Chapter 408: Act 161 – Mist
The wall of clouds closing in indicated that magical power was flowing back, and the influence of the tides was becoming increasingly evident. Brendel raised his head to gaze at the multi-headed dragon of the saint looming within the mountains, occupying half of the sky, and for a moment he found it difficult to breathe.
Even if it was just a projection, this thing was at least level one hundred.
Neither he nor Otales spoke, as both were contemplating how to overcome the current predicament. Brendel scanned his surroundings and noticed a massive rock not far away; a slight sense of reassurance washed over him as he began to consider the possibility of hiding behind it from the saint’s dragon.
He took a deep breath to steady himself, mentally encouraging himself: there had been more dangerous situations in the game, and there was no reason to feel fear just because this was a single opportunity.
Like that time they assaulted the castle of Nilu Lishie in Madara, and later, the war at the Dragon’s Nest.
As long as he ensured that every step was perfect, Brendel recalled his past experiences and felt confidence return to his body—the adventurous spirit flowing in Sue’s blood began to burn brightly.
He took another deep breath, reached out to grab a tree root outside, and tried to quietly crawl out of the tree hole; beneath the layered canopy, he could only hope that this would allow him to evade the gaze of the enormous monster. Brendel crawled along the root system of the tree, preparing to inch his way out.
“Little one?” Otales was taken aback; she hadn’t expected Brendel to be so bold.
“Hiding here is not a solution; that thing won’t leave anytime soon, and it seems to have sensed something,” Brendel thought to himself. “I suspect that the Gray Saint and Veronika are still alive.”
“What are you planning to do?” Although she was speaking internally, the surrounding environment made Otales unconsciously lower her voice.
“First, let’s get behind that rock, then see if we can find a way to leave this place. As long as we get three or four miles away, the saint’s dragon should be unable to notice any movement beneath the forest,” Brendel replied.
That was quite a substantial distance; were you really that confident?—Otales looked at Brendel, but didn’t voice the question. She understood that once Brendel made a decision, he would have the determination to see it through, and she could sense the flicker of adventurous flame in the eyes of this young lord.
This aspect of Brendel was outside Otales’s perception, but she liked him much more than the steady and rational Brendel.
Without saying a word, Brendel cautiously crawled out of the tree hole. He lay low on the ground like a lizard in the mud, not daring to make a sound, sometimes feeling as if there were needles prickling his back.
Although the weather was clearly cold and dry, sweat still trickled down from his forehead.
It took Brendel several minutes to crawl out of the tree hole, followed by almost a minute to turn his head. After all this, he remained still, feeling his heart beating strongly and hollowly, the rhythm thumping out.
He waited for nearly half a minute, but the multi-headed dragon of the saint stationed in the valley seemed to have not noticed him. He finally breathed a sigh of relief and extended his hand toward the tree hole below:
“Come up, Xi.”
Xi was still in the tree hole below, unaware of what was happening above, anxiously waiting for Brendel’s signal. She raised her head to see Brendel reaching out to her, paused for a moment, then placed her hand in his.
“Xi, whatever you see later, you must not make a sound,” Brendel grasped Xi’s hand, reminding her seriously. He trusted this red-haired girl, but it was best to be cautious.
Xi nodded firmly.
Then Brendel pulled her up from the tree hole; indeed, when the girl saw the terrifying figure of the multi-headed dragon among the mountains, she was shocked, but she kept her promise and made no sound.
Brendel gave her a thumbs up as a sign of praise.
But this was merely a successful beginning.
He led Xi carefully out of the tree hole, hunching down as they navigated through the irregular roots of the tall trees, inching closer to that rock. The distance from the tree hole to the rock was only twenty-three meters; usually, this distance would be covered in the blink of an eye, but this time the journey felt as if it lasted for a century.
The multi-headed dragon of the saint stood in the valley, slowly turning, its enormous tail sweeping across the forest above their heads more than once, causing both of them to break into a cold sweat.
Just as their figures melted into the shadows behind that massive rock, they felt almost a sense of complete exhaustion; for Xi, it was manageable, but Brendel felt his back drenched in sweat.
He let out a long breath and began to plan their next move. His gaze crossed a patch of tree shadows, thankfully, the Black Forest was dense, and there weren’t too many open areas.
He considered approaching the northern ridge; if he could enter the valley on the other side from there, it should be enough to evade the saint’s dragon’s watch.
The distance was less than two miles, half of what he had initially estimated.
However, there were some troubles in between. They would need to cross a small creek that ran through the valley, and if the bushes on either side of the bank did not provide adequate cover for both of them, the operation would become extremely dangerous.
