Chapter 577: Act 324 – The Battle of Saintly White VIII
Outside the southern gate of Ampere Seale Harbor, a gentle slope stretched along the foothills of Mount Machenko, where rolling black mixed forests reflected in Brendel’s eyes. The young men from the Royal Knight Academy couldn’t help but cheer in unison; although the crisis was far from over, the prospect of being one step closer to freedom uplifted everyone’s spirits.
“Finally out,” Brendel sighed in relief. Hiding in the mountains and forests was much easier than urban warfare. Especially considering that Ampere Seale was one of the most severely infiltrated areas controlled by the Temple of Fire. Fighting in someone else’s territory always felt oppressive.
The arrival of Earl Ouding surprised him considerably. Upon inquiry, he learned that the earl had already met Overwell and had set a plan. If Princess Gryphine’s group had chosen to go north, he would lead his troops to the northern port near Flada-Pes to provide support; but since they chose to go south as they did, the troops previously hidden here became a clever dark chess piece.
Ouding also brought a Druid master named Wozik. Brendel recognized him; this great Druid was a herb master who lived in seclusion on Mount Machenko near Ampere Seale and specialized in teaching players master-level herbalism recipes. However, Brendel wasn’t interested in herbalism; what intrigued him was the information itself. This great Druid was not a friend of Ouding’s; he had been summoned out of the mountains by a letter from Master Anderson of the Loop of Trade Winds. Furthermore, Druids maintained neutrality in the Amber Sword and rarely interfered in external affairs, just like how the great elder had only agreed to participate in Valhalla’s defense.
Now, with Anderson actively sending letters to interfere in Erluin’s internal strife, it was unclear whether it was his personal desire or that of the great elder. However, the latter was quite possible, indicating that the World Circle may have become aware of his existence and possibly acknowledged his actions to some extent.
This was a tremendous piece of good news. Brendel was different from the average person; most people thought that Druids clustered in dispersed forests along the border, communicating through the Loop of Trade Winds, powerful yet marginal— as long as you didn’t provoke them. But Brendel knew clearly about the existence of the World Circle and the Druid Council; receiving their endorsement would make many matters much easier in the future.
But the future was the future; there were still enormous challenges to be addressed at present. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Brendel didn’t dare delay any longer and immediately ordered the Royal Knight Academy’s young people to disperse into the Flada Forest. He looked up, and the Southern army’s flying Dragoons were forming into retreat formations off into the sky over Ampere Seale, while the Black Blade army was gradually gaining the upper hand. The circling Dragoons had clearly detected their presence, with some disengaging from the battlefield and diving in their direction.
The pressure from attacks coming from above was intense, and Ouding’s private soldiers quickly fell into a state of panic; archers raised their longbows, but Brendel doubted they had judged the distance correctly. The best tactic to deal with flying units in the Amber Sword was to wait until they entered the diving attack phase before retaliating; otherwise, it was simply a waste of effort.
“Have them stop attacking!” Brendel shouted to Earl Ouding. “Get them into the forest.”
Earl Ouding understood that his soldiers lacked experience and feared they would fall apart at the charge of the Dragoons. He nodded and promptly drove his men closer to the Flada Forest.
Carlo, along with Brensen and Mikko, led the way. Noticing the situation behind them, the leader among the trio, Erluin’s three gems, tightened the reins and called out, “Mister Brendel, the Royal Knight Academy also has archery training! Have Earl Ouding hand over the bows to us; we can stay back to cover the retreat!”
“No need, just protect Her Highness the Princess,” Brendel replied, looking up at the Dragoons overhead. Without hesitation, he directly commanded the Wind Spirit Spiders hiding in midair to focus their attacks on that direction—previously, he had activated the Sacred Sword to ‘finish off’ the knights under Baron Rodu in the battlefield at Ampere Seale and had only expended a few of the thirty or so Sacred Swords, with more than half remaining unfired, now perfectly suitable for use.
