Chapter 988: Act 161 – The War Tablet: Dragon Skin VII
A trace of shadow emerged at the corner of Brendel’s brow. “How many troops has Madara brought this time?” he suddenly asked.
“Six, as you can see,” Bai replied with a dismissive expression, but she had to answer: “They’re all here, human.”
“Six?”
Bai snorted coldly, her gaze falling on Crote beside her. “You can easily tell if I’m lying.”
Brendel cast a doubtful glance at the woman. He actually knew she was not lying; she had no need to do so over this matter. He had already considered the possibilities, but was curious about why this woman was pretending to be so furious. She had been creating this facade from the beginning, but the real Tiamas was definitely not like this. The Black Knight would never be angry; it was rare for her to lose her temper. After all, how could someone who scorned emotional thinking allow anger to dominate their mind?
Bai likely had no idea how familiar Brendel was with her. If she knew that he and Bai Jia were viewing her current performance as that of a clown, she might indeed feel a mix of embarrassment and anger.
Brendel felt that intense unease rise within him, recalling some memories of the Land of Undead Moons that were still vivid in his mind—the sunless mountains of the Alkarash region, the undead roaming the hills, and the battlefield filled with corpses. The undead were not exclusive to Madara; in the mountains east of Mehotofen slept countless souls, not only from decades-old holy wars but also from various wars and the great battle over a millennium ago, where innumerable Crusian, Fanzan, elves, and warriors from other races were buried.
Some undead sorcerers who had secluded themselves in these mountains since ancient times were operating their secret lairs. Even these beings would respond to the call of the Mercury Staff. If the Silver Queen handed over the eastern regions of Mez, Madara could very well transform this land into the Land of Undead Moons, and soon the wielder of the Mercury Staff could pull out an army to ravage this area.
But from Mehotofen to the Four Realms, that was a full third of an empire. Unless that woman was truly mad, she would not dare to make such a frenzied decision. Yet perhaps Constance truly had fallen into hysterical madness; all speculations seemed to point towards this possibility. Even though Brendel was unwilling to believe it, he could not help but plant a seed of doubt.
He fixed a grim stare at Bai.
He hadn’t expected this woman to speak, but unexpectedly Bai let out a cold laugh. “They reached an agreement; no one knows the content,” she said, staring into Brendel’s eyes. “But besides me, Horifen, Alwahite, and Greta have all gone to Alkarash. This secret is only known to a few, even in Madara—”
The decrepit knight Crote twitched uneasily on the ground, his jaw clattering, unsure if it was because he was hearing this news for the first time or because Bai dared to reveal that person’s secret. Brendel paid no attention to him; his mind was almost entirely captivated by her words. Horifen, Alwahite, and Greta had all gone to Alkarash—Horifen, the lord of the Undead Griffin Duchy, the most powerful traditional dark noble of Madara, and one of the strongest lords of this era. His strength surpassed that of the White who had acquired the blood of the evil dragon, yet despite being an old noble, he was fiercely loyal to the Mercury Staff, serving as that person’s true confidant.
Alwahite—upon hearing that name, Brendel even asked back, inquiring if the Elf-lady Queen had already surrendered to that person. This was earlier than he had anticipated, but it did not diminish the brilliance of her name. The Elf-lady Queen Alwahite was the strongest among the forces resisting the Mercury Staff; only after she yielded did the Madara Empire begin to move towards true unification.
Finally, there was Greta, the Sword of the Undead, the Sword of the Empire, the greatest Sword Saint of the next era. Some called the period before 375 of the First Era the age of the Earth Sword Saint Darus; after 375, it was the era of the Sword Saint Greta. Between these two half-centuries, there existed only the Gray Sword Saint Mephistopheles, while the two Sword Saints before and after were truly the formidable figures who made the entire continent bow.
