Chapter 503: Act 251 – Yilian’s Tale, The Past History
Golden battle flags fluttered in the underground hall, their dazzling glow banishing the surrounding darkness; the brilliance washed away the shadows like the dawn, meticulously outlining every fine pattern of the silver magic circle on the marble floor. Andrigraphis, Repal, the Holy Angel, and the wind-element pseudo-dragon bathed in this light, witnessing the final defense of the Pendulum Man crumble like the darkness vanishing in the light.
But the true victory was not due to Brendel’s final strike.
The Pendulum Man still had strength left to fight; the sickly demons on the opposite side, from level sixty to seventy, still held the advantage against Repal and Andrigraphis, who had just manifested their elements. However, this defense self-collapsed because the Pendulum Man had fallen first. It was like a shaky building, collapsing with a loud crash.
Bathed in what seemed like newborn holy light, the Pendulum Man squinted, suddenly feeling that the entire world was drifting off its original path, and in this deviation, it too heavily fell toward the ground.
Brendel witnessed this scene.
At that moment, he suddenly realized that it could no longer hold on; it was merely clinging with a stubborn persistence at the last door before it fell. But this persistence crumbled when it realized that the decline was irreversible.
The demon holding the giant sword ignited itself in the face of Brendel’s summoned army, a burst of blue flame erupted from within it, turning it to ash in an instant.
Not far away, a golden halo lit up on the ground, revealing Yilian and her few scattered summons; the terrifying ancient god Imoku had vanished. But when the Senior Sister turned back, the first thing she saw was the fallen Pendulum Man, her face reflecting an emptiness.
Brendel saw this scene and knew she must be feeling heavy in her heart.
The Pendulum Man lay on the ground, the ticking sound from under its cloak growing weaker and weaker; it remained silent, unclear about its thoughts. Its spells and summons perished with its fall, the traces of its existence fading like an illusion, ultimately turning to white ashes.
Yilian approached. Her eyes were red, and she knelt beside the Pendulum Man on all fours. “Damn wooden fish head, what are you doing this for? I just don’t understand you, you fool!”
“I… was protecting the Master’s rules…” the Pendulum Man mumbled, its metallic voice rising and falling, “Every step of the Master is necessary. If he cannot defeat me, I will kill him. I cannot… betray… such a… great… sacrifice. The traversers cannot… afford… failure.”
The Senior Sister fell silent, unable to contain her sorrow.
“Do you have to die to recognize him? Are you satisfied now that you’re dying, you cursed clock monster! You clearly knew he was the traverser, the very first traverser to enter here in a thousand years, and also the last man. Why must you do such a pointless thing, you fool, idiot, moron!” The centaur lamia suddenly collapsed on the Pendulum Man’s body, wailing loudly.
“It is… precisely… because he is the last one, that I must be… more… cautious. The Master… has also left. So what do I… have… to cherish?” The Pendulum Man’s voice seemed to come from its broken body, intermittently expressing itself. “Yilian, you do not understand how much I… wish… to also be… a… traverser.”
Brendel stood silently beside them; his summons had regrouped behind him, but despite defeating their adversary, he felt no joy in victory. This victory belonged to an unexpected outcome, and Brendel himself was not prepared to accept it.
Saying they won would be better described as losing.
But the Pendulum Man seemed indifferent to the outcome. It glanced at Brendel, its expression still cold. “I… do not trust you, young man. You do… not know what a… real… traverser is like. But… I hope… you will… not let… me… down…”
It shook its head, let out a final sigh, and then fell silent.
In the hall, only the sound of the centaur lamia’s weeping echoed for a time; she cried unknowingly for how long before gradually settling her emotions. After pondering for a moment, she turned back to look at Brendel, the earlier frivolous expression now gone from this lady.
“You must want to know something, right?” she asked.
Brendel first shook his head, then nodded. He had encountered similar scenes in games before. The main storyline in Vaunte was about civilization confronting destiny, where the ancestors opened up history step by step, relying not on joy and laughter, but on bloodshed and sacrifice. He had seen too much of such heavy narratives.
But with so many thoughts, he finally turned it into this question: “You actually wanted to save it, didn’t you?”
The centaur lamia didn’t speak, pausing for a long while before answering, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to use you.”
“I’m not blaming you for that,” Brendel shook his head. “It’s fine.”
Hearing Brendel’s “it’s fine,” the centaur lamia suddenly felt a warmth in her heart. Looking at this human, she felt her sentiment understood, which eased her heart somewhat. But the companion who once accompanied her across the river of time now lay beside her, no longer capable of thought. Whenever she saw that stiff face, she recalled the times spent adventuring with her Master, vividly as if it were just yesterday. But now, that final attachment had vanished.
The centaur lamia couldn’t help but fall silent again, seemingly choked and unable to speak.
After a long while, she finally managed to say, “I’ve embarrassed myself… Young one.”
“Can you tell me what exactly happened here now?” Brendel nodded and asked. “This tomb, this underground hall, the magic circle on the ground, and you all; your Master is the traverser Chunximan, right?”
Yilian nodded.
“The Pendulum Man and I are both summons of the Master; we were once destiny cards. The Master took us to traverse several worlds, starting from a place called Tang Dekashi, in the Hiarza Kingdom—The Pendulum Man was the Master’s first creature card. It followed the Master much earlier than I did, but I was the Master’s most capable assistant because when it came to plotting strategies, I was much better than that wooden fish head.” The Senior Sister seemed to be reminiscing about the past and couldn’t help but smile proudly at this point.
