Chapter 828: Act 9 – Xi’s Long Journey
The fog parted over the sea, gradually revealing a rugged cape jutting out of the water, as a beam of light pierced through the mist and illuminated the sides of the Biscayne. The sailors on the deck recognized this as a navigation light and hurriedly hoisted the sails, the first mate shouting orders while the helmsman turned the wheel, all while waiting for the pilot boat to approach. Captain Deyling, with a pipe in his mouth and a damp trench coat, stood behind the third mast, squinting at the sight before turning back to nod at a nearby sailor, who quickly dashed down the deck toward the third cabin.
Ahead lay Graywind Port.
Upon receiving this news, Viscount Bernie immediately informed Barban and Beimer. Actually, they had already deduced this information from the sailors running back and forth through the corridor. At this moment, a fist-sized mouse scurried through the cabin aisle, but no one had the leisure to bother with this unwelcome guest during their voyage. Several cabin doors were ajar, and the waves and winds brought in from the deck cascaded down the staircase like a waterfall, filling the area with a strong scent of the sea. Below decks, chaos reigned.
Viscount Bernie led Barban and Beimer against the surge of exiting sailors, the three men silent and grim-faced, as if molded into one expression. They walked to the bottom of the cabin, in front of a wooden door locked with an iron chain. Bernie turned back and exchanged a glance with his two imperial colleagues, then took a key from his coat. The keys rattled on the iron ring as he grasped the lock and with a click, unlocked it. The iron chain fell away like a dead snake, splashing into the corridor’s standing water, but the three did not glance back, merely pushing the door open.
Behind the door was an unused storage room, filled with empty barrels and wooden crates, but at the very back was a large piece of golden crystal covered by a curtain. Viscount Bernie gazed at the black curtain, which had already soaked in water at the edges, and asked, “Is everything ready?” Barban and Beimer nodded in unison.
The fleet would return by passing through the Longhorn Strait into the silver bay controlled by the Hallowed Temple of Earth. Although the naval forces of the Hallowed Temple were almost negligible against the Empire, Viscount Bernie would not take that risk and opted for the safer land route—landing at Graywind Port, crossing the Blackblade Barrier, and re-entering the Empire—this journey would take about a week, and after returning to the Empire, they would need another month to reach Rustra, but it was far less risky than on the sea. Currently, the northern regions of Erluin were still held by the traditional noble powers of the kingdom, and the Empire still maintained significant influence in these areas. Reflecting on this, Bernie could not help but lament the negative impact of the battle of Ampere Seale; without the Cecils’ blunders, how could the Empire have completely lost control of the southern lands of Erluin? Presently, the final blockade of the Erluin royal family lay before him: the home port of the First Royal Fleet at Graywind Port. The port master had already been bribed, but how to transport this large piece of crystal off the ship without attracting attention was a troublesome issue.
Ideally, they could shatter the crystal and retrieve the person inside along with the guns, but a few days ago, he had tested it with his own sword. The magical sword had barely touched the crystal’s surface before bouncing back and breaking into three pieces. His silver-tier longsword, which had cost several thousand Cruz coins to purchase from a minor noble, along with some maneuvering, was now useless, and he was left with regret over its premature demise. However, he still held hope, as Beimer had told him Barban possessed a family heirloom, the Silver Dragon’s Throat, a fantasy-tier weapon that might be able to breach the surface of the crystal. He approached Barban, who hesitated at first, seemingly worried about harming the girl inside; however, Bernie scoffed at this concern. If they succeeded in this task and returned to the Empire, what wealth and status wouldn’t be available to them? Why obsess over a mountain girl?
