Brando lowered his head, the pupils in his dark brown eyes constricted. They were as still as water, but there was a flickering light in them. One of his hands was tucked under his trench coat, and his exposed left hand hung down naturally. The pale hand was slender like a sword, and the knuckles were as thin as white bones, but they contained strength and were slightly curled.
This was the hand of an outstanding swordsman.
He stared at Princess Gryphine, who was not far away from him, with a complicated look in his eyes.
"T-Teacher?" Haruz looked up with a pale face and reached out weakly, as if he wanted to grab Brando's hand that was holding the sword, but he grabbed his left wrist instead. He knew, knew that Brando's hand was under the trench coat, perhaps holding the simple cross-shaped hilt. The dark blade of the Halran Gaia was sleeping in the scabbard with dwarf-style patterns, controlled by a stable force.
He looked up, his weak pupils dilated, and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat. He looked at his teacher with some panic. He shook his head hard, almost with a pleading look, "No, no, that is …"
He had seen Brando kill with his own eyes. It was a group of cultists he met on his journey. The count he knew, his teacher, had changed his usual gentle and polite appearance, just like now, cold as a sharp sword out of its scabbard.
When he saw his teacher fighting, he was like an executioner who had abandoned all human emotions. Every sword strike would take away a life. It was so easy that it was as if he was cutting grass on the training ground. In the young prince's memory, there was only one person who fought like this, Maynild. But the female Knight was far less skilled than his teacher in controlling his blade so that it could easily cut people's throats, and let the rose red color spread over the snow-white metal.
Air sizzled as it was sucked into the cut trachea, and blood mixed with fragments spurted out of the neck. The lifeless body fell limply to the ground, making a muffled sound like a heavy object falling to the ground. Brando's eyes were as cold as steel. This was the military's swordsmanship, he had told him. Haruze shuddered in his heart.
He looked back at his sister. Although she was a lot different from what he remembered, more mature, more beautiful, and more majestic, she was still his sister, and Haruze would never mistake her for someone else. He suddenly remembered what Brando had warned him in advance. The fear in his heart grew stronger, like a vine quietly creeping along the corner of the wall.
No matter what, he was not willing to see his sister die in the hands of his teacher.
Brando let Haruz grab his left hand.
He could feel the uneasiness in the young prince's heart. This uneasiness seemed to be contagious. His hand holding the sword was already covered in sweat, soaking the grey wolf leather on the hilt of Halran Gaia.
This was Viscount Cauldell's dream. It was like the eternal sleep that the witches spoke of. Only the master of the dream could decide when this long dream began and when it ended. But unfortunately, Viscount Cauldell had lost himself long ago. His world only existed in this incomplete world of fog. In order to wake him up, he had to find the memories he had been running away from.
The only way to escape from here was to wake up. But the master of the dream had lost himself long ago. His world only existed in this incomplete world of fog. In order to wake him up, he had to make up for it. The only way was for him to find himself.
Should he complete his unfinished mission?
The voice in his heart was almost screaming for him to draw his sword quickly. Viscount Cauldell's regret had turned him into a monster filled with anger, regret, jealousy, and negative emotions. He was like a ghoul howling in Brando's heart.
"Kill her!"
"Kill them!"
"Don't regret it!"
"Don't hesitate!"
"Ahhhhh!"
Brando's hand was on the hilt of the sword. He took it down and put it on again. He knew this was a dream. In the dream, the pale spirit would cleverly manipulate people's hearts. If he hesitated, he would be forever trapped in this foggy dream.
But what about the other way around?
Brando still didn't move.
The Princess Gryphine in front of him was just an illusion. But the feelings in his heart were sincere. If he drew his sword on her here, it would be like drawing his sword on something he had always wanted to protect in his heart.
Being lost in the dream would make a person's heart confused and torn apart.
"Don't go, Bessie!" Princess Gryphine saw her "sister" grab Brando and hurriedly stepped forward to pull her back. Then she pulled Haruz back a step. Two Knight immediately protected them.
The Eldest Princess raised her head and looked coldly at Brando. "Cauldell, you know who you are. You once swore to me that you would abandon everything in the past. You should be well aware of your uncle's actions. I didn't even ask you to be his enemy, I only asked that you protect Bessidine's safety as her fiancé. But you have disappointed me too much. "
She took out a letter and said in a cold voice, "Your true face has been exposed long ago."
"Sister, it's not like that …" Haruz wanted to explain but Brando's cold glare stopped him. The little prince still didn't realize this. In this dream, they were Cauldell and Bessie.
Not Brando and Haruz.
As soon as the Eldest Princess finished speaking, Brando suddenly heard a loud boom from above the palace. Then the entire hall shook. The ostentatious walls and Pseudo-Doric columns shook as if a terrible earthquake was happening.
The nobles in the hall lost their footing. Screams filled the air. The scene became chaotic. The crowd tried to escape through the various exits. Tables and chairs were knocked over and windows shattered.
However, the tranquil corner of the hall was in stark contrast to it. Brando, Haruz, the Princess and the Knight didn't seem to be affected by the shaking ground at all.
Brando looked at the nobles who fell out of the broken windows. He knew that this wasn't an earthquake that Cauldell had experienced. It was his heart shaking. The cause of all this was probably the letter in Princess Gryphine's hand. Viscount Cauldell must have experienced this and had a deep impression of it.
The Princess's words were like a sharp sword that stabbed into his heart.
Brando was silent. As expected, the voice in his heart screamed, "Quick, kill everyone!"
But Brando's hand was on the hilt of his sword. He didn't pay attention to him.
