Chapter 328: Act 95 – The Maiden’s Weaving Thread (II)
A long corridor led to a room on the southwest side of the castle where Charles had placed Xi. The room’s main color was a light green, and through the windows, one could see the branches of an ancient red tree—farther out was the distant view of Duke Toniger’s estate— the Black Forest and the shadow of mountains that seemed to descend from the clouds.
Flour guided Brendel to the door where the young wizard had already been waiting, informed of his master’s return to the castle.
“So?” Brendel’s first words upon seeing Charles were a direct question.
“Not good,” Charles replied, “Miss Romaine, Antinna, and Medisa are all inside—”
Brendel nodded silently and pushed the door open. Xi’s room wasn’t an intensive care ward, at least the young man didn’t smell the pungent medicinal odor once he entered; instead, there was a serene atmosphere. When he opened the door, the curtain on the opposite side swayed lightly, revealing a corner of Cold Pine Fortress.
Brendel’s entrance brought a gentle breeze into the room.
The wind lifted the layered curtains of a grand princess bed placed at the room’s center. The bed’s original owner was long forgotten, but currently, Xi lay on it, concealed beneath the light veils. The girl’s complexion was pale, her eyes lightly closed.
Brendel noticed for the first time that the girl had let down her ponytail; her soft red hair cascaded down, partially covering her face, lending her a frail and delicate appearance.
She was very quiet.
Not the usual quiet stubbornness, but a genuine tranquility, completely silent, as if she was immersed in her own dream. Unfortunately, Brendel knew it must be a nightmare since Xi’s delicate brows were slightly furrowed, indicating her discomfort in slumber.
When Medisa and Antinna noticed Brendel’s arrival, they both stood up at the same time. The Silver Elf Princess made a slight bow, while Antinna stood still, looking at the young man with a trace of worry in her eyes.
Though she wasn’t certain about what had happened underground in Schafflund, Xi’s condition was clearly not optimistic. She had already inquired about it from Charles, but the young wizard only told her — all matters would be handled upon their lord’s return.
This made her heart sink.
Antinna was a pure-hearted girl, though she always deliberately maintained absolute composure to be an effective counselor. But much like the time where in the mountains of Shubli, the noble lady had wept in self-reproach for the supposed “death” of the wild elves’ sister, her heart truly hoped that no one within their group would meet an untimely end.
Though Antinna knew such thoughts were naïve, even absurd. Since ancient times, it was said: the success of a general was built upon countless dead. The struggles among nobles were never bereft of bloodshed, yet she was unwilling to abandon this hope.
Calm but not cold-hearted was what Brendel had taught her.
“Lord.”
The young noble lady softly asked.
Brendel nodded but was promptly amused by the sight of a small body sound asleep on the other side of the bed. The Business Lady was apparently completely oblivious to her surroundings, as a string of sparkling saliva trickled down her lips to Xi’s blanket.
Brendel watched this young girl vividly dream, her eyebrows dancing lively, and knew that she was surely in an imaginary adventure, perhaps even rescuing Xi from countless enemies— albeit, all in her own imagination, and which provided no help to the ailing red-haired girl.
However, Brendel understood that Roman had a simple heart and motives untainted by self-interest— of course, except in her business dealings.
Therefore, raising an eyebrow, he felt no inclination to criticize. He stepped forward to Xi’s bedside and turned to ask,
“What’s she doing?”
“She’s telling Xi a story.” Medisa replied.
“Telling a story?”
“Miss Romaine said that when she was sick as a child, her Aunt used to tell her stories. She told her that after hearing the stories, her sickness would go away.” The Silver Elf maiden softly added.
“Then?”
Seeing Medisa and the noble lady smile faintly, Brendel immediately understood that all of Romaine’s efforts were in vain. If her aunt had been a sorceress, she would have practiced some form of verbal magic— sacred word magic was one of the witches’ many spells.
But such things cannot be learned merely by imitation, and Romaine clearly hadn’t realized this.
He did not wake the sleeping Business Lady, instead fixing his gaze on Xi. In just over a week, the red-haired girl had completely transformed. She lost all her usual vitality and health, her face drained of color becoming as pale as paper. She appeared to have lost weight, her transparent skin revealing the veins beneath.
In stark contrast to her crystal-like skin was a prominent black pattern on her neck that was spreading upwards. These patterns stretched past her long, delicate neck and had extended towards her face.
Seeing Xi like this, Brendel felt a heavy pang in his chest. The blood of the gods had begun to spread. Despite Charles’ efforts to suppress it, this resilient life-force still advanced uncontrollably towards her brain.
