Chapter 868: Act 46 – Two Letters XI
Freya’s eyes were still a bit red. She had visited the grave of Aunt Sil and Uncle, which was located in a clearing in the forest, marked simply with wooden tombstones. Most of the graves didn’t have actual owners; they existed to comfort the souls lost in the war. Meanwhile, on the square, the patrolling cavalry squatted properly, being looked after by the young men of Buche; however, no one was making things difficult for them, and even the injured received care.
Brendel and Marden stood together, talking, and the elder arrived upon hearing the news, unexpectedly encountering him and Freya. This veteran of the November War, the old chief of security from Buche, was evidently very pleased with the growth of Brendel and Freya, especially considering their current identities and standings, which gave him hope for the people of Buche. It cannot be denied that this old soldier had some understanding of the nature of Erluin’s nobility; changing the current situation of the Buche people wasn’t a challenge for Freya today. She didn’t even need Brendel to use his status as the Earl of Toniger; even in her position as the Knight Captain of the royal knights, Count Nakin would not want to offend her over a patch of forest.
This sounds somewhat tragic; for the people of Buche, it was a matter of life and death, but for Count Nakin, it was merely a matter of face. As a noble, he naturally would not like to have a group of refugees pushing them around, but if this group of refugees had a close aide to a princess backing them, it would certainly be different. There was no need for Freya to even remind him personally; this Valkyrie, whose reputation was rising sharply today, only needed to reveal her Buche heritage, and Count Nakin would likely withdraw his proposal from the nobility council automatically.
News of the cavalry fighting with the Buche people quickly spread.
This was not a small matter; the Buche people were well aware of what it represented regarding the nobles in the city of Bruglas. Many came, anxious and worried, unsure of what had actually happened, wondering if the nobility council had made a conclusion to expel them. A crowd quickly gathered, spreading various rumors, most people were overtaken by a general sense of sorrow and anger, with no one speaking up or shouting, creating a very oppressive atmosphere, as no one knew what to do next. Only in silence did they build up their resentment as the patrolling cavalry watched the scene in fear, finally understanding the trouble they had gotten into.
Fortunately, Freya personally stepped forward to mediate—just as Brendel had said, after all, she was the daughter of Buche, and had once led the refugees of Ridenburg alongside Brendel to break out of a siege. Many recognized her, and when they learned that the daughter of Buche had achieved a prominent position today—though still somewhat skeptical—they at least felt a little reassured and no longer appeared so restless.
Brendel watched this scene and felt a slight sense of relief. Historically, during the Frost Descent Month of the Year of the Swallow, the conflict between the nobility of Bruglas and the refugees had completely escalated over three years. When the nobles began to expel the refugees, the Buche people, unable to endure, erupted overnight, leading to riots that swept across the Bruglas region, with many dying in the ensuing calamity. Afterward, the Buche people’s situation deteriorated further under the dual oppression of the locals and the nobility. Golan-Elsen was gravely weakened as a result, but an even graver disaster was the cold suspicion that rooted itself in the region, causing the kingdom to lose all prestige there in the future.
Yet today, it seemed this disaster need not be repeated—
However, when Freya returned to Brendel’s side, she looked somewhat downcast. “Brendel, this is a bit different from what I imagined,” she said softly.
“Do you remember what I told you? One day, you could wield your power to protect Buche, allowing the Buche people to dominate their own fate, no longer subject to the nobles’ manipulation.” Brendel seemed to understand her thoughts and consoled her, “Today you achieved that; everything proves that your efforts were not in vain. You set a goal for yourself and ultimately fulfilled your promise.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“But I can’t help but think, what if I didn’t have my current position? What would it all be like? Brendel, how I wish the Buche people could master their own destiny, but— the power that decides everyone’s fate has merely shifted from the nobility to my hands. They might live peacefully from now on, but they themselves don’t even realize this. If one day I decide to push them into the fire pit, everything will repeat itself.” Freya replied faintly.
“My child, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Marden answered.
“I know, but…”
The elder seemed to understand what Freya was trying to express and interrupted, “This is the rule of the nobility; once you’re in it, you must adhere to it. You’ve done well enough, my child.”
Freya pressed her lips tightly together, wanting to retort but unsure how to voice it. She always felt something was wrong, but didn’t know where the problem lay. Uncle Marden didn’t seem to be wrong, yet she felt very stifled, as if after putting in all the effort, the result was not what she wanted; but she had a vague feeling that if there was someone who could answer her doubts, that person would definitely be Brendel.
