Chapter 52: Act 44 – Isn’t It an Escape from Prison?
Three people emerged from the cells and watched as Brendel effortlessly dealt with the three patrolling guards on this level, the entire process quiet and skillful to an impressive degree. Freya had always suspected that Brendel must have undergone special training before, but did Highland Knights need training for this?
The dark prison beneath the barracks originally housed very few people, and the security was quite lax – there was another dungeon in Ridenburg used for imprisoning common criminals, while this dark prison was primarily for deserters and bandits. However, the army typically handled these individuals through on-the-spot execution, so this place hadn’t been utilized much since its construction, and the guards were merely going through the motions.
But in the game, this dungeon was specifically used to imprison players, and the scene here was completely different; it was overcrowded. If one were to identify a significant enemy of the Whitemane Legion other than Madara in the game, it would surely be such a dungeon.
After dealing with the patrolling guards, the four made their way to the center of this level. The guard managing the keys was taken aback when he saw a few people walking out of the shadows, instinctively turning to draw his sword from the wall.
However, Brendel immediately raised his protective gloves to block the sword, a layer of glowing blue light emerging from the gloves to intercept the guard’s blade. The blue light was about the size of a football and seemed to emanate a force pushing against the sharp longsword.
The Whitemane light infantry was startled, and in his shock, the sword in his hand was seized by Brendel. Then the young man pushed him outward, causing him to slam against the wall and groan before losing consciousness. To Brendel, these were just ordinary soldiers; he held back his strength, simply incapacitating them with one blow.
Freya, watching from behind as he took down the last enemy, couldn’t help but exclaim, “So you’re this strong, Brendel—if it weren’t for this escape, I would have still been looking up at the sky from the bottom of the well.”
“You’re not too bad yourself; there’s no need to belittle yourself. As a White-ranked swordsman, your skills would already suffice to join the guard,” Brendel said as he found the key to the upper level from the guard.
“White-ranked swordsman?”
“It means unranked,” the young man Charles explained from the side, “Swordsmen are categorized into three ranks: Black Iron, Silver, and Gold, corresponding to the ranks of squire, knight, and upper knight; while Black Iron swordsmen are referred to in Erluin as knight reserves, and any noble descendant with a bit of potential is sent to serve in the households of great nobles.”
“Traditionally, swordsmen of this level are entitled to not remove their hats when greeting lower nobility such as gentry or lords, but this tradition has almost fallen into neglect over the past half-century. Below Black Iron, there are no ranks. Generally, your guards and militias are at this stage, just with differences in hierarchy.”
“I see,” Freya said, enlightenment dawning on her; her previous view had been confined to being the best among the militiamen, and now it was broadening.
However, Charles wasn’t finished speaking; sensing his lord’s intentions in cultivating this girl, he continued, “Black Iron swordsmen represent the first level of power (3–20 ‘Oz), Silver swordsmen represent the second level (20–100 ‘Oz), and Gold swordsmen represent the third level (100–500 ‘Oz). Our wizards correspond in this way with intermediate wizards, first-ring wizards, and second-ring wizards, with priests and other professions also following similar classifications. In fact, this class division isn’t standardized by a single country but is strictly defined by the Temple of Fire.”
Freya and Romaine couldn’t help but blink in surprise, unaware there were so many intricacies involved. However, such knowledge wasn’t rare among commoners; it was just that Buche was too remote.
“Keep in mind that in those powerful empires, such as Gruz and Bansay, the soldiers of standing legions are at least lower Black Iron, with few captains below Silver. However, in our Erluin, even more than half of the frontline soldiers in border legions do not reach Black Iron swordsman levels, and even captains serving as knights are only at a middle Black Iron level,” Charles added with a pointed remark.
“Charles, if that gets out, we could be executed.”
“Lord, if you’re not afraid of execution, then as your squire, I naturally should not fear either,” the young man cleverly replied, continuing, “Surely the lord has the level of a Black Iron swordsman, which is quite rare at your age. It is a great honor for Charles to follow such an outstanding person.”
Brendel thought to himself, whether born as an enlightened one or a chosen one, those with knightly talent weren’t particularly incredible. If anything, his achievement could be seen as peculiar if completed within a few days, yet Charles didn’t know that. Nevertheless, being flattered felt quite pleasant, and Brendel had no desire to expose the truth.
After all, the slightly surprised gazes of Romaine and Freya were indeed somewhat satisfying, weren’t they?
Charles glanced at the unconscious soldier on the ground and quietly asked, “The inmates in cells 5, 17, and 22 seem to still have other prisoners; should we free them to help us escape, Lord? The more people there are, the greater the chance of success if the outside is the barracks.”
Freya immediately shot him a glare; what a terrible suggestion this was. Didn’t Brendel say that those imprisoned here were truly criminal?
“No need. The more people, the more they will influence my plan,” Brendel confidently replied.
“As you wish.”
Brendel turned back and asked, “Romaine, do you know where your aunt is?”
Romaine shook his head. “I don’t know, but I heard she is staying at a cousin’s house?”
“Where is that cousin located?”
“I know, in the Bonoan market. I heard from my aunt that this person seems to be a distant relative of Romaine’s aunt, a wool merchant named Hood,” Freya answered.
Brendel looked at Romaine. “Your family has a tradition of merchants, huh?”
Merchant Miss responded with a sweet smile.
Now that they had determined their destination, things became straightforward. The first layer of the dungeon beneath the barracks was even smaller and had only one guard—a factor that reassured Brendel that the four additional guards on the next layer had been added temporarily because of them. After clearing this level, they continued upward into the interior of the barracks.
