Chapter 864: Act 42 – Two Letters VII
A gentle breeze rustled through the treetops, the leaves whispering like a soft tune of the afternoon.
“All of this must start from your grandfather’s era,” the princess’s soft voice seemed to echo this melody, “that was nearly sixty years ago, when King Anson XI reigned, and the kingdom had the Sword Saint Darus, the lord of the Mithril Fortress Turiman. It was the year of thunder; Erluin had just issued the militia training decree, and the Ridenburg—Vanmeal defense line had just begun construction. That was the most glorious time for this ancient kingdom since the Siphai dynasty, and during that time, your grandfather was the brightest name among them.”
Brendel remained silent, gazing towards the fields. The clouds floated above the Great Elk Forest, with the faint, rolling shadows of mountains in the south—those were the heights of Yusong.
Sword Saint Darus was indeed a legend of that era, the strongest Sword Saint in the history of the Erluin Kingdom, and the only royal general to have served as the commander of the allied forces of the Temple of Fire.
However, the brilliance of that star did not last; shortly after the holy war ended, he mysteriously disappeared from history. Some said he had died, others claimed he was merely missing. There were even rumors that when the kingdom faced destruction again, this Sword Saint would return to this land to save Erluin from danger. But Brendel understood that this was merely a beautiful wish. In another version of history, these legends were buried beneath the ashes of the kingdom’s demise, and perhaps hundreds of years later, no one would remember them.
If he had not experienced what he had now, he wouldn’t have understood that Darus had never left the kingdom. He was born in this land, died in this land, and until the last moment of his life, still concealed his name in a city on the kingdom’s edge.
No one could have imagined that in this unassuming mill by the Buche River outside Bruglas, the kingdom’s once-hero lived and was buried.
“Princess Grifian,” Brendel finally spoke. These matters had little to do with his current situation, yet he felt an underlying connection, “You want to tell me what eventually happened to my grandfather, what led him to leave the center of power and take refuge here. I know it must involve Captain Bud and his Highland Knights, perhaps even the Erluin royal family. That’s why you are here, isn’t it?”
“You always have an unusual sharpness when it comes to developments, Sir Knight. It seems you can see both the past and the future. I have admired you for a long time, and still do today,” Grifian said softly, but then she shook her head. “However, I really never deceived you; I truly do not know what happened to your grandfather. I only know that after that, the royal power waned, and the kingdom grew weaker with each passing day. The glory of Erluin seemed to be gone forever. After my father died, my brother and I traversed a land of darkness and despair until you appeared before us, Sir Knight.”
Brendel felt as though he could hear his own heartbeat. He did not understand why the princess suddenly spoke to him about this. He looked at Princess Grifian; at that moment, the afternoon breeze stirred, the summer end wind blowing gently across the fields, lifting the silver strands of the half-elf maiden’s hair, causing the hem of her dress to sway. Grifian’s delicate hands rested on the guard of her longsword, standing tall in the wind, her expression inscrutable, as if she merely mentioned these matters in passing, leaving no hint of her thoughts.
But Brendel pursed his lips, understanding that the princess had invited him here with a letter, even avoiding the gaze of the royal faction and her maternal grandfather. There must be something she wanted to convey to him. He did not rush, but calmed himself to wait.
Sure enough, after a moment, Grifian continued, “But you can rest assured, I can at least guarantee you that in that period of tumult, the party at fault was not your grandfather, nor anyone in your family. Your grandfather bore that responsibility for certain reasons and chose to take refuge with your family. Although I do not know the details of what happened, there are secrets and truths within the royal family that have been passed down through generations. My father once told me that the Corvado family has always owed the Cardilos family a favor.”
She glanced at Brendel with her silver eyes. “Of course, maybe it’s now two…”
Brendel was nearly stunned.
But this did not hinder his thoughts from racing. The information revealed by the princess quickly assembled in his mind, gradually piecing together a rough outline. It meant that everything that happened in the Altania mountains, his grandfather, Sword Saint Darus, bore no fault, and could even be said to have shouldered the responsibility for someone or every faction. A thread began to clarify in his heart; it was no wonder that after his grandfather went into seclusion, the Temple of Fire did not pursue the matter further. It seemed they likely understood the insider information, and everything that followed might have merely been a demonstration by the Temple of Fire.
