Chapter 344: Act 112 – Duke Toniger and the Young Lord (12) (Second Update)
After deciding on the itinerary, Brendel’s plans for a long journey through the Black Forest were set into motion.
However, he did not set off immediately but waited for several days. It was only after confirming that the defenses on the side of Parsons had indeed tightened that he felt reassured enough to execute his plans.
On the day of his departure, he arrived in a courtyard within his castle—
“Your swordsmanship has improved again.”
Kuran bent down to pick up a sword and casually placed it back on the weapon rack in a corner. This old swordsman looked at Brendel with a mix of envy and resignation, yet with some expectation: “I’m old now; I can’t keep up with you.”
Brendel did not feign humility, instead smiling shyly in a way that was unique to youth.
Since their earlier discussion, Brendel’s departure date had drawn closer day by day. Everyone was busy preparing for the expedition, yet he himself appeared somewhat leisurely.
The battle lasted ten minutes, and in the end, he emerged victorious. The young man was not overly surprised; following his battle underground and with guidance from Lady Knight Otales, his swordsmanship had improved tremendously, making it incomparable to his first encounter with Kuran.
His military swordsmanship had plateaued at level 16+2, and there were no further gains; the skill experience channel had turned grey. Brendel knew that this swordsmanship had reached its limit—after reaching the peak of the master level, further improvement would only come from repeated practice or a moment of sudden enlightenment.
Today, Brendel wore a black travel outfit from the Crusian people. This attire evolved from the warrior culture of the Taz tribes, typically made from some woolen fabric. The upper part resembled a shirt but was noticeably loose in both sleeves and pants, with the cuffs cinched. Adventurers and nobility usually wore double belts to hang their sword sheaths, but Brendel’s was particularly wide, designed for the Earth Sword Halangaya, resembling a sheath for a broad sword.
With the sword in hand, he drew it back and replied, “Times have changed, Mr. Kuran.” Kuran lifted his eyelids to glance at him, not offering a response.
Kuran remained silent, but Brendel did not press further. He took out a cloth and gently wiped his beloved sword while reminiscing about recent events—
His meeting with the Druids was relatively harmonious, and Andrew had yet to return from the Loop of Trade Winds. Instead, they were visited by another elder called ‘Gray Raven.’ Gray Raven, symbolizing the elf in the storm, used this title as a codename, indicating that he was skilled in wind-based Druidic spells, which often granted a high status within the Druid organization.
Thus, Brendel deduced that this was likely not the ordinary outer circle elder like Andrew but a powerful inner circle Druid.
The connections among the Druids stemmed from a secret organization commonly referred to as the Druid Gathering. This organization formed a circular structure, with the inner circle known as the Council of Trade Winds. Each member was a high-ranking Druid, exchanging information over vast distances through the winds of summer, autumn, and winter.
Only spring belonged to Nia, during which the Druids had to yield all pathways of the winds to avoid disturbing the goddess Reza.
As expected, the Druids brought him a piece of news he anticipated—
The High Druid Gray Raven told him that they might have found Valhalla, but had run into a bit of trouble. It seemed that the Loop of Trade Winds was undergoing unusual changes, and the rules within the Black Forest were once again in flux. The Druids faced mist and gale, and their proud ability to navigate through the forest had lost its efficacy.
The High Druid mentioned that the trees there appeared to be rejecting them; were it not for their lack of hostility, they might even struggle to exit the forest.
After a moment’s contemplation, Brendel quickly considered what their troubles might entail. The power of the magic moon was growing stronger as the tide approached, chaos stirred restlessly in the dark, and even the forest was affected, beginning to show various signs.
This was a tricky problem with almost no shortcuts; the only way to resolve it was to force a way through. However, that required strength. The Druids were incapable, and while this High Druid seemed to possess some golden power, they had too little understanding of Valhalla. It appeared he had to go there personally.
But that was fine; it suited him well.
He freed up a month and thought this arrangement should be more than sufficient. However, just as he was contemplating, a commotion suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
“Stop!”
“I want to see your commander; I know he has returned!”
“Quit the nonsense. A captive should have the awareness of a captive; why make so many demands!” This was the voice of a soldier.
Brendel looked up toward that direction—it was the dungeon, and he couldn’t help but smile, even though it was not the first time he had overheard a similar dispute.
“Hmph, you treacherous bunch! The last time I defeated that bastard, he promised to let me see your commander! If you have the guts, let that guy come back, and I guarantee I’ll make him regret it!”
“Shut it!” the soldier scolded, “Captain Crenshia let you go; didn’t you see that his sword broke during the fight?”
“Then you let him come back with a good sword to try me!” The voice continued to mock without reservation.
“Kid, do you want another lesson?” The soldier clearly lost patience.