Fortunately, Barban didn’t seem overly rigid. After some persuasion, he finally nodded in agreement. Turning to look at him, Barban didn’t appear doubtful, as he pulled out the silver hand crossbow, loaded a bolt, and aimed it at the crystal covered with the curtain. Bernie nodded appreciatively, thinking of Barban as a person who gets things done, quick and decisive. In comparison, Beimer seemed much weaker and overly timid. As he reflected on this, he shifted his gaze to Beimer, who seemed to snap out of a daze and hurriedly walked up to unveil the curtain. Bernie couldn’t help but sigh internally at this scene; Beimer’s actions placed him in a truly weak position among the three, ensuring that if there were accolades, he wouldn’t receive the foremost share—essentially, this was destiny determined by character.
Barban drew the hand crossbow, and with a bang, pulled the trigger. A silver bolt shot toward the crystal’s smooth surface. Before anyone could react, the silver light suddenly reversed at hundreds of times its original speed, piercing through Barban’s right arm, shattering the bones in his hand. Then the bolt, like a swimming fish, darted into Barban’s chest, emerging from his back with a thunk, pinning itself to the cabin’s rear wall, the bloodied tail trembling as it buzzed.
Barban opened his mouth in shock, a look of despair and unwillingness flashing in his pale blue eyes. He glanced once more at the girl, sleeping like a princess within the crystal, then fell back to the ground like a wooden plank, crashing into the water with a splash, leading the standing water in the cabin to bloom in layers of light crimson. Everything happened too suddenly, leaving Beimer nearly stunned, while Viscount Bernie’s face darkened. He looked at the crystal—its surface was flawless without a single blemish. “What are you dazed about? Hurry and get Sir Barban out!” He bit out through clenched teeth. “Where should I take him?” Beimer’s face turned pale; he wanted to say—Barban was clearly dead!
Bernie shot him an irritated glance, his voice low, “Sir Barban died for his country; do you want to leave his body floating in the water?”
Only then did Beimer come to himself, frantically reaching for Barban’s shoulders to pull him from the water back into the cabin. “No, stop!” Seeing Beimer attempt to drag Barban’s corpse to the lower deck, Bernie shouted at him, almost wanting to stab this fool with a sword: “Don’t take him back; bring his body to the first-class cabin. Are you an idiot?” At that moment, a sailor passed by Barban’s corpse and Beimer, casting them a curious glance before approaching Viscount Bernie, whispering, “My lord, the port authorities sent someone to ask us to dock a chain length away, preparing for inspection.”
“Tell them this is the ambassador fleet of the Cruz Empire, and we do not accept inspections from other countries. Also, let them prepare doctors or priests, stating that we lost someone in the fight against pirates; we need to arrange a proper funeral and prepare for preservation. We cannot leave the Empire’s valiant warrior on foreign soil. Go, answer them as such,” Viscount Bernie replied coolly.
The sailor was taken aback for a moment: “Against pirates?” But after noticing Barban and Beimer, he suddenly understood, quickly nodding and running off.
“Wait,” Bernie called the sailor back at the staircase: “Go prepare a box.”
“A box, my lord, how big should it be?” the sailor asked, standing barefoot on the wet staircase, turning back. “Very large, a box for carrying horses.” “We don’t have that kind of box on the ship, my lord; it can only be arranged with the port authorities.” “Then tell them we’ve captured a gift for Her Majesty the Empress and ask them to help prepare it.” “Is that all, my lord?” “That’s all. Go.” Bernie nodded, and once the sailor had run up to the deck, he turned his gaze back to the large crystal, a thought flashing through his mind:
“Could it be that only a divine artifact can break this thing?”
…
Flourfa had been missing for two days. During this time, Princess Margadale had awakened once, and Brendel awaited the arrival of the young knight from the Broken Sword Order and the Cruz prince in New Valhalla. However, it seemed that Veronika had many matters to finish; she and Mangolov had not yet departed from Port Gris. Reports from the south and north piled up on the desk in his office at Valhalla Tree Hall; most of these reports were superficial. Brendel glanced through a few; they merely tracked the movements of the northern nobles. Some reports mentioned that Count Rendener had completed his mobilization, and eyewitnesses had seen an army depart from the Magitan region heading south. The war in the southern lands, long prepared for, was imminent.
