Chapter 241: Act 8 – Territory (2) (First Update, Please Subscribe and Vote)
“Not just important.”
Brendel said as he gently took the ring from Flour’s hand. He examined the intertwining sword-and-saber design on the ring, his fingers tracing the cool brass edge, feeling a slight sense of nostalgia—the Lesser Serpent Ring, the Queen Wind Ring, the Flame Ring, and the Warrior Ring—all positions in the triangular area of magical artifacts were now filled. He remembered completing this feat only during the year of the Saintly White Griffin (378 AB) in the past game. The magical ornaments in the Amber Sword were so rare that even those legendary RMB warriors would probably take three months to possess such equipment.
In contrast to himself, aside from the weapon he had on hand, which was slightly lacking, he had a bronze-grade shale longbow as a backup ranged weapon along with its matching Soul Arrows. He had amassed a total of ten magical ornaments, including the Rock Legion Necklace, the Flame Star, three necklaces, and four rings, as well as the Lionheart Medal, Elemental Bracelet, and three amulets—not to mention the Soul Gem and the black wooden statue he crafted himself. His inventory of magical items was quite abundant for this early stage after the first Black Rose War, from a player’s perspective.
However, it did make him a little regretful that he had never acquired a truly core piece of equipment—such as the Power of Mountains and Rivers, which could change a character’s class configuration. Nonetheless, he was fully aware that reaching this point was already something to be proud of, especially because of Flour being part of his team. With this thought, he couldn’t resist glancing back at the older sister among the Wild Elves.
“What’s the matter?” Flour asked, “Lord.”
Brendel shook his head without answering, slipping the ring onto his left hand’s index finger. After putting on the ring, the data on his retina began to change. The skills of Power Burst, White Crow Swordsmanship, and Front Breakthrough each gained an additional +1 level. Soon, they fixed into: Power Burst (10+1) level, White Crow Swordsmanship (5+1) level, Front Breakthrough (5+1) level. Among them, Power Burst gained a Master bonus after surpassing level ten, turning the attribute into a cost of three times the physical strength for the next action, granting a 10% and an additional 15 power boost. Meanwhile, both White Crow Swordsmanship and Front Breakthrough acquired Expert bonuses—Brendel swung his sword to the left, and the wind pressure whooshed away from the blade, but instead of forming a complete crescent like before, it scattered into a giant net. It surged forward, the giant net swept through the courtyard’s center, the scales-like shattered blades glinted as if refracting the light in the air, tearing through layers of air whirlpools, the sword wind swept past, and the two stared blankly at the tree, now a stark trunk riddled with scars.
The sliced leaves fell to the ground in a flurry.
“Damn, a wide-range attack,” Brendel cursed inwardly, “Why didn’t I know of such an abnormal sword technique before? Does Erluin’s court have such a legacy—”
“My lord,” Flour said, her eyes flickering as she held a notebook, “Is this a court sword style?”
“Just a coincidence,” Brendel replied.
He sheathed his sword but saw two figures, one red and one white, rushing over. Xi and Medisa had originally been resting in the adjacent room, but upon hearing the explosive sound of wind pressure created by Brendel, they arrived to see him and Flour standing in the corridor, slightly stunned. They exchanged glances, then asked in unison, “What’s wrong, my lord!”
“Nothing, just practicing swordsmanship,” Brendel answered.
The red-haired girl furrowed her brow as she looked at the tree in the courtyard, now bare. She had quite liked that tree as it made her feel a sense of inexplicable tranquility within the courtyard. Just like the leaf she wore atop her head, it always brought her a sense of peace. However, though she opened her mouth, she found it impossible to reprimand Brendel, and could only give the young man a slightly displeased look.
Brendel, seeing her expression, noted her dissatisfaction and said, “Perfect timing, Xi. Come with me for a walk.”
“Where to?” The red-haired girl loosened her grip on her long spear, slightly surprised.
“First to Firburh, then out of the city.”
“Just us?”
“About to include Crenshia and the others,” Brendel replied.
“What about me?” Medisa asked, pressing her hand to her chest, “Am I going too, my lord?”
“You stay inside, Medisa,” Brendel looked at her and shook his head, “The undead haven’t strayed too far, and I need to leave some people here to guard against them entering the city. Although the White doesn’t fight purposeless battles, the situation on the battlefield is ever-changing, and I must prepare for the worst. You and Charles can handle it.”
The Silver Elf princess didn’t seem surprised, merely nodding quietly before stepping back. Xi glanced at her, hesitating to say something, before lowering her long spear and walking to Brendel’s side. “So where are we going, my lord?”
“To the dungeon.”
“The dungeon?”
…
The dungeon of Firburh matched most people’s imaginings of such places—dark, gloomy, with the air filled with a rotten stench. Occasionally a rat, often larger than a cat, scurried across the uneven stone floor. Firburh Castle was established in the Year of Green, around two hundred forty years ago, at a time when Erluin was still coping with threats on the border. The purpose of constructing this dungeon was originally to imprison the barbarians captured during the war in the forest.
However, in today’s context, it was more often used to deal with those who could not pay their taxes. The impoverished, poachers, and minor nobles who had offended Grudin were all randomly charged with a crime—sometimes even that step was skipped, and they were thrown in here. Such dark and deep days in prison often lasted for several years. Erluin’s penal code was established during the kingdom’s most difficult period, and the provisions against the lower class had seen minimal revisions over several centuries, making it exceptionally harsh.
In fact, given the dungeon’s environment, many died from illness inside.