However, he still puzzled over for whom his grandfather had borne such responsibility. From the princess’s words, it appeared to be for the Erluin royal family, but that was somewhat illogical because there was no one from the Erluin royal family involved in that holy war, and it could not possibly be connected to the battle in the Altania mountains. But if it were someone else, it seemed there was no necessity for the Corvado royal family to owe a favor to the Cardilos family. Who or what force could compel his grandfather and the Corvado royal family to make such a significant sacrifice?
Brendel was acutely aware that if his grandfather had not left the center of power at the peak of his strength, the Erluin royal power would not have declined so swiftly; of course, this ancient kingdom might one day fall, but it should not have started from the height of summer and bloom.
Was it for the Temple of Fire?
He immediately shook his head; then the attitude of the Temple of Fire wouldn’t have turned out that way later.
“Princess, do you really know nothing at all about that time?”
“Sir Knight, by the time I was born, all of this had long since become history. What I know is only fragments that my father and history teacher told me. I am just as curious about the history of that era as you are.”
“No,” Grifian gently shook her head. “I am actually more unwilling than you. I do not understand why the late King Anson made such choices. If it were not for this, the kingdom would not be as weak and vulnerable as it is today.”
Brendel saw the light dancing in the princess’s eyes and felt a twinge of softness in his heart. Wasn’t this also his question? Wasn’t it also his wish?
May the black pines remain evergreen; may Erluin endure; may faith shine brightly as before; may the longsword be as sharp as ever—
The kingdom’s ancient ballads were the hopes cherished by everyone who loved this homeland.
But he stopped, suddenly remembering the true purpose of this princess. She had invited him here and left him alone to meet. Was it merely to tell him these things? She mentioned that the Corvado family always owed the Cardilos family a favor, but she did not have to share this with him. If she still yearned for the relationship between the Corvado and Cardilos families, then the royal family and Duke Toniger would never be as they are today. However, Brendel understood that this princess had never wholeheartedly believed in him.
She always cautiously maintained the relationship between him, her, and her brother, even though she had always understood that he was the grandson of Sword Saint Darus.
“Sir Knight, I remember you once wrote me a letter describing the future of this kingdom, the ideal Erluin shining with a belief different from today. It was once the hope I yearned for the most,” Grifian suddenly changed the topic, her voice soft. “Now that Count Rendener has perished, Anlek has long since died, and now there are no enemies left blocking your way in the Southlands. You can now tell me the story of what lies beyond that future you described, can’t you?”
Brendel was slightly taken aback.
He looked at this frail half-elf maiden, who stood there propped against her sword, like a sharp and straight blade herself, laying her cards on the table with him, as if casually asking if he had eaten lunch, just as simple.
Brendel fell silent for a moment.
“What do you think, Princess?” he countered.
Grifian did not speak, her heart was faintly uneasy. She used to think there were many trustworthy people around her, fighting toward that common belief and striving to completely change the appearance of this ancient kingdom. But she soon realized that these were merely her one-sided thoughts; this kingdom perhaps had many different futures, but the one she desired was simply just one of them.
She looked at Brendel, her silver eyes holding almost no emotional color, only wanting to see through this person.
“A while ago, my brother wrote me a letter saying he intends to betroth his sister to you.” Princess Grifian quietly stated.
Brendel felt as if he had taken a heavy blow.
In that instant, he understood the princess’s intentions.
Duke Toniger had now grown fully fledged. In his battles against Madara, against Rendener, the forces from Valhalla had showcased terrifying strength. Anlek and Rendener had been destroyed; it seemed the Southlands had no army left to stand against this rising Count. The people of Lantonrand were his best allies, while the armies of Vieiro were decayed and easily defeated. The Highland Knights of Karasu would only stand by him. Grifian looked around suddenly, realizing that there was no longer a reliable force to restrain Brendel.
She turned over in her bed at night, as if suddenly discovering another Anlek beside her.
Although Brendel had once promised to give her an ideal Erluin, what did she have to believe him? Perhaps that knight truly had such thoughts once, but people change, just like Teacher Livwz, just like Makarolo. When a person stands in a high position, their thoughts gradually drift away from their original intentions. Born into the royal family and having experienced the betrayal of the royal faction, she understood all this too well.
She now had only one way—to bind Brendel to her chariot.
She lowered her head, a faint blush staining her neck. “In order to repay the favor owed to the Corvado family, King Anson once wanted to marry Princess Gloriana to your father. However, at that time, Mr. Scott was already betrothed to your mother. After Emperor Anson, his elder brother King Obergo VI ascended to the throne, and this matter had since been put aside. However, there has always been a marriage agreement between the Corvado and Cardilos families, until the era of my father, King Obergo VII—every descendant of the Highland Knights had a Cardilego noblewoman betrothed to them, but do you know why you were not, Brendel?”
