Chapter 590: Act 335 – The Battle of Saintly White XIX
The epic of the Crusian creation, “The Azure Poem,” mentions that the four great elf kings and their elemental subordinates are the guardians of this world. However, this agreement is limited only to them and Martha. The elements themselves are violent and enraged, and humans rarely coexist peacefully with them—just like now.
After the lightning cage proved ineffective, ‘The Enraged’ Adgar directly advanced to the third stage, startling Brendel. Losing interest in merely watching, he immediately turned around and shouted, “Your Highness, please order everyone to retreat to the southern foothills of Mount Anlek at once!”
Everyone was still confused, but suddenly there was a dull roar from the ground, as if buildings were collapsing. They looked up to see countless furious whirlwind elements surging out from the crack where Adgar was, while purple-black thunderclouds above began to unleash sheets of lightning storms.
That scene resembled the depiction of ‘The Last Judgment’ from the Black Prophecy, “The world is a scene of apocalypse, lightning and fire descend from the clouds, and the dusk knight rides amidst the fiery rain, burning everything.” Everyone’s faces turned pale, and the mercenaries under Earl Ouding were so frightened that their legs went weak. The princess’s face also lost its color, but she composed herself and immediately ordered, “Earl Ouding, the officer pupils from the Royal Knight Academy, please retreat towards Mount Anlek. Mister Brendel, you lead our Naga allies to withdraw as well.”
Brendel looked back at the catastrophic scene. Among those present, only he seemed unafraid; instead, he felt a strange sense of familiarity regarding this moment. The adventurous spirit that burned in his blood made him turn and add, “And remember not to leave the confines of this valley!”
Princess Grifian glanced at him and nodded seriously.
In truth, there was no need for an order; the Southern army’s dragon knights in the sky had already begun their retreat. Once everyone had entered the forest, the last to leave was the gray-finned Naga. The sea demon Brigitte glanced at Brendel with her lovely bright yellow eyes as she passed by and said in a rustling voice, “You are not an excellent commander, but you are an excellent prophet.”
Brendel’s heart skipped slightly, and he looked at her in confusion.
“You needn’t be surprised; the water tells me everything.” The sea demon Brigitte gave him a bow, then slid into the forest with her ceremonial long blade, her long tail resembling a snake.
“What did she say to you?” Saneer also followed up, unable to hide his curiosity. The sea demon Brigitte held a high position among the gray-finned Naga, and he had never seen her treat a male creature with such favor—regardless of whether they were Naga or human.
“She said I’m a charlatan. Do I look like one?” Brendel turned back, offering a slight smile.
Saneer pondered for a moment and replied seriously, “I suppose you look a bit like one.”
Indeed, it was quite fitting. Once Princess Grifian waited for everyone to ascend the mountain before she lingered behind, she waited for Brendel to come up last. She gazed carefully at this man with her silver eyes and asked, “Mister Brendel, did you already know that a monster is sealed within the ruins of this shrine beneath the Malgo Plateau?”
This was the question in everyone’s hearts, as it could explain why he had insisted on facing the Northern Coalition here. Moreover, he was also the one who ordered the creation of the disintegration crystals; the fact he had commanded a troop of lizardmen to transport a large number of crystals underground could not be hidden from others.
By the way, the passage leading underground was also discovered by Brendel.
Too many coincidences are no longer coincidences.
Brendel knew he could not conceal the truth, so he nodded. “Yes,” a horse-sized black wolf passed by him, affectionately nudging his shoulder with its head, and Brendel absentmindedly patted its furry forehead. A pack of wolves was moving past the two; Princess Grifian had only heard of such bizarre sights in legends, and while experiencing it firsthand, she could not help but hold her breath gently.
“Above the Anlek Plateau used to be the sacred ground of the Silver Elves, and it conceals many secrets. This shrine is just one of them, with another being near Fao, which is much larger than this one. The ancient wars buried much history underground, but these histories are still documented in the ancient literatures of the wizards.” Brendel replied.
Princess Grifian fell silent for a time. She already knew that Brendel possessed many secrets unknown to ordinary people. Yet no one knew how he had mastered this knowledge, as if he were born knowing and all-knowing.
She pondered for a moment, then asked, “Mister Brendel… no, descendant of the Sword Saint. You said you know nothing of your grandfather’s deeds, and your experiences seem like a legend to us; you have overcome dangers and hardships beyond ordinary imagination to come this far. We all know your future is limitless. If you want it, status and power, even… women are within your reach, but why do you choose to help me?”
She had one unspoken subtext: reflecting on today, it was easy to see that every action Brendel had taken since leaving Ridenburg was preparing for this moment. He did not hide his feelings for her—the princess of Erluin—and offered unconditional assistance at the most trying times for the Corvado royal family.
If Brendel’s actions were in accordance with the will of the Sword Saint Darus, she might understand better. But that was not the case; Brendel’s legend was an epic of his own. He didn’t even know that his grandfather was the famed Sword Saint of Erluin’s history.
Princess Grifian never believed that there could be love without reason in this world, just as there could not be hatred without cause.
