THE AMBER SWORD

 

 volume 1 - Monologue

The militia’s non-commissioned officer did not lie to me. With the necessary experience it can save you at the critical juncture.

If it was not that month’s training, that seemingly unavoidable sword that lunged towards me during my deep sleep would have been fatal. My senses brought about something akin to a flash of electricity, which tore me away from the deep sleep that I was in.

What greeted me during the moment when I open my eyes, is the reflection of a sharp long sword which seemed to pierce my heart with a freezing chill.

It really makes my heart tremble!

To tell the truth, I do not know how I was able to react to that. Perhaps it was an instinct that was developed from the long training, and I twist my head to the sides at the last instant, and that sword stabs down and brushes past my ear.

I escape that in the nick of time.

Then I see the sword’s design embedded onto a metal plate amidst the shining light reflected from the sword; the black rose that bloomed furiously, which can only be from Brumand.

I pause for a while before recognizing it.

“Madara’s undead troops!”

It is as if a bucket of water was thrown onto me, and I completely sober up, fucking hell, why are these damn shit bastards appearing here?

I clearly remember I am taking my leave at the countryside Bucce. This land was left behind by my grandfather, and I received my old man’s permission, and stayed here to take care of this old house.

My mother was a Kadireig, and it is probably the only bloodline within my body that is close to nobility. On the other hand, my father was a traditional middle-aged ordinary miller, and he did not resemble my grandfather who participated in the famous November’s war and received the Candlelight emblem.

And I, am simply an ordinary youth who can be found anywhere within the kingdom. My biggest dream is to join the army or go out to adventure, and bring back great wealth.

Then perhaps at the end of things, I will find a beautiful wife to spend my life with, a perfect life indeed!

But I am digressing. Right beside my bed is a fearful undead trying to kill me, and it made my heart pulse with dread. Fortunately the things that my instructor taught me back in the days still remained in my mind, and are not forgotten because of my panicked thoughts. I recall in an instant that my sword is placed beside my bed, but that skeleton will surely not let me have the chance to take it. I realize now that this is a terrible habit, I must remember to put it below my pillow the next time.

These thoughts happen within moments. Immerse Yourself in the Storyverse: N♡vεlB¡n.

I instinctively pounced towards the sides from the bed, and knocked that gleaming white skeleton onto the floor. Right now I remember my instructor every sentence from my first combat lesson:

“Remember, these soldiers from Madara’s lowest ranks, solely use the ‘soul’s flames’ to move. They are slow, lacking in intelligence and they are weak.”

But before I can recall everything, a huge force came from below, as if I am not restraining a skeleton but a bull. In any case, a force that was beyond me threw me towards the sides, where I end up knocking onto the shelves. I can hear the grating sound made from my bones and shelves that would have made people pale. The intense pain throughout my body makes me grind my teeth, but I quickly shake that my dizzy head as I still remember what I need to do. In my blurring vision, the skeleton has already gotten up and intends to pull the sword that he stuck in.

His movements are apparently very rigid, but his strength has nothing to do with the words “weak” right?

But I turn my body and prepare to run as that bastard has already pulled out the sword and become a dangerous existence again. And I know my strength is not his match, or perhaps even three of me would not even make him ‘sweat’ one bit.

And the most important thing is I have no weapon.

He is in between my sword and I. Of course, I do believe that this is just a coincidence as skeletons do not possess the intelligence.

I half crawled, half ran towards the door, but I am unable to restrain my voice when I approach near it.

“Fuck my luck!”

That is because the door is broken down before my eyes, and a ray of bright moonlight poured into the house. It is certainly a artistic, picturesque moment, if it is not shining upon another white skeleton.

I note that it is another lowly ranked Madara soldier, and in its hand is a firmly gripped steel longsword. On its bones is armor made in the style of Madara, and on top of that it was wearing a black and heavy helmet.

The most depressing thing, however, is the fact that it is using a pair of obsidian eye sockets with dancing red flaming pupils to look at me.

Apparently I have been locked on as its target.

In front of me is a tiger and at my back is a wolf. This is certainly a bad omen.

Respected holy mother Marsha, I am unable to help myself but pray to my goddess in my heart. I am only 19 years old, I cannot simply die a dog’s death in a poor rural village.

That’s right, I have not even confessed to the girl I liked! The moment I think about that bewitching young merchant girl, I feel my heart pounding even faster. Her home is just opposite to me, and I cannot let my heart’s beloved fall into danger.

I quickly calm myself, and try to think of a way to escape. As my thoughts spin quickly, the teachings of my instructor played out in my mind.

“You can fight battles only when you are calm!”

