The man before Brendel had ragged clothes that were repeatedly repaired with different scraps of cloth. He was found amongst the shacks at the southern Firburh and had previously worked in the sawmills.

  The battles within the city had frightened many citizens, and he was uneasy about working for the unfamiliar lord. But the lure of money and his woman’s persuasion finally made him agree to join as a guide.

  The young lord had promised to give him an entire gold coin. Even if he worked hard for a year, he might not even be able to earn this much money. With this reward, he would be able to send his child to the inner city and allow him to study as an apprentice in one of the workshops, and might even change his family’s fate for the better.

  “The woods in the south of Firburh is called the Direbear Forest,” He said carefully, as Brendel’s eyes twitched a little when he thought of the level 65 monsters in the game. “and the name comes about because there are a lot of wild bears in the forest. The four sawmills sit within the forest; three are in the deeper parts and are currently occupied by the creatures, while the fourth was destroyed and abandoned by the workers. Lord Graudin had sent his private armies to try and gain them back, but after two humiliating defeats, the baron never mentioned this matter again.”


  Brendel nodded. Things were just as he expected.

  They had left Firburh for about an hour.

  The wilderness gradually showed more trees the further they walked into the south. The expansive forest seemed to veer off to the east like a giant shadow. The guide was at the forefront riding with another mercenary on horseback, continuing to fill Brendel with the history of Graudin’s past. Very soon, they entered the forest filled with black and red pine trees, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

  “Hey,” a girl’s voice suddenly interrupted the guide’s explanation: “are the creatures that strong?”


  Brendel’s eyebrows raised upwards uncontrollably, while the corners of his lips twitched once. He did not know when Romaine appeared. After they had set off for the city for some time, she was suddenly frolicking about in front of his eyes.

  [This girl is supposed to be checking the previous accounting books from the past lords and counting the resources. Who’s the idiot who told her that I’m fighting against the Subterrane Dwellers?]

  “Of course, my lady,” the guide quickly answered in a loud voice: “I heard the city guards speaking about them. They described them as incredibly ugly and monstrous. Though they don’t have eyes, they can smell and sense sounds to differentiate their direction. They are swift and powerful, and average humans have no chance against them. Even the former baron’s soldiers have to form groups of three to fight a single creature.”


  Romaine prodded her chin with a white finger, imagining the image of the creature with her mind, before mumbling to herself: “Doesn’t that mean, they have a great advantage during the night?”


  “Indeed, I believe they do.” Amandina looked at Romaine with troubled eyes.

  She had trouble telling Brendel she was the one who actually leaked out the information. The sharp merchant girl had innocently asked a few questions before she spotted clues from her mistake and knew about their movements. Even now she did not know whether this [Lord’s fiancee] did it on purpose or it was a coincidence. Either answer was a little unacceptable to her.

  “Not only do they have the advantage in the night, in this dense forest where visibility is low, their advantages are also much better than us. Unless we send out Iron-ranked scouts, it’s unlikely we’re going to be able to discover them early,” Cornelius said, before turning to Brendel, “my lord, since we have entered the forest, should we send the scouts out?”


  Brendel shook his head.

  [A normal Subterrane Dweller has 15 OZ of strength, and 10 OZ agility. That’s pretty close to a veteran Iron-ranked fighter; any typical mercenary isn’t their match.]

  “I only brought approximately three hundred mercenaries and left the remainder behind to defend the city. I don’t want to split my forces anymore. Also, just think about it, who is more familiar with the forest, the mercenaries or the Subterrane Dwellers?” He stared into the forest.

  Amandina asked in surprise: “Of course it’s the Subterrane Dwellers, but my lord…… You mean you are not going to send off scouts……” She had never seen any tactics without scouting in the books, but there was a glint in her eyes as she asked: “Magic?”


  “A close enough answer.” Brendel glanced at the ground as he summoned the card in his mind. The Wind Spirit Spiders were climbing out one by one in a line from the ground ahead of them. The mercenaries who saw them jumped up in fright, but a few of them had seen or heard of these things in action during the battle with Madara. Since the mercenaries eventually knew the spiders was controlled by Brendel, they quickly calmed down, but they looked at him with fear and respect.

  They were quickly reminded of the Gold-ranked wizard under him. In this era, any nobles who employed these wizards are proof of high nobility. Even Duke Arreck or Duke Karsuk, or dukes with similar clout only had two or three Gold-ranked wizards as their advisors.