Lantonrand and Vieiro’s coalition was advancing south, but their marching direction remained confidential. Brendel lifted his head to look at the map of Erluin hanging on the wall, his gaze sweeping over the Marlovell region. Judging by the timeline, this army should have already entered that area. Yet Rendener and his blood staff knew nothing of their fate, unaware of what lay ahead. This war was only waiting for a trigger, the departure of Duke Toniger’s army, but Brendel, too, awaited a time node; he absolutely wouldn’t act rashly before that moment.
Other reports mentioned unusual movements in the direction of Buche regarding the undead. These were all within Brendel’s expectations; in fact, the information received was even sparser than he had anticipated. Toniger’s intelligence network was constructed from the first batch of adventurers under Toniger plus a group from the Bronzesteeldragon Mercenary Company. After several rounds of screening and conflicts with Toniger’s external wars, the surviving elite were mostly loyal, but their capabilities remained somewhat lacking. The performers from the direction of Ampere Seale were the most prominent, while the northern ones were slightly less skilled, and in regard to Madara and Cruz, information was purely hearsay.
However, the civil war in Erluin was no longer the most difficult enemy standing in his path; instead, the shadow of the undead from the south loomed larger day by day, posing the true threat to Erluin’s survival. Moreover, the northern Cruz Empire was also stirring. Brendel increasingly felt that his intelligence network was thin. Talent remained a priority; he needed to ensure loyalty and reliability while also having exceptional ability. Antinna, Charles, Freya, and even Romaine did not fit this mold. However, Brendel suddenly thought of one person—Sue. Her performance in Ampere Seale was remarkable: calm, composed, and possessing keen intellect. Such a person was a natural spy. Though Brendel himself had little talent in this area, it wouldn’t hinder him from recognizing potential.
“Perhaps I should find a time to bring her over from Charles,” he thought, continuing to flip through the documents he had previously reviewed, placing them at the bottom. After looking through more than ten pages, his brow furrowed again.
This day still bore no news of Xi.
The mountain girl seemed to have truly vanished from this world. Since that day when he last saw her in the Spiral Hall, there had been no word, and not even a glimpse of a girl with similar characteristics had been seen around the civilized settlements near the Frostgrave Forest. Brendel felt a sense of agitation mounting within him; he slammed his hand against the information, already half a month gone. Earlier, he could still reassure himself that Xi could not be in any trouble, but now that excuse felt increasingly hollow. Sometimes, Brendel even wondered if Xi had indeed chosen to leave him. Or had she temporarily lost her memory due to the violent impact of the explosion? These conjectures were not only melodramatic but also failed to account for the fact that no one had seen Xi since.
Could Milo’s folly truly be deceiving them? But that seemed unnecessary for a deity.
He stood up from his seat before sitting back down, tapping his fingers on the table, and for a moment considered going back to the Frostgrave Forest personally, but he knew it would be futile. An inkling urged him that Xi might no longer be in the Frostgrave Forest. Perhaps she had left even earlier, yet why had no one seen her? Brendel remained puzzled.
He could only commission Lantonrand’s side to assist in broadening the search range; in fact, Duke Carnon had already shown some confusion over why he was so obsessed with a mere maid, but Brendel didn’t care.
At that moment, someone finally pushed open the door. Brendel looked up to see the white-dressed Kehua enter, with flowing white hair and light silver eyes, the younger sister of the twins, the kind Kehua. Behind her followed her elder sister, Dark Kehua, who shot him an impatient glance, her blood-red eyes filled with provocation. In truth, Brendel had no doubt that if given the chance, she would pounce on him and bite him with her sharp canine teeth; the hatred was unabashed. He looked past the sisters, finally resting his gaze on Nemeses—a knight who had been able to get off her feet days ago and was now helping him with a few manageable tasks in Valhalla as part of her rehabilitation training. Her recovery was rapid, making Brendel suspect that this lady perhaps possessed some special abilities.
Nemeses also glanced at him, her calm eyes conveying: I’ve brought the person you wanted.
