Chapter 542: Act 290 – The Meeting
Marquis Julian stood in the shadows, puzzled as he watched Brendel and Freya leave the inner courtyard. “Who is that woman?”
“It seems to be Her Highness the Princess’s guardian knight, my lord.”
“Does this mean the Fortress of Yan is looking to engage with the royal faction, or is this some sort of silent maneuver?” The marquis furrowed his brow, convinced that Brendel was the Earl of Yan, and this unexpected piece on the chessboard made him feel a sense of threat.
“Just a mere Fortress of Yan, not worth the Marquis’s concern.” At this moment, a rough voice came from behind. Marquis Julian turned around to see a bearded military officer standing there, whom he recognized as Earl Victorkin, the commander of the Black Blade Legion and a staunch loyalist of Duke Seifer.
“Marquis Julian.” Next to Earl Victorkin stood a young man with red lips and white teeth, who slightly bowed to the king’s brother. It was only then that Marquis Julian noticed the young man, whose aura was aggressively sharp like a young eagle poised to take flight.
Marquis Julian’s eyebrows twitched, as if he recognized the individual.
However, he had no intention of answering the commander of the Black Blade Legion’s question. The Fortress of Yan was naturally not a concern, but the presence of the High Priest Wood behind them was a different matter. Nonetheless, Marquis Julian sneered internally and decided not to disclose this information to the uncouth provincial. Instead, he feigned surprise and greeted, “Cecil? I thought you wouldn’t come. The hunting grounds of Gray Mountain are truly something I shall never forget—beautiful scenery, pleasant climate, much more exhilarating than His Majesty’s royal hunting grounds. Do you have time to welcome me for a visit?”
Earl Victorkin frowned slightly; Cecil was his real name, but among nobles, only enemies and close friends would address each other by their first names. Marquis Julian was clearly not a friend; enemies were even less likely, and he was well aware of the marquis’s ‘reputation’ outside. Yet, when the marquis mentioned the hunting grounds of Gray Mountain, he couldn’t help but pull at the corners of his mouth and change his expression.
That involved a privacy issue that had nearly shamed his family. The last time King Obergo VII visited Victorkin’s territory, this lecherous marquis had his sister. Of course, this was not supposed to be a big deal, but the problem was that the man’s fiancé was also present in the castle at the time. Naturally, he couldn’t let His Majesty be embarrassed, so he had to let his sister take the blame for it. That poor woman was still in the convent as a nun to this day, and just thinking about it made Earl Victorkin feel exasperated.
Fortunately, he knew that getting angry with Marquis Julian wouldn’t help—this was a guy who was spoiled and reckless—Earl Victorkin knew that the king’s brother was one to bear grudges, small-minded, and nobody wished to offend such a person. Not to mention the backing of significant figures behind him. “The Marquis is joking,” Earl Victorkin forced a smile, “How could I possibly compare to His Majesty’s hunting grounds… But that young man from just now, he should be the one you encountered a few days ago, right?”
Marquis Julian pretended to change his expression, secretly cursing the old man for being so well-informed. “Which one?” he feigned confusion.
“The Marquis need not hide it, that young man is a rare genius; it’s no disgrace to be defeated by him.” Earl Victorkin smiled while stroking his chin, not minding his beard scratching his hand, “However, youthful arrogance is not a good thing. There is a saying among elves: ‘The strongest beasts often become the prey of hunters.’”
Regarding Earl Victorkin’s veiled comfort, Marquis Julian appeared infuriated on the outside, yet internally scolded that this fellow had bad intentions. However, his eyes turned and suddenly spotted the young man beside Earl Victorkin, quickly pretending to be angry as he said, “What terrible luck! I thought he was just some country bumpkin who got lucky and caught the favor of the High Priest; I suppose in a decade or two, this guy will turn out to be among Erluin’s elite.”
As soon as he spoke, Earl Victorkin and the young man both changed their expressions. They knew precisely what was implied in that statement. The current commander of the Black Blade Legion—Earl Victorkin himself had once received the blessing of the previous High Priest, which was the reason for his current position. And he knew full well that his own abilities were far inferior to Brendel’s; thus, it was easy to imagine the future achievements of Brendel surpassing his own.
He furrowed his brow, pondering whether Marquis Julian was implying something. Unable to help himself, he glanced secretly at the marquis, only to find his face violet, looking as if he wasn’t intentionally provoking. Victorkin froze for a moment but then relaxed; he truly looked down on the king’s brother and wouldn’t suspect that he had such cunning.
At this point, the young man beside Victorkin smiled, “Indeed, based on personal strength, it’s hard to find someone more talented than him at this age in Erluin. However, noble politics has never been about individual strength, and the northern nobles likely won’t give up the benefits they’ve acquired because of a genius. Strong figures, like sword saints, can only display courage on the battlefield.”
