TL: Right now there are at least 2 a.s.signments that I want to complete at the very least before I increase my TLed chapters. There is one a.s.signment due next week, and 3 more at the end of this month. At the very least, I want to clear 2 a.s.signments by this week and clear off the other 2 major a.s.signments 2 weeks later.
Chapter 36 – Brendel’s preparation (1)
TL: This is the image that I received from my email by one of the readers. Some of the minor locations from Bucce to Bruglas isn’t written there, while the rest of the locations in this map aren’t really used yet.
map1
TL: So this is my environmental drawing that has been edited by my lecturer. I have been working on it for weeks and it keeps getting rejected, until my lecturer finally edited at least 3 sections of the image to show me the areas that could be improved on, and did it within in twenty or so minutes which made it so much better. It really makes me sort of wonder if I can ever do draw environmental drawings at his level, sigh (which is pretty much why I cut down on my chapters, I really need to put in more effort into drawing.). It kind of matches The Amber Sword’s world, maybe? Cough. I have to clean this up.
Environment
For the donated chapters, please forgive me and wait for a little longer while I finish my a.s.signments. For any outstanding donations until I get back on track, I’ll do x2 chapters of that amount + rounded up (currently there’s 2 sponsored chapters, so I’ll owe the donators 4 chapters + 1 chapter).
Finally, here’s the regular chapter for TAS.
——————- Bretton’s POV ——————
Bretton saw leaves of the evergreen trees the size of a palm on the, while he pa.s.sed by the courtyard. Legend depicted that every single leaf on the evergreen trees had the soul of a fallen warrior, thus there were evergreen trees planted in the army camps to represent the bravery and courage of the soldiers. (TL: Note, Bretton =/= Brendel.)
He stared at the leaves, his mind wandering back to his companions that had fallen in the war. For a moment, he did not even hear his father, Lord Haskel, a city councilor of Bruglas, speaking to him.
“When the rewards are distributed, I’m going to try and transfer you back to Bruglas. Didn’t you want to enter the city’s cavalry unit? My words still carry weight within the city.
It is still fine if you want to stay within your current army unit, the patrolling squadron of the Needle Forest isn’t at full roster yet. However, their formation follows the Arreck’s military formation, so it might be harder for you.
In truth, my thoughts is to wait for you to be formally knighted before I a.s.sign you a stable post within the n.o.bles’ parliament.”
Bretton gave a affirmative nod.
“But what do you think?” Lord Haskel looked at his son and sighed. His personality was similar to his own when he was young. He was confident but too proud. Even though it was not a bad thing at certain times, it was not truly a desirable attribute—
Within the wisdom that was handed down from the n.o.bles, ‘too much pride would easily lead to setbacks’.
Lord Haskel was 62 years old in this year. It was still considered a prime age, but his appearance was starting to look aged. His silver hair straightened out and was combed very neatly, while his sideburns were white. He was famous for being in the radical faction when he was young in southern Grinoires, but he was increasingly conservative and stable as he got older.
His attire was that of a normal city councilor, a long blue robe that extended to the ground, with a white breasted vest buckle, and a long black pair of breeches. He held a cane in his hand, and looked at his only son with a warm gaze.
Bretton looked at his father and said: “I think, I might want to go to the Basta Royal Cavalry Academy.” (TL: Hopefully I didn’t get the name wrong -.-)
“What?” Lord Haskel was shocked.
“I have heard news from Walter. There are four slots available. The formal guards might recommend me. The White-Mane army have their own thoughts as well. Father, I have to plead with you not to talk about this matter with the other n.o.bles.” Bretton explained. Walter was the vice-captain of the Silver-Winged Cavalry and a friend of Bretton. Walter was only twenty-three years old, and it was because of his father’s authority that he was able to take his current position.
“The news has been locked up really tightly. There has been no news from the parliament and the army b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. Still, this reward should not be affected have the royal crown’s interference, is there a change somewhere in the capital?” Lord Haskel frowned.
“I am not sure, but I am determined to take this opportunity if it presents itself.” Bretton said.
“Very well, it is good to learn more things. But remember this, our Wakefield family’s political direction typically lies elsewhere. When you attend the academy, do not go against the royal faction, but at the same time, you don’t have to worry too much about them.” Lord Haskel thought for a while and changed his decision at the last moment.
Bretton’s eyes returned to the courtyard. “Who would pay attention to an insignificant person like me?”
“Your words are wrong. Everyone in the Wakefield family is of importance. Your grandfather was the chief councilor in Bruglas, and even I am famed within the southern Grinoires. You’re my son and definitely would be no less than any of us.” Lord Haskel rebuked him.
Bretton’s expression was blank.
The pair suddenly stopped moving as they saw a young man approaching them. He wore a deep blue uniform, his side attached with a knight’s sword made in the 32nd year. His long silver hair extended past his shoulders, and there was an androgynous look with his pursed lips.
“Master Sergeant Tirste.”
“Vicount Tirste.” Lord Haskel quickly pulled his son to one side as he greeted Tirste.
The man who got called as Tirste paused for a while, and looked at the two men with a pair of eyes with the color of amethyst crystals. He nodded at them and wanted to move along, but as his gaze landed on Bretton, he suddenly stopped and gave a laugh, then continued on his path.
“Strange.” Lord Haskel said to himself as he watched the young man walk away.
“What’s wrong?”
“That boy is the illegitimate son of the duke. He usually cast his eyes above our positions, but he seems to be different today.” Lord Haskel answered.
Bretton looked at that person’s back and he did not reply. His face wore a pensive expression when he turned back.
