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Chapter 29: Tumen’s Legacy
Roma and Freya extinguished the campfire and followed Brandon as he bolted out of their shelter. Both women guessed that Brandon's sudden urgency might be connected to the blinding black light they’d witnessed earlier, though neither understood its origin. Only our future Miss Merchant had glimpsed the Soul Gem in Brandon’s hand. She also knew about a peculiar ring he carried—a magical artifact capable of summoning winds to fight for him.
Ah yes, he’d given her a similar ring too. Roma adored the stark black-and-white spiderweb pattern etched onto it. Such decorative motifs were rare in Buchi—and indeed across the Bright World—but perhaps that rarity only made her treasure it more.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder: did this ring possess the same mystical power?
These mysteries surrounding Brandon intrigued Miss Merchant all the more. As she watched his silhouette standing against the pale morning light of the valley, she felt an undeniable sense of awe. Life with Brandon seemed perpetually steeped in wonder and enigma.
“Brandon, what happened?” Unlike Roma, who adopted a carefree attitude—content simply to follow wherever Brandon led—Freya was far more serious. The long-ponytailed girl believed it her duty to share in Brandon’s burdens.
“It’s nothing major, but we need to leave this place as soon as possible.” Brandon replied, suppressing his unease. With a sharp shing, he drew his elven blade, its cold glow reflecting off the barren rocks. Truthfully, he had no idea how to explain the concept of magical absorption reactions to Freya or Roma.
In essence, it was a high-level magical item spontaneously siphoning loose energy from lower-tier sources. Yet such interactions rarely occurred between artifacts below the 40 oz threshold. Explaining these nuances in layman’s terms would take time he didn’t have.
Freya studied him with concern but refrained from pressing further.
Brandon scanned the valley below. For now, it appeared quiet, but his instincts screamed danger. He instructed Freya to don her armor while Roma prepared the grappling hooks. Freya, already clad in her combat suit, began assembling pieces of the Half-Body Armor of the Wind Sovereign. Though untrained, she managed well enough, though speed was not her forte.
Beside her, Roma fidgeted nervously, excitement mingling with anxiety. She wanted to help but feared Freya’s sharp tongue. While the two were close friends, Freya’s temper was legendary, and Roma doubted her assistance would do anything but hinder.
Brandon wasn’t in a rush per se, but he feared the magical ripple might incite chaos among the monsters lurking in the valley. That would spell disaster.
His thoughts drifted back to the mysterious card in his hand, sending a shiver down his spine. He hadn’t expected Jared’s most prized possession to be this card—not the Lustrous Stinger or any other relic. A magical artifact exceeding 40 oz… What did that even mean? He remembered encountering something of this caliber only in his fifth year within the game.
Throughout the chaotic ages, humanity and elven wizards struggled to imbue magical items with the Second Level Strength. This challenge persisted until the Year of the Dusk (Chaos 471), when a prodigy finally solved the problem.
That prodigy was Tumen, the Elemental Emperor.
Tumen’s invention of the sacred insignia technique revolutionized the process, enabling the creation of artifacts surpassing the 40 oz threshold. Without this breakthrough, such powerful relics would remain impossible to craft.
Brandon suspected the intricate patterns on the back of the card were sealed sacred insignias. But they bore no resemblance to the Sovereign of Wind used by elves, nor the fire god insignias of the Cruze people. Even the sea king insignias of Elantal looked different. These markings were far too complex for modern craftsmanship—unless this was an ancient artifact?
Before he could ponder further, the card abruptly floated upward, emitting a jet-black beam into the overcast sky. Moments later, another column of light erupted from the southeastern mountains.
Resonance!
Brandon froze, dumbfounded, as the scene unfolded. Panic surged within him. This reaction was far louder than before. Even Madara’s forces miles away must have noticed. Resonance could only occur between components of a set. Never in a million years had Brandon imagined the card in his hand belonged to a set—and that another piece resided somewhere in Xavier Mountain Pass, within resonance range.
Of all the rotten luck…
“Brandon?”
“What’s wrong, Brandon?” Roma and Freya chimed in simultaneously. Even they, inexperienced as they were, realized the card in Brandon’s hand was trouble.
“I’ll explain later. Is your armor on?” Brandon shot one last glance at the valley below, his tone urgent.
Freya nodded.
The intense magical disturbance had already drawn shadows of monsters into the valley. Brandon spotted several Juvenile Withered Beasts crossing the dried-up ravine below. Without hesitation, he ordered Roma and Freya to shed unnecessary weight and move eastward along the cliffs as quickly as possible.