  But Brendel was a mere scion, and he had not only a Gold-ranked wizard but two additional Gold-ranked fighters, Medissa and Scarlett. Even the lord himself was a Gold-ranked swordsman. The veteran mercenaries who saw Medissa even guessed that she was a Silver Elf, and they had not appeared in this land for centuries. The impact they had when they explained to their younger comrades was huge, especially when there were rumors that he had a strong relationship with the Silver Elves.

  The three mercenaries’ commanders felt they were increasingly unable to see where the mysteries around him ended. But it was also the reason why they had the determination to stand together against Count Randner who quite possibly would only the same number of high ranking fighters as Brendel.

  Otherwise, they would rather escape into the Dark Forest because that option would have a better chance of survival.

  Brendel had heard the rumors as well, but he was certain that it was Amandina and Romaine who spread them. The combination of a careful planner and peculiar thinker made interesting ideas. They even worked well together during the Madara’s siege, and so he allowed them to continue without checking them.

  He quietly brought out the Holy Sword card. The next moment, Magic Circles appeared all over the area and attached themselves to the spiders. The three commanders who saw Brendel’s actions immediately paled. The mana released into the area around them was impossible to gauge, and it seemed like it could even defeat a Gold-ranked existence if used appropriately.

  They were certain he was a Gold-ranked swordsman, yet it seemed like he was also a Gold-ranked wizard. It was unthinkable.

  Brendel waved his hand and set the commands to kill all non-human bipeds, with were several restrictions in play. The Subterrane Dwellers had their outposts nearby, and he needed to remove them. Although it was unnecessary to ensure they were undiscovered all the way, he needed more time to set things up.

  The Wind Spirit Spiders began to fly across the area as streaks of light.

  The Nightsong Tiger rode closer and asked: “My lord, what exactly is your plan for fighting this battle? If the information is right, there are thousands of these creatures. They outnumber us many times, and every individual has a fighting strength that surpasses our own army’s, and to tell the truth, I’m unable to think of a way to fight them.”


  “Please don’t get the jitters before we fight,” Scarlett said from behind them, “Captain Nightsong.”


  “Captain?” The large man suddenly laughed as he turned his head at the girl and Brendel: “It seems like miss Scarlett has thought about it and is ready to join us?”


  The young girl nodded without any care and glanced at Brendel as well: “I thought about it and since I have no place to return to—”


  “I apologize.” The Nightsong Tiger suddenly frowned when he heard her words.

  “It’s fine. Let us hear our lord’s ideas. I’m also curious as to how we should fight this battle. When my former commander led the Grey Wolves Mercenaries, the highest number of enemies we fought against was twice our size, but it was a group of untrained bandits. It differs greatly from our situation now.”


  “Yup,” Romaine was moving animatedly on her horse, making people wonder if she were going to fall off, “Brendel, a night battle would be to our disadvantage since the creatures have good hearing and smell. I think we should finish the fight against them as soon as possible.”


  The three mercenaries’ commanders drew a little closer and raised their attention when they heard the discussion. Brendel smiled when he saw their reactions. He did not choose to reassign their men because they were still unfamiliar and wary with him. If he tried to force or hastily bring up the topic, he might cause misunderstandings, and they would resist his orders. He ultimately chose to let them become impatient and come to him instead.

  Cornelius was the first commander to react and shake his head, while he observed Brendel’s reaction: “Even though we have not fought against these creatures, but they are definitely not rabble judging how they disgraced Graudin’s armies twice. My men might be slightly stronger than Graudin’s men by a little, but I’m not ashamed to admit that we’re severely outmatched.”


  “Then what should be done?” Romaine blinked her big round eyes and asked curiously.

  “I believe my lord wants to remove their outposts,” Amandina watched the final spider disappear before returning her gaze to Brendel, thinking for a while, “to gain enough time for us before they react? My lord, are you thinking of assaulting one of the sawmills with as fast as possible, then lure the remaining creatures to attack us?”


  Brendel’s eyes had a hint of praise. It was indeed his idea to change from offense to defense.

  “It’s a good plan,” Raban also praised Amandina’s answer, “but is it going to work?”


