Chapter 929: Act 102 – The Mark of Natural Affinity I
The demon-slaying spear actually exploded.
The explosion created a massive wave of positive energy, spreading through the valley like a supernova. This wave acted like a large-scale healing spell; although it caused no damage, it stunned everyone present. Mistral, suspended in mid-air, paused for a moment before realizing what had happened. She erupted into shrill laughter, saying, “Ha ha, you bunch of damned idiots, what can you rely on now? Enjoy the taste of despair!”
Accompanied by her high-pitched laughter, the dragon spread its wings and dove down from the sky. Brendel only heard a loud boom overhead, causing his scalp to tingle. He didn’t even have time to look up at Mistral’s position—only a moment’s reaction time—had to judge the direction of her dive by sound. His past experience made his senses incredibly sharp at that moment; he was not unfamiliar with combating dragons.
It was just that it wasn’t in this world.
Brendel, carrying Romaine and holding the Sprite and QiYala, suddenly lunged forward. The sonic boom from the dive swept across the valley with a sharp sound, like a blade slicing through the air. This blade barely missed him, and at that moment, Mistral’s claws swept through the space as well, leaving a brilliant golden flame trailing in the air.
Brendel rolled on the ground and dove into the nearby thicket.
The Sprite and QiYala were already in shock, mouths agape, possibly thinking they were already dead. It was only when Brendel got up from the ground and pulled both of them to continue running deeper into the forest that the two little girls screamed.
“Ah——!”
“How did you dodge that!?”
“Intuition.” Brendel grinned as he replied.
In fact, not only the two little girls, but even Mistral herself couldn’t believe that her foolproof dive had missed. She soared into the air with a series of manic laughs, but when she looked back at her handiwork, she found the valley empty. The black dragon’s laughter abruptly ceased, and if one could see her expression at that moment, it would surely be terrifying. The mother black dragon roared and once again turned in the air, continuing to dive between the hills.
The pressure descended from above again. Brendel sensed that Mistral was being much more cautious this time; she was closely locking onto his escape route, and it was impossible for her to gain the upper hand as before.
“Brendel, she’s coming again!” Romaine shouted from his shoulder, though there was little fear in his tone—only excitement and fun. Even Brendel thought this guy was too carefree. The current situation was rather thrilling for him; he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Just one wrong decision, and everyone would perish in the dragon’s belly.
But Merchant Miss seemed to have a blind faith in him, completely unconcerned that he might fail.
“She’s coming!”
Accompanied by her scream, the howl from the black dragon rushed close behind. Because of her speed, the sound began to misalign; Mistral’s diving speed had surpassed the speed of sound in the air for the first time. The dragon’s expansive wings cut through an invisible barrier, and the densely compressed airflow in front formed into a white cloud, which she soon left trailing behind.
Brendel could practically feel a pin-prick sensation in his back. He reached into his cloak; in just a moment, Mistral flew past, the fiery cloud falling upon the forest, igniting a blaze. She fully believed she had caught Brendel, but as she ascended again, she looked down to see nothing but emptiness in her claws.
“This is impossible!”
A roar echoed across the hills for dozens of miles, and almost everyone in the woods clearly heard the furious roar of the dragon in the air.
Nemeses darted through the jungle with the embassy, and when she heard the roar, she suddenly stopped, turning back to look at the silver dragon lady Mistral, who was also lifting her head to observe in that direction. Mistral’s expression was poor, but her silver eyes sparkled with a playful glint. Mistral was notorious for her volatile temper among the dragons, but that did not mean she was a fool; many within the dragon kin could toy with her, but outside the dragonkin, this was the first time she had encountered someone like this.
“Is Brendel alright?” Nemeses suddenly asked.
Mistral shook her head, then nodded, replying softly, “Maybe not so good, but not bad either; Alorze’s eyesight is indeed sharp.”
“Do you know the lord, Lady Mistral?” Eynid asked in surprise—given how loud the transformation of the silver dragon was, it couldn’t have gone unnoticed by others. Almost everyone in the embassy was now aware of her true identity. They were astonished; although rumors had circulated about the Earl of Toniger’s connection to the dragons, that had only referred to a young dragon, and the one present now was clearly an adult dragon.
Mistral smiled weakly at these curious humans. “I can only say I’ve heard of him.”
“Is the Earl famous, big sister?” Golan-Elsen’s little daughter asked in a childlike voice.
