Brando's Beginning

Not go to Green Village?

That was impossible. Brando knew something that would have a major impact on his plans later. Whether to stock up on food or verify that conjecture, he had to make a trip to the village that Madara might already have occupied.

After thinking it over, he casually asked in return, "If I don't go, do you know how to get started? Infiltration and reconnaissance aren't things you can just wing. They require a thorough plan and advance scouting."

Infiltration and reconnaissance had once been the specialties of those who devoted themselves to extensive training in the shadows, such as Nightingales and Hunters. As a warrior, Brando did not know much about them, but he had at least formed parties and gone on missions with people like that. With only those memories, he was already far stronger than these Militia.

Freya shook her head. It wasn't that she didn't understand, but Brando's injuries were simply too severe. "You can tell us what we should do. Leave the rest to us—"

Brando wasn't surprised by Freya's refusal. He knew that at a time like this, he had to choose the method of persuasion he was best at. For example, the wisdom of a veteran warrior: "Roman."

"Yes!"

"Give me your sword." He held out a hand to the side.

"Here you go, Brando." Roman presented it to him with both hands, brimming with confidence.

"Thanks."

Brando took the sword and drew a breath, doing his best to adjust his condition to its peak. He was in a weakened state with less than 40% health, and Corpse Poison prevented him from using another 20% of his strength flexibly. In other words, he could use at most 0.6 Energy Level.

Roughly equivalent to a fourteen-year-old boy.

"We don't have much time. To prove that I'm capable of taking part in this expedition, why don't we use an ancient and traditional method to decide?" He drew his sword. "The way warriors converse."

Our protagonist swept his gaze around and found everyone wearing an expression suggesting that they had heard wrong. Martha above, among Buchi's Militia this time, Freya was unquestionably the best swordswoman. Even Essen had been defeated by her.

Brother, do you really understand how terrible your condition is right now? They all arrived at the same question in their hearts.

"Brando, don't joke around." Freya sounded somewhat angry. She was quite confident in her swordsmanship. If Brando thought he could defeat her in this condition—did he think he was a veteran who had experienced the November War?

Brando said nothing. He merely used his longsword to make a gesture inviting her to attack.

The Ponytail Girl was so furious that her vision nearly went black. She had thought there should be a limit to recklessness, but apparently reality did not agree. She ground her teeth and resolved to teach Brando a lesson with facts.

Freya raised her sword and, without a second thought, delivered a vertical slash. Her fundamentals were exceptionally solid. Her sword was steady, stirring up a thin gust of blade wind.

Brando parried with the back of his sword. The immense force transmitted through it nearly dislocated his wrist. However, he immediately leveled the blade and sliced down along Freya's edge. The young man did not have much strength, but it still startled Freya—she had not even entered attack range, yet his sword was already about to reach her guard.

Though unwilling, the Ponytail Girl had no choice but to withdraw empty-handed.

In truth, Freya's disadvantage was not undeserved. Brando's move was extremely famous in a warrior's swordsmanship. It came from Cruz's battle-formation swordsmanship and was called Cato Counter-Cut in the game. It was advanced martial swordsmanship. Although Brando could currently only imitate it by relying on this body's original swordsmanship foundation, it was more than enough to deal with a half-trained swordswoman like Freya.

Brando remembered that he himself had traveled a thousand miles and gone through all sorts of trouble to learn this move from a mercenary back then. The price had been two barrels of Madara's bone liquor.

Now that he thought about it, those two barrels of bone liquor had been worth it.

Freya retreated. To deal with Brando's attack following close behind, she gripped her sword with both hands and gritted her teeth as she pressed his sword down to one side. Her reaction was quick, but she was not clever enough. Brando had already taken a step back. By the time she realized it, the longsword in his hand was pointing at her chest.

Freya clenched her teeth, knocked Brando's blade tip aside with the hilt of her sword, and followed up with a slash. But to Brando, that slash was already completely disorganized. It was merely an action born of unwillingness to admit defeat. With a light tap, he made her lose her balance and fall to the ground.

Dust billowed into the air.

"Looks like I've convinced you." Brando withdrew his sword and replied flatly.

Freya raised her head, her face filled with disbelief.

She was not the only one. Of the nine people in the Buchi Militia squad present, other than Roman, who remained perfectly unsurprised, every one of them wore a stunned expression. Was that really Militia swordsmanship? It was no worse than the veterans in those regular legions!

"How could this be?"

"It's nothing strange. I was the best swordsman among the thirty-third class of Brags Militia." Brando answered casually. "And now it's your turn, Little Finis. Let's solve your problem."

Little Finis looked panicked and hurriedly shook his head. "I—I'm still not going. You go."