  “The Subterrane Dwellers know where their advantages lie. If they lose in the daytime, then they will attempt to gain it back in the night.” Brendel replied, “They might have the night advantage, but we can make it up with a defense from the sawmill. We are equal in this area. The rest would be on our commanders’ capabilities, morale, and fighting strength.”


  He appeared confident, but he thought he was not exactly a genius in his mind. He had a number of strategies that were derived from the efforts of countless gamers, and this plan he was using was when Kirrlutz fought against the Jurgen Underworld.

  “But what if they don’t attack us?” Scarlett asked.

  “Isn’t that fine?” The Nightsong Tiger laughed: “We will just attack in the day. But our numbers and fighting capabilities are still a problem, my lord.”


  Brendel nodded and ordered their guide to skip the abandoned sawmill and instead march directly to the nearest occupied by the Subterrane Dwellers. He looked up at the sun which was slowly setting to the west: “That is a problem, but I do have a solution if they stay behind their defenses.”


  volume 3 - 8

  He suddenly looked up at her when he realized it was all thanks to her luck.

  “What is it, my lord?” She asked.

  “Nothing,” he said as he brought up the Stats Window and looked at his abilities.

  – Power Break

  – Level 11(10+1), Master Rank, 3 Stamina, + 15 OZ Strength, +10% OZ Strength

  – White Raven Sword Arte

  – Level 6 (5+1), Elite Rank

  – Frontal Assault (5+1)

  – Level 6 (5+1), Elite Rank

  Brendel walked out to the center of the garden, drew out his sword and slashed at the sky. But instead of the usual crescent-like wave, a gigantic web of air currents violently formed into a spiral that seemed to drag the world to its center. Metallic petals seemed to appear from nowhere and refracted light as it followed the air currents, piercing through anything that crosses its path. When the burst of wind finally died down, the nearby trees were in shambles and bald.

  Leaves fluttered through the slight breeze that still remained, while the two stared at the scene with agape mouths.

  [Holy shit, this AOE is huge,] Brendel was cursing from the shock: “I have never heard of such an insane Sword Arte. Did the Aouine court ever have something like this in their teachings?”


  “My lord,” Felaern’s eyes glinted once as she adjusted the account book in her arms: “was that the Royal Court’s Sword Arte?”


  “It’s a coincidence that I got it,” Brendel said.

  He sheathed his weapon and saw a red and white figure dashing over. Scarlett and Medissa were resting in their rooms, but the explosive sound from the wind pressure reached them. They were slightly taken aback at Brendel and Felaern’s figures, glanced at each other once, and spoke at the same time: “What happened my lord!”


  “Nothing to be concerned about, I’m just training a little.” He replied.

  Scarlett immediately frowned when she saw the trees that were stripped bare. She was fond of the certain tranquil silence found there and felt at peace whenever she walked past it. Her eyes went back to the young man with slight dissatisfaction.

  Brendel completely missed her reproachful gaze and said: “Right, Scarlett. Follow me for a walk.”


  “Where to?” Her spear relaxed slightly from the surprise.

  “We’re going to Firburh’s inner area, before leaving the city.”


  “Only us?”


  “I probably want Cornelius and the others to come along.”


  “What about me,” Medissa bowed slightly and put her hand over her chest as she asked: “should I go along, my lord?”


  “I need you to stay in the city,” Brendel shook his head, his eyes going to her “the undead might have fled, but they did not move far away. I need to leave men behind in the city to prevent any sudden attacks. Even though Iamas won’t fight a battle with such odds, but a battlefield can change anytime, and I need to put safeguards. Ciel and you should be enough to hold him off.”


  Medissa quietly nodded without any surprise shown, and merely head back. Scarlett walked and passed her by. She had thought of something, but after a moment of hesitation, she chose not to say anything. She lowered her spear and walked over to Brendel: “Where exactly are we going, my lord?”


  “The prison,” he said.

  The journey took approximately thirty minutes. When he set foot in the prison, it was just as he had imagined. It was a dark, dirty place filled with a foul stench that caused him to frown and wrinkle his nose. Rats larger than cats would sometimes run past the uneven ground tiles when they went past the cells.

  [A horrible history in this place. The lore in the game stated that it was constructed about two hundred and forty years ago. The threats from the borders were greater in the past, and this prison was used to torture and jail the ‘barbarians’ from the Dark Forest.]