Almost everyone who heard this innocent question couldn’t help but chuckle.
Brendel was indeed famous—
Even if he hadn’t been before, after this mission, he would certainly be considered ‘notorious.’ Whether for the Cruz Empire or the Erluin nobility, it was so. If it weren’t for the sudden outbreak of war, he would have almost been the public enemy of all nobles south of Anzeruta in the empire. In the court and among the public, he had offended a heap of powerful ministers led by Duke Parut; it was even said that Her Majesty the Queen had some heated words for him. The empire’s critiques were akin to a catastrophe for the Erluin nobility; before the mission began, no one would have imagined that someone in this world could stir up so much trouble.
In fact, within the borders of Erluin, according to Sir Overwell himself, Makarolo was already regretting quite a bit, thinking that letting Brendel become the leader of the embassy to the Cruz Empire was the most foolish decision he had ever made.
The answer to this question seemed apparent, but everyone—even the Cruz nobility—still focused their attention on Mistral. After all, no one would be uninterested in the opinions of a true dragon, especially regarding humans.
The silver dragon lady smiled slightly, ruffling Judy’s hair. She coughed lightly and answered, “He is indeed quite famous.”
Everyone fell silent for a moment. The esteem of human society was trivial in the eyes of the golden races, representing an almost eternal gaze; power and vanity rotted under this gaze. Yet Mistral offered an affirmative answer, leaving everyone to think she was just flattering a child—though they did not know whether dragons also flattered human children.
Mistral continued, “I’ve heard some rumors about him; he indeed has ties with us. I know this is rare among you humans. But more than that, I know he has met William. He possesses an excellent reputation among those men; both Turiman and William think highly of him.”
“Turiman and William!” Oni nearly jumped up: “You mean that silver storm, William of Bud?”
“Precisely that young man,” Mistral replied. “Oh, he should be considered no longer young; though Buds are immortal, they will eventually grow old.”
Everyone present couldn’t help but feel a chill at this statement. Although Turiman belonged to Erluin, his legend transcended the borders of Erluin itself. People were more familiar with him by another name—master of the Mithril Fortress. Not to mention William, whose name had become almost divine over the past millennium, with countless legends surrounding him in Vaunte. The Crusians in the forest couldn’t help but change expression; they had previously known only that their opponent was a bumpkin from Erluin, but now they realized he actually had ties to the Buds.
And not ordinary ties.
Though they had already known Brendel had Bud support, everyone naturally assumed it was Bud’s support for Erluin, for a simple reason—because of the Celestial Spear. But no one would have guessed that this support was actually a one-sided admiration for Brendel— they could hear it in Mistral’s tone, filled with appreciation; a silver dragon lady speaking well of that earl. What did that imply?
For a moment, the Cruz people suddenly felt reassured; no wonder that earl was so formidable, no wonder he dared to challenge the empire with such confidence; it turned out he had the Buds behind him.
Everything made sense.
Sir Cooper exchanged glances with Earl Orkans beside him, and they both seemed to understand the same implication—that they seemed to have done something foolish beyond measure.
But Mistral wasn’t finished. She smiled, “You probably think your earl is backed by the Buds?”
She shook her head: “You’re wrong. He considers the Buds friends and will never easily owe a favor to them. His true ally is the Circle of the World. You may not know how esteemed your earl is among Druids; the Great Druid of the Ring of Skies cannot measure up to his current status.”
A silence fell over the forest.
Druids.
If the Buds were considered legends in Vaunte, then the Druids were a group that existed in the realm of elusive stories. Everyone knew they existed, residing on the borders of the Black Forest; these wilderness folk guarded the boundaries of the civilized world. No one knew their actual strength; the entire Erlandta was just a part of the Circle of the World, a realm still watched over by a sage, the homeland of earth and mountains, nature and forests. Almost all humans knew that Erlandta rarely meddled in mortal affairs; only the realm of the Wild Elves participated in holy wars, and the truly high-end powers had not appeared in this world alongside the Druids for nearly a thousand years.
And that was the Circle of the World.
Some even believed they had become the People of Silver—after the Buds, after the Silver Elves, the last silver lineage born since the age of mortals in the world of Vaunte.
They were indeed allies of that earl!
