Chapter 729: Act 86 – Redemption I
As Princess Erluin ascended to the second floor of the hall, it seemed as if she were followed by the two queens of ice and snow, ‘Airaser’ or ‘Loningna’. The hall was quiet, as still as winter’s silence; it felt like a ghost passing through the crowd, and the whispers fell like frost, turning to powder. As the Minren said about the glaciers: ‘The ghosts can swallow human voices.’
Brendel’s gaze returned from the extravagant balcony, meeting Grifian’s sharp eyes. The elven princess leaned against the railing, her gaze as sharp as a sword, looking down at him, causing his heart to skip a beat.
Brendel felt that there was something unusual in Princess Grifian’s eyes, a coldness like that of an executioner looking at a condemned prisoner.
“What’s wrong?” he wondered, as he had never seen the princess regard him with such an expression, neither in this life nor his previous one.
The peculiar silence lasted only a moment before Princess Grifian shifted her gaze away, officially announcing the beginning of the banquet on the second floor. It was as if the musicians had finally come to their senses, and the melodious notes of the marimba filled the hall again.
Everything that had happened before now seemed like an illusion, but as Brendel watched the princess turn to descend the stairs, he felt a vague sense of unease. He turned to the young prince, who was disguised as Princess Bethyl, and asked, “Haruzer, did your sister mention anything to you?”
“Teacher…” Haruzer hesitated, his snow-white, delicate neck glistening under the light, but covered in fine beads of sweat, indicating that he was somewhat nervous.
Just then, a cold voice interrupted Haruzer’s words from behind them: “My lord Viscount.”
Brendel turned to see an aged female official standing behind him and Haruzer. She wore a light blue formal gown, her hair graying, and each wrinkle on her face seemed like a mark of authority. Only when she saw them did her stern expression slightly soften into a rehearsed smile. “Viscount Kartel, Miss Bethyl, the princess is looking for you.”
“Her Highness? Looking for us?”
“Yes, Her Highness is waiting for you and Miss Bethyl over there,” the official replied.
“What does Her Highness want with us?” Brendel’s heart filled with doubt. He could not shake the feeling that Princess Grifian’s chilling gaze had a deeper meaning. Moreover, Haruzer had just left his sister, and now the princess sought them out, clearly not for her ‘sister’s’ sake.
The current situation was already very different from historical events. Brendel knew that there had to be some memories of Kartel involved, but extracting these memories from the dream and finding the targets they pointed to was not an easy task.
Suddenly, Brendel thought of a possibility: “What if Viscount Kartel is an enemy of Her Highness in this dream?” If Kartel stood against Grifian, then perhaps the princess’s gaze would be easier to understand.
“But if Viscount Kartel stands against the princess, who could his identity be?”
Dreams may be mere fantasies, but fantasies do not generate on their own. Just as people cannot conjure things they have never seen, even mythical creatures, dragons, and demons originate from what one has observed in reality. Thus, Kartel’s presence at this banquet must have replaced another individual in the event.
“Who could that person be? Kartel’s lingering memories must choose someone who shares a similar experience. This person could not be insignificant, for they must be linked to Princess Bethyl, who represents Haruzer.”
Brendel suddenly remembered that before Haruzer married Airala, he was indeed engaged to someone. The betrothed was Duke Anlek’s adopted daughter, a woman named Aise, who turned out to be an obscure figure in history. However, Brendel knew that she was a wizard with elemental abilities, double life as an assassin and spy cultivated by Anlek.
In other words, if Haruzer had transformed into Bethyl and become Grifian’s sister in this dream, his identity could very well be Aise, an agent and assassin on Anlek’s side.
Brendel felt a chill run down his spine. He pondered over what Kartel’s unfulfilled wish was — the regret of a failed assassination? Or the remorse of a successful one?
If it were the former…
He shivered and glanced back at the closed door on the second floor, like a sinister omen lingering in his mind. Brendel turned to Haruzer — if they had to kill Princess Grifian to escape this dream, would the young prince be able to accept that?
He shook his head inwardly.
“My lord Viscount?” The older female official noticed Brendel’s distraction and asked again.
Brendel nodded, signaling her to lead them to the princess. Just as the official mentioned, Princess Grifian was indeed waiting for them at one side of the hall. She stood beneath the portrait of Emperor Anson XI, an ancestor who had once brought a brief revival to Erluin, much like herself.
It seemed their fates would be similar as well.
The princess gazed up at the portrait until she noticed the two approaching, then turned her head. Brendel noticed that the coldness had vanished from her silver eyes, as if the earlier scene had been a mere illusion.
Upon seeing Brendel and Haruzer, the princess revealed a warm smile: “I apologize for keeping you waiting, Viscount Kartel. Given the current urgency, I must speak with Bethyl beforehand regarding some matters.”
“It’s nothing,” Brendel replied, but his mind was occupied with the prior speculations. If Kartel truly was an assassin, his identity had likely been exposed by now; otherwise, the princess wouldn’t have shown such an expression earlier.
But he was curious as to what Grifian now called him for. If she planned to act against them, the best opportunity would have been while separating Haruzer from him, not bringing her sister back to his side.
Princess Grifian glanced at them, then quietly inquired, “Mr. Viscount, do you remember what I told you before?”
“Which sentence, Your Highness?” Brendel paused, as the substitute for this dream, he held no previous memories of their conversation. While he could guess that everything prior aligned with the historical development, the entire banquet had now completely deviated from his control.
Grifian’s eyes showed a hint of mockery. “Duke Anlek is about to arrive. I know he has arrangements tonight, but I plan to publicly announce your relationship with Bethyl before that. I told you — if I were to meet with misfortune, you and Bethyl could take over the throne and stand up against Anlek.”
