Chapter 215: Act 149 – Dawn (Part 2)
With a crack, the ordinary longsword in his hand shattered into pieces inside the sheath due to the overwhelming power of the Golden Level. Brendel paused for a moment, lifting the sheath to take a quick look before casually tossing it aside.
The blade fell into the ruins.
The young man turned his head, and the brown in his eyes reflected the varied expressions of the mercenaries. He held Funiya’s hand and spoke calmly, “I have come with my promise—”
“Do you remember what you said?”
The plain voice, but like a drawn sword, with a ringing sound, pierced through everyone’s heart.
The mercenaries opened their mouths but didn’t know how to respond.
“I remember!” Only a young man in a gray-blue robe excitedly burst through the crowd, nearly stumbling as he came before Brendel. He looked up at the young noble in front of him, his eyes flashing with disbelief.
He really came.
“I remember…” The apprentice wizard took a breath and quietly repeated, “I have come, Lord…”
Brendel glanced at him.
His gaze passed over him and fell on everyone else, every single one.
“What about the others?”
Silence fell.
“You…” The young man in the gray-blue robe angrily looked around at the others, wishing he could punch them in the face and knock them down for their cowardice.
Yet, there was still silence, a dead silence—
Brendel merely smiled slightly, a warm light reflecting in his gentle eyes, “If I were you, I wouldn’t choose to offend two lords at the same time—”
A crackling sound emanated from the ruins as soldiers wrapped in black robes rose among the debris; as soon as they stood, they immediately raised their swords and charged at Brendel with rigid postures.
Brendel waved his hand back; the first black-robed soldier that charged next to him was sent flying straight away. It exploded in mid-air with a sound, turning into a pile of broken bones that fell next to the noble soldiers who were wounded but not yet dead, desperate to crawl away.
It was as if a rain of bones had fallen.
All the noble soldiers were stunned, motionless—
The second skeletal soldier had already reached Brendel’s side, but the young man, without turning his head, grabbed the skeletal figure and stabbed it with its own right claw, pulling forward, disengaging the black steel longsword from its grip, and then using its wrist to throw it forcefully to the ground, shattering it into several pieces.
He grasped the black steel longsword with his left hand, spinning around for a strike.
A crescent-shaped white light.
More than ten skeletal soldiers behind him were simultaneously broken, halting and collapsing—
Brendel, with an unchanging expression, lowered his longsword and turned, facing the fallen skeletal soldiers. He looked at the ruins of the fortress and calmly said, “Now, I offer you this honor—”
The young knight raised his sword, the blade pointing down the street ahead.
“On this street, there are lost souls on the crosses, watching your battles silently. Are you willing to fight alongside these former companions in another way?”
At that moment.
It felt as if everyone held their breath.
No one spoke, but some turned their heads, some blinked their stinging eyes, and some silently gripped their swords. Indeed, nothing could move these mercenaries more than fighting side by side with their companions and trusting each other.
This was the only time, and the last opportunity to fight alongside these comrades.
I’m sorry, but can I still turn my back to you?
Comrades.
No extra words, only the sound of unsheathing swords; the young apprentice wizard let his hands droop powerlessly, almost unable to believe what he was witnessing, watching these mercenaries who had been silent just moments before—everyone now had cold lips pressed together, saying nothing, solemnly drawing their swords.
The sword is the life of a mercenary—
And also a promise.
The mercenaries stepped forward with a sacred expression, first one or two, then more, silently moving, the clash of blades and armor rubbing against each other. Each person stepped forward silently, quietly forming a line, standing behind the young knight.
Brendel smiled slightly.
He set down his sword, feeling a fire burning in his chest.
But with a cold expression, the young man spoke, “Three captains, step forward—”
The three people in the crowd exchanged glances and stepped out of formation one by one.
“Tell me your names.”
“Crenshia at your service, my lord, I am the captain of the Rose and Wine Mercenary Group—” the handsome middle-aged man with silver hair nodded at Brendel, responding lightly.
“Vurn, captain of the Fiery Ground War Group—” a dark-skinned giant crossed his arms, looking Brendel up and down.
“Juliette, the leader of the Mountain Swallow Mercenary Group. My Lord, I must speak bluntly; although I agree to join with my people, it does not mean I will follow every command; I will choose the way to act myself.” The one who spoke was a woman with a voluptuous figure and reddish-brown hair.
After speaking, she provocatively looked at the young knight with her emerald-green eyes.
Brendel laughed indifferently.
He replied, “I do not know your makeup.”
