Chapter 296: Act 63 – The King of the Underground (14) (Second Update) (Seeking Support, Not Asking to Be Ignored)
“Ah!” The girl beside Kewen exclaimed softly.
But on the other side, a glimmer of doubt flashed in Xi’s eyes.
The old swordsman advanced instead of retreating, raising his right hand to clash his sword with the enormous warhammer of Evarian for the first time. A piercing sound of metal ringing echoed through the entire arena, causing everyone to instinctively close their eyes and cover their ears.
But in the next moment, the boys in the cage were astonished to discover that Kuran had swept Evarian’s warhammer away with a single sword strike.
Everyone had only one thought in their minds: This is impossible!
Brendel’s heart raced heavily; he had long suspected that Kuran had been hiding his power, just waiting for this final blow. What truly surprised him was that only he and Medisa had seen the fleeting blue light on the index finger of both fighters at the moment of the counterattack.
Wind Bullet!
Brendel instinctively glanced at the same ring on his right index finger. Although the replicas of the Wind Queen’s Ring were widespread in Vaunte, was it really just a coincidence?
For a moment, he lost focus and missed Kuran stepping forward swiftly, knocking off Evarian’s helmet and stabbing it deep into his throat. By the time he came back to his senses, the dwarf lord’s body had vanished in a flash of white light. But the elder was not well off himself; his eagerness for immediate results had caused him to take a punch to the chest, and Evarian’s gauntlet was covered in metallic spikes. The impact not only penetrated and injured his lungs but also made his chest bleed profusely.
But what was truly life-threatening was the exhaustion of his stamina. After triumphing, the elder could barely hold on any longer; he had to lean on his sword, gasping for breath to recover.
Then Kuran pointed to the outside, and one of the cages containing the boys opened its door.
“Come out, Joeka, how did you end up here?” the elder asked panting.
“Captain Kuran?”
The boys were stunned; they were momentarily at a loss, not understanding why Kuran would save them first. They were unaware that this Chief of Security was not actually part of Brendel’s group.
The elder coughed heavily; his injuries were severe, and anyone else would have long since been dead. However, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which was stained with blood, yet he cared little about it.
“Alright, go stand aside.” He waved his hand at the boys, “This matter has nothing to do with you; I will question you later.”
Joeka and Mahler were at a loss for words. Although Kuran had saved them, they had been captured in two separate groups. Now Kewen and some of their other companions were still trapped in a cage—yet it seemed Kuran had only saved them to understand the reasons behind the entire incident, and the elderly Chief of Security did not appear to intend to engage in any further challenges.
In truth, everyone understood that the elder lacked the capacity to continue fighting.
Even though Mahler and Kewen often exchanged sarcastic remarks, the bonds among these boys ran deep. Asking them to abandon their companions like this was difficult for them to accept.
But what could they do? They felt powerless and could only stand there in confusion.
“You all go first, Joeka.” The slender boy’s face displayed little panic as he said this to his companion.
“Kewen.”
“Make leave as far as you can; I’ll find a way for the rest.”
“What way?” Joeka asked.
“I don’t know.” Kewen answered truthfully.
But Kuran paid no mind to what the boys were saying; he recognized Joeka and Mahler only due to acquaintance. In his view, they were just a bunch of idle delinquents from the town of Schafflund, not worthy of his attention.
“Mortal, do you want to continue the challenge?”
A massive and authoritative voice rolled across the arena—
“No!”
The elder rejected the next challenge, limping toward the edge of the arena, and loudly called out to Brendel, “How’s that kid from the Tobias family?”
Brendel looked over and shrugged.
But the elder walked over and tossed the sword in his hand to Brendel: “Here, borrow this sword—now it’s your turn. Let me see if that old stubbornness has passed on any skill to his descendant!”
Then he looked Brendel up and down: “You are his son?” He shook his head, “Not quite, is it the grandson? But considering your age, you’re just over twenty; to enter the Gold tier at this point is on par with that guy—”
“Like father, like son.” Kuran shook his head, as if lamenting his own lack of descendants.
Brendel nearly dropped the sword he had just caught at hearing these words. What did he mean by ‘to enter the Gold tier at this point is on par with your grandfather—’ He had never known his grandfather was a Gold-tier swordsman—no, wait!
According to the implication of his words, it seemed far more than mere Gold-tier status! He was clear about his situation; in just half a year, moving from White-tier to Gold-tier was due to an overwhelming advantage. But if his grandfather had reached Gold-tier around the age of twenty, he must have been an Enlightened One!
Brendel slapped his forehead; this information was difficult for him to accept. In his memories of this world, his grandfather’s generation had moved to Bruglas from another place; however, he did not know where they came from, nor had he ever asked.
He only knew that his grandfather used the money he brought to buy a piece of land in Buche, and then built a mill on the outskirts of Bruglas. Although they had no distinguished background, life had not been particularly tight.
