Chapter 95: Act 31 – The Lord of the Silver Fortress, Turiman (Celebrating the Fifth Update of the Fourth Generation’s First Flight)
In the Amber Sword, there has long been a legend in the southern part of Golan-Elsen about a scholar living at the Needle Pine Road between Ankeze and Bruglas, who is said to be at level one hundred and twenty. This legend has been circulating since the year 380 of the First Era, drawing many to seek him out. However, it was not until four years later that players finally had the chance to meet this legendary figure for the first time.
Brendel knew that person; his name was Turiman.
Turiman, Lord of the Silver Fortress and an eminent scholar, was also a mid-level wizard.
He was the silver leader of the Twelve Rings Society of Sorcery, and after that organization disbanded during the Year of the Seven Colors, he left the floating city of Kanich, where Bud was, and returned to seclusion in Golan-Elsen.
In the game, on days when he was patient enough, he would help some players with the Scholar class transition. Of course, most of the time, he was not in a good mood if bothered by ordinary people. Therefore, after the initial excitement, most players returned to the noble library in Bruglas Fortress, as transitioning to Scholar only required a small fee for registration and did not require facing an NPC’s mood, which would not make a difference.
However, players are a peculiar breed; they always try to uncover some unknown secrets. Therefore, there have always been those attempting to gain benefits from this old man, although Brendel was unsure if anyone had ever succeeded. But he had to admit that this time it was his turn.
After all, there would be no harm in trying; he might succeed! Furthermore, Brendel had always suspected what connection the game’s Silver Fortress scholars had with this old man, but he never had the chance to test it until now.
Now there was a convenient opportunity; he certainly would not let it slip away.
What he did not expect was that Turiman did not live in the village but on a hillside a few miles away. Previously, he only knew the general area of where the man lived in the game and didn’t realize this oversight would waste almost half of his morning in this world.
Being careless was indeed harmful to oneself and others.
The four of them strolled through the forest along several busy roads leading from Ankeze to Bruglas Fortress. Therefore, the forest did not exhibit the primitive scenery found in the Buche area. It seemed more like a country road filled with rural charm, winding through the shaded trees, with wooden fences set up at intervals along the sides, and fallen leaves covered the gravel ground.
Walking in such a place unconsciously relaxed them. Freya stared dreamily at the beautiful scenery in the forest, while Romaine followed her with her hands behind her back, glancing about as if finding this amusing.
Only Brendel, used to such sights, grew a bit impatient after walking for nearly an hour and could not help but turn back to ask, “Balthom, are you sure the person we’re looking for lives in this kind of place?”
Balthom rubbed his red beard, took off his hat, and replied, “Absolutely certain, my lord. If you’re looking for an old man with a big white beard who likes to wear a long gray robe dragging on the ground, then there’s only this one around here. I, Balthom, have my ways of gathering information, so you can rest assured—”
Brendel nodded.
Balthom was still trustworthy; everything he had done in the past month had been quite satisfactory. Of course, some were handled in a mercenary manner. In truth, Balthom was also quite accustomed to Brendel’s commands; unlike many nobles, he did not act arrogantly—he simply treated Brendel, whom he recognized as a mercenary leader, as such.
Balthom, with his red beard, sincerely believed that was the level a leader should have.
However, the only uncertainty was about Brendel and his wizard attendant. The young man named Charles often appeared and disappeared, making him seem mysterious.
Sometimes Balthom speculated about what the master and servant were up to, but ultimately could only attribute it to the enigmatic nature of Highland Knights.
As the two spoke, they reached the end of the forest. Freya let out a soft gasp, and then the view before them suddenly opened up: ahead lay a hillside meadow with a dirt road leading to a small wooden house that stood alone at the top of a dirt mound.
It was quite a peculiar house. When Brendel and the others got closer, they noticed it resembled half a wooden barrel turned upside down, with the door opening in the center and arched windows on either side. On the window sills were potted flowers, purple or silver, names even Brendel could not identify. However, they looked like hyacinths. The young man thought so until he saw the evening primroses growing in a nearby flower bed and realized these might all be rare magical materials.
As they approached the fence surrounding the wooden house, there was a bell hanging on the arched door. However, Brendel knew the man’s rules; as long as Turiman wasn’t taking a nap at this time, he would have already detected their presence through a warning spell. Therefore, ringing the bell at this moment would only bring displeasure.