Then came several cries of pain, and Brendel soon saw a young man in a white shirt escape from the bushes. The young man’s light golden hair was somewhat disheveled, looking a bit flustered, but he held a sword—one commonly used by mercenaries, and Brendel noticed it had no blood on it.
The young man emerged from the bushes and paused visibly upon seeing someone outside. Spotting Brendel with a sword, he instinctively took him for a guard and rushed over without a second thought.
Brendel was slightly taken aback, wondering how someone had managed to escape. However, before he could finish his thought, he saw the young man thrust forward into an offensive stance with a single-handed grip on the sword.
The young man’s blade pointed toward his right arm, clearly not intending to kill him, but the speed of his strike was incredibly rapid, and his hand was steady, demonstrating exquisite fundamentals—this surprised Brendel. From the strike alone, he understood that his subordinates’ four captains—Juliette, Crenshia, Husher, and Vurn—might not stand a chance against this young man.
“Goodness, military swordsmanship, at least level eight,” Brendel mused, realizing why Husher, Vurn, and Crenshia had almost failed to subdue him when they teamed up—this individual was indeed a talent.
Initially, he instinctively wanted to disarm the young man’s sword, but thinking it over, he decided to test this young man’s skills instead.
In an instant, Brendel altered his movements twice. He flicked his sword upward to parry the young man’s strike before pushing outward, throwing the young man off balance.
Though Carglis’ offense was deflected, Brendel spared him, avoiding directly disarming him. However, he almost thought he had made a mistake; this seemingly ordinary-looking guard appeared to be a master swordsman?
But that was impossible.
The young man was convinced that he had misjudged and gritted his teeth to attack once more, but Brendel, using both hands, struck with the Earth Sword, landing powerful blows on the young man’s arms, forcing him to retreat repeatedly until he ultimately fell to the ground.
“Full of openings, but impressive.”
Brendel thought as he watched the young man stand up again, instinctively raising his sword, ready to test whether he had any other sword techniques. Just then, he noticed Carglis dejectedly drop his sword and raise his hands in surrender—
“I give up!” Carglis looked at Brendel with pale gray eyes, completely realizing when Brendel struck back the second time—that this was a master swordsman, and he had no chance whatsoever.
However, he felt frustrated, thinking that if he had known, he wouldn’t have fled in this direction. Now, remembering how he had rushed toward this young man felt humorous, glancing at the old man nearby and wondering if he should have charged out this way from the start?
But then he saw Kuran looking at him with a smile, and upon seeing the long fingers of the old swordsman filled with calluses, he immediately felt a chill in his heart, realizing that his failure was inevitable.
“Who are you?” Carglis asked, looking at Brendel with curiosity, as soldiers who had caught up from behind quickly bound his hands behind his back—the soldiers were annoyed at him for injuring someone, so they were rather harsh, making him wince.
Thankfully, the young man didn’t kill anyone. Otherwise, these soldiers would likely have given him a serious beating right in front of the Lord.
Brendel did not answer, instead, he looked at Carglis with interest, suddenly having a new idea.
“Are you not afraid I’ll kill you?” he asked.
“Why would you kill me?” Carglis replied, seemingly unafraid, “It wouldn’t benefit you.”
“To set an example for others—” Brendel replied.
“Then go ahead,” the young man puffed out his chest: “If I blink, I’m no longer a man of the Huberto family.”
“So a man only cares for himself and not for your father?” Brendel questioned.
“I don’t see the connection between my being a man and my father,” Carglis responded, puzzled.
Brendel was taken aback, remembering that the cultural customs of this world were indeed different from his original world.
He looked at the soldiers again: “Why didn’t you kill them in the first place?”
The young man shook his head, “Why do you immediately jump to killing? I’m much stronger than them; there’s no need to kill them to escape. But if our strengths were on par, then it would only end with lives on the line.” He answered candidly.
“But he is your enemy.”
“I can’t kill them all.” Carglis raised an eyebrow and shrugged unperturbed: “Besides, if I kill someone and get caught, it’s I who suffers—just like now!”
“You’re quite thoughtful,” Brendel suddenly found the guy interesting: “So, do you still want to know who I am?”
“Didn’t I just ask?”
“Then what should you call me?” Brendel turned to look at the soldiers.
Those soldiers quickly took a step back, lowered their heads, and placed a hand on their chests to salute: “My Lord—”
My Lord.
Brendel turned back around and saw the young man staring at him, aghast. His mouth fell open, nearly wide enough to swallow an egg, as he incredulously stammered: “Y-you are…”
Brendel nodded, secretly chuckling but maintaining a composed expression:
“Yes, I am the person you wanted to see.”
…(To be continued. For the following events, please log in for more chapters and support the author to read legitimate content!)