Just like every time she felt confused, she still looked towards Brendel first.
“Marden’s right, Freya,” Brendel replied calmly, as if the question had never been an issue for him, “Under the rules of our time, this is indeed the best approach.”
Brendel’s words were like a flame illuminating the darkness and gloom within Freya. She suddenly reacted, looked up at him, and asked, “Brendel, do you mean that the rules—can be changed?”
Brendel smiled slightly at her, “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing all along? You, me, Princess, and everyone are searching for and moving towards a direction.”
Freya slightly opened her mouth.
Marden seemed to pick up a hint of something and couldn’t help but look at this young man he had only briefly interacted with during the Black Rose War. He felt he understood more about him each time but was always met with surprises.
Brendel whispered, “So Freya, you must not belittle yourself. You should know that what you are doing is far more glorious and honorable than you imagine. Your background and your talent are like a grain of sand in the face of ideals and beliefs—it’s not worth mentioning. Those who mock and ridicule you do not understand what you are thinking because they cannot imagine the ancient glory of Erluin—this is the greatness of ordinary people, just like the oath laid down by the previous monarch before his sword.”
“Young man,” Marden finally spoke up after a long pause, “Do you really believe that?”
Brendel nodded, “I am absolutely certain because I know that many have given their all for this, and even now many continue to break through challenges for this belief and ideal. I cannot say whether it will definitely succeed or fail, but I at least understand that I will not let it come to a halt halfway.”
He turned back to Freya and said, “Freya, do you remember what you once said? You vowed to fight for the Buche people’s independent destiny, so that everyone who pursues happiness and beauty could one day be free from manipulation. Do you still remember what I said to you that day?”
“I remember,” Freya nodded vigorously, as if the clouds that troubled her heart were merely a thin veil that, with a gentle blow, dissipated into smoke. She replied as if swearing, “Brendel, I understand now. I will continue to persevere, even if I must shed blood one day, I will never regret it. Brendel, do you believe in me? I will definitely accomplish it.”
“You have done it, silly girl.” Brendel heard Freya say that she would never give up even if she had to shed blood. In the history of Erluin, this Valkyrie indeed had shed the last drop of blood for this ancient kingdom.
The ancient glory of Erluin was a vision described in legends, and Marden dared not imagine it. However, for the young man’s passionate blood and impulsiveness, he would not easily criticize. After all, as long as the tomorrow of the Buche people could be better than today, he would be satisfied. He had seen too many illusory matters and had grown old, no longer easily believing in so-called beautiful visions, which he considered mere delusions. But he at least understood that Freya was a good girl and would not push the Buche people into the fire pit, and that was enough.
The Buche people, having weathered war and pain, merely longed to restore their past peaceful lives.
The crowd gradually dispersed, but the patrolling cavalry did not dare to act rashly. After a long while, these young men finally figured out the identities of the two in front of them—thus they became even more wary of acting recklessly, each inwardly lamenting their misfortune. Bruglas had just experienced a war, where Earl Toniger, Lantonrand, and the joint army of Vieiro had rescued them from a dire situation; however, in this war, the prestige of Count Toniger and the Valkyrie beside the princess had risen to a peak. Those who were related to both the military and the nobility would certainly have heard of these two names, and upon learning that both hailed from Buche, everyone felt as if they had kicked into an iron board.
They didn’t have time to sigh for the shortsighted Count Nakin because compared to him, one could say ignorance is no crime, while they had directly collided in front of those two. If this lord would have to deal with them, no one would dare to stand up for them.
The patrolling cavalry were anxious and uneasy, but little did they know that Brendel and Freya had already forgotten about them. After all, Brendel wasn’t that petty, and he understood the customs of Golan-Elsen and even Karasu. It was quite common for spirited young people to brawl or duel, and both sides were somewhat decent. Although there were injuries, for the most part, no one was trying to kill the other, so he had no intention of reprimanding them. As for the patrolling cavalry coming to look for extra earnings, this was simply the prevailing atmosphere, and it was impossible to stop such things. He believed that with this lesson and their backgrounds in play, the other party would likely not make such mistakes again in the future. There was no need to offend someone for no reason; after all, the Buche people had to continue living here, and these young patrolling cavalry were mostly descendants of local gentry; if real enmity were developed, he and Freya could not always be there to look after them.
Freya, however, was not in the mood for such matters at all. After finally returning to her hometown, she saw familiar faces, especially the likes of Little Finnis and the past militia members, who crowded around her demanding that she share her experiences over the past days, telling stories of her and “Earl Toniger.” But she and Brendel had so many stories to tell, Freya blushed red, hesitating to say anything clearly, completely forgetting about the patrolling cavalry.