However, after a night of battle, Brendel had already ordered Antinna to release most of the farmers who had been imprisoned there for tax evasion. Therefore, the dungeon, which was usually overcrowded, seemed rather quiet at this moment. Footsteps echoed in the silence, occasionally clattering against the iron chains hanging from the ceiling.
Berun keenly captured the sound of the footsteps. “Someone’s here.” The old man steadied his breath—the footsteps were steady and powerful, maintaining a slow but even pace; they did not resemble the chaotic tread of prison guards. Besides, it seemed a new batch of prison guards had arrived since the night before. The new arrivals’ footsteps were not like that; they appeared more like soldiers emerging from the battlefield, composed and efficient, yet with subtle differences—his brow suddenly twitched.
The footsteps grew closer.
Having spent half his life dealing with soldiers, Berun had an almost instinctive sensitivity to those who bore a murderous aura. He heard the footsteps stop not far away, followed by clattering sounds in the dark—the other party was opening the door. That door led to this area, and the old man knew he was the only prisoner here; he couldn’t help but think, were they here to look for him?
His heart began to race uncontrollably.
With a clatter, the iron chain fell to the ground. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before a beam of light shone around the corner, falling at the entrance of his cell. Berun greedily stared at that ray of light, even though it stung his eyes to tears, he remained motionless. He couldn’t recall how long it had been since he had seen the light; since being captured, he had lost track of day and night.
Had the lord changed?
But what good people could the Rendener family have? He couldn’t help but snort softly in his heart.
But as the flickering torchlight finally shone in, Berun flinched. He hung his head, letting his disheveled hair cover his face, remaining still. After a moment, he heard a gentle young man’s voice, which struck him like a thunderclap, compelling him to lift his head. “Berun Hughes, Lord of Gold City, Royalist. I remember you were supposed to have died in the chaos of rebellion in Everton?”
The old man raised his head as if under a spell, his body stiff and ashen as he looked at this young man he had never recognized. The light from the torch was blinding, making him shrink back, but he couldn’t help but ask in a hoarse voice, “Who… are you?” His mind was a whirlwind. Brendel hadn’t made a mistake; he was indeed Berun Hughes, Lord of Gold City. Due to the royalists’ defeat in the last struggle, even the highest leader of the royal party, the ‘Earth Knight’ Duke Everton, was implicated and imprisoned, let alone a small character like him. At that time, he received a tip and fled the royal capital, falsely claiming to have died in that night’s chaos—but it was precisely because he wasn’t an important figure in the royal party that he escaped disaster.
Later, he arrived at the fringes of this kingdom, living under a false name, waiting for the royal party’s resurgence. He never expected that because of a minor incident, he would offend Grudin and end up in this dark prison. He thought he would spend the rest of his life here; after all, no one would care about a small character like him. Yet, he never anticipated that one day someone would call him by his real identity in this black dungeon.
Even Grudin didn’t know his true identity.
It wasn’t just him; when Brendel spoke, both Flour and Xi were surprised and exchanged glances. It was as if this young lord always brought them curiosity; the two girls were puzzled that there seemed to be someone everywhere he went. A person with vast knowledge could be said to have a good memory, and his interpersonal relationships were equally extensive. It was noteworthy that Brendel was only in his early twenties; to them, it seemed almost monstrous. Unless, as Antinna suspected, this young lord had a vast and unimaginable family backing him.
But Brendel merely smiled slightly, saying, “Who I am isn’t important. I’m neither a royalist nor Duke Anlek’s person,” he chuckled, “and it has nothing to do with the Rendener family either.”
Sitting in the cell like a beggar, the old man froze for a moment, looking at him with confusion. “Then who are you…?”
“You can consider me an independent faction, Master Berun,” Brendel took the water pouch from a mercenary behind him and handed it over to the old man, “However, my goal aligns with yours.”
The old man looked at him gratefully; this gesture from Brendel gave him some reassurance. He accepted the water pouch and took a sip, then asked, “What do you mean?”
“To restore Erluin.”
“Restore Erluin?” Berun looked at the young man with some skepticism, his withered hands releasing the pouch, “If so, why not join the royalists and lend your strength to the Corvado royal family?” He suddenly paused, scrutinizing the young man, “Or are you on the side of the Siphai family?”
Brendel shook his head. “I have my stance,” he replied, “and my ways of doing things. However, that’s not important. I’m here to ask you to join me.”
“What can an old man like me do for you?” The old man’s eyes flickered, keenly questioning.
“Master Berun, you are a master craftsman of Erluin, skilled in armor-making and forging, am I wrong?” Brendel inquired.
“Are you looking to raise private soldiers?” Berun’s expression darkened.
“Sort of.”
…………………….Separating Line………………….
Introducing the latest work from the immensely popular author, titled “Cao Thief,” with book number 1509007.
The Three Kingdoms, once again, the Three Kingdoms!
But this time, the protagonist is not the notorious Dong Feifei.
Alright, I admit, among the Three Kingdoms, I lean towards Cao Cao and detest Liu Bei and Sun Quan the most…
This book tells the story of a little Cao thief.
Not Cao Pi, not Cao Zhi, nor Cao Anmin…
Filled with the hot-bloodedness of rogues, it attempts to incorporate some new elements. No longer just about struggle for supremacy; it’s actually about hoping for a father to become a dragon, which is quite interesting.
A bit exhilarating, a bit whitewashed…
Hope everyone can enjoy this book and love the little Cao thief!
It is said: The Yangtze River rolls eastward, washing away heroes. Right and wrong, success and failure, turn to emptiness, while the green mountains remain; how many sunsets have turned red (to be continued. To know what happens next, please log in for more chapters. Support the author and read through legitimate means!)