———————– Tirste’s Pov ——————–
Tirste pushed the door of the Silver-winged headquarters open, and the commander, vicount Megeska, was staring outside at the arched window with the width of three men. The middle aged man with spots of white in his hair turned back when he heard the door open, and relaxed when he saw Tirste.
He took his pipe and pointed to the side, indicating for Tirste to seat there. “I can’t say that your arrival was quick, Captain.”
“That’s because I had to get rid of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who keep making trouble.” Tirste smiled and sat down.
Just like the rumors, Tirste was indeed the illegitimate son of Grinoires’s duke. But his mother was said to be from the lineage of the lost Silver Citizens, and he believed that he carried the Silver Blood as well. However, behind his facade of arrogance and cold appearance, he was considerably talented and skilled, otherwise he would not become a core member of the Unifying Guild. (TL: I’m not sure if I already wrote this before, but that fake Earl that Brendel encountered before was in this Unifying Guild.)
“Did you saw those men?” Megeska asked.
Tirste nodded. The young man inclined backwards, and used an even tone to continue: “The young man and that red beard Batum are insignificant people with the strength of an Iron-ranked fighter. There are nothing special about them, but interestingly they have a Bucce militia with them. Commander, there’s no need for me to repeat the news that you have already gotten a long time ago right?”
The commander inhaled deeply from the pipe and placed it down: “That girl is called Freya. Amongst the four slot, there was an indication that she must be given one. What do you think of that?”
“Interesting.” Tirste laughed: “Are you going to tell me that she’s an illegitimate daughter of someone powerful?”
“Please, what does that have anything to do with us?” Megeska said: “But that means that these men should not be considered as suspects. The person who killed ‘Tor’ should be at least a Silver-ranked fighter right? I wonder about the strength of that Leto person. I heard that the ‘Silver Dove faction is incredibly angry over this matter, and are pointing fingers at us, asking why we did not send a Silver-ranked or Gold-ranked fighter to guard that fool.”
The young man gave a snorting laugh: “That fool is just a subst.i.tute. When we have the chance to eliminate that famed ‘Wolf Earl’, there might be some blame to go around, but we don’t need any trash in our organization now. In fact, I wonder if Oberbeck noticed anything suspicious about his subst.i.tute.”
Megeska nodded.
“I also received some news when we investigated the refugees. There was a commotion within Fortress Riedon, and that position was along the n.o.ble parliament and the Pine Fortress. The details are probably known only to the n.o.bles, but sadly all those fools were completely killed.”
Megeska took another of puff from his pipe: “Do you think if Luc Beson knows anything about this?”
“Even if that tiger knows anything, he wouldn’t say anything about it. His goals does not align with us.” Tirste said a deeper meaning in his words.
“Indeed, regardless of the White-Mane army or us, he is someone who’s odd.”
“What do you plan to do now?”
“Isn’t this matter left to you, why are you asking what I’m going to do? Captain, your actions are straying a little from the rules right?” The commander was taken aback before he laughed.
But Tirste shook his head: “No, this matter is left to you now. There’s something else that I have to check about the transfers to the academy, and another matter I need you to help is a.s.sign me a position as a captain within the White-Mane army.”
“Why?”
“There is news about the Lionheart sword.”
“What, that’s fast. How did they get the news?”
Tirste grinned but he did not answer.
———————– Brendel’s/Tamar POV —————
After Freya stayed back in the Silver-Winged cavalry’s camp, Brendel went to the Bruglas market and joined up with Tamar who had been waiting for a long time.
Tamar was supposed to be one of Madara’s infamous person, but right now he wore a strange checkered long robe and stood under the scorching sun, and showed great respect to Brendel when he saw him.
“My lord, the things that you want are ready.” Tamar was carrying a heavy bag and pulled his son as he waited at the sides for Brendel.
His respect to Brendel was not because of his status as a lord, but because he was his savior. His son did not have that same feeling, and he looked at Brendel with admiration because of his status.
“You managed to buy it?” Brendel was surprised as he did not expect a common market within Bruglas to have an authentic Elven alchemist set. He merely asked Tamar to see if they had it, since the alchemist set from Ampere Seale could also be used, although the requirements were just barely met.
“I managed to rent it from the local alchemist guild, and they want twenty Tor coins.”
Even though Tamar said that, his heart felt it was difficult to accept.
[There is really no need to use such special equipment. Even when I was within the n.o.bles’ parliament, I used second hand alchemist equipment. This lord is good at everything, but he’s spending too much money.]
Brendel rubbed his forehead. He had forgotten about this matter, but it was good to actually procure it, especially when he would not lack money once his plans were executed.
He had his own plans that were different from Tamar’s thoughts.
[A poisoned dagger steeped in the poisonous sap from a Demon Tree (15 oz), a cursed crossbow (32 oz). Even though I have some fundamental strength, I need some killing trump cards that I can used in the shadows. The dagger can be sold to the n.o.bles thanks to the undetectable nature of the poison. The signs for the poison is similar to a sudden illness, and it’s the best way to scheme against anyone who’s below the Iron-ranked stats.
And the cursed crossbow is something that’s needed to kill a low-cla.s.s character. There’s a certain percentage to cause debuffs like Weakening, Damage Intake and other various debilitation effects. Higher-level characters find it easier to resist it, but anyone below the Silver-ranked level would easily display the effects. Luckily, the problem of getting all the rare materials like a soul of a high-ranked necromancer, is solved thanks to the fights outside Fortress Riedon.
It’s a ha.s.sle to make it because I need at least Rank 8 in Alchemy, but with the equipment and Tamar’s help, that’s +3 in total. I can make the equipment that I need.]
TL: As usual, if there are any Engrish mistakes, please inform me. I’ll take a look at editing this later on, this version should be considered a raw TL without proofreading.