Captain Eugen of the patrolling cavalry waited anxiously for a while, yet no one came to announce their execution or pardon. At first, he thought it was that lord intending to leave them hanging here, but after a while, he felt it was probably not the case. He finally seized an opportunity, and a young militiaman he had previously disarmed, who was somewhat polite towards him regarding swordplay, came to ask about how Brendel would deal with them. It was only then that Brendel remembered this group of people waiting for him to deal with them.
When Eugen showed up before him, somewhat fearful and anxious, Brendel couldn’t help but find it amusing. He knew these guys well, having witnessed their arrogance both in his previous life as a player and later in Ridenburg. The patrolling cavalry had once been part of the kingdom’s professional army responsible for security and defense in localities; however, since the establishment of the security forces, they had become a place for nobles to place confidants and arrange paths for their offspring. The inevitable nobility of the army led to laxity and corruption in discipline. After the Year of Blossoms and Summer Leaves, patrolling cavalry in many cities had become largely redundant, and in border cities like Bruglas, they were still somewhat better off, maintaining basic combat effectiveness, while in those deeper inland cities, they had practically become a nest of parasites.
In fact, he had forgotten about these guys earlier, subconsciously thinking they had already fled. Yet he forgot that in front of this influential lord, even the patrolling cavalry wouldn’t have the guts to leave without asking.
Eugen was a bit surprised when he first saw Brendel, probably not expecting this legendary lord to be so young. However, he quickly recalled some other rumors about this Earl Toniger—such as being the grandson of Swordmaster Darus, and some stories about him and the princess—and he became more at ease. Moreover, it was often said that this lord was a rare young genius in Erluin; it was only fitting that he would look like this to earn that title. He hurriedly cleared his throat, adjusted his posture, bowed his head, and said, “Earl, about today’s incident… it was actually a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” Brendel thought about how this guy would apologize and was not surprised to hear such a dull old script with no creativity. He couldn’t help but yawn and asked, “What misunderstanding?”
“It’s like this, my lord,” Eugen quickly continued, “… everyone thought we were here to help Count Nakin drive them away, which is completely rumor; not to mention the idea of driving everyone out of the forest is just a rumor in itself, even if it were true, it is not within our responsibilities. In fact, my lord, we are here for other official business.”
“Other official business?”
“My lord, earlier we received reports that a group of vicious criminals had appeared in Bruglas. These guys left the city around evening, and later our informants found them lurking nearby, which is why I pursued them here.”
“I’ll take a guess, then you ran into Little Finnis and the others and got into a fight along the way, right?”
Eugen awkwardly nodded. He could certainly shift all the blame, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fool this young lord, so he might as well tell the truth to avoid displeasing him. Brendel nodded, roughly understanding the sequence of events. It seemed that these people had searched their way over and then encountered Little Finnis and his group, and given their previous enmity, the patrolling cavalry had taken the opportunity to take revenge. This was a reasonable explanation; Brendel knew that the so-called mission didn’t mean much to these noble heirs, and as for capturing the so-called vicious criminals, it would count as an achievement if they succeeded but wouldn’t matter if they didn’t—after all, they didn’t lack that kind of so-called merit.
However, he was a bit curious about what kind of vicious criminals those so-called perpetrators were because, theoretically, there should be quite a number of fugitives in Bruglas, and to attract the attention of these patrolling cavalry, two conditions needed to be met—first, they must not be locals; local outlaws were mostly involved with the thieves’ guild or some other gray area organizations that generally had ties to the local nobility, so the patrolling cavalry wouldn’t generally bother their own people, although even Brendel wouldn’t say why the patrolling cavalry had become their own people was a part of the scenery of this era of Erluin. Secondly, they had to number sufficiently; one or two lawbreakers wouldn’t catch the patrolling cavalry’s eye, not because they didn’t want to care, but because given their efficiency, they would probably not have noticed their presence.
Meanwhile, the situation clearly indicated that a large group of lawless individuals had infiltrated the city, enough to even alarm the patrolling cavalry, and Brendel couldn’t help but feel it bore the hallmarks of cultist activity.
But when he asked about this matter, Eugen hadn’t provided a clear explanation when Little Finnis, standing nearby, seemed to have heard something. He dashed over and said, “Brother Brendel, I think I know about these guys.”
“You know?”
Brendel looked at him with curiosity.
