Chapter 493 - Volume 3
Devard who walked out from behind Marquis Yoakam was tall, displaying his heritage from the Arreck people. But what was odd were his fingers. They were at least one quarter longer than normal people. There’s a saying where people born with unusual characteristics would be someone special, and he truly fit that description: becoming one of Arreck’s three Sword Grandmasters, and was the protege of the famous Swordmaster Olaf, and then surpassing his own teacher after developing his own Striking Eagle Sword Style and becoming a master himself.
He wielded a thin longsword that specializes in stabbing. It attacks like a poisonous snake, integrating well with his own sword art.
“Just what is he doing here with Yoakam? What is he planning?” Brendel sighed, raising his own sword as well. He could feel Magadal tugging him from his back, “Sir, this person is an Elemental Awakener. I’m afraid you’re not his opponent.”
Brendel had already known of the girl’s identity since long, but upon hearing her say that, he could not help but be curious. He had heard that she was an easygoing and kind soul, and used her influence in the Holy Cathedral to take in a large number of war refugees. However, in the end, she died a harsh death. I think she was poisoned by her husband,Brendel thought.
Brendel sighed in his heart, and smiled at her, “How do you know I’m not his opponent then?”
The princess was widened her eyes. What the hell? I’m worrying for you an yet you saying stuff like that. Don’t be so arrogant!
Devard was swinging his sword, apparently impatient, “Are you done preparing?”
But it was a duel.
Devard finally found time to wipe away his sweat. He looked up at Brendel, in disbelief that the youth’s swordsmanship was better than his. It was clearly the Military Swordsmanship, but not at the same time. When Devard was younger, he had seen Sword Saint Darius pointing out the flaws of the Military Swordsmanship, and had seen an improved version of it before. But the youth’s Military Swordsmanship even outclassed that. Every strike Brendel threw at him was so oppressive that he felt like he was on the battlefield.
And to be able to do that, Brendel must be in the category of a Sword Saint.
Devard stared at Brendel and could not help but ask, “Who are you?”