Chapter 617: Act 360 – Requiem X
“Our goal is simple; there are three teleportation gates, and as long as we leave even one, the mission will fail.”
“The task of analyzing the teleportation gate will be assigned to Miss Antinna, and everyone else, including myself, will serve as her cover to approach the gate and protect her until she completes her task.”
“Do you have any questions?”
Brendel looked at everyone; soon they would face thousands of demons, and apart from him, no one expected success. Most of the attendees saw this operation as a noble venture—on one hand, there were fewer than forty people, while on the other, there was an uncountable army of demons. Apart from a miracle, they simply couldn’t imagine the possibility of victory.
Some of Lantonrand’s knights appeared anxious, some furrowed their brows, while others seemed to joke carelessly. Mage Gherlok, usually silent, was demonstrating a spell model to Charles, and Siphai’s swordmaster Nicolas was repeatedly polishing his longsword. The princess sat alone, staring blankly at the black figure of Ampere Seale amidst the rain, lost in thought. These actions seemed meaningless but betrayed a hint of unease.
When the final moment approached so closely, who could remain unfazed in the face of death?
Yet despite this, everyone silently nodded. They did not know that the young man’s heart held a hint of hope; they assumed it was a knightly dedication and conviction—knowing well the possibility of failure yet still challenging it. Such determination seemed somewhat naive to most nobles of this era, but it was equally admirable because no one could desecrate the pursuit of ideals and honor itself.
Therefore, everyone admired Brendel.
Brendel could grasp the meaning behind this, but he did not intend to clarify this misunderstanding. “Alright, we have already wasted too much time; we only have five minutes to prepare. Then we’ll depart immediately. Please, make the most of this time, or leave a will— you and I both understand that for this journey, death is almost certain.”
Everyone fell silent.
Only Charles chuckled, “What a pity; it should have been an opportunity for future generations to erect a monument in our honor, recording the heroic deeds that transpired here today, inscribed with ‘The Great Lord Toniger and His Retinue,’ but it seems there will be no such chance now. Whether anyone will remember us in the future remains a question.”
The young wizard vividly described.
“Why wouldn’t they remember?” Dierphir asked curiously beside him.
“Quite simply, because some upright temple will surely cover up the truth, but can we stand up to refute it?” Charles replied with a smirk.
This joke struck a chord, particularly given everyone’s somewhat malicious speculations about the Crusian. Was everything not a masterpiece of the Crusians and the Temple of Fire? Although everyone was united to confront demons now, there was still a hint of displeasure in their hearts, especially among Lantonrand’s knights, who burst into boisterous laughter.
Brendel couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed Charles held a strong opinion about the Temple of Fire, but one couldn’t deny that what he said was likely to be the inevitable truth if they indeed perished here.
In fact, even the only knight from the Temple of Fire present remained indifferent to Charles’ remarks, shaking his head with a smile. As a high-ranking member within the Temple, he certainly knew how the institution operated, but to him, it was not unacceptable—he was loyal to his faith, not the institution’s methods.
Brendel stepped away from the crowd, walked to the edge of the woods, and glanced at the gentle sloping area to the north, letting out a sigh. Some things are easy to say but difficult to execute; the hilly terrain north of Ampere Seale, leading to the bay, was a gentle meadow—the terrain was unsuitable for a surprise attack. The Lesser Demons had limited vision, but the hellhounds were the finest scouts. He feared that as soon as they left the forest, they would be detected immediately.
Once discovered, merely thinking about the densely packed and ever-increasing demons by the teleportation gate made him feel a sense of despair.
He couldn’t help but wish for a battle to unfold among the hills; however, the demons were not fools. Moreover, they had already run out of choices.
At that moment, a rustling sound approached from behind him. Brendel didn’t need to turn around to know it was the Countess from Yan Fortress; only she could make such a clumsy noise.
“Mr. Brendel.”
“You want to ask what you can do?” Brendel replied without looking back.
“…You must not be well-liked by girls, Mr. Brendel,” Dierphir replied with a hint of exasperation after a pause. “I wanted to know what I can do. You must be looking at my ability to summon demons.”
“Ha,” Brendel chuckled weakly, “You guessed it?”
