Chapter 862: Act 40 – Two Letters V
Brendel and the two others, led by Dawn, stepped onto the damp pine needles as they entered his family’s manor. Old Scott’s mill was located by the Buche River, surrounded by a lush pine forest. However, at this time of year, the pine needles had already turned a light brown color. Through the trees, one could vaguely see a wooden and stone watermill, with its huge waterwheel partially submerged in the rushing river, slowly turning and sending up white splashes. The water flowed swiftly but was clear, allowing the pebbles on the riverbed to be seen at a glance.
In Brendel’s memory, this was just a corner of the estate. Inside the woods, there were actually some houses, and behind those houses stood a warehouse, beyond which stretched a vast expanse of farmland. At the far end of the farmland connected a dense, endless forest, the Deer Forest south of Bruglas. This land was filled with his childhood memories; he didn’t even need to actively recall it, as the images would automatically surface in his mind.
Dawn chattered along the way about things that had happened in Bruglas over the past two years—he was an old servant in the manor and could also be considered a hired farmer. In such a small estate, the social hierarchy was not split into finer details; Brendel only knew that this person had been working here since before he was born, back in his grandfather’s time. He had a wife named Nuo Sha, who also worked as a cook in the manor, and Brendel had always referred to her as Aunt Nuo Sha. There were also a few other families of servants in the manor, each in similar circumstances.
Brendel deliberately scrutinized this uncle-like figure whom he had known for nearly twenty years. He was still the same as in his memories, chattering away like an old woman, giving him earnest advice not to go missing for such a long time without a word. However, regardless of what he said, he still showed great humility towards his young master.
To this, Brendel could only smile slightly, treating his words as nothing more than a gentle breeze brushing past him. However, he paid special attention to Dawn’s hands—they were definitely not the hands of a farmer; the numerous callused spots suggested they had been shaped by many years of wielding a sword, especially a heavy sword. He knew that Erluin and Cruz soldiers favored heavy swords in combat, particularly the Highland cavalry.
This so-called Uncle Dawn, at the very least, had silver rank prowess; among Highland knights, he would be a captain. It struck Brendel that he had been completely unaware of such details in the past; he really didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t expose the truth but silently followed behind, listening to Dawn’s rambling. Many of the things Dawn spoke of, Brendel was already aware of. After the Black Rose War, he had indeed stayed in Bruglas for a long time. It was the most tumultuous period for Bruglas, as the undead retreated and refugees flooded in. Losing the Buche region had significantly changed the southern landscape of Golan-Elsen and noticeably impacted this border town. However, hearing of his disappearance, knowing that his mother had been crying almost daily, stirred a wave of guilt within him—a guilt that came purely from the heart, a feeling rooted deep within his bloodline.
He darkened his expression. Noticing his young master’s demeanor, Dawn turned and reassured him, “It’s alright, just returning is good enough.”
The two young ladies trailed behind, quietly listening. Although they had known Brendel for a long time, they were thoroughly curious about his mysterious origins. The chatty old servant, the hidden little manor in the woods, even the creaking watermill satisfied their curiosity immensely. Antinna only learned of her lord’s background after the battle with Ampere Seale, but she had never imagined that the legendary Sword Saint Darus had been hiding away here as a mill owner after going missing. Meanwhile, Freya had suspected from the very beginning that Brendel might be a noble young master; to her, there wasn’t any significant difference between big and small nobles. The manor owner was, in her eyes, a person of prominence. She thought to herself that she hadn’t guessed wrong, especially since Brendel was also the grandson of Lord Darus.
Of course, Dawn noticed the two ladies as well. He didn’t think too much of it, merely considering his young master to be quite capable. The noble daughters and the lady knight, while not drop-dead beauties, were definitely among the rarest of beauties in Bruglas, especially Antinna, who came from a noble family; her every move exuded an elegant and serene way. Having seen the world, he knew that typical minor nobles couldn’t cultivate such refined noble etiquette. He couldn’t help but wonder if his young master had somehow seduced a count’s daughter along the way.
Then there was Freya, who was even more remarkable. Dawn could tell with just one glance that she was a soldier and that she had learned knightly etiquette—she seemed to be an active knight, too. He caught a glimpse of Freya’s epaulet and couldn’t help but exclaim a silent prayer to Martha, thinking that his young master had deceived them into bringing a lady knight back. Coming from the Highland knightly system, he naturally understood Erluin’s military organization; a knight captain like her surely possessed at least peak silver-level prowess. Dawn couldn’t discern Brendel’s strength, considering that after achieving elemental awakening, signs of his power had vanished. To outsiders, Brendel now appeared as an average person, and who would associate a young man not even twenty years old with the prowess of an elemental expert?
