Chapter 218: Act 152 – Dawn (Part 5)
On the battlefield, a gentle gasp escaped the surroundings.
Noble soldiers and mercenaries halted, gazing at Brendel—the young man standing amid the army—with awe. The story of the copper dragon Retao had long been spread throughout the Southlands and even reached some areas in the North:
In the year of blooming flowers and summer leaves, this was the very year the Black Rose War broke out—
When Karasu was defeated, and the Vieal region was in crisis. The White Mane Legion collapsed on the flank, and Golan-Elsen’s territory retreated into a turtle’s shell. The Black Lord Instalung surged forward, making Rendener precarious.
The news of the defeat did not surprise everyone, but the kingdom’s subjects could not help but ask, Where is our army? Where is our victory? Where is our honor?
What answered them was a cold treaty, inscribed with the chilling fact that the Buche region no longer belonged to this ancient kingdom.
Then there was silence.
Yet in that silence seemed to be a faint voice. This voice told a story, softly responding to the hopes in everyone’s hearts—
In Ridenburg.
That was a flash of lightning in the pitch-black rainy night.
A massive refugee column was hastily advancing. They broke through the flank blockade of the “Black Lord” Instalung—killing the White Knight Aibodun, defeating the rotting cadaver Magus, Red Knight, and numerous pursuers from Gulu—like a legend, they separated the morning mist in a single night and appeared at the foot of Bruglas.
Leading them was the one known as the copper dragon Retao.
Thus, Bruglas was agitated.
The Southlands were also in upheaval; this fame even traveled far north; carrying the title of a miracle, it reached the ears of those lofty nobles or became a topic of casual conversation among citizens over tea.
Retao was called the one who brought miracles.
But now this undead leader, who personally experienced that war and was referred to as the ‘Grim Reaper’ in whispers, told them a different truth. Was there someone else standing behind the copper dragon Retao?
Cabais had no reason to deceive them and no need to. Especially as the tall skeletal general’s hoarse, wheezing tone harbored genuine admiration and anticipation, its yellowish soul flame flickering as if it could be seen as appreciation.
Was it because of this young knight before them? Everyone’s eyes unconsciously fell upon Brendel.
Why had he remained in the shadows all this time? If not for Cabais mentioning him, would his name ever be known to the world?
The mercenaries and noble soldiers could not imagine that anyone would refuse such a noble fame and honor; they certainly could not speculate on what kind of situation and choices Brendel faced at that moment. All they saw was the young man’s only response was a faint smile—
It was not rejection, but disdain.
Everyone instinctively inhaled, as if, in that instant, experiencing the realm of ‘having completed the task and leaving without a trace, deep-seated in anonymity.’ Who was he? Brendel said nothing, but a mysterious aura had involuntarily descended upon him.
For a moment, the battlefield fell completely silent.
Unfortunately, Brendel was unaware of what the others were thinking; otherwise, he would undoubtedly think it was fortunate. For in that moment, he was certainly not disdainful; he was just caught off-guard by Cabais having exposed him directly, keeping a commercial smile on his face while unsure how to respond.
“Crenshia, what are you standing there for?” he shouted.
The mercenaries were taken aback but quickly reacted. Medisa had leveled her spear, launching from the left flank, the unicorn knights like silver streaks piercing into the enemy lines, one thrust piercing the heart of a tall crusader butcher. The haphazard support they had barely gained was swiftly shattered, and the noble private army that had managed to hold their ground immediately fell into chaos, retreating in disarray.
Meanwhile, the skeletal general stood among the disorder, the flames in its eyes flickering.
Gluadin’s private army was not a match for these mercenaries; it was well aware of this. Unless they fortified themselves and engaged in street fighting, these human noble soldiers could not match the vengeful heart of the mercenaries, one fighting for money, the other for faith; the outcome of the battle was not hard to predict.
But the outer city had already fallen, and retreating to the inner city required time; that was precisely why it appeared here. There were not many undead within the city; it needed to concentrate these limited forces in the most crucial area.
Such as this place.
But Brendel understood this well.
He had once been a battle group commander, well aware of the noble private soldiers’ disposition, and was familiar with Madara’s habits on the battlefield; moreover, the comparison between enemies and the key shift in the situation had been planned thoroughly from the start— in short, they could not give Gluadin’s private army time to retreat into the inner city.
The young man pressed his lips into a tight line, clearly seeing Cabais’s thoughts in his eyes as if it were an open book.
The two stood facing each other amid the flowing armies without moving.
