Chapter 931: Act 104 – Nature’s Affinity Emblem III
The dual pressure weighed heavily on Brendel, nearly rendering him immobile, yet his mind worked tirelessly to find a possibility for escape.
They were indeed looking for the Sword of Earth—
He thought to himself. However, it was merely a damaged weapon, and although it was praised as the only important symbol of the Hallowed Temple of Earth among the three legendary artifacts, that was a matter from nearly a thousand years ago. During this millennium, the decline of the Hallowed Temple of Earth was not due to the successive loss of the three artifacts, but because they had violated the sacred covenant. Given that, even if the Sword of Earth, Harangea, were to return to the Hallowed Temple, it would be of no consequence.
Moreover, the dragon race did not worship Gaia; they were children of the sky. Brendel found it utterly implausible that these three dragons, expelled underground, would suddenly become adherents of the Hallowed Temple of Earth.
Yet, if that were the case, why had they personally come to seek the Sword of Earth, even to the extent of violating the dragon race’s vows to abandon Jotungrund?
Ultimately, was this sword the reason the Jotungrund people initiated war?
What Brendel wanted to ascertain now was just how important the Sword of Earth was to these dragons, whether it could serve as leverage against them. After all, the Sword of Earth still resided in his dimensional pocket, and while it was difficult for the pocket itself to vanish into the void of magic if he were to die, the contents inside might not be preserved. If he were to lose even one or two items, particularly the Sword of Earth, within the spatial vortex, it would surely be unacceptable to the dragons.
The critical question was whether they dared to gamble. If the Sword of Earth was not that significant to them, they might not care about such a risk.
However, Brendel assessed that this possibility was very slim.
“Should I address you as Gwenethlyn or Fusiya, esteemed dragon lady?” he pondered these thoughts in his mind but displayed not a hint of concern on his face, even maintaining a calm demeanor as he queried.
“You seem quite knowledgeable. Fusiya and I are indeed related, but I am not her,” the Dragon Queen responded frankly, squinting her eyes as she spoke.
A descendant of Fusiya?
Brendel was momentarily taken aback, thinking that this assumption might hold some truth. After all, the wicked dragon Fusiya had been sealed away a thousand years ago; it was impossible for her to have slipped out unnoticed by the dragon race, especially since the Bud people had been involved in the sealing. These artisans and wizards, who claimed to interfere little with the affairs of mortals, had established various observation points throughout the world to monitor the realm of mortals.
He was unaware of the exact reasons behind Fusiya’s seal, thus he could not ascertain Gwenethlyn’s stance, but that was of no concern to him. After a moment’s consideration, he continued:
“What you seek, according to mortals and dwarves— is called Harangea, or the Sword of Earth; it indeed rests with me. However, the Sword of Earth has been permanently damaged for a thousand years, and while it is revered as a symbol of the Hallowed Temple of Earth, it seems this is not its original purpose but merely a meaning that later generations have awkwardly attached to it. In this world, akin to many swords claimed to be holy, I think it scarcely merits your presence, Dragon Queen…”
“You talk too much, kid,” Modest interrupted impatiently. “Are you still stalling for time? Do you think you have a chance to turn this around?”
“No, just mere curiosity of mortals,” Brendel was startled and quickly clarified.
“A boring curiosity,” Modest replied.
Brendel turned his gaze towards Gwenethlyn; what mattered to him was not the answer to the question but her attitude. Regardless of whether she answered him, as long as she made a stance, that would suffice.
Gwenethlyn seemed unaffected by his considerations, as if she had all the time in the world and did not mind Brendel prolonging the conversation. Thus she coldly replied, “Artifacts cannot be so easily destroyed. They are symbols of Tiamat, each artifact corresponds to the fundamental laws of this world. Their emergence signifies the upheaval of the world and a reassessment of order, and it is mortal fate that ultimately changes amidst these upheavals.”
“Though the Sword of Earth is damaged, the laws it represents still exist. It must complete its mission through your hands,” the Dragon Queen said with the corners of her mouth slightly lifting, almost in silent sarcasm, “Unless Tiamat wishes to change this world, the artifacts will never easily reveal themselves; they are the keys to change the future, yet you deem it worthless junk.”
Brendel’s heart raced.
This idea was not entirely foreign to him; among players in another world, this notion had currency. In “Amber Sword,” artifacts were exceedingly difficult to destroy. To destroy an artifact typically required fulfilling various conditions, while the condition to destroy the Sword of Earth was to cast it into the original lake deep within the earth—yet that lake was not an ordinary one; it was a sea of magma at the earth’s core, a place only spoken of but never seen.
So, the Sword of Earth was forever damaged, not destroyed. This then raised a question.
Could a damaged Sword of Earth bring about the so-called artifact quests like other artifacts?