This kid. Brando could not help shaking his head.

After agreeing with the others on the time to regroup and the meeting place, Brando quickly set out with Freya and Essen. Time was pressing them, forcing them to race against the clock.

Green Village was roughly east of Clear Lake, and it was not too far away. Especially as the three of them ventured deeper, they could see through the dense canopy several murky columns of smoke in the eastern sky growing darker and darker. The horizon was gradually turning black. It did not look like a good omen.

Following Brando's memories and suggestions, they approached the area possibly occupied by Madara from the village's northern side. The facts proved his guess correct. The Undead Army had only just swept through here, leaving behind nothing but scorched earth.

Looking down at the village below, where flames rose amid the embers and thick smoke rolled through the air, even Freya's last sliver of hope was extinguished. Madara's army truly seemed to have gotten ahead of them. Catching up and reaching Ridenburg now had become a pipe dream. She could not help glancing at Brando, wondering what was going through the young man's mind.

But Brando was hiding in a thicket, watching squads of Skeleton Soldiers pass outside the woods while carefully counting the trees in a patch of low woodland ahead. He counted to the twelfth and memorized the tree's appearance—

The twelfth beech south of the low woodland in Green Village. He remembered it clearly. There should be a key buried underneath it. In the game, it had been part of an independent quest that allowed entry into a crypt in the village.

Who had discovered that quest again? It seemed to have been a priest. But that was no longer important, because he knew it was the tomb of a Templar Knight. If everything followed the game's progression, there should be some good things inside. But his target was the sword in the crypt—Gleaming Thorn.

It was a treasured sword infused with the power of light. At his current level, using it would be equivalent to having a miniature undead slayer. Of course, the legendary divine artifact he had mentioned afterward was something he could only imagine.

Only after confirming this did Brando turn back. Pointing outside the woods, he asked the two people beside him, "See it?"

"See what?" Essen and Freya both stared blankly.

"The number of Bone Frames on patrol. Twice, four times—it looks like there are two of Madara's squads in the village now." Our protagonist answered with practiced ease. "Twenty-two to twenty-four Skeleton Soldiers and two Liches."

"That many?" Essen was startled.

"Fortunately, that isn't the main point. The main point is that they control the graveyard and the square. The Liches left behind will certainly use necromancy there. They'll receive a continuous stream of reinforcements. That's what we really need to be careful about." Brando continued.

"This is desecrating the dead!" Freya angrily clenched her fists.

"Indeed, but they have the right to do so." He sighed, then pointed toward the woods not far away. "See over there? That pasture? You can use the fences and the shadows of the bushes to sneak in. There should be a cellar beneath the barn in that pasture. It shouldn't be hard to find, and it shouldn't have burned down either. You can hide there. Once it gets darker, we'll come out and act."

The girl nodded instinctively, but then realized something was wrong. "How do you know?"

"I stayed here for a while." Brando answered smoothly. He was not lying—he simply had not stayed here in this world.

"Then what are we going to do?" Essen asked.

"Wait for me there. I'll come find you tonight. Those monsters should be focused on raising Skeleton Soldiers and won't bother you for the time being. If you really attract their attention, pay attention to your breathing and heartbeat—undead can see your life force." Brando reminded them point by point.

"Wait, you're not staying with us?" Freya caught the detail sharply.

"I have something of my own to do."

"You—" She was about to speak, but then she saw the young man pat his sword, meaning: Don't forget that I've already convinced you. But how could that count? Freya opened her mouth to argue, but Essen pulled her back and signaled for her to watch out for the Skeleton Soldiers patrolling below on Madara's behalf.

"Do you trust me?" Brando asked softly.

Freya shook her head, but after hesitating, she nodded.

"That's good enough. Go now. Hurry. Don't worry, I'll come back safe and sound." He answered seriously.

Freya glanced at him, wanting to say something but stopping herself. In the end, Essen reluctantly dragged her away. Brando watched as they passed through a mottled stretch of woods and hid in the bushes below, then followed a section of fencing past the long meadow, finally slipping safely into the pasture.

Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.

Brando turned back and looked at the patch of low woodland below. Tension immediately enveloped his heart. This would be his first time adventuring alone in this world. It might look no different from before, but here there was no failure—only death.

Speaking of which, he actually preferred acting together with Freya and the others. But how was he supposed to explain that key? He could not exactly say that he had come here and buried it before. Even Essen probably would not believe such a clumsy lie, let alone the meticulous Freya.

After weighing the options, he still decided to act alone.

"There's no difference, old friend. Just treat it as starting over." He rubbed his forehead and could not help encouraging himself inwardly.

(PS: I almost reached twelve chapters for the new book. Can I manage three updates today?)