“Is that so?” Marquis Julian replied with a look of disgust, “To say that no one in Erluin could compare to him may not be entirely true. I heard Duke Toniger has produced a talented individual who, at only twenty, has entered the Golden realm and has demonstrated extraordinary talent in military matters. What do you think of that, sir?”
The young man’s face flushed; comparing him to a mere outlaw was undoubtedly the biggest insult among nobles. Had it not been for Earl Victorkin’s prior warning that the marquis was often unrestrained in his words and the difference in their statuses was so vast, there would have already been a duel unfolding in this place before Seifer dealt with the royal faction.
Nevertheless, even so, the young man was left speechless in his anger. He couldn’t go after the king’s brother, but in his heart, he harbored resentment towards Brendel, and as for the ‘hero’ that Marquis Julian spoke of in Duke Toniger, the young man would never deign to compare himself to a bandit; in his eyes, they belonged to completely different worlds.
At that moment, Earl Victorkin finally noticed something was amiss, cursing inwardly, thinking how Marquis Julian was more of a hindrance than a help. However, knowing he had to stay composed, he quickly redirected the topic, “Alright, whatever happens with Toniger should be concerned about Rendener that scoundrel and is of no relevance to us.”
“Of course.” Marquis Julian shrugged, “I was merely mentioning it in passing.”
Earl Victorkin could no longer tolerate the marquis’s nonchalant demeanor, gritting his teeth angrily, “Enough, Marquis, you know I came here on behalf of that significant figure. To get to the point—your prepared scapegoat dissatisfied that significant figure greatly; anyone with eyes can see the flaws. Overwell and Makarolo are both sharp guys; aren’t you worried they’ll see through it and become suspicious?”
“What good is suspicion?” Marquis Julian smiled, “Originally, I wasn’t in favor of such actions. I don’t believe my dear niece can stir up anything significant; why not just let her step down in favor of someone else?”
“She hasn’t been crowned yet; how can she step down? Moreover, that would also be Haruz’s business.” Earl Victorkin cursed under his breath at the utter insensitivity of this man, but still quietly reminded him, “Do you really want the people to think that our Erluin nobility retreated under pressure from the Crusian?”
“And so what? Isn’t that the truth?” Marquis Julian smirked slightly, “Do you think I care about that little reputation? In fact, I just happen to want to drag you all down with me; since you all want the throne, naturally, you need to pay some price!”
Earl Victorkin nearly choked with anger, “You’ve gone mad.”
“What did you say?” Marquis Julian’s expression turned cold.
Victorkin suddenly remembered who he was dealing with—quickly trembling, he responded, “Nothing, just… this is too crazy. If the people are left with the impression that the Temple of Fire and the Crusian can sway the opinions of Erluin’s nobility, it surely will be detrimental to the Siphai family’s rule; at that point, Erluin will truly exist in name only. At least consider your nephew’s future and take it seriously.”
“And what does that have to do with me?” Marquis Julian sneered, “You all want to reap the benefits but don’t wish to pay a price; you want me and Anlek to bear the blame? is not that easy to take. Truthfully, even though this morning’s plan was unexpected, I believe that old fellow Anlek isn’t surprised at all. Just eight Golden ranks, did you really think you could keep Livwz and Her Highness the Princess? You’re severely underestimating the strength of our royal family; the two paths before you are either to force my niece to step down through the hands of the Crusian or return to the North to prepare for war.”
“I suppose that old fellow Anlek is just waiting for you to choose the second path.” Marquis Julian replied with a smile, as if all this had nothing to do with him.
Earl Victorkin’s face changed colors, his anger flaring, unable to ignore how he was being compared to . A cold sweat drenched his back. After a moment, he looked up, taking a deep look at Marquis Julian, “So this is your intention; is this the message you want to convey to that significant figure? I understand.”
Marquis Julian shrugged, “Do you think I’m afraid of the Crusian like a mouse is of a cat?”
“Indeed, you’re the Marquis, unafraid of anything.” Earl Victorkin disdainfully threw out a last comment before leaving the inner courtyard in a disheveled manner. However, the moment he turned, Marquis Julian’s smile turned cold; he rubbed his long fingers, with murderous intent glaring clear in his eyes.
“Marquis, do you know that young man?” At this moment, a servant at his side quietly asked.
“That should be Victorkin’s appointed heir; I happen to know him. He has fought brilliantly against the Toquinin Lionmen several times, quite impressively. He is also a genius; if no accidents occur, the next commander of the Black Blade Legion will likely fall on him. Truly a lucky boy,” the marquis smiled. “If nothing happens, that is.”
…
The red tea in the white porcelain cup had completely cooled, solidifying into a color like agate. In the magnificently decorated study, there were only a few people present. Soft light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the carpet, with distant mountains in the view; the light divided the people inside into two sides: Brendel and Freya on one side, and on the other, the quietly composed Princess, standing beside her were Nemeses, Livwz, Makarolo, and Overwell, along with a middle-aged noble of some name that Brendel could not recall, who was slightly bald.