If others were unclear, he certainly was not; he knew exactly what strength his young master possessed. If Brendel had achieved elemental awakening in just a year and a half, Dawn would have thought he was joking.
However, he couldn’t help but think of the guests in the manor, feeling a bit of a headache. He wondered how to handle the two outstanding and troublesome young ladies his young master had brought back.
Of course, he wouldn’t express these thoughts out loud. Antinna and Freya, however, sensed that Dawn’s gaze upon them was a bit unusual. They both blushed simultaneously, and upon seeing this, Dawn understood nearly everything, thinking that his young master was indeed quite remarkable.
The three of them twisted through several paths until they entered the manor. As soon as Brendel stepped into the estate, his heart felt a rush of warmth, for he saw a familiar backview not far ahead. That figure stood in the stable next to the mill, looking to be in his forties, tall in stature, holding a pipe, and wearing a common farmer’s hat typical for the area. At first, he seemed oblivious to the presence behind him, busy grooming a horse’s mane, but upon hearing a noise behind him, he paused and turned his head slightly. His gaze landed on Brendel, and his brows furrowed sharply.
This was his father, Old Scott.
Brendel hesitated on how to initiate this first meeting with the people who were the closest to him in this world. However, as if it were a natural reaction, when he saw that face, he unconsciously blurted out, “I’m back, old man…”
His voice trembled slightly, his chest filled with an intense emotion that told him—this was his home, his father, his closest family. Yet, he wanted to say something else, only to feel dryness in his mouth as he couldn’t utter a word.
Old Scott didn’t say anything either; he merely glanced at Brendel twice before snorting coldly. He dropped the grooming brush and turned to walk into the house, leaving Brendel awkwardly standing there.
“Ah,” Dawn sighed upon witnessing this scene, “Brendel, Mr. Scott…”
“You don’t need to say anything, Uncle Dawn, I understand,” Brendel forced a bitter smile. He certainly knew this was his mistake, and he understood his old man’s personality—what he had previously regarded as stubbornness was more like a soldier’s principle. Just from that brief glance, he already realized that the family secrets had probably been kept from him alone. His father was no mere mill owner; his strength exceeded even that of Dawn, possessing a typical soldier’s aura. In the current Erluin, such professionalism could only be found among the Highland knights.
He now understood that his father had likely participated in the November War and very possibly served under his grandfather.
He turned back and noticed Freya looking a bit uneasy, while the noble daughter cast a sly glance at him. He sighed, “Uncle Dawn, you take care of your own work.”
“Alright.” Dawn clearly understood his master’s temperament, agreeing repeatedly. He took one last look at Brendel and the two young ladies, then led a donkey around to the back of the farm. He had originally planned to head out but now that the young master was back, these mundane matters were of little consequence.
“Brendel, are you alright?” Freya asked with some concern once Dawn had left.
Brendel gave her a reassuring glance, indicating that everything was fine, but it was evident to anyone that this earl, who remained calm in the face of Madara’s army, demons, and Cruz’s forces, was quite nervous deep down. Antinna observed her lord’s demeanor and wanted to say a few comforting words, but opening her mouth, she didn’t know how.
After all, it was a matter of their lord’s family…
After quite some time, a woman hurriedly emerged from the house inside. As soon as she reached the door, she spotted Brendel standing in the open space outside and seemed momentarily mesmerized. At that moment, Brendel felt a tightness in his chest—some emotions did not require words to describe. He hadn’t expected that in just six months since he left, the familiar face in his memory had aged somewhat. His mother, Windsor, who was once known as a beauty in the nearby area, now had wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and strands of silver were showing in her hair. Though it felt like they hadn’t seen each other for a moment, time had indeed passed.
At that moment, all he could think of was a single thought: “A child wishes to care for their parents, yet their parents are no longer waiting.”
Windsor was already tearful, carefully asking, “Brendel, is it really you? You’re back?”
Just those words completely shattered Brendel’s emotional defenses. He pressed his lips together, wanting to say something but finding himself at a loss for words. His vision became blurred as he could only nod vigorously, “I’m sorry, Mother.”
“Foolish child, foolish child,” Windsor rushed over to embrace Brendel, tenderly stroking her son’s face. “You’re back. No need to say sorry.”