  However, Graudin used this place to imprison the poor citizens who did not pay their taxes, thieves or lowly ranked nobles who offended him. Most of them were falsely accused of a crime, and the remainder of them were directly thrown in without reason. Many had suffered in this place without seeing daylight for years, and given the fact that the kingdom set their laws during a harsh era and hardly changed, the treatment that they received was terrible.

  Many died in the prison from illnesses.

  After the battle against Graudin, Brendel ordered Amandina to release the citizens who were jailed; most of them were impoverished farmers who could not afford to pay the taxes. Thus, the prison that was used filled to the brim appeared oddly quiet.

  Brendel, Scarlett, and Felaern continued to follow the guards in front of them. Footsteps echoed throughout the narrow path, and they would sometimes knock against the chains that hung loosely from the ceiling. Brendel was considerably irritated when he realized that they were there to instill fear to the prisoners.

  An old man who was in one of the deepest, isolated cells sat up in alarm and steadied his breathing.

  [Someone’s coming again— the footsteps sound constant and powerful, moving at an even pace. There was a lot of commotion during yesterday’s night. The guards seemed to be replaced with a new batch, and military at that. The people currently approaching here seem even more formidable.]

  The old man’s name was Bosley. He had spent half his life amongst soldiers and developed an innate sense to detect bloodlust like a wild animal. Keys jangled as they repeatedly tried to open an iron gate leading to his cell’s section. Given that he was the only one in it, he was certain they were there to find him.

  His heart beat painfully.

  The first ray of light came from the corner and poured into this cell. He had not seen any form of light for a long time, and it painfully caused him to tear up, but he did not look away. He could not even recall how long it had been since he was thrown into this godforsaken place, neither remember what the world outside nor the daylight look like.

  [There’s no reason for Graudin to send his man here…… Given the commotion last night, does it mean that bastard was replaced? But every member of the Randner’s family are as vile as they come.]

  Bosley sneered in his heart.

  A few seconds passed, before the warm voice of a young man wormed into his ears.

  “Bosley Lipsius, Lord of the Golden City, Royal Faction. I do recall that you were supposed to be dead because of Everton’s Rebellion?”


  The voice shook Bosley enough for him to stand up. His muscles turned rigid, and his face paled. He gradually got used to the light and realized the person who spoke to him was a young man.

  “Who…… are you?” The old man’s heart was beating rapidly.

  The Royal Faction lost completely in that fateful battle. The highest ranking leader within the Royal Faction, Duke Everton of Highfield, was implicated and imprisoned. Bosley received a secret report of the situation and cast the lies that he died in the battle and he was not an important figure in the Royal Faction.

  He moved to the borders and changed his name, awaiting the day for the Royal Faction to rise again. However, he had offended Graudin over a small matter and was sentenced to life imprisonment. He thought he was going to die alone without anyone caring, but someone called out his true identity out from nowhere.

  Even Graudin did not know his name.

  On the other side, Scarlett and Felaern looked at him in surprise. It seemed like the young lord somehow knew at least one person from every single place they traveled. This time, it was someone who was supposedly dead and well before Brendel was born. Amandina had stated that he was probably a scion of an incredibly powerful family, although they did not put much belief into it.

  “Who I am isn’t important to you. I am not from the Royal Faction, Duke Arreck or Randner.” Brendel smiled faintly.

  “Then you are from……”


  “Consider me as a separate faction, Grandmaster Bosley,” Brendel received a waterskin bag from one of the mercenaries prepared for the old man, and passed it to him, “but you should know that my goal is the same as yours.”


  The old man was considerably grateful to Brendel for his actions. He received the waterskin bag and drank from it greedily. When he was done, he wiped his lips with his dirty sleeves before asking his next question: “What does that mean?”


  “To restore Aouine.”


  “Restoring the kingdom? If that’s the case, why not join the Royal faction and assist the Corvado royal family?” Bosley lowered the waterskin bag as he studied the youth with considerable suspicion: “Or perhaps, you stand with the Seifers?”


  Brendel shook his head, “No, I belong to no faction other than myself. I have my position to consider, and I handle things differently, but these things are not important. I am here to recruit you to my side.”


  “What can a miserable old man help you with?” The old man chortled.

  “Grandmaster Bosley, you’re one of the finest blacksmiths in Aouine proficient in crafting armor, are you not?”


  “— You want to raise your own private soldiers?” Bosley’s eyes darkened.

  “Indeed.”


  volume 3 - 13