Chapter 466: Act 215 – Preparing for War (End)
After the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars reached level seven, Brendel abandoned any plans for further immediate advancements. Level seven requires an experience total of 250,000, which, even considering Brendel’s rate of drawing from the Book of Mavikalte, he would struggle to keep up with. At level seven, the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars can produce eight illusions, each with an attack power reaching 50%, only a step away from the maximum nine illusions.
Brendel also discovered that the duration of the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars’ illusions was related to the level of his swordsmanship. When he first learned the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars, each illusion lasted about 0.23 seconds, but by level seven, the duration had increased to almost one second, improving by approximately 0.1 seconds per level.
Moreover, using the illusions to execute skills drains his mana. It appears that the mana required is equivalent to the stamina needed, with a charge costing 6 points and a piercing attack 20 points; mana itself is significantly less than stamina, not to mention when nine illusions charge simultaneously. Brendel has 250 points of mana, but a single charge from all nine illusions consumes nearly half of it, while a single piercing strike could deplete almost all of his mana.
If the illusions were to use magic—though their duration is insufficient to utilize most spells—Brendel happened to have the skill of Bark Toughness, which functions similarly. He tested it with Bark Toughness; it seemed the mana consumed by the illusions when using magic was doubled. Brendel himself spends 50 points of mana for one point of armor, while the illusion would use 100 points.
He also experimented and found that the illusions could not use the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars to create more illusions nor could they initiate a positional exchange with him.
After fully understanding the workings and limitations of the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars, Brendel began looking for someone to practice this sword technique with. The most familiar option was the old swordsman Kuran, but after two days of sparring, Kuran declared he didn’t want to continue. Since Brendel returned from the Loop of Trade Winds, his own strength had basically reached mid-level Gold, and the peculiar nature of the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars made Kuran get completely overwhelmed in their duels—normal people were reluctant to engage in such one-sided beatings, let alone a Gold-tier swordsman like Kuran maintaining his dignity.
As a result, Kuran didn’t show up the next day.
Without Kuran, Gray Saint Mephistopheles arrived, having heard somewhere that Brendel was practicing swordsmanship. The Gray Saint never beat around the bush and asked to spar with Brendel right away. Brendel found it odd, as there was not much to discuss with the Gray Saint regarding swordsmanship; their skill levels differed too vastly, and it would be more accurate to say he was there to guide him.
However, this offer was too good to pass up where no one else would be available, and to Brendel’s surprise, Mephistopheles actually lowered his skill level and patiently sparred with him. As a sword saint, he was far more discerning than Kuran, and as soon as Brendel demonstrated the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars, Mephistopheles’s eyes altered—Ancient Inheritance. He patiently engaged with Brendel, addressing each of the openings in his sword technique.
There was not much Mephistopheles could say about the Wind Queen’s Nine Stars, as its ancient skills had already exceeded his level, but he was a master of military swordsmanship. In fact, military swordsmanship across nations during this era was quite similar, as they were based on fundamental skills. The difference in details, however, allowed professionals to determine which country’s swordsmanship they belonged to.
Mephistopheles had practiced the military swordsmanship of Cruz since childhood, which had roots in Erluin’s techniques. After his guidance, Brendel surprisingly sensed a loosening in his long-stagnant military swordsmanship level. This made him both excited and curious; the benefits of advancing his military swordsmanship from level sixteen could be monumental. He was also curious how every sword saint seemed to have their own understanding of swordsmanship—Otales was like so; the Gray Saint, too. Their insights seemed particularly beneficial for advancements beyond level fifteen.
Brendel couldn’t help but think if he sought out all of Vaunte’s sword saints to gather their insights, would his swordsmanship instantly ascend into the holy domain?
Of course, this was merely a thought. There weren’t many individuals capable of being dubbed sword saints across the entirety of Vaunte—there were still dozens, but among them were those with bizarre temperaments and even some evil fellows. Compared to the Gray Saint Mephistopheles, they were practically ordinary. It was an impossible task to earn the acknowledgment of all these individuals. Among the sword saints Brendel knew, there was Veronika, but he wasn’t sure if this legendary female warrior of Cruz would look upon him favorably enough to impart her sword techniques to him. Although she had jokingly suggested teaching him, the prerequisite was that he become a citizen of the Empire, which was impossible.
