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Chapter 48: Infiltration
The Dragon of Darkness was the mortal enemy of the Four Saints in the Holy War, particularly King of Flames Geert, who bore a grudge for the loss of his kingdom. Though Brandon was puzzled by Baba Sha’s words, he couldn’t possibly accept her claim without risking placing himself on the opposing side of the entire Bright World. “Odin, the Dragon of Darkness? I know witches regard him as the harbinger of dark fate, but it has nothing to do with me.”
He glanced at Baba Sha, only to find the old witch still trembling on the ground, her forehead pressed firmly against the floor. Brandon paused, realizing he had overstepped. He had forgotten that in this world, people held gods and great powers in immense reverence—even enemies wouldn’t dare speak of them disrespectfully.
As a player, Brandon struggled to fully embrace this mindset; half of his indifference stemmed from his own personality. When mentioning these names, he naturally exuded an air of equality—something that seemed trivial to him but appeared deeply disrespectful to Chael and Baba Sha. Yet, given the circumstances—the witch’s overwhelming fear and Chael’s lingering awe—this casual demeanor only deepened their confusion.
Brandon recognized the shift and shook his head. “Never mind. Think what you will, but don’t interfere with me. Stay here until sunrise.”
Baba Sha remained motionless, her forehead still touching the ground.
Brandon gestured to Chael, who stood frozen in thought, indicating there was a hidden door beneath the table. The young man hesitated before moving the table and lifting the carpet. Sure enough, beneath lay a thin layer concealing a steep staircase. By now, Chael had grown somewhat accustomed to his lord’s uncanny foresight, chalking it up to forces beyond human comprehension.
He found the handle, pulled it open, and revealed a pitch-black, narrow stairway leading downward.
“Are we going in now, my lord?” Chael asked.
“Of course. What else would we do?”
“Hmm, isn’t there anywhere else in Ridenburg where we could level up?”
“Do you think magical items grow like cabbages, ready to be picked up at will?”
“Cabbages?”
“I meant leeks—you know what those are, right?” Brandon slapped his forehead, realizing another slip of the tongue. This world wasn’t entirely identical to the one he knew.
“Of course! But when you say it, my lord, it sounds so poetic. ‘Cabbage’ must have ancient roots—it even sounds similar!” Chael grinned.
Brandon chuckled despite himself. Still, he knew of at least two other secret locations in Ridenburg with potential rewards: the underground chapel and the famed Tower of Wind. However, both were guarded by level-restricted sentinels far less negotiable than Baba Sha. After weighing the risks, he decided to abandon those plans for now.
His ultimate goal was to hone his strength while collecting treasures he knew about—but time was tight. His immediate priority was survival, not accumulating stats. Once the First Black Rose War ended and before Eruin’s civil unrest began, he’d have ample opportunity to execute his plans. With experience and top-tier equipment, becoming one of Vonder’s strongest didn’t seem impossible.
Brandon never believed power came solely from skill; as a player, he understood the triad of attributes, equipment, and technique was indispensable.
He casually picked up the box containing elemental crystals and dumped its contents into his pouch: twelve wind elements, one fire element, and only three azure water elements. These crystalline structures were physical manifestations of free-floating elements, artificially shaped into uniform prisms, each holding a unit of energy.
After looting Baba Sha’s collection, they behaved like seasoned thieves, grabbing her magical candles before descending into the tunnel. Witch candles were enchanted items capable of teleporting users wherever light could reach—a secret known only among witches, though Brandon also possessed this knowledge.
The Usson Castle tunnel stretched approximately 1.5 kilometers, mostly narrow enough for only one person to pass through. In slightly wider sections, three human-sized venomous spiders lurked—common pets for wizards serving as guardians. Baba Sha likely placed them here to curry favor with Duke Goran-Elsun. While intimidating to ordinary folk, they posed little threat to Brandon, offering a mere nine experience points combined.
The tunnel’s exit led behind a row of wine racks in Usson Castle’s cellar. Designed as an emergency escape route, the passage wasn’t heavily sealed. Brandon quickly located the mechanism, sliding the rack aside along its iron rails.
