Chapter 209: Act 143 – The Hope of Gentle Words (5) (First Update)
The young girl’s eyes resembled dusty emeralds, concealing a deeply profound and breathtaking green, a life force spreading outward from within.
Her slender, seemingly malnourished hands held Antinna with one and Romaine with the other. She wore a gray linen dress, her bare knees and feet standing on the ground, biting her lip as she looked at him.
Brendel was slightly taken aback.
In his eyes, her long hair, cascading like a green waterfall, seemed like a newly bloomed wisteria, contrasting with her dusty little face that radiated a weak and timid aura—yet the young girl’s gaze did not shy away, merely observing him with a little caution.
“What is this?”
Those emerald-like eyes were a rarity in the whole world of Vaunte, found only in the purest lineage of the Sainya People—children of the trees. However, the long green hair flowing down to her waist was so striking that it almost led the young man to believe she was a divine messenger of a young sprite.
In the Amber Sword, he had only seen one NPC with such nearly pure green hair.
A messenger of the Tree God.
“Xi snatched her from those cavalrymen, perhaps she was taken from a nearby village,” Antinna replied, lowering her head to carefully tidy the girl’s hair in front of her forehead.
Brendel raised his head: “She is a Sainya person, do you know that?”
“What’s that, Brendel?” Little Romaine asked, blinking as she held the girl’s hand.
“Sainya person?” Antinna instinctively recoiled but hesitated for a moment before completing her task. The young girl paused, looking up at her with her emerald eyes; the gaze of the noble girl was somewhat complex—
There were many rumors about these ‘green people’ in several regions, one widely circulated belief being that these Sainya people carry the disease of beastification, thus most ordinary people are unwilling to associate with these ‘wild men’ of the forest, let alone the nobility.
In extreme regions, people even supported burning these heretics to prevent the beastification disease from spreading.
But Brendel lowered his head, softening his tone—like how the people of Vaunte habitually soothe children—and then looked at the young girl, asking, “What is your name?”
For the young man, there was no difference between the Sainya people and the Erluin or Cruz. Although during the war against the Dark Dragon seven or eight centuries ago, the Sainya people’s history had entered a long period of self-isolation by hiding in the vast southern forests—their backwardness was seen as a self-inflicted fate by the civilized world—this history felt more like an abstract symbol etched in the background to Brendel.
The young girl looked at him, slightly parting her lips.
“She doesn’t speak Cruz,” Antinna answered.
Brendel wasn’t surprised; he nodded and straightened up: “That’s okay, I roughly know where she’s from. But I’m a bit curious.” Antinna gently nodded, understanding his curiosity; ever since she learned the girl was a Sainya person, she too wanted to know why those noble cavalrymen showed such kindness and did not execute this Sainya girl.
Not to mention, in a barbaric place like Toniger, even in the kingdom’s heart, it was usually within the law for the army to execute a Sainya person.
Brendel stood tall, scanning the surroundings.
“We’ll take her to Viridien Village.”
“Viridien Village?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of place is that?”
“A Sainya village,” Brendel looked around, casually picking up a cavalry sword from the ground, weighing it in his hand before sheathing it, “It’s directly south of here, about half a day’s journey—”
“A Sainya village, what are we going there for?” The noble girl frowned slightly, quietly saying, “This little girl should find someone to take her back; Lord, Sainya people…”
She wanted to say more but saw Brendel wave his hand at her.
“Lord!” Antinna frowned in opposition, “But she is a Sainya person. If outsiders find out we’ve interacted with them, it wouldn’t be good for you—”
“Your reputation, my lord…”
The girl’s brow furrowed a little as she suddenly remembered that Sainya girl was still by her side. Even though she knew the other might not understand her words, she instinctively fell silent.
“No need, Antinna,” Brendel interrupted her, replying: “But that is exactly our destination.”
“What?” Antinna was taken aback.
The young man nodded, to find Valhalla, he not only needed to reach Viridien Village but also required the assistance of those Sainya people. Lady Martha had entrusted this little girl to him, which was a great help; although the Sainya people were isolated, they held a rustic affection for genuine friends typical of mountain folk.
To contact the Druids in the forest, he needed to go through the Sainya people—
Druids, Brendel thought, that was another group somewhat akin to the Silver Elves, perhaps even earlier. Their presence had already disappeared from the civilized world long ago, after the prosperous years (350 years ago).
“Brendel, who are the Sainya people?” Romaine, holding onto the little girl’s hand, asked again as her previous question went unanswered.
