Chapter 403: Act 157 – Whose Swordsmanship (Part 2)
At this moment, Brendel truly wished to use the White Crow Swordsmanship to prove himself, but he found himself powerless. He felt a wave of helplessness—this Gray Saint Mephistopheles was indeed as terrifying as ever, pressing him relentlessly without giving him any chance to counter.
Not to mention executing the White Crow Swordsmanship, Brendel thought that if he made even the slightest extra move, he would likely be killed by his opponent’s sword. Although Mephistopheles intended to capture him alive, one could not underestimate the gravity of a sword duel.
Both sides calculated that the other would fight with everything they had; if one side held back even slightly, they would risk being killed. Such a situation was not something Mephistopheles had anticipated.
After all, who would expect an opponent fighting for their life to joke with their own life?
The Gray Saint had figured out that Brendel had to exert himself completely to defend against every blow, as only by doing so could he restrict the young man’s movements. And indeed, Brendel had already surprised Mephistopheles.
He could now be certain that this young man was a genius, and not just an ordinary one.
It wasn’t his arrogance; he had never seen a young man who could withstand three strikes from him. Not to mention the young, even many famous sword saints might not be able to so calmly endure his three strikes within the realm of Gold. After some exchanges, Mephistopheles had quickly discerned Brendel’s approximate strength.
However, this only reinforced his belief that Veronika would not easily give up on this young man. Even in the Cruz Empire, a genius possessing both golden strength and skills in swordsmanship and tactics in their early twenties was a rare find in hundreds of years.
Not to mention Veronika; even he felt a sense of regret for the talent, but unfortunately, he was a Cruz. A Cruz genius was an enemy to him.
Mephistopheles’s expression remained cold, but the speed of his sword increased.
At that moment, Brendel felt that Otales had just woken up with a yawn, and she said, “Hurry up, young one, give me control of your body. You can’t deal with this guy.”
“Is that okay?” Brendel thought quickly.
“It’s a bit problematic; your power level is way too far apart, but at least you won’t be without any means to fight back.”
“I mean, is it alright to force this method—didn’t you say that this isn’t the correct use of the Holy Mark, Lady Otales?”
“Of course, it’s been a month or two since the last time, so ten minutes should be fine.” Otales replied somewhat proudly, adding with a light hum, “What, do you look down on me, sister?”
“Not at all, Lady Otales,” Brendel replied, realizing that this was happening in the main material world. However, thinking back to when Otales had saved him in the Buche, he felt relieved: “Go ahead.”
The exchange of thoughts between them was completed in an instant. Mephistopheles’s giant sword had just collided with the blade of the Earth Sword in Brendel’s hand.
But in fact, at this moment, it was no longer Brendel who was in control of his body.
In that instant, Otales unleashed three strikes—transforming the Earth Sword in her hands into a shadow. With a thrust, a press, and a push, her speed was so fast that to outside observers, it appeared as if the Earth Sword had split into three in an instant, contacting Mephistopheles’s giant sword simultaneously.
‘Clang—’ The three sword strikes transformed into a single metallic reverberation.
Then, Otales unexpectedly utilized the momentum to retreat, floating away from the cover of the Gray Saint’s sword aura unscathed. At that moment, only mere seconds had passed since their engagement began.
Nearby was a profound, eerie silence.
The young onlookers were stunned, not to mention the nobles from the Erluin delegation in the distance; they seemed to just realize what they had witnessed.
Was that young man really from Erluin?
Were those two wielding mundane swordsmanship?
Although those nobles were lacking, joining this delegation meant they had some ability, especially as Lobolen came from a prominent family, his experience was not to be underestimated. He took a deep breath and immediately realized something—this young man was likely the most outstanding genius of Erluin in nearly three centuries, and he could not be allowed to perish at the hands of someone of unknown origins.
Although Brendel had just called out the name of Gray Saint Mephistopheles, in this world, there were many people with the same name. Furthermore, with Mephistopheles having kept a low profile for so many years, Lobolen not recognizing the opponent’s identity was quite reasonable.
But at that moment, he suddenly rushed out to shout, “Sir, wait! He’s not a Cruz…”
He initially intended to prove that Brendel was not a Cruz, but unexpectedly, before he could finish his sentence, the sword saint who had suddenly retracted his giant sword to rest on his shoulder had already spoken.
Gray Saint Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow and looked at Brendel with a hint of interest; without sparing a glance at the plump and loud Lobolen, he interrupted him and said to Brendel, “What a flash sword, descendant of Gilt—now the secret swordsmanship of the Cruz court is in your hands. What else do you have to say?”
At his words, the Erluin delegation immediately dropped their jaws in shock.
Lobolen stared at the young man, momentarily blank— the Cruz court’s secret swordsmanship, Flash Sword, originated from the legacy of the dragon race and was far more renowned than Erluin’s White Crow Sword, which was modified from the wind elf’s guards’ swordsmanship.
If the White Crow Sword might have a chance of spreading outside, then only direct descendants of Gilt could practice the Flash Sword throughout its history, as it belonged to the swordsmanship of the Flame King, one of the Eagle Empire’s prides.
