Chapter 418: Act 171 – The Legacy
“Pitifully foolish, do you really think you understand the blood of the source?” The mysterious figure sneered, as if too disdainful to speak directly to Brendel, muttering instead with a kind of amused pity, “It’s a common trait of humanity to weep without knowing their imminent death!”
If Brendel were not accustomed to such an arrogant tone, he might have been driven to grind his teeth in anger. In fact, he still did grind his teeth, forcing out a response from between clenched jaws: “You’re talking about the blood of the gods? It can’t be that terrifying, can it?”
The figure responded with an “Hmm,” and continued, “Your words are not sincere. Normally, you would think so, but given your current physical condition, how can you muster the willpower to suppress it?”
Brendel curled his fingers on the metal throne, his fingertips turning slightly white. He exhaled softly to calm himself, but the stranger was right; Brendel was indeed very tense—though this should be a world of mental constructs—before coming here, the blood of the gods was invading his body, even beginning to take control of his will.
The sense of impending death made his heart race, especially after being reminded by the other party.
“So,” Brendel asked.
“Let’s make a deal,” the figure said.
“A deal?” Brendel repeated.
“It’s rare to encounter someone who can access this world, even if he is a waste, he doesn’t seem like an ordinary one; I don’t know how you carry the blood of the Legacy within you, but since you are our descendant, I might as well lend you a hand.”
“Wait, Legacy? Descendant?” Brendel was momentarily taken aback—Fanzan claimed he was one of their descendants? Didn’t that imply that Brendel bore the blood of the Holy Alliance Nova Mayans?
What kind of person is this? The only connection Brendel could think of was his mysterious grandfather, but he was left pondering exactly how one could be linked to both Saint Ausoor and the Holy Alliance’s Saintly White Cross White Lion Empire. For a moment, he couldn’t help but remember all those chaotic royal relations.
Or could it be that Brendel’s family is a remnant of an ancient royal lineage from the Era of the Saints’ War?
But that didn’t seem likely; he wasn’t of silver lineage.
After thinking through all these chaotic thoughts, he finally raised his head to look at the person across from the throne and asked, “So, what are the terms?”
“Isn’t it quite clear?” The corners of the figure’s mouth lifted: “Being a descendant means you should understand your mission. My request is not complicated; all you need to do is accept the talent ‘Fool’.”
“Another Legacy.” Brendel frowned slightly, troubled by what the so-called ‘Path of the Legacy’ was—joining the Great Sanctuary? That was clearly impossible.
But the fact that the other party said he only needed to accept the talent ‘Fool’ surprised him a bit. Gaining a talent, according to the understanding in the ‘Amber Sword,’ should at least be considered a reward; such generous terms made him feel a bit on edge.
“What is this so-called talent of ‘Fool’?” he inquired.
The figure shrugged: “In this world, there are countless talents derived from bloodlines, races, and history,” he shifted in his seat, pointing to his own chest: “But background, luck, and fate are like invisible threads connecting everyone, determining the paths they will walk in life.”
“You should know what the twin goddesses are for, right?”
“Isn’t it the twin goddesses…?” Brendel silently cursed in his heart, though he didn’t dare say it out loud.
“Talent is akin to a mission; the mission of the ‘Fool’ is unique. This talent can be said to be named after me, but it’s not as superficial as you might think,” the figure’s voice dropped slightly: “As for what the ‘Fool’ is, you will naturally understand in the future—this ancient talent is the key to unlocking potential—”
He changed his tone: “The ‘Fool’ has seven meanings. The first corresponds to the war dragon Tiamat beyond the sky, symbolizing frenzy, and you can experience its power for yourself.”
Brendel looked at him skeptically: “Sounds nice, but what’s in it for you?”
“Heritage—”
“More heritage,” Brendel muttered under his breath.
“Oh?” The figure looked slightly taken aback: “It seems you already know some information, but I can’t be bothered to deceive you; finding someone who can truly inherit all of this is not easy, especially with strict bloodline limitations.”
“But don’t be too pleased with yourself; I can still choose not to save you, and time has no meaning for me anymore.”
Brendel was momentarily stunned; he had intended to seize the opportunity to negotiate conditions but had to hold back.
“So do you understand?” the figure asked.
“Can I refuse? Sounds more like a demon’s temptation.” Brendel replied sullenly.
“You don’t need to test me,” the figure shook his head: “Demons are my arch-enemies.”
Brendel froze: “Are you really Fanzan?”
A low laugh came from across the throne: “Imaginative.”
Brendel was truly stunned; he had always believed the other party to be Fanzan or at least one of the four sages. “Then who exactly are you?”
The figure did not answer him: “Don’t you want to know how to unlock the other six powers of the talent ‘Fool’?”
“You’ll tell me anyway, right?”
“Smart.”