Otherwise, a young man like Brendel would either be farming at this age or apprenticing somewhere; he certainly could not be carefreely living alone in Buche.
Now that he thought about it, his grandmother didn’t seem like an ordinary girl because she was literate and knowledgeable. His mother was from the Cardegle family, born into a local noble family with a far more prominent status—
To be honest, Brendel had often puzzled over how a noble girl would marry his father. After all, a mill owner, no matter how wealthy, would generally struggle to overcome the gap in bloodlines and status.
As Brendel contemplated this, he suddenly realized that the soul inhabiting his body had never really sought to understand its family background.
He suppressed his doubts and raised an eyebrow slightly: “Do you know him?”
“I dealt with him for a while; that old stubborn fool,” the elder replied, “Back then, I was just a young man about your age, having just come from Torg’s countryside. I claimed to be a knight, but I was just a wild kid. Your grandfather, however, graduated from a noble officer academy, a proper and formal background, no joke. At that time, I was his subordinate for a while—”
He wanted to continue, but at this moment, a loud voice from above interrupted their conversation:
“Next challenger!”
Kuran looked up at the arena.
Brendel also collected his thoughts. In one’s lifetime, one meets all kinds of people, yet often only a handful leave a lasting impression decades later, usually recalled by some subtle connection. He guessed that the relationship between them was likely not as straightforward as Kuran had described. Furthermore, he glanced at his right index finger, where the two identical rings deepened his suspicions.
Earlier in Buche, he had been puzzled that a replica of the Wind Queen’s Ring could never end up with a mere mill owner, and the subsequent inquiries he had made in Bruglas, particularly the peculiar attitude of Lohn, had also raised many doubts.
Yet this suspicion had been temporarily set aside but resurfaced before him today due to this elder’s reminder.
He looked at Kuran and thought as long as this elder was still there, he had plenty of opportunities to uncover the truth behind it all. It seemed that his— or more accurately, Brendel’s grandfather was indeed not an ordinary man.
Then Brendel exchanged a glance with Medisa. In his mind, he said, “Let’s go.”
The Silver Elf Princess replied in her heart, “Yes, my Lord.”
The two then walked side by side onto the arena, and as they did, the entire arena fell silent.
Two people? The boys were okay, but both Yuuta and Kuran were stunned; they knew Brendel and Medisa’s strength, which was at least above Gold-tier; this was clearly against the rules.
“You two?” the elder hurriedly called to them from behind.
Brendel did not respond.
And Medisa, of course, would not say a word either; instead, she quietly followed the young man to the center of the arena. Upon reaching, they stood still and waited in silence.
Kuran, however, was momentarily taken aback before he realized the Silver Elf Princess’s origins; he suddenly remembered that the elemental power Medisa exhibited during their battle was clearly ‘soul.’
However, in this world, only one kind of being would use souls as elemental power, and that was the undead of Madara.
Undead!
The elder suddenly understood, no wonder Medisa could disregard everything during the mountain collapse because the undead lacked the emotional capacity to fear. But why would this young man have an undead following? His first thought was of an undead wizard, but that clearly wasn’t correct.
Firstly, a Gold-tier undead wizard could not summon an undead of equal power, and secondly, Brendel’s eyes did not hold the purple or bluish flames that represented soulfire.
Kuran suddenly gasped. “Spirit Hero!” He immediately wondered if Brendel might be a candidate Flame Knight of the Temple!
Flame Knights were the strongest combat force of the Temple of Fire, belonging to the Level 11 hierarchy—each Flame Knight was accompanied by a soul of an ancient hero from the era of the Saints’ War, knights who once followed the Flame King Gilt—Cang Zhi Shi recorded that the Flame King Gilt had 232 knights, therefore the number of Flame Knights had never exceeded two hundred.
But he quickly shook his head; there was no Silver Elf among the knights who followed the Flame King Gilt.
While the elder was puzzled, the boys on one side were similarly whispering:
“It’s over.” Joeka sighed as soon as Brendel and Medisa entered the arena.
“Can you stop saying such negative things? It’s not over; they haven’t even started fighting yet!” Although unsure if the others would save Kewen, Mahler frowned when he heard his companion’s words.
“Have you forgotten?” Joeka replied, “If they exceed the Black Iron level, two people can’t compete together. What does that imply?”
Mahler was instantly at a loss; this certainly implied that Brendel was actually a weakling! They could not help but turn their gazes towards Kewen in the cage, whose face remained expressionless, while the girl beside him looked noticeably downcast.
“Damn, I never expected this guy to be a paper tiger!” Mahler said angrily. “All show and no substance; I thought he was impressive!”
“Aren’t you the one who kept saying he’s not strong, Mahler?” someone in the group whispered.
However, this remark naturally earned a fierce glare from the large boy.
……
(PS: Seeking support, not asking to be ignored; looking at those results, tears flowing down.) (To be continued. To know the next developments, please log in; more chapters await. Support the author, support legitimate reading!)