At present, Greta should still be an apprentice of Maservale, who was the father of the renowned one-eyed dragon Tagus and also a famous undead sword saint, the Black Sword Saint. It was said that his strength was on par with Mephistopheles—but that was before Mephistopheles entered the realm of extremes. Brendel estimated that Greta’s strength might not exceed that of Veronika. But as the saying goes, great masters produce exceptional students; even more so since Maservale had encountered the once-in-a-millennium genius Greta. Born on the shores of the Land of Undead Moons, in the Forest of Burials, Greta was researched by players to be a resident of that area. He died at the tender age of sixteen and was later awakened as a minor bloodline, a fate that commonly befell countless minor undead summoned by undead sorcerers or higher-level vampires in Madara during those days; theoretically, Greta should have been one of those many low-ranking undead cannon fodders who perished in an inconsequential war in the Land of Undead Moons.
Yet history has such coincidences, and the one who revived him was Maservale—not only a Sword Saint but also the leader of the Manrein family. Greta soon caught Maservale’s attention with his unique soul fire and became his apprentice. Thereafter, he walked the dazzling path of genius, becoming the brightest star in Madara’s history.
The Sword of the Empire Greta perished with Echis in the final battle of Eternal Night, stabbing the right eye of the Head Wolf with his sword. Some say that had he not died, Madara’s expansion might not have halted at the Four Realms. Brendel also deeply agreed with this statement.
Such a person might still be weaker than Bai at this time, but he was a true confidant and trusted aide; he, Horifen, and Alwahite going to Alkarash already said quite a bit. At that moment, Brendel’s mind raced with thoughts, but he could not understand why Constance would make such a choice. He could imagine what was about to happen; it would absolutely overturn everyone’s understanding of this world.
Just suppose, a third of the empire suddenly fell into Madara’s hands; a vacuum would abruptly appear between Cruz, Saint Ausoor, and Fanzan. This Land of Undead Moons would completely alter the continent’s landscape, as if that mad queen had prematurely ushered the Empire of Undead Moons into the course of history. This was undoubtedly a far crazier action than any empire in history.
“Brendel,” Bai Jia suddenly spoke up, reminding him, “Though Constance is mad, she is by no means a fool. There must be a deeper reason for her actions.”
Brendel’s eyes brightened slightly. This was a discussion between two empires, not a child’s game; such a large-scale handover could not be completed in a day or two. But what could lead that entity, wielding the Mercury Staff, and the Silver Queen to trust each other so completely? Such a grand plan could only be executed with considerable mutual trust between Madara and the Crusian.
But how had these two gained each other’s trust?
“The Dark Dragon.” Bai seemed to see his confusion and answered in a devilish tone.
“That’s impossible!” Brendel growled lowly.
Although it was well-known that Madara’s undead had once served the Dark Dragon, after hundreds of years, they had long since become independent beings. Could it be that Constance, bearing only the title of Dark Dragon, could convince that being wielding the Mercury Staff to bow down? That seemed too whimsical. The entity, touted as the once-in-a-millennium monarch of the Dark Kingdom, how could its ambition submit to another? Not to mention that it had already gained its wings; with Alwahite’s submission, the empire was on the fast track. The following century belonged to Madara.
Would that being submit to Constance based solely on a rumor? That was laughingly absurd! Setting aside the fact that Constance held only part of the Dark Dragon’s legacy, even if she had obtained the entirety, she was not Odin. Brendel even thought that this woman before him was insulting his intelligence, trying to amuse him, but Bai, unexpectedly, was very serious as she looked at him with contempt, almost as if she had anticipated his expression.
“Yet the truth is as such,” she replied coldly. “I even know that Constance and that entity met in private; they met on the battlefield, and very few know the details of that meeting. However, I can at least confirm that they reached a unanimous agreement. I even know that after this plan is completed, Madara will definitely be incorporated into the Cruz Empire—of course, by then, Cruz will not be called Cruz anymore.”
“The newly formed state will be called Maldos.”