Food and water, vital supplies under normal circumstances, were abandoned without regret. Brandon carried only essential gear and a few coils of rope. Each person kept a single torch; everything else was discarded. Time was of the essence. As they progressed, more Withered Beasts gathered in the valley below, as if the entire Xavier Mountain Pass had come alive.
The sight sent chills through Brandon. This was a full-blown monster uprising. Fortunately, they were positioned high on the cliffside. The first wave of creatures wouldn’t reach their former campsite for at least ten minutes. Even if a few Withered Beasts spotted them below, their numbers posed little threat.
What truly worried Brandon was whether the treant patrols on the eastern cliffs would alter their routes due to the sudden commotion. He needed to reach the midpoint of the canyon before the Golden Magic Tree’s offspring arrived.
Only there could he devise a way to eliminate the first patrol.
He recalled this patrol should currently be passing the riverbank. Even if they turned back immediately, it would take them two hours to reach the canyon’s midpoint. Having run this dungeon countless times to farm the Heart of the Golden Tree, every detail was etched in his memory. His sole concern was discrepancies between reality and the game.
Thankfully, they reached the location just in time. Perched atop the ridge, they spotted a group of vine-wrapped monstrosities approaching from the east. Both parties noticed each other almost simultaneously. Treants stood nearly one and a half times taller than humans, their bodies entangled with aerial roots. Blind yet equipped with membranous organs at their joints, they detected sound with precision.
They came in two forms: adults and juveniles. Adult treants were agile climbers, capable of traversing rugged terrain effortlessly. They represented Brandon’s greatest threat. Thankfully, this patrol consisted of ten treants, only one of which was an adult—a detail consistent with his memories.
“Get to the summit before they do,” Brandon urged, beads of sweat forming on his palms. Atop the mountain lay a massive boulder. In-game, explosives could loosen it, sending it crashing down to crush the patrolling treants and block the valley. Lacking dynamite now, Brandon relied instead on the Ring of the Wind Sovereign—a tool far deadlier than mere explosives.
Glancing at the small plateau above, he exhaled sharply. Normally, he could outrun an adult treant to the top easily. However, the numbing toxin coursing through his veins had reduced his agility by 0.3 units, forcing him to rely on Freya and Roma.
Though unsure of his plan, both girls nodded determinedly. The gravity of the situation was clear, even without explanation. Every second counted.
Both sides raced against time. Freya and Brandon fared slightly better, while Roma lagged behind, her face pale and breath ragged. Still, thanks to their head start, they reached the summit moments ahead of the treants.
But barely.
No sooner had Brandon and Freya scrambled up than the adult treant appeared. A level 22 monster—Brandon didn’t need a calculator to know his chances were slim. Yet retreat wasn’t an option. Sitting idle meant certain death.
Quickly, Brandon tossed the Ring of the Wind Sovereign to Freya. “Attack the rock’s weak point. Use the command ‘oss.’ Understand?”
Freya caught the ring instinctively, startled. “Brandon?”
“Put it on your index finger. I’ll hold off the monster. Hurry!” Initially, Brandon considered assigning the task to Roma, freeing someone to cover him. But glancing back, he saw Miss Merchant still struggling far behind.
The consequences of laziness, he thought wryly, shaking his head.
Turning back, Brandon took a deep breath, his body stiff with tension. Though outwardly calm, fear gnawed at him. Treants weren’t Withered Beasts—they boasted formidable first-level strength. Without the ring, Brandon doubted his ability to withstand them.
Strength: 4.5 units. Constitution: 6 units. Agility: 2 units. High defense and resilience. Corrosive toxins coating their skin rendered conventional weapons useless. Proficient in ranged attacks and binding abilities. Weaknesses: fire and slashing damage. Brandon mentally reviewed the stats. On paper, this adult treant resembled an Elite Withered Beast. Yet he knew the disparity in combat prowess was vast.
As if reading his mind, the treant’s vines sprang to life, lashing out like steel cables. Brandon rolled aside just in time—the once-limp tendrils now pierced the rock with a hiss, releasing acrid smoke as the corrosive toxins ate away at the surface.
Corrosion—the treants’ deadliest trait. Ordinary blades couldn’t harm them; instead, the corrosive skin damaged weapons upon contact.
Realizing its strike missed, the treant whipped its vines sideways, targeting Brandon again. Cursing inwardly, he rolled once more, dodging the whip-like assault. Wherever the “cables” struck, stones shattered and flew.
A shard grazed Brandon’s brow, drawing blood. Ignoring the pain, he seized the Lustrous Stinger during the brief lull and lunged forward.
But then, he froze.
A line of emerald text materialized before his eyes:
“Summon the Holy Sword?”
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