So, she did ask this question. Brendel scratched his head. He had thought of this question, and it was indeed difficult for him to answer. He could not say that the love and hate of his past life were inherited by this current soul, making them unforgettable, could he?
“Uh… perhaps it’s because some people are born deserving of help. Besides, Your Highness is so beautiful; isn’t that worth helping?”
“Is Mister Brendel planning to use this answer to dodge everyone? I think even your subordinates would need a reason,” Princess Grifian asked calmly.
This truly hit a sore spot for Brendel. He turned back to notice that Carglis and Antinna were quietly watching the situation here. Indeed, his past actions had allowed those gathered around him not to question his motives. Because they believed he could lead them to create miracles.
But saving an aging kingdom required more than just miracles; one day, they would need a common goal to strive for.
“…Actually, I don’t understand either, Your Highness. But I believe the kingdom has had moments of revival, though fleeting. One or two strong individuals ultimately cannot change history. Perhaps what the kingdom needs is not just powerful strength but the purpose that such strength serves.”
“Is it aimed at eliminating all of the kingdom’s errors, or merely maintaining its decaying rule? Don’t you already have the answers in your heart, Your Highness? Your answer is my answer,” Brendel replied slowly.
He closed his eyes; others believed he spoke about the kingdom’s second revival, but what Brendel meant was actually the final resurgence of Erluin. That was the last grand performance of this kingdom, yet it fell with a regretful curtain.
Princess Grifian stared blankly at Brendel, her fists clenched. She had already thought of this answer in her heart. But she closed her eyes, struggling not to shed tears from her excitement.
She had to maintain the reign of this kingdom.
Not because the Corvado royal family must last for eternity.
But to inherit the ideals of the late king and herself, to recreate the most glorious era in Erluin’s history. Yet her glory did not belong to the nobility but to the entire kingdom, to all people. Even if the Corvado royal family no longer maintained its reign, she would ensure that the glory of Saintly White did not fade.
From that moment on, Erluin would shine as a nation in the history of Vaunte, not merely as the vassal or stage of the nobility. Just as the late lord Eke had vowed on this land—the Lionheart Sword attested not to the eternal continuity of dominion over this land but that glory belonged to the people of Erluin.
Only until that moment would this ancient kingdom grow strong from within, radiating with new life and vitality.
Brendel silently looked at this fragile girl—historically, she had never had companions. Even apart from a few players, no one knew the true ideals of this princess; neither did the supporting nobles understand what her insistence was.
In order to gain the support of the lords, to gain the support of Duke Anlek, she had to compromise time and again. Some players even slandered her as a political harlot—but she had to retain the rule of the nobility to secure the most basic requirement for fulfilling that ultimate goal.
Yet historical developments do not always unfold as anticipated, and that was this princess’s tragedy.
She had to walk further away from her ideals time and again, and although she tried her best to make amends, she ultimately found it hard to retrieve what was lost. When she finally resolved to let go of the past and move forward, those emerging nobles she had once promoted and the faction supporting her immediately abandoned her.
But perhaps, from the very start, she should have stepped beyond this decayed mindset to win the support of those who truly should help her. Yet she was, after all, a princess raised in the royal family, deeply afraid of the entrenched power of the nobility.
Yet finally, there was someone standing behind her.
Brendel thought silently, perhaps this was a change. It would make her realize that she could rely on not just the nobles of the kingdom; this ancient kingdom had many people hoping for change, such as Freya, Antinna, and even the descendants of nobles like Carglis; they just could not articulate it, nor see through the mists of history.
Yet he could see everything about the future at a glance. He didn’t even need to guess; history and the future were right beside him, within reach. Brendel understood what was right and what was wrong.
The northern nobles were enraptured by the power of the past. All their efforts sought merely to extend their current circumstances. But there were those determined to abolish the old flaws, understanding that this ancient kingdom must gain rebirth from its ruins.
He turned back and saw Carglis lying on a makeshift stretcher nearby, winking at him. Antinna was smiling and nodding at him, looking as if she had sighed in relief.
Princess Grifian also took a deep breath.
Her gaze involuntarily crossed over Brendel’s shoulder, her silver eyes reflecting the scene of Adgar rampaging within the Northern Coalition in the valley below, and she gently sighed.
“Thank you, Mister Brendel.”
“Although the people of Erluin are still inevitably killing each other, after losing half of the Black Blade Corps, the northern nobles will reconsider their stances. If the Temple of Fire does not wish Erluin to fall into a prolonged civil war, they might just compromise with us.”
“The kingdom must go through the pains of rebirth, but it is certainly better than a slow bleed. The battle of Ampere Seale could achieve all objectives in a single stroke. Mister Brendel changed the future of Erluin single-handedly, saving more Erluin people from the flames of war. I thank you on behalf of this ancient kingdom.”
Her words were truly heartfelt. The crisis at Ampere Seale seemed perilous, but it also contained opportunities. The royal faction, the northern nobles, and even herself were all searching for a key to break the deadlock, but the northern nobles acted first, and the Temple of Fire’s involvement caught her and the royal faction by surprise, staring at a situation that seemed irreversibly set.
But at this moment, Brendel changed the entire situation with his own power.