“That’s a long story,” Brendel smiled faintly, raising his hand to gently poke her nose—causing Merchant Miss to frown and retreat. Finally, the young man replied: “But the elves have a name for them.”
“At’zon—” Brendel said: “Children of the Forest.”
“Werewolf?” Merchant Miss widened her eyes in curiosity, “I’ve heard of them!”
Brendel lowered his head, noticing that when he mentioned the elven word ‘At’zon,’ the little girl reacted noticeably. She lifted her head, looking at him with eyes like green gemstones.
In her gaze, the depth of green was profound.
The Viridien Village mentioned by Brendel was likely an unfamiliar name for most regions in Erluin or the cartographers mapping the terrain. In the latest version of the administrative map ordered by King Obergo VII during the Year of Candles and Daggers, there were already over four hundred towns, villages, and manors on the kingdom’s land, but none were named ‘Viridien Village.’
Yet the young man knew this place.
This Sainya settlement on the border.
In fact, in the Year of Silver, which was about a decade later in history, the adventurers setting off towards the Karanjar mountains would depart from here. However, the scene back then was different from now—
They would ride through the fields opened by the Sainya people at the forest’s edge, seeing patches of land stretching along the stripes cleared through the forest. Gentle sunlight pierced through the tall black pines, casting beams down onto these people’s work.
It was quiet, as if in a hollow dream.
Brendel remembered that in his memory, it extended far beyond to meadows covered with grass; aside from this road stubbornly winding out from the forest beneath the horse’s hooves, all traces of human activity had long been swallowed by the passage of time.
His gaze crossed over those fields, almost able to see the riverbank behind them. He remembered that it was a habitat for the level thirty vine monsters, and the group had spent considerable effort to venture through that black forest.
However, the damage caused by the earlier attack from the noble cavalrymen brought him back to reality; he first noticed a broken fence, where warhorses had trampled through the fields, the crops knocked down haphazardly, resembling the aftermath of wild boars passing through.
“These despicable bastards,” a gray wolf mercenary muttered softly.
Most mercenaries like them came from mountain folk, either hunters or simply farmers. In their view, the lofty nobles certainly would not understand that these crops were everything for those who depended on them for survival.
Yet, as if echoing his words, a figure emerged as they rounded the fence—a woman, dressed in tattered linen, knelt on the ground, covering her face and softly sobbing before a field that had been destroyed.
And a man, seemingly her husband—was gripping a rake, frowning at all of this. When he saw a group emerging from behind the fence, he was slightly startled, then his expression changed, quickly raising the rake horizontally across his chest: “Yasha, run! They’ve come back!”
After saying that, he let out a low growl and charged forward.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to move further before Xi, mounted on her horse, swept him over with the long handle of her weapon. The red-haired girl frowned slightly, not expecting him to be so easy to fell; realizing he was just an ordinary farmer, she dismounted, intending to help him up. But before she could act, she suddenly felt herself being embraced—
The woman named Yasha clung to her from behind, crying while shaking her head: “Please don’t kill him, Yorl, you run!”
The man clearly had no such intention; seeing his wife holding onto Xi, his eyes reddened, and he let out a deep growl, charging once again.
The rumbling growl was akin to that of a beast.
However, he quickly felt a sharp spear pressing against his throat; following the spear, he looked up to see Xi’s cold, amber eyes, instinctively freezing and involuntarily shivering.
His entire body’s movements came to a halt.
“Fool,” Xi said coldly.
“Out of your depth.” She lowered her weapon, then flicked it aside—a flash, and a tall black pine fell silently to the ground.
Throughout the entire process, the onlookers from the horse remained still, as if spectators; even the mercenaries were not particularly fond of the Sainya people, except for Romaine, who blinked her eyes, still filled with curiosity.
The man seemed to just be coming back to his senses; he did not understand why Xi had not killed him. His legs felt weak, almost instinctively wanting to sit back down. However, just then, a tiny voice rang out from the crowd:
“Izz Jol!”
The man named Yorl was stunned, nearly unable to believe his ears. He turned around, incredulously looking at the little girl with long hair as green as a waterfall, cradled in Romaine’s arms, almost doubting his own senses.
Yasha, the woman behind Xi, had apparently released her hold at some point and, in a daze, asked: “Funiya, how, how are you here? Did they…?”
“Izz Jol, E sov oizz tam.”
The little girl softly replied, her voice ethereal, like a gentle breeze passing through the forest, making the wind chimes sound.
…
(PS: There was a bit of trouble yesterday, which delayed things. I didn’t even notify you, sorry.)(To be continued; for more chapters, please log on, support the author, support legitimate reading!)
