Chapter 22: Act 13 – Brendel’s Beginning
Not going to Qing Village?
That was impossible. Brendel knew some things that would greatly impact his future plans. Therefore, whether it was to stock up on food or verify that hypothesis, he had to make a trip to that village, which might already be occupied by Madara.
Thus, after a moment of thought, he coolly countered: “If I don’t go, do you know how to begin? Infiltration and reconnaissance aren’t trivial matters; they require meticulous planning and prior reconnaissance.”
Infiltration and reconnaissance used to be the forte of those who had trained extensively in the shadows, such as nightingales and hunters. As a warrior, Brendel didn’t know much about them, but he had still gone on missions and expeditions with such people. With just that memory, he could already be better than these militiamen.
Freya shook her head. She wasn’t unaware, but Brendel’s injuries were too severe: “You can tell us what to do, and the rest, leave it to us –”
Regarding Freya’s refusal, Brendel was not surprised. He knew at this moment he had to choose a persuasion method he was adept at. For example, the wisdom of a seasoned warrior: “Romaine.”
“Here!”
“Give me your sword.” He held out his hand to one side.
“Yes, Brendel.” Romaine offered him the sword with both hands, supremely confident.
“Thank you.”
Brendel took the sword, took a deep breath and tried his best to adjust his state to the best possible condition. He was in a weakened state below 40% of his strength, and the necrotic poison prevented him from skillfully utilizing another 20% of his strength. In short, the power he could use at most was 0.6 of his normal strength.
Approximately equivalent to a fourteen-year-old boy.
“Time is short. To prove that I am capable of participating in this expedition, let’s decide using an ancient and traditional method.” He drew the sword: “The warrior’s way of conversation.”
Our protagonist looked around and found that everyone had a look as if they had misheard. Bai be praised, in this current militia, Freya was undeniably the best in swordsmanship, even Aissen had fallen to her.
Brother here, are you really aware of how bad your condition is? This question arose simultaneously in their hearts.
“Brendel, don’t joke around,” Freya said angrily. She was very confident in her swordsmanship. If Brendel thought he could beat her in this condition—did he think he was a veteran of the November War?
Brendel remained silent, only making a ‘please’ gesture with his longsword.
The ponytailed maiden was so angry she almost fainted. She thought recklessness should have limits, but it seemed her thoughts were unfounded. She clenched her teeth and decided to give Brendel a lesson using reality.
Freya raised her sword and struck with a vertical slash without a second thought. Her fundamentals were excellent, the sword was steady, carrying a thin blade wind.
Brendel countered with his own sword, and the tremendous force responding on his blade almost dislocated his wrist. However, he quickly evened out the blade edge, adhering closely to Freya’s sharp edge as he slashed downward; the young man’s power wasn’t great, but it startled Freya—because even before she entered the attack range, his blade was about to reach her hand guard.
Though reluctant, the ponytailed female squad leader could only end her attack without success.
In fact, she suffered no unfair losses. This move was very famous in warriors’ swordsmanship, originating from Cruz’s battlefield swordsmanship, known in the game as the Cato Counter Cut. It was an advanced combat swordsmanship technique. Although currently Brendel could only mimic this skill based on the swordsmanship foundation of this body, it was already entirely sufficient to deal with semi-proficient swordsmen like Freya.
Brendel remembered how he had once traveled a thousand miles to learn this move from a mercenary, paying the price of two barrels of Madara bone wine.
Now, these two barrels of bone wine seemed well worth it.
Freya retreated, needing to counter the incoming attack from Brendel. She held her sword with both hands and pressed his sword aside with determination. Her reaction was quick but not smart, as Brendel had already stepped back. Realizing this, she looked up and saw his longsword pointing to her chest.
Freya gritted her teeth, struck with the hilt of her sword to knock away the tip of his sword, then retaliated with a sword strike. However, in Brendel’s mind, this sword strike had broken all discipline—only born out of sheer unwillingness to lose. He simply brushed it off, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground.
Dust flew.
“Looks like I’ve convinced you,” Brendel pulled back his sword and said indifferently.
Freya lifted her head, her face full of disbelief.
Not only her, but all nine members of the Buche militia present, except for Romaine who reacted as expected, no one failed to display a stunned look. Was that the swordsmanship of a militiaman? It could rival seasoned veterans of the standard regiments.
“How could this be?”
“This is not strange, I was the top swordsman in the thirty-third militia of Bruglas.” Brendel answered casually: “And then it’s you, Little Finnis, let’s solve your problem.”
Little Finnis looked alarmed and shook his head in a hurry: “I, I won’t go, you guys go ahead.”
