Chapter 306: Act 73 – The King of the Underground (24) (Second Update, Last Day for Tickets)
After a brief but intense close-combat battle, the atmosphere in the arena suddenly seemed to change.
Before Brendel could catch his breath and rise from the ground, the elder who had attacked him earlier—his grandfather—launched a surprise attack. The young man was so frightened that he instinctively tossed his sword forward with his left hand and withdrew.
He did not want to confront his grandfather head-on, not because Brendel held traditional values of respecting the elderly, but because the old man was truly terrifying.
However, he quickly realized that things were not as simple as he thought.
As Bud, Test, and Aibodun stood up, they no longer rushed to attack but cautiously synchronized with his grandfather, the four began to coordinate their efforts.
The battle seemed to stabilize and stretch out. Brendel soon discovered that since his grandfather had joined, the old man had dictated the tempo of the attack among the three, interrupting their fast assaults and instead leading the attack at a steady pace.
Brendel never imagined that a veteran who had only participated in the November War could be so composed while leading three top swordsmen in their assault against him—perhaps one could say, suitable?
It seemed as though this old man was a natural leader, making the others willingly obey his commands.
As the situation slowed down, it appeared superficially advantageous for Brendel, but in reality, the young man knew the bitter truth—this steady, methodical approach would ultimately leave him with no opportunities.
It merely prolonged his struggle, but ultimately, he would be exhausted and defeated.
Brendel, for a moment, felt overwhelmed; according to his view, he could not handle his grandfather alone. The old man’s swordsmanship was as sharp as he had seen in his dreams, flawless.
Yet his opponent did not rush, instead focusing on disrupting his counterattacks and offensive maneuvers. Every time Brendel tried to break through toward Test, his grandfather would appear, forcing him back—and often pursued him for an extra strike, retreating quickly if he could not gain an advantage.
But Brendel knew that if he did not address that pursuing sword strike with full force, what awaited him would not simply be a quick retreat but a deadly encirclement. What seemed like a straightforward strike was fraught with deadly intent.
Thus, he had to concentrate fully, dealing with attacks that at times seemed less dangerous, but under the surround of strong enemies became extremely perilous. The old man seemed to always well conceal his intentions, forcing Brendel to stay hyper-alert for every one of his strikes.
Even feints were no exception.
The young man quickly found himself in a painful struggle; while quick attacks had offered him opportunities, the prolonged steady assault felt like a dull knife slowly drawing his blood until death.
After several failed attempts to break through, Brendel’s movement range had been continually compressed by the four experienced swordsmen, and any further retreat would nearly be against an invisible wall. Yet, his opponents showed no sign of letting him breathe and pressed closer.
This time, it was Bud and Test who charged forward.
Though Brendel was not particularly afraid of this combination, he knew that his grandfather and Aibodun were right behind, waiting for him to walk into their trap.
This made the young man hesitant to fully retaliate, having to parry their potentially lethal strikes while slowing his retreat and holding back energy to guard against sudden attacks from Aibodun and his grandfather.
This intensely focused battle left Brendel feeling utterly miserable; he had to maintain complete attention at all times—the flow of air, the movements of the enemy’s muscles, even the slightest facial expression and flicker of emotion in their eyes had to be registered. Only then could he align this awareness with his prior understanding of various sword techniques—so he could accurately anticipate what each of the four would do next.
He had never done this before, and it was making him feel miserable, as if every cell in his body was groaning, his head felt heavy, and his movements seemed to become almost instinctual.
But Brendel did not realize that at this moment, his state was remarkably good; the sword techniques he had seen before and his understanding of swordsmanship were slowly reinforcing each other, gradually transforming his knowledge from another world into applicable skills in this one—
As if unconsciously, but he had already comprehended it.
One sword.
Two swords.
Three swords.
After blocking Bud and Test’s three strikes with a speed that was astonishing, his grandfather and Aibodun seized the opportunity to attack.
The onlookers gasped in shock, and even Xi couldn’t help but cover her mouth, her eyes wide in surprise—
Brendel didn’t think, he simply unleashed the remaining strength he had left. He swung his sword backward to block his grandfather’s strike, using the momentum to retreat, then performed the White Crow Sword Technique, the sand kicked up driving back Aibodun’s advancing attack.
As he landed again, he blocked his grandfather’s second strike.
Three swords again.
All of this transpired within a breath. Only after completing this did Brendel realize—he definitely hadn’t possessed such strength before.
Cold sweat broke out over him.
In all his years within the game, Brendel had seen countless sword techniques, but he understood that the swordsmanship from the two worlds was not the same.
After all, one was granted by the system, while the other was practiced by oneself.
The level of mastery was entirely different.
It was like Brendel understanding many sword stances, attack trajectories, and even tactics, but when it came to executing them, they amounted to nothing more than ornamental surface-level skills.
Yet those six strikes were entirely different.
Those six strikes amounted to him blocking Bud, Test, Aibodun, and his grandfather’s successive strikes within mere seconds—
“Damn!” Brendel was taken aback—because what he had unconsciously executed was not some original technique but the Flash Sword!