“The newly formed state will be called Maldos—”
A voice echoed on the ground, the Knight of Azure holding the Holy Spear promised the citizens below, after which for ten thousand years, this nation thrived and multiplied upon the ruins of the past—an empire of the Minren, a land that had perished fully a thousand years ago.
Brendel felt as though the world had gone mad, or rather that he had. He sensed someone gently supporting his back, the tenderness of his senior’s presence. He turned to see Bai Jia standing firmly beside him, and he understood her thoughts, feeling a bit moved. Ever since he had heard what Bai said, although he still couldn’t discern truth from falsehood, a cloud of gloom had settled in his heart. The future of this world had completely surpassed his control; the tides of the world were surging towards him. Before the storm, no one dared claim they could foresee where their fate would lead—he included.
He initially thought that he could finally grasp Erluin’s fate, but under the current circumstances, Erluin felt like a lone boat amidst a tsunami, at risk of capsizing at any moment. Before these colossal forces, the people of Erluin could not dominate their own fate.
For a moment, Brendel suddenly felt a great weariness in his heart.
But his senior Bai Jia standing beside him unexpectedly made him feel like he returned to that past time.
The future of the kingdom was murky; the fates of the entire kingdom and its people, and the aspirations and expectations of countless Erluin players, floated upon the raging sea. Although everyone knew they might fail, perhaps they had already failed, they still stayed—at least I had tried, and I wouldn’t regret it. They had failed before, leaving him with profound memories that would influence his entire life, yet this time they might not fail. Besides, with the same people standing beside him, how could he not have the courage to fight once more?
Whatever it was, as long as it blocked the way ahead, he would make it pay the price. Maldos had perished at the hands of the Four Sages a thousand years ago; a thousand years later, the outcome would not change.
“I understand now, senior,” Brendel responded softly.
Bai Jia showed a look of relief and nodded.
But Brendel knew this was not the time for mutual comfort; the most important thing now was to resolve the immediate issues. He looked at Bai, coldly asking, “What stage is this plan currently at?”
He paused, a complex glimmer flashing in his eyes as though he understood something: “The White Legion is remaining still in Owesen, isn’t it waiting for you—”
“Do you believe now?” Bai asked.
Brendel looked at the woman with some distaste. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, Miss Tiamas,” but he maintained his composure. “I actually understand your little tricks and what you intend to do. But now you should understand which side you should stand on. I hope you’ll show genuine sincerity in cooperating with me.”
“I stand on your side?” Bai scoffed. “Human, have you mistaken something? Though I brought these worthless ones along,” she glanced at Crote, not hiding her disdain for these trash, “that only indicates I have my own schemes. The individuals under that person—the Elf-lady Queen Alwahite, the Griffin King Horifen—who doesn’t have their own plans? This isn’t anything to speak of.”
“Stop beating around the bush,” Brendel coldly interrupted her. “I’ve been suspicious of your attitude for a while, but after your next words, you’ve already revealed your hand. You brought these worthless ones out not because you have your own plans—or indeed, it is because you have your own plans; you know they wouldn’t dare question your decisions. Compared to them, you are far closer to that person, and before them, you wield ultimate authority.”
Bai’s expression slightly changed, but she said nothing, quietly waiting for Brendel to continue.
“In fact, you weren’t lying before, Tiamas,” Brendel replied. “Your true goal is the Undead of Roslin, isn’t it?”
“I don’t understand your meaning, human,” Bai smiled.
Brendel pondered for a moment and then raised his head. “I didn’t want to be explicit, but for the sake of avoiding deceit in our future cooperation, I think it’s better to be straightforward,” he said. “Bai, or rather, Miss Tiamas Jiu Yue, there’s an organization in this world called the Twelve Heads of Xudela. May I ask which head you belong to?”
He enunciated the words carefully: “High Priest Tiamas, can you answer me?”
The smile froze on the face of the Undead Lady.