“There’s no other possibility,” Dierphir looked somewhat troubled. “But I might disappoint you. Although I secretly studied necromancy, I can only summon very low-grade demons.”
Brendel looked at her curiously. “Really? But I have a question for you, Countess: Are you not afraid at all? You know what this means here, right?”
He glanced at the clock; there were still three minutes left. There was time, so he decided to ask this question that had long been on his mind. He could somewhat guess the reason behind Reld, the White Lion Army’s commander, joining the fight. That prominent figure historically played a tragic role—one could say he was a tragic hero, a rarity among Erluin’s other nobles, yet he chose a path that was clearly wrong.
To be honest, Brendel did not agree with Reld’s choice. Personally, it might be admirable, but from the perspective of that elder, it seemed overly shortsighted. A single faulty judgment may jeopardize the kingdom’s future; such a mistake couldn’t be overlooked simply due to noble intentions.
But if Reld sought to atone for his blunders, Brendel found it puzzling regarding the Countess of Yan Fortress’s actions. Though she was his chosen candidate, her reaction was somewhat too outstanding, as if knightly spirit overflowed.
This contrasted sharply with Brendel’s impression of her.
Dierphir hesitated but eventually nodded seriously, “I know I might die here, Mr. Brendel.”
Brendel listened as she continued, “But the Yan Fortress family has more than one heir. If I die here today, the Shieldbearer family will gain glory through me and wash away the shame brought about by the shattering of the Swordseat. If I live, the family will not be reborn because of me; if I die, I cannot decide the fate of myself and my family.”
“So I think maybe I can at least determine the value of my life,” Dierphir looked at Brendel earnestly. “Moreover, I would rather die bravely and honorably, to die beside a true knight and shed the last drop of blood for this kingdom; isn’t that quite romantic?”
She smiled gently, reminiscent of a noble lady’s grace.
“Romantic, you say?”
Brendel found it hard to understand her inexplicable spirit of sacrifice, just as he always struggled to grasp the nobility’s binding of personal freedom for the sake of the family. He looked at the Countess, feeling for the first time that there was an invisible chasm between them.
“Is it worth it?”
“Worth it,” Dierphir nodded affirmatively.
“Alright,” Brendel shrugged and decided to shift to a lighter topic. “But speaking of which, is the shattering of the Swordseat that serious for you?”
“Of course, Yan Fortress swore an oath to protect the Swordseat. With its shattering, it means the Lionheart Sword must find a new master, which is a huge blow for us. The family has to face the scrutiny and blame of aspirants,” she elaborated.
“I see,” Brendel understood at last. He had suspected as much. If Yan Fortress had not encountered trouble, Dierphir wouldn’t have been sent out alone to run about.
“But didn’t the Lionheart Sword return to the princess’s hands?”
“Mr. Brendel, we swore allegiance to the Siphai royal family back then. Later, when the Lionheart Sword went missing, it was fortunate that the Swordseat still existed. Thus, Corvado’s ancestors swore to inherit the throne in front of the Swordseat, and the Yan Fortress family today actually pledges allegiance to the Corvado royal family, not the princess.” The Countess explained in detail.
Upon hearing this, Brendel completely understood. However, to be frank, even if he comprehended the reasoning, he couldn’t grasp the other side’s choice.
He fell silent for a moment and took out a circular object from the dimensional rift. “Your family will gain glory through you; however, I must admit, I regret it,” Brendel replied quietly.
“Mr. Brendel, you don’t have to—ah—” Dierphir gaped at the object, her eyes wide. “This is…”
“A Demon Armlet?”
Brendel nodded slowly.
Five minutes passed quickly; when Brendel and Dierphir returned from the forest’s edge, everyone was already ready to go.
He didn’t say much; in fact, he wasn’t in the mood to speak, and he directly nodded to lead everyone forward. They traversed the forest, quickly ascending the northern slope. Before this, Brendel had reminded himself multiple times that this adventurous endeavor bore similarities to his past experiences in the game—whether it was his earlier escape from the lizardmen’s encirclement or the life-threatening raid against the undead in the Second Black Rose War, or later during the Clover operation when he relayed information beneath the noses of the Crusians.
Each time, they succeeded, didn’t they?