According to the game’s terminology, artifact quests were a kind of prematurely awarded task—wherein the artifact was the ultimate reward of the quest, granting access to it earlier. Due to the unique nature of artifacts (sub-artifacts did not possess this characteristic), the accompanying quests were often exceptionally challenging and broad in scope, frequently leading to permanent changes in the history of a region or even a nation. Like the twenty-four Wind Rings, or gathering the shards of the Flame Blade, these would undoubtedly create seismic shifts within the power dynamics of Saint Ausoor or the Cruz Empire.
But the problem was that the Sword of Earth was a fragmented artifact. Its inherent power was at best comparable to mid-tier imaginative weapons; it could not even rival most ancient level equipment—such as the powerful Demon Destroyer Gun.
Thus, if the Sword of Earth were also to impose arduous task challenges on its wielder, this design, while realistic, seemed quite unreasonable.
Brendel had not been considering the world’s problems from a gaming perspective in a long time. But when Gwenethlyn uttered this line, the instinct for survival stirred in him, and he immediately thought of this possibility: could everything happening now be the task chain of the Sword of Earth? No, impossible. He shook his head; the ramifications were too vast. The invasion of Cruz by Jotungrund—this degree of historical alteration could only result from chapter transitions in the game, like moving from the legend of the stag and the empire to the era of war and chaos, and then the first discovery of the War Tablet, which brought the People of Silver back to the mortal world, heralding the arrival of the Second Era.
Everything happening now bore strong signs of such a pattern.
If there were to be a catalyst for all this, Brendel felt it ought to be the Celestial Halberd, not the Sword of Earth.
He pondered for a good while, then made a decision. Slowly, he raised his hand, revealing a dark line in his palm—at that moment, both Gwenethlyn and Modest could clearly see it. “The dimensional pocket!” Gwenethlyn seemed surprised, clearly not expecting Brendel to possess such an item; it was not something common in “Amber Sword” since dimensional pockets and bags were typical gear among players. The former was even sold in the game store—game companies couldn’t possibly have players carting around overburdened with supplies.
However, in the storyline, dimensional pockets were still quite rare; just think of its original owner—a high-ranking cleric of the Temple of Fire and a core member of the Everything Returns Society—to have one was self-evident.
Dimensional pockets were not uncommon among the dragon race, but what surprised the Dragon Queen was that a mere baron from a border kingdom would possess such an item.
“No wonder,” Modest exclaimed sharply. “Just yesterday, I distinctly sensed the aura of the Sword of Earth with Marlaxias, but it vanished in an instant. It must have been your doing!”
Yet Gwenethlyn interrupted her, looking at Brendel with some surprise: “You sensed Marlaxias and Modest tracking the Sword of Earth; how far were they from you at that time?”
Modest responded quickly: “No, that’s not right. He was not too close to us, or Marlaxias and I wouldn’t have lost track. Even if he put the Sword of Earth in the dimensional pocket, we could still trace him from the Sword of Earth’s aura before it disappeared. He must have a considerable distance from us when he realized.”
“How interesting,” the black dragon mother gazed intensively at Brendel. “Little worm, it seems you still have many secrets.”
Gwenethlyn frowned and asked a single question: “Are you that human’s descendant?”
Brendel was momentarily stunned, instinctively realizing whom she was inquiring about. He looked up, disbelief written on his face as he regarded this legendary Dragon Queen.
“What!” Modest exclaimed in astonishment. “He’s related to that fellow?”
“I do not understand what you are saying, milady,” Brendel stated solemnly.
At this point, he knew he could no longer escape, so he placed QiYala and the sprite down. The latter two, whether from fright or cold, shivered continuously, while the Merchant Miss, who had jumped down from his shoulder, appeared exceptionally lively. She glanced at Gwenethlyn with a mix of fear and caution, curiosity etched on her face as she looked at Modest behind her.
Soon, she noticed that the eyes of the two dragons of were no longer on Brendel but had shifted to her.
In that moment, even the usually carefree Merchant Miss couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. She quickly darted behind Brendel.
Modest and Gwenethlyn exchanged glances with Romaine, who then spoke again: “You know who I’m referring to, human—your grandfather. You humans call him Sword Saint Darus while we refer to him as the Dragon of Harasgar. With that, you should comprehend.”
Although Brendel had anticipated this, his heart nevertheless raced. Harasgar—he vaguely remembered hearing the name before: “You know my grandfather?”
He posed the question audibly while his mind pieced together all the lingering clues from this time.
Whether it was the Princess or Miss Veronika, both had mentioned the shadow of the dragon race behind the unexpected events during the Holy War. And these two dragons—along with Marlaxias—witnessed the truth of that event. The reasons for their banishment were self-evident, although he still did not know when they were actually exiled. Yet he could easily guess that the three dragons had not been banished for long, as the historical absence of their names from the war in Jotungrund practically proved this. If it had been within a hundred years of their expulsion, the most likely timeframe was clearly between sixty to forty years ago.
That aligned perfectly with the time the Holy War occurred.
They were firsthand witnesses to that incident, possibly even key figures themselves. What mistakes had they made to warrant their banishment?
