Chapter 315: Act 82 – The Legacy (Sixth update, stay tuned)
It was precisely because he knew all of this that the old dwarf traveled thousands of miles to come here. But perhaps it was for more than just the treasure; even Odum himself couldn’t clearly articulate it. There was a voice in his blood that told him of such a dream.
That was to restore the legacy of the runic dwarves to the land of Vaunte.
Just as he understood the legend of revival that was passed down among the runic dwarves.
He looked at the sword in Brendel’s hand, feeling momentarily hesitant. The voice in his heart told him to believe in this legend, but how could he believe it? The legend stated that all runic dwarves must honor the one who wields the Sword of the Earth as their king, following him to rebuild the Empire of the runic dwarves.
But for this old dwarf to bow his head to a stranger was indeed a tall order for his old bones.
“Legend?” Brendel probed further.
Odum bit his teeth, deciding to cling to his little cleverness, taking it one step at a time. The old dwarf coughed and replied, “I’m afraid I can’t say much more about it, but I seem to have overheard your earlier conversation. You want to leave here?”
“What do you mean?” Brendel’s attention was indeed drawn in.
“Nothing, my lord,” the old dwarf chose a title he could accept better, reasoning that if he rashly called the other party ‘king’, not only would he find it hard to accept, but he would likely startle everyone present: “I just want to say, it doesn’t have to be so troublesome—”
He paused, cautiously pointing at the sword in Brendel’s hand. “If you could lend me that sword for a little while, I might be able to help everyone leave here easily.”
“Oh?”
Brendel had never heard of such a suggestion before. He exchanged glances with Medisa beside him, each reading doubt in the other’s eyes. Not just them; even the old swordsman beside them chimed in, “Odum, what are you playing at? I tell you, this kid is much stronger than I am. You better be careful of your tricks in front of him.”
The old dwarf was taken aback, then puffed out his beard and glared, “What I said is true, damn it—” However, he thought it through and wisely avoided a conflict with Kuran. The other party’s strength was apparent, and although dwarfs were stubborn, he considered himself not reckless: “This sanctum was built by us runic dwarves to store the sword. Since the lord has obtained it, leaving here should not be a problem!”
“Is there such a saying?” Brendel asked. He had no idea that the Fate Arena had such a setup.
“Of course, but you gentlemen are not eligible. You know the silver heritage is actually meant for the descendants of this bloodline. Although you are descendants of the people of order, you are still outsiders,” the old dwarf answered Brendel with a noticeably different attitude. “But I’m different; I have the blood of the runic dwarves flowing through me. Holding that sword, maybe I can open this space—”
Brendel looked back at Kuran, but the old chief of security appeared a bit hesitant. Though he had dealt with Odum before, his knowledge of him was mostly limited to the dwarf’s stubbornness.
As for whether he understood what kind of person Odum was, even this old man couldn’t clarify.
But the young man had made a decision; this sword was at least his trophy in this space. In the game, there were rules to protect that, and he believed it would be the same here. He thought even if he gave the sword to this old dwarf, the latter wouldn’t be able to play any tricks.
Moreover, Odum’s words stirred him slightly. What he said was not without reason. In the past, he had never heard of similar rumors in the game, as there were no players with silver or gold bloodlines, and thus naturally, similar plots would not be triggered in the sanctuary.
Thus, after a moment of contemplation, Brendel threw the sword over.
“Give it a try,” he said.
If everyone could avoid being left behind here, that would be for the best. Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but glance at Kewen, pondering if this was the turning point of history?
“What’s wrong, sir?” Kewen noticed his gaze and asked.
“You seem to have good fortune.” Brendel replied.
“Are you so sure he can do it?”
The young man saw the dwarf take the sword and step by step walk to the center of the arena. He turned back, looking at Brendel with a puzzled expression.
“No,” Brendel shook his head. “I just believe in history.”
“History?” Kewen asked, a bit incredulous.
But Brendel did not answer him. Instead, he raised his hand, summoning a gust of sword wind that wrapped around the fate card on the ground and flew to him. He reached out with his hand to catch the card labeled ‘Fire Claw Lord’, silently telling himself:
“System prompt: Reward acquired.”
Then he smiled faintly.
“My lord?” Medisa noticed Brendel’s expression and felt puzzled. In her mind, Brendel shouldn’t be the sort to be elated over such a small gain.
Brendel similarly did not answer her; he simply looked up at the sandy ground of the arena.