She had seen many people, yet this young man appeared like an anomaly. He possessed power and strength, yet there was none of the usual cunning and guile associated with the kingdom’s nobility in him. Even she herself had inevitably carried that stigma—thus she could remain calm while viewing herself or others as mere political pawns.
But Brendel had none of that. In her brief encounters with him, she could understand this. She could not comprehend that kind of freedom, that unrestrained yet resolute demeanor; such a trait might seem laughably immature in the eyes of the nobility, but perhaps only such people could change history.
Princess Grifian appeared much more at ease.
But Brendel shook his head, needing to dampen her subtly improved mood: “Your Highness, I’m afraid it’s not that simple. You underestimate the Temple of Fire.”
He was not being alarmist; he had witnessed those fellows’ greed and arrogance firsthand. The Erluins had lost their honor; were not the descendants of the Lord of Fire the same? Only that the Crusian Empire possessed ample resources while Erluin was shaky in the storm.
Princess Grifian frowned slightly. “Mister Brendel, are you saying that the Temple of Fire would tear apart their sacred covenant and interfere in Erluin’s civil war? That… it cannot be!”
Indeed, this was something that had not happened in a thousand years.
But today is different from the past.
Brendel knew that the arrival of the great demon tide was imminent. Many prophecies contained bits of clues about this considerable upheaval. The Temple of Fire had a long tradition and would not be unprepared for this; in fact, the impending holy war was just one link in the chain reaction brought about by this upheaval.
The Temple’s heightened regard for this holy war stemmed from this very reason. They absolutely would not compromise with the vassal states at this time, especially not when the remnants of the Flame Blade were still on him.
Though the Flame Blade wasn’t a necessity, of course it would be enticing to obtain a divine artifact, but there wasn’t just one artifact in this world, and it wasn’t worth risking his life for.
But now he no longer had the choice.
Because Otales had already informed him that that thing had been bound to him. To put it simply, unless he was eliminated, the Flame Blade belonged to him.
It sounded delightful, yet was fraught with peril.
Brendel looked at the princess and nodded. Princess Grifian did not realize that history was at its critical turning point; it was understandable if she judged incorrectly, especially since Erluin’s countries had lived under the Temple’s rule for centuries. Anyone would not dare to underestimate the sanctity of the Temple.
Princess Grifian fell silent for a moment, unsure how she would resist if the Temple interfered. Although there was still the Wind Temple—yet as long as the Wind Spirit of Saint Ausoor remained neutral as long as the Crusian side didn’t attempt to swallow Erluin, she would definitely not intervene.
She clenched her lips tightly, subconsciously biting her lower lip until a trace of blood appeared.
But Brendel raised his head.
The sky was overcast, and below in the valley, Adgar was locked in a fierce fight with the Northern Coalition. Yet at this moment, Brendel sensed an unusual aura from above.
It was as if a stone had been cast into a calm lake, causing ripples across the entire battlefield.
“Brendel, that’s the reaction of a teleportation portal,” Otales’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
“I know.” Brendel nodded.
He was far too familiar with it. In the future, the battlefield of Vaunte would see cluster teleportation being one of the commonly employed tactics; massive teleportation portals opening would often provide the most stunning sights on the battlefield.
But this time, the teleportation above caused Brendel’s heart to race.
It was… the Door of Flames.
…
Above the outer sea of Ampere Seale, the world between heaven and earth had transformed into a realm of water.
A silent fleet quietly anchored in the offshore of Saintly White Bay. The flagship of the Erluin Royal Navy’s First Division, the “Victory,” saw the royal naval officers standing in a row, heads held high in the pouring rain as if awaiting inspection.
A distant, clear cry penetrated the rain curtain, revealing an Erluin Wyvern. It swiftly approached the fleet and landed on the deck of the “Victory.”
The dragon flapped its wings twice, and a person leapt down from its back.
“Captain!” the officers immediately shouted in unison.
“Good,” Earl Yanilasu, Commander of Erluin’s First Fleet, replied solemnly after glancing at his subordinates, “Bring my coat.”
“Captain?”
“Amper Seale is now in a state of war; the princess has ordered the First Fleet to prepare for departure.”
Excited cheers erupted on deck.
Earl Yanilasu raised his head, and the ship was already bustling with activity as the magical power core began to charge and rotate. A few silver-robed mages also came to the highest magical helm of the “Victory,” ready for their duties.
“Position, Lord Earl,” the first helmsman of the “Victory,” Chief Mage ‘Silver Flame’ David, calm after confirming that all apprentice protocols were in order, asked.
Earl Yanilasu turned his gaze to the vast curtain of rain.
“Anchor point coordinates: 128, 22; all ships ready, condition level one. Activate the Saintly White Bay secret anchorage, code name—The Battle of Saintly White, at my command, prepare to jump.”
…
(PS: Started off a bit stuck on what to write, but forced myself into it and it flowed, hence it’s slightly late today. Apologies for that, heh, also asking for your votes.
By the way, I sketched an image of Romaine for fun when I had some spare time; I’ll see how to share it on Qidian. You all can check it out…) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, feel free to support it with recommendation votes or monthly tickets on Qidian (qidian.com), your support is my greatest motivation.)