This way of thinking is certainly applicable to my situation, but my hands have no weapon! I can’t possibly fight a wild animal with my bare fists right? I pant as I anxiously stick my back to the wall while my eyes search desperately everywhere. Even though this old place is not a desolated hut, but the living room has nothing that can be used as a makeshift weapon.

If only my grandfather is a high ranked noble. I had visited Earl Remington’s home, and their living room was five times the size of this place, and there were many shields, swords and axes hung on the wall. If I am there, I can surely find a weapon that suits me.

Furthermore, my skill with the sword is not bad at all. I am not bragging about this, that old instructor personally commended me, and said I was the most outstanding out of that entire batch that time.

Even that bugger from Remington is not my match at all, although I’m envious of him to have a father who is a prefect. If my father is also a prefect, I am definitely able to enter the garrison forces.

It is certainly pointless to talk about these though. In any case my sword is not reachable thanks to that skeleton. Even though they cannot run and move rigidly, their speed is equivalent to a grown man.

If this happens on the training grounds I bet I can toy with them easily, but in this narrow space I’m going to get cut down.

As I mope around, the skeleton in my bedroom walks out, pauses for a while, then quickly walk towards me. I subconsciously step backwards, and strike against something hard.

I quickly figure out that it should be a painting that is behind my back. This painting is passed down from my grandfather’s generation, and it is a family heirloom. That cripple in the Black Pepper Street once wanted to buy that painting with ten gold coins, but it was rejected by my father.

My father is a stubborn man, but I am not the same like him. I had frequently thought about selling this painting if I reached my lowest point, buy a pretty horse, and go adventuring in the capital with that girl with a merchant’s dream. If only I am not facing an event like this right now.

I have reached the end of the line, this family heirloom is going to save me right now. I turn around and tore the painting with its wooden frame down. I can hardly care if I am going to ruin it even if it is worth at least ten gold coins. I suspect it is worth even more, as that cripple in the Black Pepper Street is reputed to be stingy.

Ten gold coins is a lot of money, the largest sum of money I have seen is only ten silver coins.

I cannot help but draw a deep breath, my hands are shivering like crazy. I prepare myself to throw the painting at that frightening undead, and slip by it while it defends itself. I will get the sword next and smash these two skeletons to bits with my sword skills.

Of course I can also use it as distraction and run to the streets. But I have no guarantee that the outside is not crawling with this damn shit. Dashing outside empty handed is completely asking to be killed. So I steeled my heart and find it is sometimes better to be braver.

Even though this is the more ideal outcome, perhaps it did not care at all and just eviscerates me, and I can go meet Mother Marsha soon enough.

I cannot help but think whether they will give me a plague,

“Poor Brandel, he is so dead wrong.”

I shiver and shake my head to get rid of this horrifying thought. Cough cough cough, I am not going to die like this.

I glance at the gray looking painting in my hands, seriously, is this worth ten gold pieces? I wonder if that cripple will find it a pity if I throw this out?

That frightening undead is already before me, and I did not have the time to regret over the loss of ten gold pieces and the chance to adventure with the merchant girl. I have thrown at it without thinking.

My throw is strangely accurate, the painting flies towards the skeleton in a straight line. Damn, that stupid bastard really raised its sword and strike that down. That grey painting went with a ‘pssszzt’ and split into two.

What kind of ridiculous strength?! But the instructor did not lie, these skeletons are certainly lacking in intelligence.

While my mind comments on the resulting events, I have already rushed out.

My bedroom is not far now, thank Mother Marsha, I only need to take a few more steps to be able to see my sort peacefully lying there. That sword is also a family heirloom. My grandfather took it to battle, and it was said that he was a squire to a knight who presented the sword to him.

This sword should be from Year 32. It has the emblem design of ivy on it, to commemorate the victory at the highland fight in Grinoires.

That year, his majesty changed the knights’ longswords’ form, from two arms length to one and a half, and the armguard’s bronze accessory was changed to common iron with ornamental designs. This was done in order to adjust to the cost of ‘November War’ which was dragging on.

Indeed, this is a knight’s sword. Hmph, just wait till I get that sword.

“You fucking Madara shit bastards, you’re going to suffer now.”

Notes: Ch 0 is Brendel’s pov. I think he dies, actually.

Chapter 1 – The person in the dream.

The initial posting of this chapter occurred via N0v3l.B11n.

“Warning: Severe hemorrhaging, Imminent death.”

“Warning: Heart function deteriorating, Imminent death.”

When Sophie woke up, his mind was still reverberating with the loud warning sounds after that dire battle. It was a sound like a saber cutting across his mind again and again, causing him to have a splitting headache. (TL: Yes, Sophie is male. Don’t look at me, that’s the author’s choice.)