For the first time, Grifian called Brendel by name, softly saying, “Because your betrothed is me. Captain Bud has long known this.”
Brendel took a deep breath.
He felt his mind swirling, but his heart clearly knew that it was impossible to say he had no affections for the princess. But he liked the strong, independent, never-giving-up princess, not one who easily promised to marry him for a favor or to secure him in her chariot. What did she think of him? What did she think of Romaine?
He fixed his gaze on the princess’s silver eyes as if trying to discern something from them.
But in the end, he was disappointed.
“I am not Anlek, Your Highness.”
Grifian’s face flushed, as if greatly insulted; she clenched her fists, looking up at him with a hint of anger: “Sir Knight, I never thought that way.”
“But that is exactly what you did. You already knew there was a marriage agreement between us, so why only now do you speak of it? Because you understand that until today, this marriage agreement only holds value; before that, it was merely a dispensable verbal agreement, right?” Brendel replied coldly, feeling as though his beliefs were crumbling. “You have disappointed me too much, Your Highness. You should understand that all I have done for you was not out of such shallow intentions.”
He drew a deep breath, speaking nonsensically, “Fine, I admit I once had affections for you, but I cherished the idea of a princess who shared the same ideals and beliefs as I do, not one who would immediately promise to marry me just to repay a favor. Do you remember what I described in the letter to you about that ideal kingdom? Your actions now are tarnishing it.”
Princess Grifian’s face turned pale, and she nearly swayed, looking at Brendel in disbelief.
“But how noble you sound!” Tears instantly brimmed in the half-elf maiden’s eyes, and she gripped her fists, almost crying out, “But do you remember what you did to me in Ampere Seale, Sir Knight!”
Brendel felt as if a sword had pierced through his heart.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
He finally understood why Princess Grifian had trusted him so deeply before Ampere Seale, yet afterward she had cautiously erected a solid wall. He had always thought it was because she was wary of him, fearing he would grow powerful and threaten Erluin’s future royal power. But at this moment, he finally realized how profound a shadow his impulsive actions had cast in the heart of this seventeen-year-old girl.
Brendel nearly slapped himself in frustration for his past actions; he stood there, his face blushing like a burning iron.
“I’m sorry…”
“Your Highness.”
“I’m sorry.”
For a moment, he seemed to have only that single phrase to express his feelings.
Princess Grifian bit her lip as she looked at him, tears still on her face. She was so angry that she was practically trembling, yet she ultimately calmed down. The princess wiped her tear-stained face, turned her head away as if speaking about something unrelated: “…Then, can I still trust you, Sir Knight?”
Brendel also regained his composure.
The two stood in the courtyard, with a gentle breeze brushing over the clouds, and only the soft chirping of insects remained in the countryside. In Brendel’s gaze, several deer were leaping through the trees in the direction of the Great Elk Forest.
A moment of silence passed.
He finally nodded.
“You previously mentioned that everything you did for Erluin was not for such shallow purposes, and you are still moving towards that ideal, right, Sir Knight?” Princess Grifian gazed in the direction of the forest, her face flushing, her voice soft.
Brendel nodded.
Princess Grifian opened her mouth, as if this affirmative answer left her breathless. “I am sorry; I wronged you, Sir Knight.”
Brendel awkwardly replied, “I should be the one apologizing, Your Highness.”
Grifian turned her head and happened to see the legendary Count displaying such an awkward expression, and she couldn’t help but giggle. In that moment, the smile on her face was reminiscent of the day she sat by the window in the warm, bright afternoon sun, listening to Overwell tell the story of that young knight. In that tale, that banner was so splendid, as if it had returned to the ancient kingdom.
“Mr. Brendel, do you still remember the story I told you about your grandfather earlier?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you really want to know the truth?”
Brendel was slightly taken aback, looking in confusion at the princess. But Grifian shook her head. “You don’t need to look at me like that, Sir Knight; I am not deceiving you. However, I know that some who were related to what happened in the Altania mountains battle are still alive to this day.”
“Who?” Brendel’s heart stirred, as if grasping a ray of hope in the darkness.
“The Silver Queen, the Wind Spirit King, and His Holiness the Pope of Fanzan.”