Not only did he recognize this, but Kuran outside also sensed something was wrong.
The elder had been frowning, feeling a knot in his heart. Brendel’s insights into sword skills were astonishingly good, making even someone his age feel envious.
The presence of Tubas and Bud on the field, although not at their peak, made Kuran think that, given their current level, he could not last more than two or three rounds against either of them.
Let alone the other two, whom he did not recognize but did not appear weak either.
This was purely a clash of swordsmanship.
Yet the surprises the young man brought him went far beyond this, especially when Brendel executed the Flash Sword technique—Kuran could hardly believe his eyes.
That was the ancient sword technique passed down from the fire dragon Bahamut to the Flame King Gilt! That was the legacy of the dragon race!
“This isn’t the Soul Imprint Sword Technique, nor the Wind Spirit Sword Technique!” a voice in his mind shouted, “Is this kid really not relying on the Soul Imprint? How could this be possible!”
“Didn’t Tubas tell him all of this? But the inheritance clearly lies within that young man’s possession!”
Kuran shook his head vigorously, dispelling these thoughts from his mind, quickly realizing a new problem: if it was without relying on the Soul Imprint, then how did his opponent reach the Golden Realm?
Was this what people referred to as exceptional talent?
…
While the elder wrestled with these thoughts at the sidelines, Brendel’s grandfather and Aibodun retreated, and behind them, Test and Bud rushed in with their wheel-like attack strategy once again.
The young man was now completely worn out, yet he could only retreat further; he was almost against the invisible wall now.
“Master, be careful behind you!”
Juliette noticed this and couldn’t help but shout loudly.
Brendel sensed behind him, and indeed noticed he had almost nowhere left to retreat. But as he looked around, what capability did he have to break through the siege?
Exchanging injury for injury might be possible, but he could not let his grandfather perceive his intentions; otherwise, it could turn deadly.
Brendel furrowed his brows, feeling that deceiving the old man was somewhat unrealistic.
But just then, he heard someone shout from the sidelines:
“Kid!”
That voice seemed so distant in his hazy mind, as if it had traveled from the ends of the earth. But Brendel understood, the only person who would call him that was the old chief of security.
He shook his head vigorously, unsure why the man would want to complicate things at such a time. Could it be he was trying to eliminate him opportunely? If so, he was gravely mistaken; since Brendel dared to challenge, he naturally had ways to protect himself.
It was just that this old fellow was diverting his attention, making that Earth Sword possibly vanish into nothing at any moment, which irritated Brendel.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself—he certainly did not plan to give up that sword. But at that moment, Kuran shouted again:
“What about your Soul Imprint, kid?”
“Again with this?”
Brendel did not know what the Soul Imprint was; he felt he did not even have the strength to retort. But Kuran seemed to know this, as he immediately yelled into the arena:
“Your ring, use your ring!”
He shouted while pointing at the Queen Wind Ring in his hand.
Brendel furrowed his brows, lifting his sword to guard against the approaching four master swordsmen, filled with confusion. The Queen Wind Ring? Did this old man not understand that in this arena, any equipment or non-swordsmanship-related skills were sealed away?
Thus, he had no intention of replying.
The elder paused slightly, seeming displeased with Brendel’s dullness. But he suddenly thought of something and said hastily, “Kid! Wait, I don’t mean for you to use it; focus and sense that ring—it’s real!”
Brendel was taken aback.
He instinctively turned around, looking at Kuran with wide, astonished eyes:
“What’s real?” his eyes seemed to ask.
“That ring isn’t a fake!” Kuran jumped up in urgency, “I don’t know how you got it, but that’s your grandfather’s, it’s real!”
He suddenly widened his eyes, “Watch out behind you!”
Brendel turned back, only to find that in the moment his grandfather seized on his distraction, he had already thrust a sword aimed at his back. Brendel could feel the chilling killing intent radiating from the swordblade.
Death seemed to be looming near him.
…
(PS: I have something to mention; basically, the main character’s equipment and data have nearly been organized. After the story of the King of the Underground is finished, I will publish it.
However, I plan to update the main character’s data in real-time every day after updates, but this raises a problem: how to publish this data.
One method is to include the character attributes in the relevant content daily, but this poses another issue that readers catching up later may miss the attributes from earlier.
The solution would be to release an attribute chapter every day, but the con of this is that the chapters related to the main character’s attributes may become similar to the updated chapters. Of course, this isn’t a significant issue, but it will be troublesome for searching.
Another solution is that after updating the daily chapters, I could add the main character’s attributes using added word count and might also include some background content related to the novel.
Of course, for these two solutions, I will hold a vote so you can choose for yourselves.
Lastly, yesterday’s two chapters were published in reverse order; I apologize for that. However, the order has now been corrected, and it can be read normally.
Lastly, I ask for this month’s and next month’s guaranteed monthly votes.) (To be continued. If you want to know what happens next, please log in for more chapters; support the author, support legitimate reading!)