That’s right, he remembered he should be in a game with his friends from ‘The godly force’ defending the Orrgesh mountainous region against the Madara’s undead army. The ashen skies were howling with the freezing winds, and uncountable shadow creatures were streaming down from the dagger-like mountain peaks. The forces were without end in sight as if they were a black tidal wave. The huge army were comprised of thousands of skeleton, and there necromancers hidden within them, as well as skeleton dragons and blood curling wraiths circling in the sky.

Surround on all fronts, they were definitely doomed.

His first reaction was to curse in his heart, that bunch of twat bastards from ‘The flaming thorns’, never mind their incompetence, they even had to dragged their allies down by allowing the enemies to surround their rear, this was fucking horseshit!

He then finally had the heart to check his status. It was a delightful surprise to find that he did not die, as the Madara army tended not to leave anyone alive. But he immediately creased his forehead. His injuries were a little too ridiculous. Not only did his heart dealt a fatal blow, he even had carrion poisoning.

Wait, carrion poisoning?

Did he not already complete the mission to gain the ‘Pristine physique’? Why would a body from the Silver descendants get affected by this low grade dark status? Bug? What the heck are you doing, devs?

He did not have too much time to question this point, the youth coughed weakly and lifted himself up from the grey dirty floor. He thought that it was a small matter to be afflicted from the weaken status, and it was enough to find a priest to get rid of it. The urgent thing is to stop the bleeding before he dies. Even though he was not an elite gamer, but he was certainly a veteran and he understood the situation just by checking things out.

Sophie groaned once and pulled off the skeleton which only had half of its body left and pinning his body. These low level soldiers were like air to him. Come to think of it, this was already the forty-fourth year into the second era, and Madara was still conjuring up these low leveled grunts. Other then wasting soul magic, they were completely useless. Just as expected the undead wizards’ brains from Ogador were affected by the negative energy and rotted away. None of them know what change is.

He even had the mood to complain, but he realized in an instant he actually had trouble pushing the skeleton away. Just as expected, the punishment from having a weakened status is nothing to sneeze at, he was able to easily push away a bone dragon during normal times.

Sophie cast his mind back to when he nearly died. When was it? It’s almost close to a few months now. ‘The godly force’ battle prowess was nothing to laugh at, if it was not for the useless bunch of people from ‘The flaming thorns’, he probably would have continued to keep his undying record.

Once he thought about this point, the youth could not help but felt waves of depression. The holy church alliance’s epic failure would certainly bring up a lively discussion on the forums.

“This bunch of Madara thieves!”

Sure, he could castigate all he wanted to, but he still needed to find a way to stop the bleeding. At this time a healing pot would be the best, and if that was not possible, a bandage would also suffice. These things should not be lacking in the battlefield. Normally the bags from grunts doing the thankless tanking were left alone. The stuff inside them are mostly healing pots and bandages, especially bandages. He even saw a noob carrying a bag full of bandages.

What a laughing riot, did he think carrying bandages was going to save him from death?

He subconsciously prepared to climb up, but as he turned his body, he was stunned.

Wait, was this the Orrgesh mountain region?

He should have seen this scenery of dystopia before his eyes: White naked spikes that jutted out from the steep slopes, littered with corpses and vultures flying all over the battlefield, the broken Grays flag with a bright cross fluttering on the hilltop. But this was not what he saw.

There was no ear-piercing northern wind blowing through the Orrgesh region, no wraiths flying across the silent shadows, not even the dry, bone-chilling air.

It was like a hallucination that he was still in Orrgesh. And when this hallucination vanished, he came to realize he was sprawling on the floors of a quiet and broken old house. The smooth wooden planks were nailed in onto the ground, and there was an eye-catching pool of bloody scarlet liquid......

He could not help but paused there, and unconsciously touched his chest. A series of penetrating pain interrupted his actions, and he yelled loudly with his teeth bared. This blood was from him, this injury was from him.....

But where was this? He felt the house was slightly familiar to him. On the first floor was the living room and kitchen, and on the second was the corridor leading to the various bedrooms. The cellar was in the basement.

Yes, this was building design in the Aouine’s southern region, and even though this house was a little old, it was not something a commoner can afford to live in. One could guess that the former owner of this house had some form of status.

Aouine’s southern region. Sophie went into a trance.

How long ago was that memory? Gesund’s mountains and the melodious flutes from Bucce’s bordering towns were like a distant dream.

But did the lands not belong to Madara now? In his memory, the Aouine kingdom had long perished, yes, it was during the third Black rose war.

“Why am I here!”

“Wait.....”