At this moment, not just Gray Saint Mephistopheles, even the stout Erluin noble who had fought alongside Brendel from the wolf disaster couldn’t help but question whether this young noble was truly a Cruz.
Although Brendel appeared more like an Erluin.
In reality, aside from the pure-blooded Eagle Knight descendants with blonde hair and blue eyes, most Cruz and Erluin people bore great similarities, as they both originated from a shared ethnicity centuries ago.
Not to mention Brendel’s mother was from Cardalegu, and his ancestors were a branch of defunct Cruz noble exiles, making it truly hard to distinguish.
At this moment, Lobolen suddenly felt enlightened.
No wonder!
No wonder this young man dared to mercilessly reprimand that little princess from Huaye, no wonder he dared to confront Veronika openly, no wonder he didn’t see the lion of the Golden Mane Toquinin as anything.
So this young man was originally a Cruz, and not just any Cruz—in fact, he was a direct descendant of Gilt, the Flash Sword!
Cruz had not experienced a regime change like Erluin, where the Corvado dynasty replaced the Siphai dynasty, and due to the support of the Temple of Fire, it was only natural that the descendants of the Flame King continued to rule the empire.
In summary,
This young man was not only a Cruz but a member of the Cruz royal family!
Thinking of how before they had so brazenly sought trouble with a member of the Cruz royal family, Lobolen could not help but want to wipe the sweat from his forehead with his chubby hand.
He paused and hastily said to Brendel, a bit hesitantly, “Baron, please forgive us. We shouldn’t have offended you earlier—”
He didn’t dare to directly say Brendel was a Cruz to avoid provoking unwanted anger. However, in his opinion, Mephistopheles had already recognized Brendel’s identity, so whether he spoke or not made no difference.
But as soon as he spoke, Otales simply looked over with confusion, while Brendel, whose soul had returned to his body, nearly spat out bl**d.
d*mn it, this time it was true that one could not wash clean even if they jumped into the Yellow River!
“Lady Otales,” he couldn’t help but feel a bit speechless, “You—”
“What?” Otales felt slightly taken aback; she was not a fool. Hearing Mephistopheles’s strange inquiry and seeing Lobolen’s suspicious attitude, she naturally began to realize she might have done something foolish.
But what puzzled her was that the swordsmanship of the Flame King Gilt was at least a righteous sage’s technique; could it be that the descendants of the Flame King had already fallen to the point of being hunted by everyone?
But it didn’t seem that way.
“Aren’t you a wind elf? Why would you use Flash Sword?” Brendel weakly asked, “Generally, wouldn’t one use the swordsmanship they are most accustomed to?”
“That’s true,” Otales replied, “But young one, this body is after all yours. Most of the swordsmanship I practiced is suited for women, and Gilt’s swordsmanship is probably the most appropriate for you to maximize your abilities.”
“In such a scenario, I also have to strike fully to protect myself,” she replied mentally, “Besides, wasn’t it Flash Sword that I used at the Destiny Arena last time?”
Brendel nearly spat bl**d again. He had thought Otales was an unexpected savior, but as it turned out, this was the most incorrect decision.
But he also knew that Lady Knight had made no fault; though he racked his brain, he couldn’t figure out how this coincidence could have occurred.
This was just too coincidental!
However, saying more at this point was pointless; even the Erluin delegation now began to doubt his identity, and those centaurs and tree elves naturally had no capability to prove his identity.
At this moment, only Kuran, Antinna, and Xi could know he was telling the truth, as they had seen him use Flash Sword in the underground world.
But saying that, could Kuran, Antinna, and Xi truly be certain? Brendel knew that to them, he was also a mystery.
Moreover, even if the two ladies were willing to testify, Gray Saint Mephistopheles might not necessarily believe them, after all, in this sword saint’s eyes, they were all in cahoots.
Brendel glanced that way.
Xi seemed to want to come over but was pulled back by Antinna. This made Brendel breathe a sigh of relief; he was genuinely afraid that Xi might act impulsively. Whether Mephistopheles spared him because he still had use or would truly show mercy towards others was doubtful.
At that moment, Brendel understood that he had only one way left to prove his identity.
That was Princess’s silver brooch.
A true member of the Cruz royal family could never disguise themselves as a member of the Erluin royal knights.
However, displaying the Princess’s silver brooch here was obviously inappropriate. Brendel looked around and then said to Otales, “Lady Otales, do you have any techniques that can increase speed?”
“Of course, why?” Otales responded while keeping an eye on Mephistopheles.
“Find a way to lure that guy away from here, to a place with no one around,” Brendel replied.
“Young one, you’re being too fanciful,” Otales shook her head, “His absolute power exceeds you by far. Even relying on skills, I can only make up for a moment, we can’t escape—”
“Enough, Gray Saint Mephistopheles’s speed is his weakness,” Brendel replied confidently, “Although I can’t shake him off, leading him away should be more than enough.”
“Are you so sure?” The Lady Knight was slightly taken aback.
Brendel thought that if he weren’t sure, he would never have been able to complete the Black Iron Body mission back then, so he nodded, “Listen to me, Lady Otales. Go west from here, lure him to a place.”
Otales hesitated for a moment before nodding.
…(To be continued. For more details, please log in; more chapters are available. Support the author, support legitimate reading!)
