Chapter 308: Act 75 – The Underground King (Part 26) (Second Update, Please Support!!)
“Kid!” Kuran patted the air wall—knowledge and skills are two different things; a person can memorize countless sword stances and offensive patterns—but that’s not the same as years or even decades of personal practice.
Kuran thought that even if Brendel were to ‘understand’ countless sword techniques right now, he would likely still struggle to execute them. He had a similar experience himself, but after decades of practice, he had gained valuable insights. He thought that with his reminder, Brendel might be able to overcome those opponents.
So he shouted, “Don’t worry about what’s in your head; I’ll tell you how to use what you’ve just learned—whose sword techniques are you studying?”
What the elder didn’t expect was that Brendel completely ignored him.
In fact, at that moment, the young man was feeling a bit frustrated; if Kuran hadn’t distracted him earlier, he wouldn’t have nearly failed. However, he understood that the other party was trying to help him and didn’t dwell on it too much. At this moment, he would definitely not make the same mistake again.
One, it was unnecessary; two, the enemy was already right in front of him.
With Aibodun and Bud in the front, his grandfather and Test behind, it seemed these projections were trying to use the same tactics to corner him again—this was a good approach, as Brendel felt his body gradually growing heavy—an omen of fatigue.
But the situation was slightly different now.
Brendel thought for a moment and selected the sword technique most suitable for his current condition from among the many. This technique was familiar to him; a friend from his past was a master of it, and he had practiced it a few times himself, but ultimately abandoned it because it didn’t align with his main route.
Yet the incompatibility back then, in this moment, turned out to be unexpectedly apt. Brendel slightly shook the tip of his sword and entered a state with a very familiar starting gesture.
“Kid!” The woman’s voice was slightly surprised in his heart; it seemed that a sword technique he had never come into contact with had him looking quite skilled from the start, which was no simple feat.
“What?” At that very moment, Brendel’s mind was serene, as if answering from the perspective of an observer.
“Your swordsmanship talent is truly enviable. The only one comparable to you must be that guy,” the woman sighed, her slightly melancholic tone softening one’s heart.
Brendel didn’t know who that guy she mentioned was, but based on the elf’s characteristic indifference, it could very well be the King of Flames, Gilt. In his knowledge, Gilt had been labeled a genius at a young age, and during the Age of Saints, when stars shone, that title wasn’t as diluted as it is now.
His thoughts were vague, yet the sword tip pointed at the enemy remained unmoving. At this moment, Brendel felt a clear sense, as if he was being split into two—
One self was about to engage the enemy; the other self was calmly thinking through everything. The two selves interfered with each other not at all, creating a dynamic balance.
A subtle balance.
That feeling was like time stretching, everything around becoming delicate and intricate; his thoughts flowed slowly, and the actions of those around him also appeared to slow down.
The enemies in the arena were slowly gearing up, gradually charging toward him. The youths outside adjusted their gazes, moving slowly with their actions, while Kuran continued to pat the air wall, shouting at him from the other side of the arena.
“Kid!” The elder shouted, “Listen to me, don’t be arrogant; no one can master a newly acquired sword technique right away—”
But the old swordsman’s words were abruptly cut off.
Because he saw Brendel suddenly move; the young man merely shook the long sword in his hand slightly, and the next moment, he seemed to split into four.
It wasn’t a technique of cloning; rather, at that moment, Brendel’s movements reached an extreme speed, as if four identical Brendels were simultaneously attacking his grandfather, Test, Bud, and Aibodun.
Clang, clang, clang, clang—a series of sharp sounds rang out in quick succession.
Whether horizontal or vertical, Brendel exchanged a sword strike with each of the four opponents, and the five retreated simultaneously. This time, their attack not only failed to achieve its intended purpose but also allowed Brendel a slightly larger range of movement.
This was the swordsmanship of the Wind Elf, and the elder recognized it.
Wind Dance—
What shocked him was that the young man was using it like this? He appeared to wield it with the proficiency of someone who had trained for years, no, it seemed even more than mere practice. As a seasoned swordsman, the elder understood what the unembellished simplicity of Brendel’s sword strikes represented.
Combat experience!
Kuran’s action of patting the air wall froze just at that moment; if he could have popped his eyes out in disbelief, he would have thought that his eyes had indeed dropped to the ground.
Martha! What kind of talent was this? The elder felt a throbbing pain in his head, as if his brain was twisted by something—how could such an existence be found in this world?
This feeling wasn’t unique to him; the emotions of Brendel’s four opponents were especially evident. With their power limited to the same level, technique became the key to victory, yet now they realized—the young man’s swordsmanship was clearly becoming elusive.
That was a transformative change.
