Chapter 49: Act 41 – The Spy
“Brendel, what Romaine said might be true,” Freya reminded from the side.
Brendel knew very well that Romaine’s words could indeed hold some truth; his keen awareness had long since told him so. However, he thought to himself that he was just trying to lighten the mood with a joke. If the future Valkyrie princess was always so serious, she would age quickly.
He couldn’t help but glance back at Romaine, who also turned her gaze to him. To be honest, her curious look sometimes made him feel a bit awkward—especially since he had a guilty conscience.
Yet, deep down, Brendel genuinely liked this girl; seeing things through his own eyes made her seem surprisingly cute.
After a moment of contemplation, he turned back and said, “Let’s stop here for a while.”
“Stop for a while?” Freya asked. “But Madara’s army is right behind us. They’ll catch up in just two or three hours; we don’t have much time left, Brendel.”
But Brendel pulled out the signet ring from his pocket and waved it in front of them, answering, “It’s midnight now, and the city will be under martial law. This alone doesn’t prove anything. If we’re seen as Madara’s spies, then it’s all over, you understand?”
“Then what should we do?” Freya thought at least her efforts should have some use.
Brendel glanced at her. He knew very well he was just talking nonsense. How could Ridenburg not have noticed Madara’s invasion? The nobles wouldn’t be careless about their own safety; they simply preferred to hunker down and wait for support inside the city.
He remembered the Year of the Burrow Beasts (342), when the Blood Staff swept through eastern Karasu, leaving nothing but destruction in the Undead Army’s wake. The lord of Silver Horse City ordered the gates closed and ignored pleas for help from the eastern farms, leading to many impoverished farmers migrating west. That area remains desolate and empty to this day.
Despite that, these lords faced no repercussions afterward, or perhaps the royal family had long ceased to have the power to reprimand them even before King Obergo VII took the throne. This happened in the north of Golan-Elsen’s Karasu province, something neither Romaine nor Freya understood, but Brendel was well aware.
He couldn’t say his plan was actually to help Romaine rescue her aunt—though he would try to save others if given the chance. However, he held no hope of sending a warning to the garrison in Ridenburg; Brendel never considered himself a savior.
Hoping that these nobles would understand reason was as futile as expecting a sow to climb a tree. Back in the old era of Erluin, players had clashed with those arrogant nobles more than once, and even during the December Coup, some players were directly involved.
Brendel had never had a good impression of these guys.
However, he thought again; Freya might not share his views. He couldn’t help but take another look at her—the country girl, gripping her sword and staring blankly at the illuminated Ridenburg below, still trusted the kingdom at heart. That wasn’t a bad thing, but he worried she might act impulsively at a crucial moment.
But he spoke frankly; Freya might not believe him anyway, and it would only create a rift between them. Brendel didn’t want to argue. After thinking it over, he suddenly devised an idea. Of course, necessary preparations still had to be made.
He pretended to ponder for a moment and replied, “I’ve thought about it; it seems we have no choice. After all, we are citizens of Erluin, and we can’t completely avoid risks.”
“However,” he paused, “we still need to be fully prepared.”
Brendel’s righteous words left Romaine and Freya with no choice but to agree. Even the spirited ponytailed girl’s attitude inevitably softened a bit, looking at Brendel with gentle eyes, suddenly finding him not so shameless.
But only a genius would know that after saying this, Brendel secretly sighed in relief. He was surprised to find that he seemed to have found a balance between Brendel and his past self. He had never been one to stick rigorously to rules, but recently it felt like a great hand was pushing him forward mechanically, making it hard for him to breathe.
Yet with his growing strength and the spiritual cleansing in the dream of the Golden Magic Tree, the feelings of the past finally returned to him. He suddenly felt that he could handle problems more adeptly.
His way of thinking even incorporated some cleverness unique to Brendel.
This feeling was wonderful.
He took out the black walnut gargoyle statue, now with a small crack remaining.
He turned back and said, “You all should be prepared too. Freya, turn your ring around; that fire agate in the center is too eye-catching. Romaine, keep your dagger close; those lazy guards won’t search too carefully.”
“Should I turn my ring around too?”
“No need; no one will look at your shabby ring.”
“Brendel, those people are the guards of the city! Why do you seem to distrust them?” Freya couldn’t help but ask.
“It’s not that I distrust them; I’ve never trusted them. You’ll find out soon enough, but for now, just do as I say.”
Freya had never entered the city, but she felt somewhat that this was making a mountain out of a molehill. But now, Brendel was the authority, so she had no choice but to believe him.
While talking, Brendel took out the bits and pieces he had on him. Mainly, there were some small items scavenged from the noble’s remains that he hadn’t had time to identify. He found that the pipe was just an ordinary trinket and casually discarded it. The dark gray stone fragment, he didn’t even recognize—this wasn’t surprising. With thousands of material types produced, it was normal for Brendel not to recognize one.
However, the glass bead caught his interest; he discovered it was a container used after consuming a soul crystal. To put it simply, it was a storage magical item. The spell inside should be the ten-foot silence spell—this spell was very appropriate for bypassing some monster nests during outdoor adventures.
