Chapter 220: Act 154 – Dawn (7) (First Update)
“Elements?”
Brendel seemed unfamiliar with such elements, even though reversing causality, time reversal, and spatial dislocation could achieve similar effects. However, the first description of logic (causality) is: sequentiality, order, and time is only related to the relative motion of objects, making it impossible for the process of reversal to create a connection between self and other.
The manifestation of the elemental power at the golden level is inherently uncontrollable, and it inevitably acts from self to others; therefore, the element of time can almost certainly be excluded.
There are too many definitions of space; the element of ‘space’ alone holds several meanings, and there is a significant overlap with the time element. Order and stability seem like definitions describing space, but within space, there are countless sub-definitions—related to displacement, vectors, motion, and even matter and spirit.
However, one thing is clear: spatial dislocation is related to displacement and has no connection to stillness and stability.
As for those lower-tier sub-elements: the inevitability within causality, or optical elements, refraction, curved paths, or illusion-type elements cannot lower the temperature of the material world, let alone relate to order and stability.
Brendel felt someone approaching from behind, a faint fragrance wafting toward his nose, reminiscent of the scent of certain tree leaves in the southern hills of Erluin after summer had set in—he knew that Xi often carried a leaf from such a tree on her hairpin. Without looking back, he sensed the red-haired girl had come to his side; she gazed ahead and silently untied her sword—though rarely used—and handed it to him.
“Here,” Xi said.
“Thank you.”
As Brendel took the sword, he noticed the tall silhouette of Cabais rising from the rubble, clearing away the falling stones. The undead lord glared at them with deep resentment, uncertain due to Brendel’s elemental power. Its own element—the power of the soul—aimed to enhance its attack and defense, but it was completely suppressed against the young man’s eerie element; it dared not act recklessly. Although the mercenaries led by Medisa pressed forward in an assault against Baron Grudin’s private army, Cabais could only remain still, facing off against Brendel.
It had initially been confident of victory, but now it even feared that this unpredictable young man would take the initiative to attack. The skeletal figure pressed against its brass armor wound, unsure if it could truly withstand Brendel’s assault. It knew the situation was beyond changing but at least hoped to keep Brendel there.
“Defeat it?” Xi tightened her grip on the axe spear and turned to ask.
Brendel shook his head. He too was unsure; the elemental power was elusive and ungraspable. Cabais’s actual strength far exceeded his; it could afford the cost of making mistakes, but he could not. If he misjudged the element’s effect and allowed Cabais one opportunity to counterattack, the cost would be unbearable.
The young man had long put aside thoughts of life and death, yet he had to bear responsibility for more people.
Dying was simple, but it was the choice of cowards.
“That last attack was meant to force you out. I thought you could see that,” Brendel said, referring to the blow Xi had taken for him.
“I’m sorry,” Xi suddenly realized, looking at him in surprise. “You… you knew?” But she had clearly come alone, having distanced herself in the forest, not to mention her experience in hiding. The red-haired girl remembered him leading Funiya far ahead without looking back even once; she suddenly fell silent, glancing at Brendel with suspicion.
She doubted whether Brendel was trying to deceive her.
“I noticed when you left with me,” Brendel replied. “The vessel of divine blood.”
“Ah.”
The red-haired girl lowered her head, perceiving that this young lord was accustomed to controlling everything and doing as he pleased. Even with that likable Merchant Miss, he could scold without hesitation—let alone her. However, she had planned her actions alone and figured scolding was fine; after all, she was used to it—at least better than feeling unimportant.
She inhaled gently, suddenly recalling another possibility. He wouldn’t want to shift blame onto Sanford and the others, would he? The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed, and she couldn’t help but raise her head warily to watch him.
“What are you thinking now?” Brendel read a clear suspicion in the red-haired girl’s eyes.
“I do things by myself, I take responsibility by myself,” Xi frowned.
“Responsibility?” Brendel glanced at the unmoving Cabais, pondering whether it was him or her that ought to wait. But he was not in a hurry; he casually kept chatting with Xi. His nonchalant attitude made the red-haired girl feel that he would surely blame the Gray Wolf Mercenaries, and she couldn’t help but feel anxious, realizing her impulsive actions might bring trouble to others.
Xi bit her teeth, “Whatever!”
Although she was just an orphan, a girl raised in the mercenary group, she had heard many stories about nobility.
Brendel was momentarily taken aback, looking at her. The girl’s cheeks flushed red, even the tips of her ears burning hot, as if she had mustered all her strength to say, “Whatever… my lord, please just don’t cause trouble for them.”
“Huh?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Xi grit her teeth, asking.
“What?” Brendel looked somewhat confused. “Them? Who are they?”
“Sanford and everyone else.”
“Why would I cause trouble for them?”
