Chapter 394: Act 150 – Xi’s Mutation (Part 2)
Count Ouding’s expression changed again as he saw the corpses beneath the torn cloaks, with the bright armor bearing the crimson emblem of the Temple of Fire.
He knew the temple’s monks, of course. But to see so many dead, with Martha above, he understood the Temple’s true strength and couldn’t imagine what kind of enemy could inflict such a heavy toll on the monks of the Temple of Fire.
Ouding’s gaze continued forward. “The Grey Knight!” He was further stunned by the sight of several corpses at Brendel’s feet; these were at least of priest level. This meant that there was at least one official priest among this Temple’s contingent, wasn’t there?
Ouding couldn’t help but take a sharp breath. With an official priest aiding them, over thirty monks had still died, and on top of that, the Grey Knight? What sort of divine being had the temple encountered?
It was known that an official priest must at least cultivate an element, and as a spellcasting profession familiar with elemental magic, they should be able to prevail even against powerful foes.
However, the good lord began to form some odd associations. He looked at Brendel and thought peculiarly that perhaps this young man had indeed taken down these temple monks—after all, it appeared to him that nothing was beyond the reckless young baron’s reach.
He didn’t even regard the Crusian in front of him; perhaps he indeed could pull off something so astonishing.
Count Ouding thought of Brendel’s connection to the Druids, and in a moment of sheer apprehension wondered if these Druids were trying to ignite the flames of holy war?
This high-ranking commander from the Northern Army swallowed audibly.
But Brendel’s subsequent words dismissed the count’s doubts. Brendel, of course, had noticed Ouding’s arrival, yet he didn’t bother to glance at him, instead continuing through the forest. “The real battle unfolds here.”
He made Xi stop, then pointed towards the trees, saying, “The fight ends the moment the enemy closes in; everyone thinks they have launched an attack, but their weapons remain in hand, arrows still unshot.”
“And then the first group of people dies.” Brendel crossed over the ten monks forming a defensive line, now all lying on the ground. “Death is silent and breezy, rushing past their bodies.”
He gazed at the corpses of the ten monks, who had all perished at the same moment.
He raised his head, and this invisible enemy advanced further; the second group of monks attempted to create distance to stall for time, but they fell simultaneously.
“The last survivors appeared to crumble; some began to flee. This is why these corpses ultimately did not form a perfect defensive circle.”
Brendel responded, surveying the entire forest. “From the monks’ formation— that creature is immense, but it moved through this forest silently. When it took these people’s lives, it must have employed some sort of illusion, leaving no signs of battle until the end.”
“However, it’s also possible that it created an illusion to mislead them; in that case, the other people from the Temple should not have escaped.”
Brendel finished speaking, looking at Ward and Quinelle, then glancing at Ouding beside them.
His calm gaze sent a shiver through the three of them, making it feel as if a terrifying monster lurked in the shadows of the forest, ready to appear at any moment like a colossal ghost responding to their conversation.
All three were seasoned warriors, yet the Black Forest was too eerie; the unfamiliar felt an oppressive mystery, while those familiar would only see more unknowns.
They just couldn’t fathom why the young man stood before them, unfazed and discussing matters so casually.
“Have you heard of anything like this?” Brendel looked back at the forest again; the current situation genuinely puzzled him. He had witnessed similar attack methods, but the compatible answers were far too numerous.
Moreover, no one dared claim to have encountered all the monsters found in the wilderness.
These entities birthed from chaos and magic, some defying common sense; perhaps this horrific murderer truly was the breeze sweeping over the forest.
Or maybe—
To narrow down the possibilities, he had to seek answers from locals like Quinelle and Ward. Brendel thought that if he were to approach this scenario with the mindset of facing a quest, then he understood one thing clearly—there wouldn’t be a quest without clues.
“It sounds like a ghost. Only legendary ghosts can take a person’s life so silently,” unexpectedly spoke Count Ouding.
After a brief moment of shock, the count began assessing Brendel anew. Perhaps due to the occupational habit—Brendel’s reenactment of the whole battle had been quite refreshing for him.
If the count had initially viewed Brendel through the lens of personal emotions and certain biases, at this moment, he was finally noticing some previously overlooked details:
For example, when did Erluin produce such a character?
The more he thought, the more he felt something wasn’t right. The Baron of Cold Fir, didn’t that barony belong to Duke Toniger? Shouldn’t that rural lord be some unremarkable son of Count Rendener?
Of course, as someone at the very center of the noble circle, he couldn’t confirm whether he remembered correctly. Still, he didn’t believe that this mysterious young noble could be just a rustic lord.