Brendel was quite familiar with this place; he adeptly retrieved Freya’s half-body armor of Wind Queen from the temporary storeroom, then armed everyone with swords from a nearby stash. It was unfortunate that he lacked experience in knocking out those soldiers; otherwise, he wouldn’t have minded waking them up just to knock them out again.
During this time, Charles proposed more than once to rally the prisoners in their cells, suggesting they could take the opportunity to escape amidst the chaos: it was simple reasoning; dealing with one or two Whitemane light infantry would certainly be easy with a sudden attack. But once they were outside in the courtyard, it would be truly difficult for just the four of them to fight their way out.
However, Brendel rejected the idea each time.
In their conversation, they had stealthily entered the highest level of the barracks. Brendel opened the wooden door of the tower’s top level and stepped outside—there was an open walkway with temporary defensive walls on either side. Without looking, Brendel knew that below there was a tributary of the Yusong River within the city, and from here one could view about one-fifth of the city area.
However, he was not there to enjoy the scenery; they had knocked out seven guards along the way, and given the training level of the Whitemane Legion, they would likely discover something was amiss in about ten minutes. Brendel looked up at the sky; the moonlight was beautiful tonight, and the thick cloud cover could not obscure the silvery disk in the night sky.
“What are you doing, Brendel?” Freya couldn’t help but poke him from behind, finding it unlikely that this guy had come out just to admire the moon. Though it seemed unlikely, given his notorious past, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
She glanced at Charles next to her; the young man was also standing quietly beside his master, looking up at the sky. The master and squire shared an uncanny understanding.
“The moonlight is lovely tonight,” Brendel replied casually.
“You—” Freya bit her teeth in frustration, really wanting to punch this guy in the face to see if he could still smile.
“Aunt said that the moon is called Loka. Loka was born because of Yilian, who is Alice’s sister—twin goddesses. Because of the moon, this world is filled with mystery,” Romaine said, gazing up at the moon with her delicate face.
“Your aunt knows a lot,” Charles responded, “This is a secret passed among wizards in this world; there is a book called ‘Dark Epic’ that tells of events from countless ages past.”
“Do you mean Romaine’s aunt is a wizard?” Freya was taken aback.
“Not necessarily, but someone related to magic. Some country witches know bits of these rumors,” Charles replied.
The long-tailed girl glanced at Romaine, who seemed oblivious as he stared dreamily at the moon. However, Freya thought that Aunt Jennie did indeed have a certain air of mystery about her; she often brought back odd things from outside. The villagers all said she was a witch and seldom interacted with her family.
But Brendel, listening to the three of them, had an odd phrase appear in his mind:
XVI: THE TOWER—
The lost ‘moon’ took away the light.
He paused for a moment, thinking he might be hallucinating. Shaking his head, he quickly sought to suppress it, yet he could not help but recall the dream he had on that night when he had fainted.
In the midst of tranquil darkness, everything in the dream appeared bizarre and surreal. Yet only a black moon and a tranquil high tower stood firmly, spanning the entirety of this dream.
After that, he had met Freya. Just as he thought of this, he heard Merchant Miss gazing at the moon saying, “Something is coming, Brendel.”
The other three looked up.
After waiting for about twenty seconds, all present heard a deep sound of wings flapping in the sky. Freya felt puzzled and uneasy, but Brendel and Charles remained calm, especially Brendel, who lifted his head.
The next moment, a gargoyle with wings leaped out from the clouds beneath the moonlight. This stone demon spread its wings in the bright moonlight, above the clouds, forming a composition full of mysterious aura in the eyes of the three—
“Brendel, that’s your gargoyle!” Romaine immediately recognized it.
“Hmm, are you afraid of heights?”
Merchant Miss quickly shook her head.
“What do you want to do, Brendel?” Freya suddenly thought of something, her face paling.
……
Lord Jinguo sternly barged into the Burnley home, where a self-proclaimed noble of merit and industry was examining an exquisite brass armor with a magnifying glass; after all, the armor styled in the year of Return of Radiance was invaluable in any collector’s hands.
Burnley casually took back his magnifying glass, glanced at his companion, and said with some mockery, “What’s going on, did that guy sneak out of the city overnight?”
“It’s not that serious; a few prisoners escaped tonight!” This mention made Seber angrily unable to contain himself; in fact, it wasn’t just about this, but that lunatic had come to his mansion, shouting hysterically.
“That’s just a trivial matter; how did they escape?”
“I’m not mad about that,” Lord Jinguo shook his head, took a deep breath, and said, “What infuriates me is that the Whitemane Legion’s ‘Tiger’ Lukesons came to shout at me, saying I had locked away a descendant of Highland Knights in his dungeon. Does he think I’m trying to create trouble for him?”
“Highland Knights?” Burnley was taken aback.
“Yes, he claimed one of those three was a Highland Knight. And his Mage squire is with him. By the heavens, he even came to me demanding that I can’t touch that person and that he must get him into his regiment,” Lord Jinguo was practically ready to explode at the thought.
“What happened next?”
“Next, next is that I’m supposed to gather people to settle this matter; it’s the middle of the night, that guy is truly what you call unreasonable!” he replied angrily.
“Don’t act impulsively; let Glanson handle this. I’ll withdraw some people from my private army to help you,” Burnley replied with a smile.
Lord Jinguo gratefully glanced at him, for the first time finding this round face not so displeasing. However, after thinking it over, he reminded him, “Actually, I came for another matter; I heard you recently brought a batch of armor into the city? You must be careful; although cultivating your own forces isn’t a big deal nowadays, be wary of leaving others with evidence.”
He couldn’t help but glance inside the house.
“It’s just a personal hobby,” the businessman responded with a smile.