Yet Brendel was not anxious; Medisa leading the mercenaries could advance relentlessly, he could afford to wait, but Cabais might not. With hands naturally lowered, he watched Cabais in the chaotic army with confidence, waiting for the moment when the other side could no longer endure.
Conversely, the flame in Cabais’s eyes flickered again.
This young man was no ordinary adversary; when had Erluin produced such an outstanding commander? To Cabais, although the other stood within the chaos, it seemed as though he understood the situation on the battlefield thoroughly—Cabais did not know that Brendel had already surveyed the battlefield from a higher vantage point, and instead felt a deep foreboding.
No wonder that white guy personally ordered not to take his life; this young man’s keen perception of the battlefield could almost rival Lord Instalung. If he were in Madara, he would surely receive great favor from Her Majesty.
Thinking of that overlord, holding a mercury scepter in the darkness, Cabais felt its soul flame tremble, and a long-lost surge of blood returned to its body.
It was as if returning to the battle days of yore.
Memories pierced Cabais deeply, but also ignited its will to fight. Just as Brendel understood, this tall skeletal remains could not afford to linger; that elf knight sharing its aura was leading the mercenaries around it, and if it continued to stand, the situation on the battlefield would reverse.
Cabais gripped its battle axe but immediately felt a breath locking onto it.
“Thinking of making a move yourself, without summoning the unicorn knights?” Cabais thought, feeling slightly angered by Brendel’s arrogance; it had clashed with Brendel before and knew full well that the other’s strength was merely just entering the rank of bronze.
“I heard you are adept in Erluin’s court White Crow swordsmanship—” the undead general raised its head and said in a hoarse voice: “But young human, do you think mere mid-level sword arts can contend with elements from beyond bronze?”
Brendel smiled faintly at this, thinking if this guy knew not only about beyond bronze confrontations but also understood the combat methods post-elemental awakening and body restructuring, it likely wouldn’t be putting on such an old-man act and saying such things to him.
This was almost laughable; no, in his view, it could almost be seen as showing off in front of an expert.
But concurrently, Brendel initiated ‘Inspection’—a technique developed by the Silver Elves over centuries of battle. In that instant, a series of data appeared on Cabais’s body, alongside numerous white lines extending from it:
The torso and limbs were deep red, indicating that its physique and strength had reached at least mid-level bronze; the lower limbs controlling balance and the connections at the arms and waist appeared a lighter red, indicating lower-level bronze finesse. The soul strength coalesced like substance, and despite the will barrier fluctuating, it was at least at silver-level, while intellectual capacity could not be assessed; indeed, this technique couldn’t determine what specific skills the opponent possessed.
But none of this mattered.
In fact, as a special reconnaissance skill, Brendel now knew what particular abilities it had. He saw the white lines extending around Cabais’s body and understood these were the possible attack routes it could take.
Prediction, that was one of the most powerful capabilities of the inspection skill.
When Brendel first tested this skill, he could hardly believe his eyes; it was at that moment he understood why he had rarely heard the skill’s name in past games—’Inspection’ was likely about increasing hit and evasion speeds, as the game descriptions suggested gaining insight bonuses regarding these aspects.
Such a mediocre skill rarely got mentioned in forums, which was very normal; after all, most of what he knew were those very famous skills.
But here, ‘Inspection’ had been accidentally endowed with a completely different meaning: it detailed the opponent’s possible attack routes. Perhaps in past games, this had been an ability everyone possessed, but here, only ‘Prediction’ could achieve it.
Every movement was clear in my eyes.
Now Brendel understood that Naminez’s description of the Silver Elf martial techniques was no exaggeration. With this, combat power would naturally increase exponentially—before the opponent had even made a move, you already knew its direction; the significance was self-evident.
As Cabais took its fighting stance, the white lines extending from its body gradually decreased—five, four, three, finally stabilizing at three lines extending outward.
This starting posture was familiar to Brendel; it was one of the basic martial techniques of the Black Knights of Madara, and the judgment of the ‘Inspection’ skill matched his own assessment exactly: three possible directions to launch an attack.
The young man raised his hand, using White Crow swordsmanship to create a wind pressure on the ground; the spinning airflow on the stone tiles lifted a steel sword that had fallen, then it landed steadily in his hands.
“What’s said doesn’t matter,” Brendel replied, “No matter how loudly one boasts, it will ultimately come down to battle to determine who wins and who loses!”
Cabais let out a cold snort.
“Then let me meet your elemental power, young human.” It moved, and in that instant, the attack routes diminished from three to two, and from two to one—
Brendel was already on that route.
Cabais stood stunned.
……(To be continued. For more of the story, please log in; more chapters await, support the author, support genuine reading!)