The future little king of Erluin, a boy named Haruz, stood beside this middle-aged noble.
For the first time since coming to this world, Brendel had time to take a careful look at the princess. As the mysterious aura faded away, this half-elf maiden’s captivating beauty became clearer. Fortunately, he had seen dozens of beauties, so he had built some resistance. In comparing memories, he suddenly realized that in his previous life, this princess had left hardly any impression aside from her strength, resilience, and that brilliant sense of faith. Rather, she felt like a beautiful symbol.
This one before him, however, was clearly much more real and approachable.
If Brendel were to give an evaluation, it would simply be that she was a beautiful half-elf maiden, with silver curls sparkling in the afternoon sun, her slender shoulders appearing wrapped in a gentle halo. But there was a hint of concealed distress between her brows, as this girl, who should be in the bloom of youth, evidently bore too much weight.
At least Brendel, possessing half a modern soul, couldn’t comprehend how a girl her age could perceive the dirtiest, darkest side of political struggle and willingly immerse herself in it. He had seen some analytical threads on forums regarding this princess’s memoirs, where she regarded herself as a commodity, embracing the high and lofty glory of being the Princess of Erluin—something that was seen as honor by others, but was merely a burden to her.
He had never come into close contact with her in his previous life; his former classmate had said she was a silly child—Brendel couldn’t help but curiously gaze at this shrewd maiden, wondering if she truly was foolish.
In reality, Brendel had always kept his distance from such people.
But here, he felt a strange attraction, as if he were drawn to a flame. Happily, after going through so many experiences, Brendel had matured beyond his former self; he silently watched this princess for a moment before returning his gaze; in essence—Brendel did not believe that the choices made by the royal faction, including the current princess, were correct.
But indeed, at the moment, there was no one more suitable for this position than her in Erluin. As a lazy person, Brendel thought that as long as he could help Erluin overcome this crisis and not repeat the mistakes of history, this nation should manage to last another one or two hundred years, right?
As for further ahead, he had never considered it. There had never been such a thing as an eternal dynasty; he merely wished to make up for regrets, and in truth, he was more interested in exploring the world beyond the wilds.
“First, thank you for your rescue at the venue, Mister Brendel,” the silence in the study was broken by the princess, who personally thanked him—her voice gentle and pleasant, “However, I truly cannot say this thank you. The royal faction has never met you, yet you provide us with so much assistance. Each time, I haven’t had the chance to express my gratitude to you. It’s rather rude to say this…”
“Your Highness the Princess.” Brendel habitually started to speak.
However, as soon as he spoke, he noticed Grifian’s gaze brighten, and others also changed their expressions. Brendel was slightly taken aback, only to remember that he had made a mistake—‘Your Highness the Princess’ was a title only held after King Obergo VII’s sister, Grifian, assumed the regent title after Haruz’s coronation. His slip of the tongue was rather grievous.
Fortunately, the royal faction didn’t find anything wrong; in their view, Brendel’s remark was recognition of Haruz’s position, which was a declaration of allegiance. Politically, the most taboo action is unclear allegiance; by stating his stance from the outset, Brendel had instead earned the goodwill of everyone, including Livwz and Makarolo, even the old court mage, who had always held a grudge against Brendel, couldn’t help but nod in approval.
This young man was clever and composed; he could come up with such a method to pledge allegiance. Everyone thought as much.
Brendel naturally didn’t know that his single slip of the tongue had caused so much misunderstanding. He forced a smile and continued, “What happened at Toniger was actually me utilizing Your Highness the Princess; there is truly no need for Your Highness to apologize.”
“Is that so?” Grifian’s mood brightened, and she smiled slightly, “But speaking of which, we’ve yet to truly be introduced, Mister Brendel. Outside, it’s said that you are a Highland Knight; may I ask if this is true?”
Brendel nodded.
…
(PS: There were a few errors in yesterday’s chapter due to a momentary lapse; first, I mistakenly upgraded the Thorns Crown and the Blood of the Sun to level 10, which should have stopped at level 5, and I accidentally included the Conflict Aura, which had been upgraded to level 10 in Chapter 274. Also, the unlock level for intermediate skills is level 30, not 25, which has been corrected now.
The second mistake was, I mistakenly wrote that Joson nearly died at the hands of the necromancer instead of him dying at the hands of the necromancer. I nearly dreamt that Joson, covered in blood, came to find me, complaining about how tragic his death was… Almost made me kneel before Lord Joson.
Furthermore, regarding killing for experience, there’s a premise. Those individuals were disguised as cultists; in fact, you can tell from the previous chapters that those who worship chaos, like the Blackfire cultists, are viewed as monsters and do provide experience.
In summary, let’s pretend they aren’t human. Abandoning a proper order to embrace the Duskgazer Dragon is such self-inflicted punishment; they must be monsters.
As for compensation for my mistakes yesterday… Well, how about I roll around and sell some cuteness?) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please go to Qidian (qidian.com) to support it with recommendation votes or monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)