Even in his view, the so-called outstanding youth among the current generation in noble circles amounted to little. Most were merely boastful types, whereas the baron standing before him was genuinely in an environment far more perilous than a battlefield, yet he remained composed.
Count Ouding couldn’t help but look at Brendel with a strange gaze, instinctively believing this fellow must be lying.
“Ghosts?” Brendel shook his head. Firstly, not to mention the sheer size of a ghost that could rival a mountain, ghosts typically attack by stealing the warmth from life; the beings killed by them should at least be covered in a layer of ice.
Elder Wald, a centaur, and Quinelle, the dryad leader, also shook their heads. There were indeed many spirits in the Black Forest, and they had dealt with those ethereal beings before, but this situation clearly differed.
Brendel saw that there was not a single person present who could offer a concrete explanation and couldn’t help but shake his head. Deep down, he harbored an ominous premonition.
They had encountered such a scene the moment they entered the Loop of Trade Winds—or rather, the individuals from the Temple of Fire must have arrived here first and faced an attack. He suspected that hiding in the fog lay the creature that attacked the Druids.
However, earlier, this creature had only driven back the Druids, but now it had started to kill; was it due to the differing intruders, or had the path from the clouds changed?
Regardless, Brendel knew this creature was the BOSS of this quest.
“And even the Temple of Fire seemingly had no means of resistance, leaving behind over thirty corpses in chaotic escape. Just how strong could this thing be?”
Brendel faced such speculation nonchalantly, yet inwardly he felt a sense of survival’s gratitude, realizing how fortunate it was that those fellows from the Temple of Fire acted swiftly, deflecting a blow for him. Otherwise, if he had encountered this terrifying being directly, he genuinely didn’t know if he could handle it.
He originally believed that the player from the Amber Sword who had entered Valhalla by pure chance was even weaker than his current self, yet he had still succeeded in completing the quest—this indicated that the task shouldn’t be overly difficult.
Yet unexpectedly…
Damn, that fellow truly stumbled into the center of the Loop of Trade Winds by mere chance! Brendel couldn’t help but curse inwardly; nevertheless, as a commander, his experience allowed him to quickly regain his composure.
Since accidental entry into the center of the Loop of Trade Winds was possible, it indicated that this quest was not entirely inflexible. Otherwise, given the strength of this BOSS, let alone players from that time, even in another twenty years, there would be no chance left.
But engaging in battle was absolutely out of the question; the goal of the quest must be to avoid combat and find another path. But where was this shortcut? Brendel felt a surge of confusion; as for the details of such quests, it was unlikely that anyone would have cared to disclose them for free. Those paying threads were prohibitively expensive; who would spend money for a one-time quest already completed by someone else?
But Brendel now remorsefully wished he had not thought that way back then.
Veronika, Bud the wizard, and a terrifying Andisha, now in addition to this BOSS of presumably greater power than the previous three combined, Brendel felt overwhelmed by an intense headache. He couldn’t help but wonder if this quest’s difficulty could afford to have at least a shred of decency.
This was merely an early narrative quest, wasn’t it?! He slapped his forehead, reflexively glancing around, trying to search for clues. However, upon turning back, he found Xi gazing at her hand in a daze, leaving him momentarily stunned— in Brendel’s memory, this red-haired girl did not have a habit of zoning out in such moments.
“Xi?”
“Uh?” Xi blinked, looking up.
Brendel thought she had discovered something and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I feel like I have something extra on my hand,” Xi said, looking worriedly at her hand. Brendel was startled, fearing it was the divine blood acting up again. However, he was puzzled; logically speaking, the effect of the Golden Apple should not wear off so quickly.
But when he inspected Xi’s arm closely, he noticed some strange golden patterns appearing on the girl’s arm. From any angle, these patterns did not resemble signs of divine blood eruption.
Rather, it looked like magic flowing subtly beneath her skin.
Brendel glanced at the patterns and felt a fleeting sense of familiarity, but he couldn’t recall where he had seen them before. After a moment of deliberation, he shook his head. “This isn’t divine blood; you needn’t worry. I think it’s the effect of the Golden Apple—”
He raised his head. “Therefore, your physical magic resonated with the magical tide. This is a good thing, not a bad thing.”
“A good thing?” Xi’s anxiety slightly eased. She knew Brendel would never deceive her, but she was still a bit confused about his words.
Brendel nodded. “Yes, I may have thought of a way to help you become an Elementalist.”
“But I’ll need to consult Lady Otales once she wakes up,” he couldn’t help but sigh here.
Otales, clearly an ethereal being, lacked the self-awareness usually associated with such spirits, insisting on a solid twelve hours of sleep daily—Martha above, ethereal beings shouldn’t develop wrinkles, right?!
……
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