Brendel nodded in acknowledgment toward her.
Then he turned his gaze to the Kehua sisters.
“Lord Earl, we meet again today.” The kind Kehua smiled as she answered, always so polite.
Her sister ended the greeting with a huff.
Brendel didn’t mind. He had called the Kehua sisters over today to ascertain their relationship with Valhalla and his territory. In the final battle at the Hall of the Sleepers, Dark Kehua ultimately forsook the divinity of Milo to preserve her soul’s mark, choosing not to perish alongside the giant god’s body and divine flames. Her current state could be described as a product existing between a heroic spirit and a certain law. However, this state was not something she found unacceptable since, after all, it was just one of the manifestations of the Dusk race in this world.
But the issue was that, regardless of how Dark Kehua and Kind Kehua existed in the world, they had already altered the history that Brendel was familiar with. The eldest daughter of Echis was alive; what would become of her other daughters’ fates? Would her own outcome mirror that in the games? It was difficult to say, and Brendel felt he had touched on another line in the world of Vaunte. The change in the historical fate of the Cruz Empire had begun; thus, even though the Frostgrave Forest journey had concluded, he still could not decide how to deal with this pair of sisters.
Seeing the twin sisters momentarily pushed aside his growing frustrations, he spoke up, “Miss Kehua, have you settled in well during your time in my territory?”
“Lord Earl’s territory is peaceful, and the people live and work in harmony, far from strife. I quite like it. Moreover, Valhalla’s scenery is beautiful, and I am honored to reside in this legendary fortress; there is nothing I am unsatisfied with,” the kind Kehua replied with a slight smile, her answer sincere. Dark Kehua shot a disappointed look at her sister’s soft-heartedness and pouted, “Hmph! Anyway, if I say I’m not happy, you won’t let me leave, hypocrite, annoying brat.”
“Right, Miss Kehua, do you remember what I once said to you? My not killing you carries a significant risk. You should understand that you are part of Dusk, and your existence is intrinsically hostile toward the civilized world. But you are kind-hearted; I do not wish to kill an innocent person over a possibility that does not align with my principles. However, from a stance of responsibility, I hope you won’t distance yourself from my protection, okay?” Brendel asked.
The kind Kehua nodded: “I completely understand, Lord Earl.”
Brendel looked at this girl, whose pure heart was like a clear lake, and felt a moment of awe. Was this truly Echis’s eldest daughter? Her purity and kindness could make most humans feel ashamed. Even he felt compelled to check his own suspicions. However, given the gravity of the situation, Brendel wouldn’t change his mind due to temporary emotions. He calmed down and turned his gaze to Dark Kehua.
Dark Kehua was slightly taller than her sister, and Brendel thought this might be a manifestation of her strong character. She disdainfully eyed him with her blood-red gaze. “Is this the reason you requested our presence, Lord Earl? Truly unnecessary. My sister and I are now powerless, delicate maidens; you can easily order us into confinement here. So, there’s no need for such hypocritical requests for our consent.”
Brendel was nearly exasperated by her words. What did she mean, powerless maidens? The kind Kehua’s strength was recovering day by day since leaving the Hall of the Sleepers; she was nearing peak elemental proficiency. In contrast, Dark Kehua had suffered severely from the theft of Milo’s divinity and likely wouldn’t regain her vitality any time soon; this was purely self-inflicted. Yet now, it seemed this young lady had placed all the blame on him. He couldn’t help but squint at her, replying nonchalantly, “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. That comment was directed at your sister; as for you, Miss Kehua, as a war criminal and prisoner, you can’t enjoy the same high-level treatment.”
Dark Kehua’s brow furrowed slightly as she asked anxiously, “What do you mean?”
“You took my possession; naturally, you will have to work for me to repay your debt,” Brendel replied.
Kehua’s eyes widened, her beautiful blood-red eyes staring incredulously at him. “When did I take something of yours?”
Brendel shook his head, reflecting on everything that had transpired back then.