This kid. Brendel couldn’t help shaking his head.
After agreeing on the time and place to regroup with the others, Brendel set off quickly with Freya and Aissen, time urgency pushing them to act fast.
Qing Village was roughly located east of Che Lake, not too far away, especially as they pushed deep into the region. Through the dense tree canopies, they could already see the gray smoke pillars on the eastern horizon turning darker— the sky was gradually darkening in the distance, and it didn’t look promising.
Based on Brendel’s memory and advice, they approached the area possibly occupied by Madara’s forces from the northern part of the village. It turned out his guess was correct; the undead army had just swept through, leaving only scorched earth behind.
Looking down at the village where flames rose among the embers and smoke billowed, even Freya’s last shred of hope was dashed. Madara’s army had clearly arrived before them, making their attempt to reach Ridenburg a lost hope. She couldn’t help but glance at Brendel, wondering what the young man was thinking.
But Brendel was hidden in a thicket, watching the skeleton soldiers pass by outside the forest, meticulously counting the trees in a nearby thicket—he counted to the twelfth tree, noting its appearance—
Qing Village, the twelfth beech tree to the south in the small forest. He clearly remembered that a key should be buried there. In the game, it was part of an independent mission that could access a tomb in the village.
He vaguely remembered who discovered the mission—it was probably a priest? But it didn’t matter anymore now because he knew it was a Holy Knight’s tomb, and if everything followed the game’s progression, there should be some good items inside. But his target was the sword in the tomb—the Dawnlight Pierce.
It was a sword infused with the Power of Light, and at his current level, it was equivalent to a smaller version of an undead slayer. Of course, for the legendary artifact behind it, he could only imagine.
After confirming this point, Brendel turned back and pointed toward the woods outside while speaking to the two people nearby: “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Aissen and Freya were both stunned.
“The number of skeleton patrollers, twice, four times— looks like there are two detachments of Madara’s forces in the village now.” Our protagonist answered skillfully: “Twenty-two to twenty-four skeleton soldiers, two necromancers.”
“So many!” Aissen was shocked.
“Not too bad, but that’s not the main issue. The main issue is that they have control of the cemetery and the square. The necromancers left behind will definitely use the Raise Dead spell there, thus receiving continuous reinforcements. This is the place we must be cautious about.” Brendel continued.
“That’s a desecration of the dead!” Freya clenched her fists in anger.
“Indeed, but they have the right,” he sighed, then pointed towards a nearby forest and said: “Do you see that farm? You can use the shadows of the fences and shrubs to sneak in. There should be a basement under the barn in that farm, not difficult to find, and it shouldn’t have collapsed from fire— you can hide there, and we will act when it gets darker.”
The girl nodded instinctively, but suddenly realized something was off: “How do you know?”
“I spent some time here.” Brendel responded casually, he hadn’t lied; just not in this world.
“Well, what should we do?” Aissen asked.
“Wait for me there. I’ll find you tonight. Those monsters will be focused on summoning skeletons and won’t bother you for the time being. But if they do notice you, remember to control your breathing and heartbeat— the undead can see your life force.” Brendel instructed point by point.
“Wait, aren’t you going to stay with us?” Freya quickly caught this detail.
“I have my own tasks.”
“You—” she was about to speak, but then saw the young man pat his sword, which meant—don’t forget you’ve already been persuaded. But how could that count as anything? Freya was about to refute, but Aissen pulled her back, signaling her to be cautious of the Madara skeleton patrols below.
“Do you trust me?” Brendel whispered softly.
Freya shook her head but hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.
“That’s settled. Go now. Don’t worry, I’ll be back safely.” He answered earnestly.
Freya glanced at him, wanting to say something but stopped. However, in the end, she unwillingly followed Aissen away. Brendel watched them pass through a vivid forest and hide in the bushes below, then followed a segment of fencing along the long meadow, and finally, they successfully infiltrated the farm.
Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
Brendel turned around and looked at the patch of short trees below. Instantly, a tension enveloped his mind. This would be his first adventure alone in this world. It might seem similar to the old days, but here failure means only death.
To say the truth, he would rather act together with Freya and the others, but how could he explain the existence of that key? He couldn’t claim he buried it previously, such a crude lie probably wouldn’t even fool Aissen, let alone the meticulous Freya.
After weighing the options, he decided to act alone.
“There’s no difference, old friend. Just think of it as starting over.” He rubbed his forehead and couldn’t help but give himself a mental pep talk.
…
(PS. It’s almost time for the next book, can we have three updates today?)