“Mother…”
At this moment, no matter how many words or grand aspirations he had in his heart, they could only be distilled into those two words. In all his memories, the passage of time, everything that had happened—the father, the mother, the grandfather, and every drop of familial affection seemed to converge into a flood, bursting forth from his chest. He was Sophie, and he was also Brendel. From the splendid bloom of youth to the raging torrents of the sword years, he had done countless things and even changed this country, altering the fates of many. But only at this moment did he realize that he was not adrift in this world, nor was he a mere spectator with nothing to his name.
He had everything—
Home, this harbor, represented everyone waiting for him within that harbor. He had thought that this world was separated by a barrier from him, but only today did he understand that it was merely a wall he had erected out of fear.
The power of warmth could collapse the most fortified strongholds in this world.
In this moment, Brendel finally awakened to the understanding that some things were latent within one’s bones, the strength in his bloodline that needed no words to describe; it would naturally erupt from the soul at the right moment. It was a scream from deep within the spirit, linked with the essence of emotion. Once unleashed, it would drown all rationality, as the feelings from his past and present converged into one at this moment, allowing him to see the world in a new light.
It existed.
And it was not an illusion.
It was Vaunte belonging to everyone in this world.
And it was also his Vaunte.
Brendel silently bent down, still embraced by his mother as if calming a child, letting her tears fall on his shoulders. He felt a sense of peace within, all fatigue completely set down at that moment, as if returning to that safe harbor, back to those carefree times. Antinna looked on enviously at this scene; she had once had such happiness, but it was long gone. The memories of her father, her mother, were still fresh in her mind. She remembered the last time her mother placed her hand in hers on her sickbed, calling for her by her nickname, “Anna, Anna.” That voice was so weak yet so gentle, her mother’s hand cold enough to chill her heart. But she didn’t know when it started, the noble daughter had been biting her lower lip tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Suddenly, she felt a gentle, weak hand holding hers from behind. Antinna looked back in surprise at Freya, who had also reddened around the eyes. Freya was raised by Aunt Seal and her uncle, and since she became aware, she had never seen her parents’ faces. Perhaps she hadn’t cared in the past, but witnessing this moment still tugged at the most vulnerable strings in her heart.
Brendel had finally calmed his mother, but unexpectedly the two ladies who had followed him were already in tears. He looked at them in confusion but quickly realized something and felt his heart soften. He hurriedly whispered to his mother to introduce Antinna and Freya.
Windsor had long noticed Antinna and Freya, her gaze not inferior to Dawn’s, immediately discerning that both young ladies were exceptional. She couldn’t help but give Brendel a disapproving look, as though scolding him for his insufficient care towards the girls. She had only just learned about their backgrounds from Brendel, and sympathy flooded her heart. She quickly went over to grasp both of their hands, softly comforting them.
Antinna was fine, quickly calming down, drying her tears, and feeling a bit shy as she reintroduced herself to Brendel’s mother. However, she kept insisting she was Brendel’s aide, which earned her several reproachful glances from Windsor, as if to say she would have a reckoning later. Brendel silently lamented; he quickly tried to catch Antinna’s eye to signal her, but unexpectedly, the usually gentle and quiet aide seemed to ignore him, only managing to smile back at him after a long while.
“Wow,” Brendel finally understood that Antinna was indeed being willful. He had never seen a noble lady act like this, but it seemed that women shared some common traits.
Fortunately, Freya still maintained the innocence of the young girl from Buche; though she was initially sad, now, as Windsor held her hand and inquired about her, she felt both shy and embarrassed, unable to utter a word. Brendel, observing his mother’s demeanor, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He finally found an opportunity to join the conversation and was about to speak when Windsor turned to him, her expression somewhat serious. “Brendel, Freya and Antinna are both good girls. You mustn’t let them down.”
As soon as she said this, both Antinna and Freya flushed red, the aide stealing a glance at Brendel, while Freya practically buried her head in her chest.
“What on earth is going on?” Brendel was taken aback, wanting to explain, but his mother glared at him fiercely: “By the way, how do you plan to explain this to Uncle Bud?”
“Uncle Bud? Explain? Explain what?” Brendel was momentarily dazed, confused as to why he’d never noticed his mother’s jumpy thought process before. He thought for a long while before he finally realized who the name belonged to—Bud, the commander of the Highland Knights. “The Highland Knights are indeed in the estate, and it’s very possible that Bud himself has come!” This piece of information flashed through his mind. However, he couldn’t help but scratch his head. The problem was, what could he possibly need to explain to the Highland Knights? He was pretty sure he hadn’t offended them, right? He stared suspiciously at his mother, opening his mouth to ask, “Mother, what on earth is going on?”