Brendel bared his teeth, thinking to himself that this was the usual trope in games; what a clever thing to say.
“Just collect as many gray gemstones as possible. In fact, my soul was sealed in the gray saint stones after I died, but during the great war, the saint stone shattered, and the gray gemstones split into fragments; as long as you find them, it’s enough to acquire the complete fate seed of this talent.”
“Wait!” This time, Brendel finally couldn’t help but call a halt: “You said the gray gemstones are fragments of the saint stone.”
“Didn’t I mention that?” The figure answered nonchalantly.
Brendel felt as if he had turned to stone on the throne, gasping in cold air as he stared at the figure across from him, his expression dumbfounded.
“Y-you… you are…”
The figure nodded: “The Silver Elves call me Danorls; among witches, I am known as the Lord of Eternal Darkness and All Realms, but compared to that, I prefer the name Odin among humans.”
“Black, Dark Dragon…”
“Afraid?”
Brendel swallowed hard. In fact, he had fought against the shadow of the Dark Dragon once in the later stages of the game, but that had only been a projection of a residual consciousness, showing itself in the sky—that was part of a plot mission, and this was his first time seeing the Dark Dragon in human form.
He seemed quite similar to an ordinary person.
He hesitated; at that moment, he didn’t know what to think. According to the epic of the Crusian people, the Dark Dragon was a super evil lord whose sole ambition was to dominate the entire world—such a cliché plot.
But now, the protagonist of this cliché drama was right in front of him.
That name was probably the most frequently heard by him in the game, second only to Martha, so much so that his ears had grown calloused. He appeared to have grown accustomed to it in daily life, but the shock of actually seeing it was unparalleled.
“Well, it’s not that bad,” he instinctively replied, but quickly realized, “What do you want?”
“I’m already dead,” the Dark Dragon answered. “You should be asking what you want.”
Brendel was taken aback: “Are you really dead?”
The Dark Dragon nodded: “You should understand, what you see is merely the remnants of my consciousness left as information within the gray gemstones.”
“Damn, why does everyone like to play this trick?” Brendel sighed in relief. He always considered the Dark Dragon to be the ultimate boss, but listening to him brought to mind Tumen.
But thinking about this, he suddenly realized and asked warily, “Wait, if that’s the case, how can you help me deal with the blood of the gods?”
The Dark Dragon chuckled: “A joke, it’s just the blood of the source; that thing can’t truly harm you. As a legacy, your lineage is far nobler than those chaotic things—”
“Wait!” Brendel managed not to spit blood: “You mean to say you were just deceiving me?”
“Not quite; after all, the talent of ‘Fool’ is beneficial to you, isn’t it?” The Dark Dragon smirked conspiratorially: “Moreover, I also intend to give you a gift.”
What the hell!
Brendel was suddenly dumbfounded, feeling immense sorrow within: “Boss, do you know that in Vaunte, you belong to the category of despised rats? No matter whose fate you inherit, you can’t inherit yours; if that gets discovered, it’ll be the end of me!”
However, the Dark Dragon did not exchange further pleasantries. With a wave of his hand, a beam of golden light shot into Blendel’s heart.
“A gift for you, let that country bumpkin woman see what true godly blood is.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Brendel felt an excruciating pain in his chest. He gasped, cursing that damned final boss under his breath, but the terrifying pain abruptly pulled him from the mental world back into reality.
Meanwhile, Andisha was staring at Brendel in shock as more and more golden light surged into the black crystal embedded in his chest.
These beams of golden light seemed to flow from within Brendel, like golden blood coursing beneath his skin, awakening in an instant under the catalyst of the divine blood within him.
Then this light enveloped Brendel’s entire body, forming a gigantic cocoon of light.
The cocoon expanded and contracted, becoming increasingly bright inside, as if something were about to break out at any moment.
Andisha stood aside watching all this, her eyes wide in disbelief, “The blood of the High God! The blood of the High God!” she muttered to herself subconsciously: “The true blood of the High God!”
“Descendant of the divine people! How is this possible!” She held her breath, not daring to believe her own eyes.
But at this moment, the cocoon suddenly contracted violently, and Andisha’s expression changed as well—an indicator of divine power—she instinctively looked up, sensing an invisible divine power connecting with a certain constellation in the sky.
“Wait, not good!” It dawned on Andisha that she was not the only powerful person nearby; Veronika and Gray Saint Mephistopheles were both in the valley, not to mention the mist that she had seen from afar.
She immediately unleashed countless vines to attempt to block this unconscious divine power, but at that moment, the gigantic light cocoon suddenly expanded.
It was too late.
A dazzling beam of golden light shot skyward, the blinding golden pillar piercing the heavens, parting the clouds and pointing directly at the seventh constellation above the night sky.
The War Dragon—Tiamat.
…(To be continued. For more chapters and to support the author, please visit the site and read officially!)