However, the awkward part for Brendel was that, as a warrior, he didn’t possess the ability to activate storage magical items. After hesitating for a moment, he tucked these items and the cards close to prevent them from being seized by those greedy gate guards.
He looked up at the sky; it was still early.
The three descended from the eastern side of Fendik Mountain, and buildings began to appear along the way. Mainly, these were farms immersed in the night across the wilderness and lonely houses of hired laborers. The fields stretched along both sides of the Pine River, one connected to another, with a few inns scattered in the wilderness—these inns were frequented only by passing adventurers and those engaging in dubious business.
Of course, aside from players, most adventurers themselves were also not very clean-handed. Moreover, even players, most NPCs mixed them up with grave robbers.
After walking in the wilderness for about an hour, the towering walls of Ridenburg suddenly appeared ahead in the night. Torches were set on the drawbridge beneath the towers, casting light for dozens of meters. Brendel signaled for Freya and Romaine to slow down, then they slowly emerged from the darkness at the edge of the firelight.
Guards on the city tower were chatting with each other, and faintly, a sound of snoring could be heard. Brendel was unusually aware of these sounds; he frowned, guessing that there were about seven or eight people in the tower.
As soon as the three appeared, the conversation stopped.
“Who are you?” The suspicion lingered for a moment before a soldier with a pointed helmet popped his head out from the tower and shouted down.
Romaine looked up, squinting her eyes, and noticed a black pine mark on the pointed helmet.
Brendel had said that the black pine mark indicated local troops. That soldier from the White-Mane Legion should have a wolf feather emblem; indeed, Brendel seemed to know everything, she thought.
“A man and two women. We came from the forest, my lord. We saw something strange. My wife and I were scared and wanted to enter the city for safety!” Brendel raised his hand and shouted up.
Freya felt embarrassed and angry at the back. What was with “a man and two women”? How crude! When she heard Brendel say they were his wives, she finally couldn’t help but quietly jab Brendel in the back with her sword sheath. That despicable guy must have done it on purpose.
She thought.
Romaine, on the other hand, didn’t mind; she probably thought being Brendel’s wife was not bad, since Brendel would protect her, wouldn’t he?
Brendel felt helpless; he had to say this to relax the guards. As for the following explanations, he, Freya, and Romaine were all different types, and he couldn’t very well say they were siblings; others weren’t foolish.
“Do you have weapons?” a voice called from the tower.
Freya immediately tightened her grip on her sword nervously. But Brendel, unhurried, replied loudly, “How could we walk in the forest without weapons? Besides, I used to be a militia man, my lord.”
The tower above fell silent, leaving only a long snoring sound.
After a while, a basket was lowered, and the guard shouted, “You need to remove your weapons and place them in the basket. Then we will pull you up one by one.”
Brendel nodded to Freya, signaling her to follow the orders. Though his Starlight Piercer was more exquisite, as long as he didn’t trigger its spells, no one would recognize it as a magical sword; after all, elven swords still had some reputation in the human world. After surrendering their weapons, a basket was sent down again, allowing them to ascend one by one. Brendel feared Romaine and Freya might suffer, so he took the initiative to go up first. Freya let Romaine go up next, and she was the last to be pulled up.
However, as soon as she was hoisted up to the tower in the basket, she saw Brendel and Romaine in a state where swords were drawn against them, and two guards were approaching with their swords drawn.
“What’s going on?” Freya was stunned and asked in surprise. She instinctively looked at Brendel, but didn’t expect him to turn his gaze aside and not respond to her question.
The ponytailed girl suddenly felt a bit flustered; she had always regarded Brendel as the backbone of the group, but now it seemed like the only decision rested in her hands. What should she do? Should she allow these people to detain them? Was this how they usually handled things?
“Brendel, answer me quickly! What are you thinking? Dammit!”
“Arrest them all! These people are spies from Madara!” But just then, Freya suddenly heard someone in the corner giving orders. She jumped in surprise and turned back to retort, “Do you know that Madara’s army has invaded?”
Brendel’s face looked grim. Although Freya had grown up, she was still a naive girl who hadn’t seen much of the world; just a few words had thrown her into disarray. She might think it was no problem, but she didn’t realize that the garrison of Ridenburg was most afraid of encountering someone reporting news from Buche’s direction.
These people wanted to suppress the news within the city so that they could shirk responsibility when the time came. Brendel understood very well; they thought they could be at ease, relying on Ridenburg’s high walls and strong fortifications, but little did they know the war was developing in an unimaginable direction.
“Wait, we’re not scouts!” Freya couldn’t help but defend herself, “We are militia from Buche, and we have the insignia of the Buche guard!”
But that voice completely ignored her, directly shouting, “Quick, take her down! Why are you hesitating?”
A person stepped out from the shadows, clad in a set of dull chainmail; the feathers on his pointed helmet showed he was the captain of this group.
However, this lecherous middle-aged man was eyeing Freya with a lustful gaze, thinking that he couldn’t have stumbled upon such good fortune. He certainly believed Freya was telling the truth, as the militia insignia was still visibly worn on her.
Who would have thought that even in the impoverished Buche, there could be such an outstanding woman!
He stroked his chin.