“Traveling is not monotonous; we experienced many interesting things, along with battles, love, and friendship. But as the Master traveled from one world to another, time flowed, and the Master grew older. Travel became no longer as simple as at the beginning; our opponents became increasingly stronger, and the Master seemed to be searching for something—but neither I nor it knew what that was.”
“It knows a bit more than I do; the Master seemed to be fighting against some powerful existence. In any case, we finally arrived here, at Vaunte. After experiencing a world-shaking battle here, the Master chose to remain. Since then, they have been crafting the magic circle beneath our feet, taking decades before finally completing it. The tomb outside is merely a facade to conceal the project below; the tomb’s owner was a nobleman; I remember he was a very interesting young man, but decades later, he died due to illness and was buried in this tomb.”
Brendel listened, lost in thought. He knew that Vaunte was merely the term for this world of the game. In reality, the worldview of the Amber Sword was far beyond imagination. Since the Second Era began, people had always understood that beyond the mist behind the Black Forest, there were other worlds. Those worlds were quite significant under the protection of Madara, but aside from the traversers, no one could traverse between these worlds.
Thus, legends ultimately could only remain legends.
“And then?” Brendel asked.
“And then the Master chose to enter eternal rest here, not because his lifespan was exhausted, in fact, the life of a traverser is almost infinite. He was injured too severely and had to choose this place as his final resting place. Before resting, the Master granted life to me and the Pendulum Man, making us beings with a part of his power, but we are not true traversers.”
“The last task the Master entrusted us with was to guard this underground hall and not allow any mortals to enter. Until one day, someone with his strength appears. And that person,” the centaur lamia looked up at Brendel: “is you.”
“Me?” Brendel thought to himself, no way could this be a coincidence. The tasks in the Amber Sword require certain conditions to trigger. Especially regarding the player’s experiences, for example, if a Madara player were to seek Antinna with a letter from her father, even if they found her, Antinna might not follow the Madara side.
Because NPCs themselves, along with certain specific factors, influence the selection of task executors and the execution methods.
However, he soon felt that perhaps this was not coincidental at all. If it weren’t for the destiny cards, he wouldn’t be here. And if he were not a traverser, he wouldn’t have any interest in destiny cards. So there was some fate pushing things together, and some coincidences might not truly be coincidences over the long term.
“So what exactly is the purpose of this hall?” Brendel asked.
“We’re not sure what its exact purpose is. We only know that for the construction of this hall, aside from the Master, two other powerful beings also sacrificed their lives.” The centaur lamia recalled carefully and answered.
“Two powerful beings, were they both traversers?”
“No,” the Senior Sister shook her head, “but I have seen one of the women; she was incredibly powerful, not inferior to my Master.”
Brendel inhaled sharply; a being powerful enough to be comparable to a traverser—what kind of concept was that? If Chunximan could summon the rule projection of the ancient god Imoku, then his own strength had already far surpassed any unparalleled strongmen that Brendel had seen in his two lifetimes. From the dark dragon tormented by the land to the holy war up until now, Brendel couldn’t think of any legendary existence reaching this level.
Unless it was the dark dragon itself, but the dark dragon was not a woman.
Even if he took a thousand steps back, needing to sacrifice three individuals at the level of Chunximan to construct such a hall—what was its purpose? Brendel did not believe it was merely to leave a legacy of adversity; there must be some hidden secret beneath. But looking at the centaur lamia’s expression, she didn’t seem like she was lying to him; perhaps they truly didn’t know what was hidden below.
“Can you remember what era it was when you arrived in Vaunte?” Brendel thought for a moment and asked again.
The centaur lamia pondered carefully; this part of history was quite distant for her and recalling it was not easy.
“Well, I don’t know if their method of dating at that time was the same as the one you’re familiar with now. When my Master and I arrived in this world, according to the local people’s calendar, it should be the year 540 of Ocas.”
Brendel was momentarily taken aback; the Crusian had begun to use the method of epochs to date, which was a history lost to time. It was said that this new method of dating began to spread after the cerulean knights shattered the horizon, heralding the start of the Second Era. The creator of this new calendar was said to be Minren’s most outstanding sage, Tumen, and Brendel now knew that he was also a traverser. But this assumption didn’t hold much weight, as scholars’ research indicated that the new calendar was actually documented much later, only traceable back to the era of the Holy War.
Nonetheless, he had never heard of the “Year 540 of Ocas” in such a context.
“Okay, I admit I have never heard of such a dating method,” Brendel sighed and shrugged. He thought for a moment, “So were there any notable figures in history at that time that you know of?”
“The woman who came here with the Master was one, but I do not recognize her name. There was also another person, someone you should know as well—he was another traverser far stronger than the Master—young one, you control the inheritance of this person.”
“Tumen!” Brendel almost jumped up. “Tumen! By the gods, you arrived in Vaunte during the time Tumen was still alive? How many years ago was that? It should be between three thousand and four thousand years ago; wait, wait…”
Brendel pressed his hand to his forehead, feeling the temples starting to throb. “If I’m not mistaken, the dark dragon Odin hadn’t died back then, right…”
“Odin.”
The centaur lamia looked at him. “I’ve heard that name.”
…
(Correcting a mistake, the card of Lord Repal originally was already a silver rare card; I mistakenly described it as a common card yesterday. Therefore, after upgrading, it should be gold.) (To be continued. If you like this work, please visit QiDian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations or monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