However, this time Gwenethlyn remained silent and replied simply, “Not quite acquainted, but we do know of him.”
“What exactly happened back then?” Brendel probed tentatively.
“Some matters are better left unknown to you,” Gwenethlyn’s tone softened slightly. “We owe your grandfather a favor. On his behalf, if you surrender the Sword of Earth today, we can let you go—provided you take your people and leave Cruz immediately. Everything that happens here will henceforth have nothing to do with you.”
She lifted her head and looked directly at Modest: “Modest?”
The black dragon mother, clearly reluctant, conceded, “Very well, I’ll go along with your wishes.”
Brendel could scarcely fathom that his grandfather held such sway—demanding gratitude even from dragons! Yet on one hand, he couldn’t help but feel slightly irked; after all, the dragon race also owed the Queen of Silver a favor, and they had assisted her in ascending to the throne—this was anything but a simple task, as it entailed not just the transition of a colossal empire like Cruz’s throne but also the balance of power among worldly factions. The Bud people would surely not sit idle; the People of Silver had made a vow with the former Golden kinds in the sacred covenant to disengage from mortal affairs. For the dragon race to act thus, they needed to convince both the Bud people and the Silver Elves, so one could imagine the significant price they paid.
Even so, under such tremendous pressure, what price had his grandfather, the renowned Sword Saint, paid? Not only did he receive accusations and grievances, but as a distinguished Sword Saint, he ended his days in anonymity as a miller. Moreover, for someone of his grandfather’s stature to have a lifespan similar to that of an ordinary person only highlighted the vast cost he had endured. The discrepancy in treatment seemed exceedingly unfair.
Ironically, Brendel—a grandson of the Sword Saint Darus—was reduced to muddling as a militia in a godforsaken corner like Buche.
Was this some sort of joke?
Of course, Brendel’s discontent was merely a fleeting thought; if history had truly unfolded this way, perhaps he wouldn’t even have arrived in this world.
What truly irked him was the attitude of Gwenethlyn and Modest at this moment—
He gently shook his head: “Lady Gwenethlyn, I do not expect you to return any favors. Although I have no intention of muddling through the affairs of the Cruz Empire, before you demand I leave here, you should first hear my request.”
“Oh?” Modest was slightly surprised, not expecting this little worm to dare to propose conditions to them; she inquired with a hint of amusement, “What are your terms? Speak up!”
“My request is quite simple. I came to the empire solely to bring back one person,” Brendel replied.
He could have made a swift exit; both he and the Princess were well aware that the so-called embassy was merely a guise. As long as he could retrieve Xi, he had no desire to meet the so-called Queen of Rustra. But as long as Xi remained within the Empire, he would never turn back, regardless of whether dragons or other dangers lay ahead; it held no significance for Brendel.
Gwenethlyn pondered for a moment and quickly understood what he meant. It seemed she was well aware of recent events within the Empire. She shook her head and said, “I’m afraid that is not possible; she is not important. More significant is the Celestial Halberd; you must know its value to the Cruz people. The Queen of Silver will not release her. This woman is a dangerous nuisance to you. I advise you to steer clear of her.”
Brendel had managed to maintain his composure, yet anger surged within him upon hearing this. Mortals feared dragons, but he felt no such trepidation. He coldly corrected Gwenethlyn: “She is my friend, not some nuisance. This so-called nuisance has been imposed upon her by those brigands of Cruz.”
“And so what?” Gwenethlyn retorted, utterly indifferent. “The Empire is stronger than you; you must accept that fact.”
Brendel took a deep breath: “But the Empire is also your enemy, isn’t it? The Celestial Halberd is of little importance to me; I want only the person. You are intent on acquiring the Sword of Earth, so you wouldn’t likely let the Celestial Halberd slip away.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Gwenethlyn shook her head.
“That is impossible.”
“Why?” Brendel was baffled, thinking these dragons must be crazy. Their actions were utterly incomprehensible to him. In his view, since they shared a common enemy and mutual interests—and given that they also owed his grandfather a favor—it would only make sense to collaborate. Yet, they not only rejected this notion but did so with such resolute finality.
“Because it’s too troublesome,” Gwenethlyn answered. “We do not lack for assistance.”
“So this is how you repay a favor? How utterly unique!” Brendel responded coldly.
“Think what you will,” Gwenethlyn maintained her cold demeanor. “I said before, because we are stronger than you, you must accept this fact.”
Brendel sneered, reflecting that these two female lizards seemed to think he was pleading with them: “So you believe you have already secured your prize?”
“Isn’t it so?” Modest replied sharply. “I cannot fathom what tricks you might have left.”
“That is because your mind is too dull,” Brendel retorted without mercy. “The Sword of Earth is right within my dimensional pocket. If you feel so assured, you are welcome to come and kill me to claim it for yourselves. Ladies, feel free to give it a try.”
Gwenethlyn and Modest were taken aback.
