade gleaming like snow, sending a chill through the crowd.
The noble cavalrymen fell silent.
Brendel spoke the truth; this world was harshly real. Between people, lives were no longer a matter of status or nobility, reduced to differences in strength. The only distinction from before was that the girl they had killed could no longer resist; innocence was precious but came at a heavy price.
The cold-blooded and ruthless men exchanged glances, ultimately choosing to show weakness. They nodded, and those behind finally released the spear pressed against the swordsman’s neck.
The swordsman seemed to want to resist still, but someone rushed from the crowd and hugged him. It was another companion of his, and Brendel saw that person whispering in the swordsman’s ear; after which, the latter finally calmed down.
He caught a glimpse of the shapes of the lips:
“Don’t cause trouble for others.”
Brendel sighed slightly. Truly a group of naïve individuals, but in such a world, that was a rarity. He watched as they quietly collected their fallen companion’s body, then parted the crowd, coming to his side.
“Thank you, sir.”
The first to express gratitude was a slender young man with a pale face, long light gray hair, wearing a monocle that hung at his ear. The young man was dressed in a gray long robe, and from the patterns on the cuffs, he was clearly an apprentice wizard.
An archer wizard? Brendel thought; there weren’t many wizards who practiced that school. The young man appeared polite yet distant, but he sensed a hint of restraint and anger in his eyes. Brendel glanced at the young man’s companions, which included a light swordsman and a female elementalist, both showing their grief and fury.
What a character, he thought, looking down at the courteous young man, unable to help but think this way.
“Do you want revenge?” he asked.
The young man was taken aback, looking up at him in doubt. Then the young apprentice wizard shook his head, leading his companions away from the crowd. Brendel watched their retreating figures, knowing full well that they would not remain content; they merely did not trust him.
Yet among such a naïve group of young people appeared such a character, which surprised him. He turned his gaze back to the noble cavalry.
“My lord, we have done what was necessary; now you must give us an explanation,” the leading noble cavalryman spread his hands, inquiring cautiously.
Brendel scoffed in disdain.
“Lord?” Antinna softly asked.
He nodded; now that he had intervened in this matter, a visit to Baron Grudin was mandatory. After all, they were on his territory; otherwise, being invited by force would not look good. It was better to take the initiative, allowing the others to have no doubts about his background.
Baron Grudin, huh?
Brendel mused in his heart.
……(To be continued. To know what happens next, please log in for more chapters and support the author in reading the original work!)