At the same moment, the old dwarf had already raised the Sword of the Earth—once again, the voice echoed in the sky:
“Mortal, do you accept the challenge?”
“Of course!” Odum’s words startled everyone.
But this challenge did not come as expected. After a moment of silence, the voice in the sky asked, “I seem to sense a familiar presence from you. Are you our descendant?”
“Yes, ancestors and the spirits of the mountains,” the old dwarf answered proudly. “I, like you, am a child of the mountains and rocks, a child of metal and fire. For thousands of years, we have endured hardships in the wilderness, yet we have finally overcome numerous difficulties to come here, just so that our souls may enjoy a moment of peace—”
“Because this is our origin, my homeland.”
The arena fell silent for a moment, but the voice then roared:
“Peace? No, the time is not yet! The descendants on the wilderness, you must continue your journey until that moment arrives, for your souls can return to the temple!”
“The time has come, ancestors and spirits of the mountains.”
“Is it?”
Suddenly, a voice echoed in the space, causing the entire area to hum.
Then the old dwarf hesitated for a moment; he turned to look at Brendel with a look of disbelief but still raised the Sword of the Earth.
“Dazz Motes Hremm!” the dwarf replied.
It was a strange language, one that Brendel did not recognize, but Medisa did. Her brow furrowed as she explained to her lord, “The words of order; it seems to be part of a holy covenant.”
Brendel naturally understood what was meant by the holy covenant. It was the agreement signed with Lady Martha to resist the Duskgazer Dragon before the dark ages, and part of that agreement itself established the rules of order, said to originate from an era before this epoch, which was before the divine folks.
That is, the period referred to by Brendel as “utterly pointless background.”
After the holy covenant, during the resistance against the Duskgazer Dragon, the forces of justice on the land had also signed a holy covenant, but that agreement written in ancient language was far from the authentic version.
The holy covenant itself was an artifact symbolizing the law.
However, as soon as Odum uttered that phrase, the entire space trembled, and everyone felt the surrounding space loosen—this indicated that the old dwarf had not lied to them, his method was effective!
But at that moment, Brendel suddenly felt as if he were experiencing an illusion amid the vibrations of the space—
He saw strange images appearing before him.
A black moon, a solitary high tower standing silently in the center of a pitch-black lake, as if implying something…
Then the image shifted to show a group of indistinguishable figures in black walking across an endless wilderness…
Then he saw a line of black text—
XVI: THE TOWER—
The lost ‘moon’ took the light.
He recalled seeing this line of text during his escape from Ridenburg, but immediately below it appeared a brand-new sentence:
XX: JUDGEMENT—
Light was lost.
The text continued to emerge:
XVII: THE STAR—
The silver generation was lost on the land, seeking through darkness and ignorance.
Then all the strange images disappeared. Brendel shook his head to clear his mind, noticing Medisa looking at him with concern. He nodded at the silver elf girl, indicating he was fine.
However, his gaze shifted slightly to see Merchant Miss cautiously approaching, as if she wanted to ask him something kindly, yet hesitated to let him notice in case she faced his wrath.
Seeing Romaine like this, Brendel couldn’t help but laugh. He said to Medisa, “After all, we really should thank someone this time.”
“Eh?” Medisa slightly froze.
“Thank Little Romaine for bringing us good fortune,” the young man turned back, his expression stern as he swiftly pinched the merchant miss’s rosy little face: “Right, Little Romaine?”
“Ah! Ouch, ouch, ouch, Brendel… I won’t, I won’t dare again…” Romaine’s face was being pulled, and she squinted in pain, nearly shedding tears, hastily admitting, “I’m sorry…”
Her little brows were almost raised, wanting to retreat but also fearing pain, caught in a dilemma.
Brendel glanced at the old dwarf in the arena, then back at Romaine, asking, “Will you dare to run around again in the future?”
“N-no, I won’t…” the girl’s eyes darted left and right as she answered.
Brendel, feeling helpless, knew this girl certainly wouldn’t repent. However, he had already resolved to take her with him wherever he went in the future. Otherwise, they couldn’t endure another incident like this.
He sighed and released his grip.
At the same time, the light around them suddenly dimmed, as if they had entered a space where one couldn’t see their hand in front of their face—
“What’s wrong?” Romaine’s voice immediately rang out.
“Nothing,” Brendel felt the surroundings and replied, “so we’re back.”
…
(PS. This is the power, thank you all for your support. Is there more to come?)(To be continued. For more information on future events, please log in. More chapters await; support the author and official reading!)