“While the nobles may not stand with me, they are not necessarily wholeheartedly supporting Anlek. Since the battle of Ampere Seale, Anlek has garnered many enemies and even foes. If I were to die, they would definitely not allow Anlek to ascend the throne; the Siphai family has old grievances with him. I once let my brother off the hook; after I’m dead, although he may not become your ally, he would certainly be Anlek’s enemy. Moreover, Lantonrand’s old friends will be your steadfast support…”
“Sister…” Haruzer couldn’t help but interject.
“Bethyl, do not interrupt,” Grifian said sternly, looking at her ‘sister’. “Starting today, you must learn to be patient.”
She sighed, appearing somewhat weary: “I do not wish to reach this point. Madara is watching, and Erluin has truly lost its last opportunity. However, the Crusians may not be willing to face the undead, so they may turn to support you. This is Erluin’s final chance —”
Brendel listened quietly to this conversation, puzzled. He had subconsciously regarded Viscount Kartel as the assassin from history, knowing Grifian likely suspected Kartel’s identity. But what puzzled him was why she would speak such words in front of him?
“Does she not fear leaking secrets?”
“Or has she completely regarded herself as a dead person?”
Brendel could not fathom how the princess was thinking, but the dream had now completely deviated from his understanding. Kartel’s dream had intertwined with his and Haruzer’s. He could even smell the thick scent of blood in the air.
He glanced at Haruzer, who also wore a worried expression.
It seemed Princess Grifian had finished her last words and smiled slightly, raising her wine glass towards them — Brendel knew that the historical Grifian was unlikely to be unaware of her impending death; otherwise, she would not have safely transferred Haruzer away beforehand. What she spoke today was something she had also conveyed to the core members of the Crimson Traveler, but it had not been so explicitly stated.
Reflecting on it now, the underlying message of her words back then was already quite clear, but unfortunately, only the senior sister had sensed some clues.
Brendel felt a moment of restraint in his heart. He observed the princess’s gesture and picked up a wine glass from a nearby silver platter — although he had not paid much attention before, after months of intense training from Antinna, he now somewhat grasped the etiquette among nobles.
“Mr. Viscount, to you, to Bethyl, and to Erluin, cheers.” The princess looked at him with her silver eyes, raising her glass. When she mentioned ‘to Erluin’, her emotions seemed to slip a bit, but she still naturally brought the glass to her lips for a sip.
Just as Brendel was about to raise his glass, Haruzer suddenly reached out and knocked the cup from his hand, sending it crashing to the carpet.
“You can’t drink, Teacher, the wine is poisoned.” The young prince said anxiously in a low voice.
Brendel was taken aback, but did not show much surprise on his face. He raised his head to gaze at the princess before him. After deducing Kartel’s identity, he had anticipated that there might be issues with the wine; he had not planned to drink it anyway, but he did not expect Haruzer to dare defy his sister’s wishes.
Though it was merely a fantasy, it was quite a rarity for this young prince.
“Bethyl!” The princess was completely stunned by her sister’s actions. Brendel observed her fist clenched tightly, her brows almost furrowed together. She took a deep breath before coldly asking, “What are you doing?”
“Sister, Mr. Brendel would never harm you… you must be mistaken, he is not that person!” Haruzer could not retort against his sister, so he had to lower his head and argue in a small voice.
“Brendel?”
Princess Grifian paused slightly, looking between her ‘sister’ and Brendel. “Who is that? Bethyl, what are you saying?”
“N-No…” Haruzer realized he had let something slip and hurriedly corrected himself. “Viscount Kartel… he is a good person.”
Brendel found himself unexpectedly in the ‘good person’ category, and the fact that this card was issued by a young boy made him feel a bit awkward. However, he chose not to argue and quietly observed the unfolding scene. In that moment, he could feel something stir deep within him.
This was the tremor of the dream.
In other words, the scene before him was something that Viscount Kartel could have personally experienced in an era long past, at a banquet.
Bethyl was arguing with her sister.
This moment evoked Kartel’s memories, and Brendel felt as if the disgraced knight was returning to the era he belonged to.
He lifted his gaze, seeing the entire hall transforming. The architectural style post-Erluin’s revival gradually shifted to an older era. The glorious relief style of Anson XI faded away, and the staircase railings seemed to morph into more ancient wooden ones. Everything around them, the decorations, and people’s clothing evolved until they reverted to a style familiar to Brendel — no, more accurately, to a certain elven older sister within Brendel’s body.
The time of the wind elves’ restoration of honor.
It was the elves —
Brendel had heard Saint Ausoor speak several times of the era she lived in. What he saw now was so familiar, almost identical to what he had heard.
He turned to see Haruzer standing protectively in front of Princess Grifian.
“Bethyl, he is Anlek’s assassin! He is no longer the Kartel you knew; he has long betrayed you.”
“Sister, that’s impossible! Mr. Brendel would never betray us; I know he… he is not that person!” Haruzer argued quietly, but suddenly realized a horrifying possibility, his beautiful face going pale. He turned back, eyes filled with fear as he stared at Brendel, “Mr. Brendel, you…”
At the same time, the tremor within Brendel grew ever stronger.
He seemed to hear a voice repeating in his heart:
“Kill her!”
“Kill her!”
“Kill them!”
In that moment, he understood clearly that was Viscount Kartel’s identity. Brendel’s hand rested on the sheath of the Great Sword of the Earth, his eyelids lowered slightly, and his palms were clammy with cold sweat.
“What should I do?”
……
(PS: I’m back. I went out and caught a cold, I really am heartless. For today, I’ll write a chapter, and it feels pretty good. Hopefully, I can recover my state by tomorrow. = = Sorry, it’s so difficult for me to write, making everyone follow along painfully… I really want to write smoothly and produce a large amount at once.) (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendation votes and monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)