Everyone watched as Brendel stood with his hands behind his back; suddenly, a brilliant net of death intertwined in midair. Two or three Dragoons were completely taken by surprise, slamming into it and igniting into ashes in the sky. The remaining Dragoons were clearly frightened and quickly climbed higher, but even so, two were struck down from above by beams of golden-red light, severing their wings and tails, causing them to plummet to the ground.
Brendel commanded the Wind Spirit Spiders to further elevate their firing arc, activating twenty or thirty more Sacred Swords. This time, after correcting the previous attack with anticipation, they were even more precise, almost resembling a golden-red longsword that pierced straight into the formation of the Dragoons. Six or seven Dragoons could hardly react before turning into a cloud of ashes.
Now the Black Blade army’s Dragoons were utterly demoralized; they dared not approach any closer, and more than ten Dragoons made a circle in the air and turned to flee. However, Brendel had no intention of letting them go, ordering the Wind Spirit Spiders to pursue them relentlessly until they were only three or four soldiers remaining, far enough away from their attack radius.
What foolish clowns, Brendel couldn’t help but shake his head. To be honest, even without the ‘Sacred Sword,’ he wouldn’t be afraid of these pests. The Dragoons in Erluin had always been considered light air cavalry in Vaunde’s air force; light air forces typically served as reconnaissance units, and even the reconnaissance Dragoons had many limitations. Their ground attack capabilities were also highly concerning, and they lacked the ability to fly within the forest canopy, making them arguably one of the weakest air forces in Vaunde, second only to goblins’ ‘inferior monsters.’
He wondered where the enemy found the courage to launch an attack. Did they genuinely think the ones below were only noble private soldiers, not considering who had just defeated the White Lion army?
He turned around to see that the private soldiers and officer trainees entering the Flada Forest were silent, still in shock from the spectacle they had just witnessed. Young and brave, the Wizard had challenged the ‘Demon King’s’ army single-handedly; such scenes were only found in bedtime stories. Erluin’s soldiers, naturally lacking exposure, erupted into cheers.
“Mister Brendel, isn’t he the descendant of Lord Darus? How can he use magic?” Princess Gryphine couldn’t help but ask in confusion.
“I’ve seen him wield magic before,” Sir Wolf shrugged. “And he seems to know alchemy as well; quite a talented individual. However, we lack insight into his first twenty years. Lord Darus went into hiding, living like a commoner. The royal family wouldn’t investigate a commoner, nor would they have the means.”
Everyone’s gaze shifted to the young Wizard beside them; Charles quickly shook his head. “Ah, don’t look at me; I only got to know the Lord later than Miss Freya. But the Lord did mention he learned from a Wizard, so it’s not that surprising…”
Everyone nodded in understanding. However, they didn’t notice that Nemeses beside them had slightly furrowed her brows, casting a skeptical glance at Charles.
Although the Dragoon’s attack had been repelled, it confirmed Brendel’s previous concerns. He had instructed everyone to scatter into the forest, initially considering this tactic; the Dragoons’ low-altitude capabilities were very poor and hard for the naked eye to spot units hidden in the forest. While not completely evading them, it was certainly better than being grouped together and harassed, rendering them unable to advance.
Indeed, once the young men from the Royal Knight Academy and Earl Ouding’s private soldiers scattered into the forest, the circling Dragoons above lost their targets. They attempted to come in closer to scout, only to be met with Brendel’s counterattack using the Sacred Sword, forcing them to follow from a distance to avoid losing track of the Princess’s group.
They pursued for three or four hours. After Brendel repelled another low-altitude assault from the Dragoons—he stood beside a black pine, observing for a moment through the overlapping canopies, confirming that the enemies had exited his attack range before turning back. Almost everyone’s gaze fell on him—Princess Gryphine was fine, quietly sitting on a piece of blue stone with her knees hugged, somewhat distracted—while the other young people looked at him with admiration. After the earlier command and the encounter with the Dragoons, he had completely established his authority, even in the eyes of the noble private soldiers.