If this continued, by dawn the next day, there would no longer be a red-haired girl called Xi in this world.
Medisa and Antinna, observing that their usually omnipotent Lord was silent, instantly understood the grimness of Xi’s condition.
Though the Silver Elf maiden was not adept at expressing her emotions, she couldn’t help but softly inquire, “Lord?”
Brendel simply shook his head.
The patterns on Xi’s body stemmed from her chest, right where the blood of the gods had penetrated— her heart. In fact, this was the most challenging method of blood infusion, practiced by those with immense experience. Facing such a situation which involves killing the host before reversing life and death left Charles and Brendel with no recourse but to be at a loss.
If they were to save Xi, they would need to destroy the blood of the gods, but the blood was now the only energy sustaining her life. Even if they could annihilate the blood, it would cost her life equally.
Moreover, they currently had no method to achieve it.
The other method was suitable for situations where a body was either occupied or about to be occupied, which involved erasing the dominating will behind the occupation. However, the obstacle for Brendel was that the blood of the gods lacked such will and acted solely based on instinct, thus closing off this avenue from his approach.
He watched the patterns on Xi’s neck grow inch by inch, like blood-sucking brambles slowly draining the young girl’s life, or like a slow-acting poison that would claim her life as soon as time ran out. Yet, standing by her bedside, he was temporarily helpless.
There was, however, a method similar to drinking poison to quench thirst.
He frowned.
At this very moment, a voice echoed in his mind, “Little one?”
“Hmm?” Brendel slightly turned his head, recognizing the deep and mature female voice as the spirit of Otales—a knight from the era of the Holy War. This noble spirit usually didn’t reach out to him, except to answer questions about swordsmanship.
In an earlier moment, hearing Otales’ voice, Brendel would have been filled with immense hope. She was a warrior from the Holy War era—an age where the forces of darkness and chaos were much stronger than they were now. Terms like the blood of the gods and heretic trees were familiar, if not more comprehensively known than Brendel.
Unfortunately, being meticulous, this possibility had already crossed his mind. Indeed, he had mentally contacted Otales during the journey, hoping to seek help from her.
Regrettably, the issue he faced was also a quandary for Otales. Xi’s life had already been compromised, and it was the blood of the gods that had repaired her body. Otales told him that there were only two methods that could comprehensively solve the problem.
One was a miracle from sacred word spells; these spells could reverse principles, turning cause to effect. Even bringing Medisa back to her state before being consumed by the blood wasn’t impossible.
However, ever since the Holy War, aside from the Holy One Fanzan, no one else had been known to wield this art.
The second method was far-fetched; Otales told him it involved finding Martha’s Covenant. Martha’s Covenant, as the name suggested, was an agreement between mortals and Martha. Given that Martha was the mother of all, this agreement could potentially realize almost any wish, enhancing the capabilities of miraculous spells. If a miracle could save Xi, this method undoubtedly could as well.
Unfortunately, the flaw in this strategy was that the probability of it working was almost zero. Though Otales assured him that Martha’s Covenant indeed existed, Brendel himself had neither heard of it from history, nor from his past gaming experiences, indicating no real proof of its existence.
Games involved millions of players exploring the world, with countless powerful individuals yet failing to unearth any traces of Martha’s Covenant; what made him special enough to succeed?
But after dismissing these two methods, even Otales could not think of a better solution momentarily.
Nevertheless, this time the spirit’s renewed voice gave a glimmer of hope to Brendel, knowing that the ancient knight wouldn’t make contact unless it was necessary.
“I took a look, this young girl won’t last more than twelve hours, it’s a terminal case.” She replied.
Twelve hours, this matched Brendel’s expectations. However, confirming it through Otales’ mouth only deepened his desolation.
“Have you thought of any way?” The spirit of the knight inquired.
“No method to cure the root cause.” Brendel shook his head.
“Meaning there is a way to treat the symptoms?” Otales, hearing his reply, couldn’t help but hesitate. Even for her, extending the girl’s life by just one day would require immense effort.
That was if she were in her prime condition—not her present state. Her current state, one could say, she could do very little. She had nearly exhausted her strength just while rescuing Brendel in Buche.
In the material plane, conditions for pure spiritual entities like her were extremely stringent, unlike the sanctuary that existed between fantasy and reality that gave her more freedom.
Brendel nodded.
“There’s a clumsy way.” He responded.
“Clumsy way?”
…(To be continued)