Brendel recalled that the bell should only be rung when there was an urgent matter.
He remembered that the only time in the game it had been rung was when a dragon had attacked a nearby village.
At that moment, he felt Freya nudge his elbow. He turned back to see Freya looking at him with a puzzled expression, asking, “Brendel, where is this place?”
She had already realized that he had come to meet someone else, but who could live in such a place?
“Just an old man’s home,” Brendel replied, looking back at the door of the wooden house.
“An old man?”
“Yeah, he’s a wizard.”
Freya let out a low “ah,” and nearly dropped her sword to the ground. In fact, it wasn’t just her; even Balthom, who had witnessed much, straightened his chest upon hearing Brendel’s words. A wizard was a wizard. Although Charles was also a wizard apprentice, he paled in comparison to a true wizard.
In fact, in Erluin and even in the whole land of Vaunte, wizards had always been the most mysterious characters in bedtime stories. Many grew up hearing tales about wizards, and descriptions of such people were often tied to spirits and ghosts.
But Brendel knew that, in truly prosperous areas, such as large cities or densely populated towns, wizards were quite common. Many royal academies cultivated court wizards, so fundamentally, these individuals weren’t as mysterious as they seemed.
Of course, if it were dark wizards, witches, or necromancers, then they could easily be equated with the characters in mythical tales.
Brendel glanced at Little Romain, only to discover that this business lady seemed a bit nervous at the moment as well. He couldn’t help but ask, “What are you nervous about?”
“Aunt says you must be polite when dealing with wizards; otherwise, you’ll attract unnecessary trouble,” Romaine answered matter-of-factly.
“Oh—”
Before Brendel could respond, a soft voice came from inside the house. The old man exclaimed, “That saying is no mere folk legend. Young girl, who is your aunt?”
The aged voice seemed to accompany the opening door and the old man, dressed in a gray robe, with a pair of tortoiseshell glasses perched on his nose, his silver hair and snow-white beard hanging down to his waist, into the perception of the four individuals present.
Not just Romaine and Freya, but this was also Brendel’s first time meeting Turiman, the legendary scholar of level one hundred and twenty.
“Aunt is just Aunt,” Romaine confidently replied.
The old man glanced over the others, as if sizing them up. However, his somewhat cloudy gaze swept over Brendel and Balthom without pausing and then lingered a moment on Freya.
Finally, he looked at Little Romain and raised an eyebrow, saying, “Young girl, just from looking at you, I can tell who your aunt is. Hmph, you’ve certainly inherited her temperament.”
Upon hearing his words, Freya and Brendel were both stunned. Freya was surprised that this old man actually knew Romaine’s aunt, but Brendel had just mentioned he was a wizard! Brendel was equally shocked that Turiman knew Romaine’s aunt, though they were surprised for entirely different reasons—
The distinction between someone known by a wizard and someone known by the Lord of the Silver Fortress, the silver leader of the Twelve Rings Society, was vast.
“Have you met Romaine’s aunt, old man?”
“You know Aunt Jennie?” they both spoke at once.
Turiman had initially intended to turn and go back inside but paused upon hearing this. He first looked at Freya and didn’t respond but then focused on Brendel, replying instead, “Young man, don’t you know what politeness is?”
Brendel coughed. He was used to dealing with NPCs and, having just been shocked, had spoken out of turn. He could only awkwardly smile and feign ignorance, “Wasting life is a shameful act, old man; I’m merely trying to save time—”
Turiman’s squinted eyes opened slightly, “So you do know me?”
“Of course,” Brendel replied frankly, “How could I not know the Lord of the Silver Fortress, the silver leader of the Twelve Rings Society, Lord Turiman?”
When he said this, Freya appeared unfazed, but Balthom’s hat unknowingly fell to the ground. He didn’t know who the silver leader of the Twelve Rings Society was, but the owner of the Silver Fortress was a well-known wizard. There was a famous tale in the mercenary world of a half-mercenary, half-thief group that had targeted the legendary ‘hall made of mithril,’ resulting in four or five hundred people and two ogres being turned to stone.
Those statues still stood on the desolate shores of the Wailing Sea today for travelers to see.