But it was the silence of everyone before their departure that brought him a different sense of meaning. The air seemed thick with tension and anxiety, reminding him of the night with Buche.
Through the gaps of the tree canopy, the teleportation gate of the Flame Door stood like three massive golden rings in the rain, and just the sight of them instilled a great pressure. Thankfully, to ensure the area around the teleportation gate was clear, not a single flying creature could be seen in the northern sky of Ampere Seale.
Neither the barbaric demons nor the harpies.
This was perhaps the only solace Brendel found.
The demons must have been very confident about the forces near the gate as there were no patrol teams set in the surrounding hills. Of course, demons typically had no patrols—they fought in a straightforward, violent, and direct manner, relying on sheer numbers.
Brendel had initially thought he would encounter Jotungrund, but it seemed luck was on his side. He cautiously led the others through the overgrown areas, nervously watching the hilltop where the hellhounds made their lair. However, it seemed the enemy had no awareness of a troop appearing north of Ampere Seale. Before long, they smoothly approached the sparse forest area close to the grass meadow.
Brendel was the first to roll to the outer side of a tree at the forest’s edge and peeked outside. The nearest teleportation gate was less than a thousand meters away, so massive that it almost seemed within reach.
Brendel took a deep breath and turned back to gesture to the others. Everyone crouched low, crawling towards the edge of the woods.
To be honest, this was not a novel maneuver. Scouts often approached enemy forces in this manner and even trained their horses to do the same, but if there were aerial reconnaissance units, doing so across a vast meadow would be akin to courting death.
However, Brendel had his eyes set on the clear area near the teleportation gate.
They gradually crawled out from the forest’s edge and slowly entered the meadow. Brendel occasionally raised his head to observe the hellhounds’ reaction—in all demons, the hellhounds indisputably had the best senses, even those higher-ranked horned demons paled in comparison.
Fortunately, Martha seemed to be on their side this time, having advanced three to four hundred meters; although it took a full ten minutes, those hellhounds still had yet to react as they got about halfway closer.
But clearly, fortune had come to an end.
Suddenly, Brendel saw a hellhound perk up alertly. If he still entertained any hopes at this point, the moment that creature turned its gaze toward their direction, he immediately realized their group had been discovered.
At this distance, it was likely not because they had been seen, but rather because the creature caught the scent of humans. He had to admit that even though he was prepared for this, he felt his heart race. This was in pouring rain; if it were sunny, they probably wouldn’t have hidden in the forest.
The two main scouting soldier types of the demons, the flying barbaric demons and the terrestrial hellhounds, had formidable reputations not merely as player fabrications. Brendel saw those six crimson eyes sweep in their direction, and he instantly felt a shiver down his spine, involuntarily shouting:
“Antinna!”
The noble lady understood immediately, moving close to him. Brendel climbed up from the ground, scooping her up around the waist, and took off running straight toward the teleportation gate ahead. “Quick! First, destroy the nearest gate!”
The moment he moved, he saw all the hellhounds on the hillrise stand up in unison. The slightly slower reaction came from the horned demons by the gate. These towering demons immediately kicked aside the lesser demons engaged in brawls, swearing at them to prepare for battle.
Then the figures of demon sorcerers emerged near the gate, who had seemingly hidden among the lesser demons. As they stood, blood-red flames ignited in their hands and rained down like raindrops toward Brendel and the others.
With one hand holding Antinna and the other drawing the Earth Sword, he was quite familiar with the usual tricks of these horned demons and prepared to counterattack, but just at that moment, the knight and swordmaster Nicolas had already positioned themselves ahead of him, reaching out their hands. Countless golden-red lines of magical laws immediately extended forward, swallowing every fireball entirely.
In the presence of these two fire-wielding masters, those little demon sorcerers’ fireball spells were hardly worth noting.
Brendel couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief; the reason he had specified Nicolas to join was precisely because of this. Demons were indeed adept at manipulating fire, but compared to Nicolas from the side of truth, they indeed seemed like mere children.
(PS: Apologies for the delay; I pledge to improve. Tomorrow, a new month starts—might as well write something as an update. Sorry for being late today; thank you for your understanding.) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, feel free to cast your recommendations or monthly votes on qidian.com; your support is my greatest motivation.)
