volume 2 - Chapter 137 (1/2)

Chapter 137 – Gift

Brendel proclaimed himself as ‘Viscount Gunston’, a n.o.ble who traveled south from the north. The papers he had on him were given by the cripple Roen, and the craftsmans.h.i.+p on them was as perfect as the papers handed down straight from the capital’s parliament. Even the original Viscount Gunston would wonder if his papers were fake if he ever saw them.

When the riders’ leader received the papers and read them, he bowed politely and said: “My lord, my name is Colton. I will report to my superiors so they can arrange a meeting between you and Lord Trentheim. Would you allow one of my men to accompany you and let him direct you to the best inn in the city?”

Brendel nodded, and Colton quickly gave orders to his men to clean up the street, and got one of the younger riders to escort Brendel.

The capital of Trentheim was called Fohre. Its streets spread out like spiderwebs, narrow and many, and the roofs of the buildings were a spectacular crimson due to the red soil used. Colton’s subordinate lead them to an inn called The Brave Fist, a unique building that was high enough to allow its guests to look at the city’s grey outer walls.

With such close borders to the wilderness that was outside Mother’s Marsha protection, humans had to rely on the city walls to defend against magical creatures, beasts and demi-races.

Brendel and the others only had to wait a few hours after their meals at the inn before Baron Graudin’s invitation arrived. Although it was only a small group of Graudin’s men who escorted them, when they arrived at Graudin’s manor, he found two rows of elite soldiers standing at the gates. They wore heavy armor, equipped with lances, and were neatly lined up and without expressions on their faces.

[A grand entrance indeed. It looks like Graudin is trying to threaten me. It might even frighten a real viscount—]

The youth ignored them and walked past the gates. There was a ma.s.sive man who immediately blocked his path and tried to grab his shoulders. However, before he could even touch Brendel a girl with fiery red hair grabbed his wrist and jerked it away. Her eyes looked like she was locking on to her prey.

“Get lost.” She said simply.

She took a step forward and rammed into him, causing him to crash into the wall of soldiers. There was immediate wailing after a loud crash.

“Cease your actions!” The soldiers were surprised and immediately tried to block Brendel from progressing any further, but they were hurled backwards by the youth the moment they touched him.

It was as if they were facing a dragon and not a refined n.o.ble.

[70 OZ in the strength stats. Even in king Ansen’s era, I would qualify for a spot in the kingdom’s cavalry. Just a little more and I can be in the elite group. In this era, I am even on par with a captain…]

Brendel continued to advance quickly, and there were constant metallic cras.h.i.+ng noises as the soldiers were thrown at each other like bags of flour. He never looked back and finally stopped at the second gate.

It was shut tight. Perhaps the person who was meant to open it was lying on the ground, so he did not waste any time, and kicked down the door just like how he had done it countless times in the game.

The door crashed onto the ground with an impressive bang, and the empty hall was presented before Brendel.

============= Graudin’s POV ===============

“My G.o.d, this man is such a brute!”

Somewhere in the mansion behind an arch window, was a middle-aged man who was peeking through the curtains with piqued interest. Even though he sounded impressed, his eyes were cold and discerning. He was holding onto a goblet with bright red liquid in it. He shook his hand and allowed the viscous liquid to bob up and down.

Brendel would recognize that man in a heartbeat if he saw him. It was all too easy to recognize Graudin’s prominent eagle-like hook nose. His eye sockets were deeply inset and his skin was pale as though he was sick with malaise, giving him the uniquely sinister look which was prevalent within the Randner’s family. The only thing that seemed alive was his bushy moustache that ended in a curl.

“A youth of twenty years and barely qualifies as a Silver-rank fighter.” Graudin stroked his moustache: “What do you think?”

The lanky man behind him shook his head: “He did not use his full strength. That girl with red hair isn’t simple either. If we were to fight, the odds will be split in both ways. I do not suggest fighting.”

“Of course I won’t,” Graudin laid his goblet down onto the windowsill with some annoyance, causing it to gave out a light clink: “He must have some considerable backing if he dares to openly challenge me in my own territory. But even if I don’t find fault with this matter, I need to show him a lesson.”

He lowered the curtains and turned around: “What of the task that I instructed you to do?”

“The men have been sent out. If there are no problems, they would be back this very evening.” The man bowed slightly.

“Good.” Graudin threw his goblet away with a fling on his hand, and it landed next to a dead woman. The red liquid immediately splashed everywhere, causing a foul stench to spread throughout the room. The dull-brown carpet slowly turned to a red hue once again.

“This matter is requested by my father. Make sure everything is perfect.”