At this moment, another scream sounded outside the palace. He turned back and saw that the crowd that had just surged out was now flowing back. Countless soldiers in red and white battle robes appeared outside the Kinten Palace. These soldiers were fully armored and their faces were covered by metal masks. They held sharp swords and killed anyone they saw. In the blink of an eye, the Kinten Palace was covered in rivers of blood.
"How can this be!" The young prince stood behind Princess Gryphine and saw this scene. His face was pale with fright. He couldn't help but cry out, "Who are they?"
"It's Duke Arreck!" Princess Gryphine took in a soft breath. She raised her head and stared at Brando. "Capture Viscount Cauldell before Duke Arreck arrives!"
How could these soldiers be Duke Arreck's men?
No matter if it was in his previous life or now, the nobles under Arreck's command would never wear red and white battle robes. Besides, in Brando's memory, none of this had happened at the banquet that day. The smell of blood that had always lingered around his nose seemed to become reality because of this scene. It became even more pungent and the smell of burning gradually took over his sense of smell.
Brando raised his head and saw that flames were indeed burning from the ceiling. It seemed that in an instant, the entire hall had become a sea of fire.
This was Viscount Cauldell's dream. Everything that had happened in the dream that day had now been repaired by him and Haruz bit by bit and reappeared in their dream.
Beside Princess Gryphine, two Knights were lunging at him. Haruz rushed over and tried to stop one of them but the "little princess" lifted her skirt and almost tripped over herself.
Brando pulled out the Halran Gaia. The black longsword left its scabbard like a ray of black light. But he felt that the sword was much heavier than usual. This was because his power was less than ten percent of his usual level. He was almost at the upper silver level.
Fortunately, Brando had expected this. The power in the dream was determined by the owner of the dream. In other words, he was now representing the Viscount Cauldell of the past. But the power of an upper silver level was too weak in the year of the Wind Elves' glorious return.
The two Knights lunging at him were both at the middle gold level. No wonder Princess Gryphine dared to not hide her cold gaze. In any era, the gap between the peak of the silver level and the middle gold level could not be crossed. Of course, this excluded some of the geniuses among geniuses.
Brando was no genius but the wisdom and experience he had were the accumulation of thousands of people. For example, his swordsmanship. Although he could only fight with Viscount Cauldell's power, this did not mean that he had lost all his advantages.
As soon as the two Knights approached, before they could draw their swords, Brando's sword was already one step ahead of them. The black steel blade cut through the air. The side reflecting the light of the fire flashed with cold light. In an instant, it had cut into the two men's vision.
The two Knights looked shocked. They didn't even see how Brando had drawn his sword. Before the second Holy War, the Knight's swordsmanship of the Wind Elves emphasized both attack and defense. This was because most of the subordinates of the Dark Dragon were magical creatures created from dark magic. Exchanging their lives with these cheap cannon fodder was obviously not worth it. Besides, the war back then was far less cruel and barbaric than it was later.
So Brando's swordsmanship seemed crazy to them. But this crazy guy's swordsmanship was clearly far above theirs. The two Knights had no choice but to take a step back. But Brando had already grasped the opportunity.
He followed closely and swept away the Elven longsword in one of the Knight's hands. With a crisp clang, the upper half of the sword broke and flew out, stabbing into a table. The Knight had never seen such barbaric behavior. Wearing heavy armor, he kept retreating. Brando chased after him until another Knight took the opportunity to stab at him from behind.
But Brando didn't even turn around. The snow-silver Elven longsword pierced through his body as if it had stabbed an illusion.
That illusion didn't stop at all. Instead, it turned and swept its sword across. With a clang, the Elven Knight's helmet flew high into the air.
Below it was an Elf's face that Brando was very unfamiliar with.
But Viscount Cauldell must have had a deep impression of it.
"Nine Luminaries Sword Art!?" Princess Gryphine was slightly shocked. "Cauldell, when did you …"
Princess Gryphine definitely wouldn't recognize Nine Luminaries Sword Art. Brando thought for a moment and understood that this was Cauldell's memory at work. This wasn't the Eldest Princess's shock, but that guy's. By now, he had already broken through the defenses of the two Knight and reached the Eldest Princess's side in one step. Then he grabbed her wrist.
The Eldest Princess struggled slightly but couldn't break free. She looked up and bit her lip as she stared at him coldly. Her silver eyes were about to spit fire. "Cauldell … kill me now if you can."
"If I kill you, Duke Arreck will forever bear the crime of regicide and treason, right?" Brando glanced at her. In that instant, he seemed to understand many things.
Princess Gryphine almost trembled. She looked up at him.
"Arreck is a member of All for One. Your Highness, your plan is exactly what he wants. He doesn't actually care about the throne. He just wants to overthrow this kingdom, "Brando answered softly.
He glanced at Bessidine. "You think there's still your sister, right?"
Her Royal Highness also glanced at Bessidine beside her. Her silver eyes were filled with complex emotions, but her tone had already softened. "Kill me and let Bessidine go. She truly likes you …"
"No!" Brando heard that voice wailing in his mind again. She's lying to you. She's in cahoots with her despicable sister!
"This pitiful girl."
Brando's heart sank. He glanced at the Eldest Princess. For a moment, he saw weakness in her expression but she quickly recovered her calm. Then he looked at Haruz and took in the sight of the soldiers in red and white robes who were pouring into the hall.
He had never experienced this scene before but it was very similar to what he remembered. The nobles had all died long ago. He just didn't know where Senior and the others were. Even though he knew this was a dream, Brando was still worried.
"Teacher, what are you talking about?" Haruz didn't understand.
Brando smiled at him but didn't answer. But in that moment, he already had a plan.
… (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to come to qidian.com to vote for me. Your support is my biggest motivation.)
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