But after weighing the pros and cons in his mind, he decided to proceed—indecision on the battlefield was not a good habit. An excellent warrior must first have confidence in himself—if he couldn’t even believe he could succeed, then he likely wouldn’t.
Brendel happened to be among the best of player-warriors.
He and Xi rested behind the rock for about a minute, during which the multi-headed dragon of the saint was slowly advancing along the valley, seemingly searching for something, its fifteen heads swaying in the air.
The two dared not make a sound; after silently counting fifty seconds, Brendel signaled to the red-haired girl next to him, then the two of them dashed out like a flash.
They landed in the shadow of a massive oak tree, holding their breath, as if awaiting the decree of fate.
But the multi-headed dragon still did not notice them; that white mountain had already moved halfway into the valley, its movements seeming clumsy and slow, but Brendel knew this was an illusion.
—If you can step over a distance of over a hundred meters in one stride, you would understand that “slow” is merely a relative term.
Brendel’s next target was a grove of hornbeam trees by the river, with the dense foliage of the hornbeam providing the best cover for hunters traversing the mountains.
They quietly made their way to the river’s edge through the grove when Xi accidentally stepped on a dry branch. When the crisp ‘snap’ echoed, both of them felt as if they had been struck by lightning.
Fortunately, luck was on their side this time; the multi-headed dragon seemed to have noticed some movement on the other side of the valley. It raised its fifteen heads and let out a roar in unison, slowly turning toward that direction.
The white, misty tail swept across the forest again.
Was it Veronika or Mephistopheles? Brendel wasn’t sure, but at that moment, he could only wish them good luck, seizing the chance to dash forward, with Xi closely following behind. They quickly crossed over a patch of one-person-deep mugwort beside the grove, which continued to the exposed pebbles near the creek in the valley.
The creek was almost just several feet away; both were a bit out of breath. Although they had run no more than a mile, given their stamina, they should not feel fatigued, but the heightened tension had accelerated their exhaustion, leaving both feeling somewhat overwhelmed.
When Brendel reached the edge of the creek, he turned back to take a look. At this moment, the straight-line distance between them and the mountain-like multi-headed dragon was about the length of this valley—roughly two to three kilometers.
It sounded far, but for this mythical creature, it was merely a few steps. The tail of this colossal beast was likely nearly a thousand meters long.
This thing was impossible to fight; in Brendel’s memory, perhaps only the evil dragon with a lair diameter reaching several hundred miles could rival it.
He slapped his face, pulling himself back from the brutal hunting experience known as the War of the Dragon’s Nest. The multi-headed dragon was attacking something at the other end of the valley; its fifteen massive heads pierced the clouds above, occasionally diving toward targets a kilometer below.
This puzzled Brendel. Veronika and Mephistopheles couldn’t have run that far in an instant—could there be someone else?
With that doubt in mind, he turned back, parted the bushes, and was about to step out, but at that moment, Brendel suddenly felt a tremendous force coming from his left. He felt a tightness in his shoulder—instantly realizing that there were others in the brush, but his reaction was slightly delayed, and the force had already grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Lord!” Xi exclaimed as she saw a hand shoot out from the bushes and instantly pull Brendel in, startled. She instinctively drew the short sword from her boot.
But she immediately recognized a familiar face.
Veronika had one hand gripping Brendel and the other holding a sword pointed at Xi’s chest.
“Lady Veronika?” Brendel was first taken aback when he saw who had grabbed him—he hadn’t forgotten losing the three important figures from the Cruz Empire, and he knew better than anyone that at least two of those young ladies and gentlemen had already been killed by the withering lord.
“Shh,” the empire’s warrior goddess said with a serious expression, glancing at the sky above, then lowering her head to speak to the two of them. “If you want to live, don’t make a sound!”
Brendel was stunned at first but suddenly realized something. He raised his head and followed Veronika’s gaze, noticing that while the multi-headed dragon was attacking something at the other end of the valley, the mist surrounding it was gradually spreading, covering the entire forest.
It was becoming misty!
Brendel was greatly shocked; he had initially thought that the mist was merely a projection of the ancients, but it now seemed entirely different.
Veronika’s warning made him understand that it might not be an ancient god beast after all, but rather the mist itself within this valley.
This was what the druids had encountered.
Brendel immediately made that connection.
He lowered his head to look at Veronika, understanding that this woman had saved his life. If that mist really was part of the multi-headed dragon, then the entire valley should be under its watch at this moment.
As soon as he left the densely wooded area, he would be immediately spotted.
But why did Veronika save him?
……(To be continued. For more details, please log in; for more chapters, support the author and support genuine reading!)