Brendel’s identity had sparked endless speculations since he became famous, both within the empire and Erluin. Some speculated he was an air elf because he mastered the Wind Archers and the White Lion guard, prominently displaying their influence. Others conjectured he was a sanctuary lord, having reportedly witnessed him wielding heavenly arms, or even a dragon, as was self-evident. There were even rumors connecting him to the Buds, especially since he possessed the Celestial Spear and numerous gargoyles.
But no one would have thought, the ally of Brendel was the Druid!
Mistral spoke clearly, indicating the Druid’s association with him—an ally, and it seemed that the status of that Earl of Toniger was even higher.
Everyone momentarily felt as if their minds were foggy.
The corpulent Eflaim even slapped his face hard to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.
Among everyone, only Brendel’s original subordinates felt unfazed; Yuta even frowned, feeling that the silver dragon was clearly exposing her lord’s secrets. She had wanted to step up and stop her several times— if not for Medisa holding her back. The Silver Elf Princess slowly shook her head at her, gazing intently in that direction, her own curiosity evident, but her perspective differed from Yuta’s.
She realized strangely that this silver dragon lady was indeed boasting about her lord. She did not understand why she would do something like that, but she at least recognized that her lord’s status in both the Buds and the Circle of the World was not as exalted as Mistral vehemently portrayed.
Moreover, the glints of mischief fleeting in the silver dragon’s eyes didn’t escape her notice.
Under Mistral’s words, she could distinctly feel that both the Cruz nobility and others in the embassy were undergoing a subtle change in their attitudes toward their lord. They were no longer just a temporary assembly; their reliance on their lord had strengthened, generating newfound confidence. Even Medisa was sure that these people, who had previously trusted Brendel only temporarily, had now solidified their loyalty, making it likely that after this war, most of them would remember Brendel’s kindness to them.
Humans are such curious creatures, their instincts drawn towards benefit.
But the question was, why would a dragon inexplicably speak well of her lord?
Medisa gazed curiously at Mistral; she understood well how proud this race was, looking down upon humans with disdain.
She frowned and suddenly turned to Charles beside her, asking, “Did our lord notify us to assist him?”
Charles shook his head gently.
…
At this moment, Brendel truly didn’t need assistance.
In fact, he had led Mistral on a chase for at least a dozen miles, with one running through the jungle and the other in pursuit from the sky. During this time, the black dragon had roared and dove multiple times, but the issue was that each time she missed. She was nearly driven mad, still having no clue what trick he had played to evade her attacks. Now she was increasingly convinced that her foe must have some strange magical artifact to avoid her pursuit.
Mistral had actually guessed most of it right; every time she dived close to Brendel, she felt a slight distortion in time, and then he would inexplicably run a step faster, causing her to miss. No matter how she calculated the lead or what spells she used, it ultimately proved futile.
As for her only finding that annoying human seemingly starting to grow weaker.
But Brendel wasn’t actually growing weaker—
He was simply losing levels.
He was certainly using the Flowing Pointer to evade Mistral’s pursuit; each time the black dragon dove near him, he would activate the Flowing Pointer for a moment, allowing himself to speed up a step or change direction, using tenfold acceleration. No matter how fearsome the black dragon was, she couldn’t catch him. But the only issue arising from this was the loss of experience; he had already used the Flowing Pointer sparingly, but as time passed, he still inevitably lost levels.
This was level one.
It would only get faster from here.
He could foresee that if he kept running at this speed, by the time he reached the next ten miles, he would lose another level and a half; and by the evening, without considering whether his physical stamina could support him, even the Frostborn Guardian’s level would likely be lost.
But Brendel wasn’t anxious; he wasn’t familiar with the empire, nor had he come to Anzeruta, but he had indeed heard of some places nearby. The Silver Surge Valley had two smaller dungeons in the game; these wouldn’t aid his escape, but he knew there was a special entrance leading to Jotungrund between the two dungeons. He believed he could hide from that damn black dragon’s pursuit there.
If he hadn’t miscalculated, that place should still be half an hour away, meaning he would have to lose two or three levels.
Thinking of this made Brendel quite displeased.
At that moment, QiYala in his grasp was even more distressed; the cold wind was nearly freezing her face, yet she couldn’t muster any complaints. After all, there was a dragon chasing behind them; if she stayed behind as a meal, the detestable guy holding her would definitely not mind. To prevent freezing, the little lady had to make conversation:
“Wh-why did the demon slaying spear explode earlier?” she stammered.