However, Brendel was keenly aware that gaining the recognition of the proud young men from the Royal Knight Academy was likely due to his identity as a descendant of the Sword Saint Darus. To be honest, he didn’t quite want that identity; it wasn’t that he was a masochist yearning to be a commoner, but because he already understood that the Sword Saint Darus might have undergone the Temple’s trial for certain reasons back then.
Brendel also knew about the Temple’s trial; a regular person entering it would be lucky to survive, while his grandfather emerged unscathed, likely due to some agreement with the Temple. They may have done this to cover up the secrets of that year; of course, this didn’t matter much to Brendel. The important thing was that now, as a descendant of the Sword Saint Darus, he stepped into the spotlight, and once the Temple learned of the truth, they might come seeking trouble with him.
Thinking of this made his head ache. He had finally gained a prestigious identity that could spare him from deception and trickery, yet before he could relish the benefits, he had to face a heap of troubles first. Not to mention the inherited legacy of the dark dragon; that even more absurd aspect—this world was not populated solely by those with the far-sightedness of Otales after centuries; he could easily become a rat in the street, scorned by everyone.
But now was not the time to dwell on these matters. Brendel looked up, shook his head, and sighed, “The enemy is quite shrewd.”
“What do you mean?” Enroch, the future gem of Erluin with the best ending among the three, immediately replied cheerfully. “I see the adults can handle them without breaking a sweat; the renowned Dragoons of the Black Blade Army can do nothing against us. Once we enter the Southlands, we can soar freely—”
Brendel looked at him like he was an idiot, internally questioning if this guy was genuinely one of the three gems; could he have made a mistake? Was it true that heaven has a grudge against talents, letting fools live longer?
Before he could finish his thoughts, Enroch received a sharp hit on the head from Locka, the leader among the three. He quietly replied, “That’s why I told you to pay attention in class; the adults mentioned that the Dragoons have ulterior motives. Don’t forget that the Black Blade Army is still pursuing us from behind.”
“Oh, I understand now!” Enroch quickly responded. “These guys want to stall us; they’re pretty cunning, even willing to send elite troops to their deaths.”
“Not just elite troops can stall us.” Mikko confidently huffed. However, once he met Brendel’s smiling gaze, he couldn’t help but blush and look away.
This detail didn’t escape Enroch’s observation, and he burst into laughter: “Well said, Mr. Servant; we admire your insight.”
The white-haired Mikko, who lost a bet against Brendel and became a servant, was left speechless.
Brendel looked at the troublemaker Enroch and couldn’t help but shake his head; this guy couldn’t possibly be Carglis’s long-lost brother, could he?
“So, what do we do?” Among the group, Freya seemed the most serious. She glanced at the map spread on the ground and furrowed her brow, asking, “Brendel, you have a plan, right?”
A plan, he had.
They certainly could not continue to escape indefinitely; the key was to choose a suitable battlefield. The Black Blade Army, as what once was the imperial guard, despite being weakened, still had nearly fifty thousand troops during Brendel’s era. In this era, the Black Blade Army would be even stronger than local forces like the Southern Army. The Southern Army had a standard size of seventy thousand, so the Black Blade Army might even reach one hundred thousand.
Therefore, gathering several tens of thousands to appear on the Ampere Seale battlefield shouldn’t pose too much of an issue; combined with the remnants of the White Lion Army and various local forces, the enemy’s military strength was truly astonishing.
In contrast, he had a maximum combined force of about four thousand troops when including Ouding’s forces and the remaining Dragoons from the Danos Southern Army. The disparity in strength was humorously stark. Therefore, he needed to select a specific battlefield—one that favored defense and where the enemy could not deploy effectively.
Fortunately, this was the Machenko Mountain range, and they were about to enter the vicinity of Fama Mountain. Both mountains were branches of the Anlek Mountain Range to the north. In the game, this area was approximately a level 25-30 zone. Brendel was somewhat familiar with this area and quickly recalled a specific place.
Just as he was about to speak, he felt something in his pocket grow warm. He hastily pulled out the item, revealing a black pearl.
Brendel’s eyebrows suddenly raised; he had a visitor. This was indeed an unexpected surprise.