The red-haired girl stared blankly for a moment, then lifted her head to look at Brendel with amber eyes, as if trying to discern the truth in his expression.
“Because—” she realized she had spoken out of turn but immediately fell silent.
Brendel suddenly understood what she meant, smiling faintly, “Given your personality, I would be surprised if you hadn’t followed me.”
“Really?” Xi asked, barely audible. She turned her head away, “You make it sound like I’m an idiot…”
“Not at all,” Brendel shook his head. “I just respect your choices.”
“What about the others?” the red-haired girl’s gaze flickered.
“Everyone has their own responsibilities and obligations, just as people can be willful, but they can’t be willful all the time,” Brendel replied. “I respect their choices too, but once made, what remains is the responsibility of that choice. Impulse can dominate a person’s actions temporarily, but the line between ideal and naivety lies in whether one truly understands what they need to give for it, and what they are willing to give.”
“Therefore, I assume you won’t choose to evade here, will you?”
The red-haired girl nodded, glaring fiercely at the shadow cast by Firburh castle in the darkness, “Hmph, if I were to shrink back in front of that scumbag, I’d rather be killed—”
“So our stance is the same—” Brendel smiled wryly, “We’re on the same battlefield, fighting side by side; why would I blame you?”
Xi lowered her eyelids, “But in the end, I’m still an outsider.”
Brendel glanced at her, suddenly realizing the girl’s thoughts. He certainly hoped she would become a subordinate, a golden-level combat force that would draw attention wherever placed. However, this was also good, gradually blending into this collective, making it more stable emotionally. He never intended to abandon Xi; coercing a girl using other members of the Gray Wolf Mercenaries was clearly not his interest.
So he merely smiled.
Silence fell on the battlefield for a moment. Brendel watched Cabais’s enormous bony claw grip the short spear—though from a normal person’s perspective, it was no different from an ordinary long spear. The fire of souls burned within the undead lord’s eye sockets as it remained motionless. The young man understood that it was determined to keep itself here. He abstractedly glanced at the battlefield ahead and casually said to Xi, “Xi.”
“Yes.”
“Go support Medisa, alright? I’ll handle things here—”
Xi nodded, lifting her axe spear.
She looked at Cabais amidst the mist, took two steps, and then paused. “You could have just ordered me—” the girl’s voice softly said. Brendel was momentarily taken aback and looked up, only to see that the red-haired girl’s silhouette had vanished into the smoke-filled streets. Brendel was momentarily stunned, then smiled.
He raised his head again to look at Cabais; both sides stood motionless.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Medisa was in trouble. As mercenaries continuously drove Grudin’s private army toward the inner city, their previously smooth momentum, buoyed by fighting spirit and combat strength, met trouble as they approached Firburh castle. This was the final defense line of the noble’s private soldiers, but standing behind the line were not only Grudin’s troops but also rows of skeletons gleaming with a faint bony luster, starkly white under the moonlight.
These skeleton soldiers were vastly different from those Brendel had encountered at Buche; compared to ordinary skeleton warriors, they wore light leather armor, wielded short spears, and carried short swords along with small round shields. Each bore three to four similar bone spears, standing still behind the defense line—but in previous brief engagements, they had inflicted significant losses on the mercenaries. Were Brendel present, he would identify these undead creatures as the elite squad of ‘bone thorns’ from Madara; these skeletons formed the assault division among low-level undead, serving as Tagus’s renowned guards—indeed, they could be considered ‘high-level existences’ among low-tier units.
In truth, if they were here, Tagus or a high-ranking general beside him ought to appear somewhere close.
At this moment, like a still figure before the Lady Knight, there stood a death knight draped in a black long cloak, wielding a huge scythe that dragged on the ground. Among the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, if any one of them could be called the strongest at this time, it would be the Green Knight, Malfoss, who served as the leader of the ‘Wolf Plague’ legion. However, the most intimidating and enigmatic one was undoubtedly the Black Knight, the just judge.
It lifted its head, and the expression on the metal mask—a half-smiling, half-crying face—formed a bizarre symbol, yet those golden eyes fell upon Medisa.
“Who are you?” Medisa frowned slightly, instinctively sensing the strength of her opponent after their initial encounter.
“Silver Elf,” the Black Knight White paused ever so slightly, its magnetic voice saying, “So you’re with that individual; truly inscrutable. Neither Viscount Gunsten nor Brendel of Buche—you claim to be a Highland Knight, yet even the Black Tower wizard couldn’t possibly know so much about Madara. To me, he seems more like an ancient——”
“Ancient?” The Silver Elf Princess was momentarily taken aback.
But the figure before her lifted its head.
Its eyes reflected a flame from the South, a magical signal soaring into the sky—
……(To be continued. If you wish to know what happens next, please log in for more chapters and support the author with legitimate reading!)