The four retreated, but after a slight pause, they continued their assault. They were all renowned swordsmen and understood that the only way to wear down Brendel was to keep the pressure on, not allowing him to catch a breath.
This time, the primary attacker was Brendel’s grandfather, who was the strongest among the four and naturally had to bear the most pressure. He leveled his sword, and the others immediately understood his meaning—encircle him and maintain the pressure.
One could say that the elder had already given up on the plan of striking a decisive blow and chose this nearly defensive oppressive approach to win. Although it seemed a bit underhanded, it was indeed the best choice.
Brendel saw this scene and was inwardly astonished, unable to help but question what kind of person his grandfather was—this tactical level wasn’t something an old soldier should possess.
However, four against one meant that the side with more numbers seemed to be the one playing conservatively; Brendel’s battle had completely stunned everyone outside.
Especially in the hearts of those youths, this young lord was likely to become equal to the legendary war gods.
However, while the elder held his long sword level, Brendel also held his sword level, but he was not doing so to defend; rather, it was a starting stance for a sword technique.
The Tahrasians’ thrusting sword technique—
When Brendel found this technique in the woman’s skill list, his surprise was undeniable, to the point where the long sword in his hand slightly trembled. Compared to Erluin’s military swordsmanship, this was the sword technique he was most familiar with as a level 130 warrior.
Also the one he used the most frequently.
This sword technique would later be learned by the Northerners, gradually spread out, and after several improvements, it acquired a new name—the offensive sword technique of the Church Knights of the country of Grace!
Brendel gently leveled his long sword, thinking, then let’s show you what true swordsmanship looks like.
Then he moved; at that moment, it was Brendel’s grandfather at the forefront, but Test was shocked to find that the first person Brendel targeted—was him.
How did he get around?
That was the same thought on everyone’s minds at that moment. Even the old white-haired man was astonished enough to glance back, but what he saw was only Brendel’s sword piercing into Test’s throat.
“What are you doing?”
The elder was stunned; he couldn’t help but glance at Bud and Aibodun, even though Brendel had bypassed him, how could he so easily take down Test with the two of them surrounding him?
But Bud and Test only responded with equally bewildered expressions.
Too fast.
They had only just reacted when Brendel had already knocked the dagger from Test’s hand with one strike, then pierced the throat of this young viscount with another.
“Kid,” the woman looked at this scene in surprise, “that’s not my sword technique.”
“I modified it,” Brendel boldly claimed.
As he replied, the sword in his hand didn’t slow down. Brendel advanced forward, with Aibodun and Bud standing in his way like children, even their once-proud swordsmanship now seemed like child’s play. The young man’s assault was as swift as a dragon, and with a twist, he broke through the encirclement created by his grandfather and the two swordsmen.
When Bud and Aibodun attempted to turn back to find Brendel again, the elder raised his brow and struck with a sword to intercept Brendel’s thrust aimed at Aibodun from behind.
But he immediately realized it was a trap.
Because Brendel’s sword split into three before him, the elder immediately retreated, twirling his sword to deflect Brendel’s attacks with a series of clangs.
This time, it was Brendel’s turn to be surprised; he looked at his grandfather in disbelief. Though he couldn’t maintain the physical prowess, he was only able to unleash a fraction of his previous swordsmanship level. But here, everyone was on the same footing; no one was substantially better than the other.
And the few strikes his grandfather had just used to counter him were at least at a level in the sixties.
Brendel widened his mouth; this meant that his grandfather had once been a person who had unlocked the elements? How was that possible? Just thinking about that hypothesis felt absurd. Would a powerful figure with unlocked elements operate a small mill in the border province?
It’s not that there’s no possibility of hidden masters, but in his—Brendel’s memory, his grandfather had always just been an old soldier from the Eleven Month War, and nothing more.
He looked at the elder before him, and the elder looked back at him.
Suddenly, his grandfather’s expression changed: “Don’t—!”
This was the first time this projection of Brendel’s grandfather spoke, as he saw Bud preparing to sneak attack the young man from behind. He wasn’t warning Brendel; on the contrary, he was alerting that this person was a Master of the Crossed Sword.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
Bud and Brendel passed each other—specifically, it was Bud’s headless corpse that passed by Brendel.
And no one saw how Brendel made his move.
“Just a little trick.”
The young man looked at his ‘grandfather’ and replied like this.
……
(PS. Do you guess there’s more today? If so, please vote; if not, please vote more. That’s it.
By the way, it seems many classmates are writing fanfiction; if anyone has written, please send it to my email, and I’ll organize it so that fellow fans can share it together.)(To be continued. If you want to know what happens next, please log in for more chapters, support the author, and support legitimate reading!)