And now, that legendary figure stood before Balthom, making it hard for him not to be shocked. But what astonished him even more was that Brendel was chatting amicably, as if he were on good terms with the legendary figure. Was his lord truly out of his mind?
But even more unbelievable for the red-bearded mercenary leader came next—
Turiman paused at Brendel’s words, then stopped to scrutinize the young man again. He looked him up and down as if confirming whether he remembered such a person or not and finally asked, “Young man, it seems you came prepared. But who are you? I don’t recall anyone like you? Whose son are you?”
Brendel glanced at Romaine, realizing he hadn’t anticipated Turiman’s acquaintance with Romaine’s aunt, which made the connection suspect. It seemed Little Romain’s aunt was indeed not someone simple—at the very least, she must be a renowned witch.
However, there were only a few famous witches in history. Could it be that legendary Azure Witch—who abandoned the throne of the Witch Queen and left the Winter Kingdom of Iberia to come into the mortal world?
He buried that suspicion deep in his mind. In response to Turiman’s question, he shook his head and replied, “I’m not anyone’s descendant, but I have a question for you.”
“A question?” Turiman paused.
Brendel shaped his mouth and pronounced clearly, “Stam—”
The old man hesitated, initially as if catching on to something. But soon, he furrowed his brow, “What does this mean?”
Brendel was taken aback; he had spoken the original lines from the creation epic of the Crusian people, the ancient poem of the Azure, and in his time, each of these original texts would later ignite the Wizards War—a conflict among wizards. He was astonished that Turiman had not heard of it. A chill ran down his spine; could it be that there was no so-called ‘Earth Stone Tablet’ in this world?
But the young man quickly realized that it might be due to the early era when the Earth Stone Tablet had not yet appeared. In the Amber Sword, the rise of Madara was just a branch of a historical side story. Although it heavily influenced Erluin and the surrounding countries, the real main story of that world revolved around the emergence of the Earth Stone Tablet.
The outbreak of the Wizards War—
Brendel certainly did not want to introduce the Earth Stone Tablet into this world so early; he merely intended to pique Turiman’s interest with one word.
Although a single word had almost no significance to the entire text, the magical essence contained within these creation words should be fundamentally the same. He believed Turiman should be able to discern the essence within.
He looked at Turiman and replied, “Old man, have you heard of the sacred poem describing the creation of the world, the Azure Poem of the Crusian people?”
Turiman pressed a hand against his beard. He did indeed feel the primitive and ancient magic contained in the earlier term. It was not powerful, but it resonated with the source of all current magic. Initially, he thought it was an ancient dragon language, or a variation of runic, or wizard language, but upon searching his memory, he found he knew nothing.
Turiman did not doubt that this young man would deceive him. To be honest, as a scholar who had devoted a century to the sea of books and practice, someone who could trick him would have to possess impressive capabilities.
“You mean that which is claimed to predate the Elven Hymn, the first epic that the Crusian people pride themselves on?” the old man asked.
Brendel understood the prejudice the People of Silver held against humanity. Although Bud was a wizard, he was not human. Their bloodline was noble, looking down on the folk below. Consequently, the long and rich history of the Crusian people was something these People of Silver both envied and were unwilling to acknowledge.
As a player, he didn’t mind this prejudice and simply nodded.
“What relation does that have to the ‘word’ you mentioned earlier?” Turiman inquired.
At this moment, their discussion had surpassed what Freya, Balthom, and Romaine could grasp. The three had long since been left in the clouds, while Freya merely amplified Brendel’s shadow in her heart, and Balthom had already been shocked beyond measure—
But only they knew that Brendel was just bluffing.
“That is the original text of the Azure Poem, describing how our world was created by the goodwill of Martha. Lord Turiman, I have told no lies—you should be able to sense the magic contained within that word byte,” Brendel answered.
Turiman’s expression shifted as he turned back into the house. Soon the sound of pages flipping echoed from inside the wooden house.
At this moment, Brendel knew that his plan had succeeded halfway. He turned back to Freya and the others, gesturing for them to follow. Then, he led the three of them into Turiman’s home—
…
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Feeling a bit of pain in his stomach again tonight, let’s write 4500 for now, sigh. (To be continued. For more chapters and details, please log in, support the author, support the original reading!)