Emerging from the tunnel, both men exhaled deeply. No matter how well-ventilated, the accumulated dust in such confined spaces was unbearable. After walking for so long, Chael felt as though his lungs were coated in grime.
“Fifteen minutes have passed, my lord,” Chael announced, checking his silver pocket watch.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What?”
“I originally planned to raid Duke Goran-Elsun’s treasury, but that’s no longer feasible. Nobles typically hoard art and jewels in their villas—not much use to us.”
“My lord is decisive indeed. Few can remain unmoved by treasure.”
“No, you misunderstand, Chael. I mean we’ll grab a couple of items along the way. I’ll tell you which ones are genuine later.”
“…”
Chael marveled at his lord’s subtle greed, unaware that this trait stemmed not from Brandon’s character but rather his ingrained instincts as a player.
They ascended the stairs silently, halting conversation instinctively. Brandon extinguished the candle, handing it to Chael, and gripped the door handle leading out of the cellar. Activating Strength Surge, the handle shattered with a crisp snap. Pushing the door open, two guards stared in shock, hands halfway to drawing their swords. Before they could react, Brandon’s blade flashed in a graceful silver arc, sending their weapons clattering across the room.
Realizing their peril, the guards attempted to flee, but Brandon pursued without hesitation, dispatching them with swift strikes to the back.
This was Brandon’s first kill.
He felt eerily calm during the act, almost detached. There was no blankness in his mind—only clarity. Their deaths ensured his and Chael’s survival. It was a fight to the death, and thoughts of Roma or Freya never crossed his mind. Survival instinct alone drove him.
But afterward, a suffocating weight settled over him. He steadied his breathing, standing motionless as blood dripped from his sword onto the stone floor. His mind swirled with fragmented thoughts, creating a strange vacuum. For a moment, he felt disoriented—initially seeking excuses, then merely trying to console himself.
“My lord?” Chael noticed his unease.
Brandon raised a hand, signaling he was fine. He had intended to drag the bodies back into the cellar but lacked the resolve. Avoiding eye contact was all he could manage. It wasn’t fear of killing—it was the shock of taking a life.
Oddly, he found solace in the fact that killing yielded no experience. He wasn’t sure why this comforted him; logically, he needed experience desperately. Yet the idea of gaining XP from murder unsettled him profoundly.
Reflecting, he concluded that despite everything, he was still human—and couldn’t stomach profiting from another’s life.
“We split up now,” Brandon said, exhaling deeply.
“Your orders?”
“I’ll confront the Earl directly. You sound the alarm from the opposite side.” As he spoke, Brandon mentally counted to one hundred, regaining composure by thirty.
“Sound the alarm?”
“Did you forget? We’re launching a frontal assault—the louder, the better.”
“And then retreat via the tunnel?”
“No, we must fight our way out.”
Chael was startled. “Why?”
“The guest quarters are on the upper floors. Our only escape route is the tower roof. If the White Mane Legion brings archers, we’ll need Lady Marsha’s blessings.”
Chael nodded, preparing to leave. He wouldn’t ask where the alarm bell was—if he couldn’t handle basic tasks like gathering intelligence, he didn’t deserve to be a squire. Knights and their squires were expected to possess fundamental combat skills.
But Brandon stopped him. “Wait, why the rush?”
“What is it, my lord? More instructions?”
“Yes. Upstairs, take the left corridor at the end of the hall. It’s lined with authentic treasures. Don’t hesitate to take anything portable and easy to sell.”
“…”
Chael stared at him for a moment before replying, “I retract my earlier statement, my lord.”
“Which one?”
“The first. Not everyone remains unmoved by treasure. It should read: everyone is moved by treasure.”
“No, you don’t understand, Chael. Soon, I’ll bear responsibility for supporting Roma and her aunt—it’s a man’s duty. Providing for a family isn’t easy—I have my reasons.”
“Save that excuse for Duke Goran-Elsun, my lord. Don’t worry—I studied appraisal in Buga. I’ll pick the most valuable items for you.”
Brandon blinked, then smirked mischievously.
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