With a crisp sound, as Brendel ruminated, his Earth Sword clashed against Mephistopheles’s gray sword, the tremendous force nearly made him lose grip and drop it. He quickly retreated, and three illusions immediately interlaced with him, taking a step forward to block Mephistopheles’s continued attack, allowing Brendel to escape a calamity.
Mephistopheles watched as the three illusions vanished before him, opting not to press further. Sheathing his sword, he looked at the panting Brendel, “Were you distracted just now?”
Brendel nodded, catching his breath: “Yes.”
“Then we’ll stop here for today,” declared the Gray Saint decisively.
Brendel nodded again but stood up and couldn’t resist asking, “Lord Earl, while we haven’t spent much time together, it’s been almost half a month since the Loop of Trade Winds. I’m aware of your character; someone like you would never bow or show goodwill to anyone on your own initiative, right?”
The Gray Saint remained silent, implying acceptance of Brendel’s assertion.
“You should realize my nature as well. I don’t mind joking about trivial matters, but since I promised Lady Veronika to help you restore your country, I will definitely not go back on my word or deliberately delay.” Brendel paused: “I believe your visit today is actually about guiding my swordsmanship…?”
“When do you plan to leave the forest?” Mephistopheles asked instead.
“The Druids have prepared their weapons, and the elves and human mercenaries are ready to go. However, the issue of transportation for so many troops remains. Even with the abilities of the Druids and the Treants, we cannot find so many flying steeds right away.” Brendel frowned; Mephistopheles had brought up his greatest concern. They had an army now, but how to get it out quickly was a major problem—he wouldn’t forget they were deep in the Black Forest, at least a month’s journey from the Erluin border. “But by the latest, in a week, I must let the army depart, at least part of it.”
Mephistopheles nodded: “I heard about the troubles your territory is encountering. How confident are you in winning?”
So, he’s afraid I might lose? Brendel realized, giving Mephistopheles a side glance as he queried: “Speaking of that, I’ve always wanted to ask—you, Lord Earl, though I don’t know what agreement you made with the Duke of Cruz, you chose my side. You do know that I have enemies all over Erluin, and perhaps aligning with me isn’t a wise choice?”
Mephistopheles’s gray eyes lingered on Brendel. The young man’s wit reminded him of the younger Veronika, and it was no wonder that woman valued him so much. He rarely smiled: “Captain, you have many enemies, while I have only one. What do you think?”
Brendel was taken aback, then couldn’t help but laugh. Indeed, the reclusive Gray Saint only ever had one enemy—Cruz Empire. Mephistopheles feared that massive entity but had no reason to be concerned about the small fry within Erluin.
“Then, what do you mean, Lord Earl?” Brendel inquired.
The Gray Saint looked at him seriously and asked, “I came to ask you if you would accept my legacy and become my swordsmanship heir.”
“What?”
Brendel was instantly dumbfounded. He held back the urge to touch his face to see if his appearance had changed since coming out of the Loop of Trade Winds, wondering why he seemed suddenly so popular. However, having received teachings from the ancient hero knight Otales beforehand, he was not surprised to the point of being speechless to have a sword saint declare his desire to accept him as a disciple.
He quickly calmed down, his mind processing that Mephistopheles’s move might have political implications. To put it simply, it still related to the restoration of his country. He knew that although the Gray Saint was not politically inclined, his desire to restore his nation was purely based on personal beliefs, displaying a rare integrity in this era. However, that didn’t mean this Earl was a fool. Mephistopheles understood that while he might provide protection to the duchy during his presence, he could not continuously invest his energy in leading a country; his lifelong pursuit, to put it bluntly, was still swordsmanship.
Brendel, however, was different; anyone could see that he was primarily a lord and secondarily a swordsman, not even a true swordsman himself, and perhaps even less dedicated to the pursuit of swordsmanship than Kuran. This was indeed true. If Brendel had the experience of becoming a powerful wizard, he wouldn’t necessarily choose swordsmanship. What he sought was power that could help Erluin rise, rather than an ethereal path to mastery.
Therefore, conversely, Mephistopheles pointed out Brendel’s similarity to Veronika, which actually hinted at this sentiment. Veronika, like Brendel, was primarily a military person, a general and a duchess of the Empire, and only secondarily a sword saint. Thus, the difference between her swordsmanship and Mephistopheles was vast; he was a well-known sword saint, while Veronika held far greater fame under the title of “Goddess of War” than she did as the “Blue Sword Saint.”