He looked at the beauty and said, “But the task I give you is simple. You and Mr. Vurn will each organize a team and stay here to rush and control the west gate; my only requirement is this—three hours, before dawn, I want to see your mercenary banners always flying over the city gate—”
His gaze fell upon the handsome middle-aged man, Crenshia with silver hair: “As for you, Mr. Crenshia, your task is to lead your mercenary group and the remaining freelance mercenaries with me—to attack Firburh Castle!”
“May I have the details?” Crenshia bowed, answering calmly.
“Wait,” the fiery-haired Juliette interrupted, frowning in disappointment, asking, “The west gate? Why are we going to the west gate? Isn’t our goal to take Firburh Castle and kill that damned scum?”
Brendel remained calm and replied, “Because that is only one of the objectives, but I might as well be straightforward; the enemy you will face will be a group of undead, the undead of Madara.”
“What?”
Undead?
The three froze.
“Grudin and Madara have colluded, but the Undead Army cannot hide within the city; there might be a small portion, but the main forces must be lurking nearby outside the city; I believe they can only be hiding in the forest to the southwest. Your mission is to stop them from entering the city until we complete our task—” Brendel said lightly.
Juliette and Crenshia exchanged glances, seeing hesitation in each other’s eyes.
Only Vurn replied gruffly, “Since my lord knows about Grudin’s collusion with Madara, then it must be jam-packed with experts nearby. Attacking Firburh must be the hardest task, so why doesn’t my lord choose us from the Fiery Ground War Group? Is it because you look down on our combat strength?”
Crenshia couldn’t help but frown at these words, his face revealing difficulty.
But Brendel shook his head: “I said, I do not understand your composition. However, since I have chosen this lineup, then—”
He turned back: “Everything will proceed according to my command.”
He raised his head to look at the distant street.
“Alright, time is short.”
“You need to make good use of this time, but remember my words, on one side is glory, and on the other is hell; I have given you the opportunity to choose, and I hope that when you look back at this moment in the future, you can feel at ease.”
“And not have the chance to look back at all—”
“So now, those who wish to gain this honor, follow me!” Brendel finished speaking, already holding Funiya’s hand and stepping on the crunching gravel forward.
The three captains sensed the cold threat in Brendel’s words, their hearts shuddering. The young girl looked up at him, blinking her eyes, and said word by word, “Brendel…Brother, actually…you…don’t have to…fight for…Funiya.”
“I…heard…grandpa and the others…say that as long as…Funiya…gets there, everything…will…be fine.”
But upon hearing this, Brendel simply smiled faintly.
“Funiya, you don’t understand, this fight doesn’t only concern you,” the young man replied softly; looking at the neatly aligned two rows of crosses extending into the darkness down the street, somewhat lost in thought: “But for me, choosing this path of iron and blood, sword and fire is the only way—”
And so it is.
When Brendel chose to return here to face all this, to confront all his own cowardice and avoidance; the road that appeared before him began to become rugged and difficult at this moment, as if leading to the flames of blazing fire, the path twisted with thorns, even flowing with blood—
But he still returned.
If the fury of the afternoon was merely a fleeting thought, then the choice between Funiya and the Sainya People gave him the final insight; like an unchanging truth, if one always chooses to evade, then he can only remain a loser forever.
The strong defeat others, but the strongest defeats oneself—
Indeed, he had considered simpler ways. If he chose to ignore everything he has advocated, he might easily find that long-desired territory, then hide his wings, absorb nourishment in the shadows and gradually grow strong, ultimately dominating everything.
But is that what he wants?
To gain power but lose everything.
Is that everything he desires?
Yet Brendel couldn’t help but chuckle, for he found himself preparing the most complicated plan in the end. He had avoided this outcome countless times, avoiding placing himself on the other side of fate’s roulette like a reckless gambler.
But after stepping repeatedly, he returned to the original spot, tightly holding such a plan in his hand.
Brendel smiled faintly; he truly wanted to follow Antinna’s plan, so stable, so simple; that noble girl’s choice was so logical.
“But…”
“Brendel, in the end, you are still Brendel…”
He shook his head self-deprecatingly.
But his gaze became resolute; since it is so, then let him execute this plan—if only for one chance! But just like before, as he was Sophie, that level 130 warrior, facing the thousands from Madara.
Step by step, moving toward success.
Or death—
Brendel turned around to see the young apprentice wizard closely following him from behind, as if the young man had rearranged his emotions, his face restoring that indifference.
“My Lord?”
“Did you hear that sound?” Brendel did not answer, only asked.
“What sound?”
“The sound of war—” Brendel took out a silver card from his pocket, replying lightly.
At that moment, the earth trembled, and noble cavalry charged out from the street corner—
(PS. One update today) (To be continued. For more details, please log in for more chapters; support the author, support legitimate reading!)