Understanding this, Brendel completely calmed down. For the Gray Saint to accept him as a disciple was undoubtedly a good thing. Without a doubt, Mephistopheles’s swordsmanship was systemically unique, and at the very least, it was at a higher-than-intermediate level. Additionally, having such a powerful figure as a backing was also advantageous.
However, Brendel had already accepted Otales’s legacy; she could overlook matters regarding the Dark Dragon because they were contemporaries, a kindred spirit in understanding. But would the lady knight be able to accept someone she perceived to be less formidable placed on equal footing with her? It was uncertain.
Unexpectedly, to Brendel’s surprise, Otales did not oppose it.
“I suggest you accept,” Otales expressed after Brendel inquired. She felt a bit of satisfaction, as it indicated Brendel viewed her not merely as a spirit but as a teacher. Though an ancient spirit who had endured a thousand years of time didn’t typically mind such things, finding a youthful successor possessing excellent qualities made her quite content. “Mephistopheles’s swordsmanship is quite special, distinct and self-contained. Moreover, my perspective is limited to a thousand years ago, and Odin only endowed you with the legacy of bloodline. Comparatively, what he knows might help you more. You needn’t worry too much about my opinion; for me—your sister—seeing you grow stronger is what I truly wish for.”
“Thank you.” Brendel felt a bit touched; Otales’s concern felt like a sisterly protection.
However, he did not immediately agree but said to Mephistopheles: “Thank you for your kindness, Lord Earl, but please allow me a day to consider.”
Mephistopheles displayed an appreciative glance. He was confident in his swordsmanship. Normally, someone hearing he wanted to accept a disciple would likely be elated to the point of fainting. Yet Brendel remained calm; it was crucial to always retain composure in swordsmanship, as it was for a lord.
“That’s perfectly fine, but you should understand that my desire to pass on my swordsmanship is not merely because you are the future lord. Nor is it because I need your assistance in restoring my country. Rather, I genuinely believe you are exceptional enough to inherit my swordsmanship. Although we haven’t spent much time together, I trust Veronika’s judgment.” He reflected before adding another remark.
“You and Veronika have known each other for a long time?” Brendel unintentionally blurted out, regretting how gossipy it seemed. He had difficulty shaking off the habit left from his player days.
Unexpectedly, Mephistopheles wasn’t bothered by the question, nodding: “In my duchy, we were once a vassal of the Empire. When I was young, I completed my studies in the Empire, where Veronika was my classmate.”
“What?” Brendel’s curiosity ignited, unable to suppress his astonishment. He had only known Mephistopheles as Cruz Empire’s nemesis, frequently clashing with Veronika, yet here they seemed to share a background as childhood acquaintances.
Just as he was considering further questions, Mephistopheles interrupted the conversation, saying: “Do you remember when I asked you when your army could set off?”
“Hmm?” Brendel looked at this seemingly emotionless sword saint with confusion.
“This isn’t a problem. The two great mages of the Silver Alliance remaining at the Green Tower—Master Turiman has a connection with me, or rather, he owes me a favor. I can have them assist,” Mephistopheles replied.
“Temporary teleportation array!” Brendel leaped up. The thought of teleporting over a thousand people seemed incredulous. If Turiman and William combined forces, they could surely transport several hundred people at once, with the remaining individuals using flying steeds. This would effectively resolve the transportation issue!
He had delayed here for so many days, and simply put, the main problem was getting everyone out of the Black Forest as quickly as possible. While the Druids had been gathering flying steeds, how could the Green Tower possibly find so many after the recent Wolf Disaster?
However, Brendel quickly caught himself, asking suspiciously: “But Turiman is one of the People of Silver, according to the Sacred Covenant; they shouldn’t interfere in mortal disputes.”
He was curious about how Mephistopheles would respond, but to his surprise, the usually stern sword saint raised a finger to his lips and gestured for silence—an unmistakable sign that they could keep this a secret.
Brendel was momentarily speechless. Cheating!? This was definitely cheating—unbelievable…
…
(PS: 4500 words, the preparations for war conclude here. Next, the grand battle of Duke Toniger is about to unfold. Although Count Rendener’s forces are vast, Madara is undoubtedly the true threat. How Brendel will confront Instalung and emerge from this battle onto the stage of history remains to be seen. Stay tuned for the continuation.)