“Bucce....... Bucce....” Sophie repeated this name.

That’s right, he remembered.

His name was Brendel and born in Bruglas. His blood was half Kadireig which came from his mother, but he did not appear to be noble just because he had a noble’s blood. That was because his father was a commoner. Even though his grandfather participated in the November War and received the Candlelight Emblem, ultimately it was just a knight household that has lost its lustre.

No!

Sophie’s heart raised a series of alarms, what the hell was all these settings. No, no, he is Sophie, a Chinese citizen.

But a voice in his mind immediately told him.

“You are Sophie, and you are Brendel.”

Immediately a cold dread washed over Sophie’s spine. He held his breath as he found there was a little something extra in his memories. Brendel’s memories poured into thoughts like a tsunami, or a stranger that intruded without permission.

Sophie breaths quickened, and his pupils widened. He quickly remembered that hopeless sword swinging from that frightening skeleton. He tried to shrug off that scene, but as his memories piled up, he got mentally exhausted instead. His mind throbbed painfully and his forehead was full of perspiration.

Hah. He suddenly recalled the event of a big battle. The Grays Church knights fought a fierce battle against Madara who surrounded them and pushed them to the brink of despair. He remembered that ‘his character’ was killed by a necromancer.

After that green light swept over him, the world turned to darkness.....

That was how the game was set up. The death will persist for twelve hours, but could someone explain to him why a normal death in the game led him to here?

To this world?

His mind was a scattering mess. If there was a word to describe his current train of thought, it would be ridiculous.

Ridiculous!

He understood what happened to him. he got frigging teleported to another world!

His soul crossed over to his world onto a dead person called Brendel.

No, more accurately it should be combined into one...

Sophie grabbed onto the floor planks tightly. His fingers’ joints were a little numb. He looked at his own arms. They were a little long and there was sign of sickness from his pale skin. Even though he was prepared for it, he could not resist a jump in his heart. His skin should be a healthy yellow beige color descended from the Mongolians, and not something like this.

His heart raced as he became flabbergasted. Even though he had the entire nineteen years of the former owner’s memories, it could be said he did not know anything about what he was experiencing right now.

He could feel that the Brendel youth had in his life.

His aspirations, his desires, what he loved, what he hated.

It was like he had just been reborn and finished nineteen years of life. His everything was like Sophie’s everything, as if it was one and the same. These two very long dreams that merged with each other made him felt lost.

“I am Sophie.”

“But I am also Brendel.”

A sense of sluggish exhaustion gushed out from Sophie’s innermost heart, and covered his entire body in an instant. In the end, he gave a long sigh and calmed down slowly.

[Forget it, since things has come to thus, just let it slide.]

Sophie could not resist shaking his head, and looked at his arm:

“With this meager strength, he had the nerve to claim he was number one in swordsmanship.....” He could not help but mock himself when he thought of Brendel. Unexpectedly he felt a scintilla of relief.

[It’s fine, even if I left that world I have no regrets left behind there.]

Suddenly a flash of lightning streaked across the darkness. Sophie felt that it was the Gods above giving him another chance, and ignited hope within his heart.

That was because he recalled a particular event.

That’s right, Aouine. This was a doomed kingdom within the game, and in Brendel’s memory was the ‘Year of bustling summer leaves and flowers’. This was the 375th year of the first era, and the game history was written to the 44th year of the second era! Sophie’s body trembled when he found himself becoming like a prophet because of his memories.

Indeed, no one was more familiar with what was going to happen in this world. As one who did not accomplished anything in his past life and escaped reality by hiding in the gaming world, what was he going to do in this one to make up for it?

Sophie became dazed.

This was the ‘Year of the bustling summer leaves and flowers’, and the opening year of the First Black Rose war. In that war Aouine was completely decimated, but that was also the era where a new renaissance happened.

And he was also one who experienced it first hand. He remembered that his first choice was also Aouine when he first played this game. He was a complete newbie who grew in such a war.

The curtains were raised thanks to the start of this war and accompanied by Aouine’s one sided defeat. The situation was only reversed only when the Bruglas army arrived. Sophie’s memory of that dire battle was deeply engraved. He had also followed the forces, and the survivors were less than one out of ten.

He was no more than a common person, be it the past life or this life.

Brendel’s skills with the swords are literally pointless. The sudden assault from Madara was something out from a classical textbook. Swift, merciless and silent, and when this ancient kingdom reacted from it, the entire army within this region had received a cataclysm.

And on this day, Brendel must have encountered the Madara’s scouts. Sophie suddenly felt an alarming chill climbing his spine again.

He could only display his ambition after surviving.

He immediately comprehended that he needed to save himself by finding something to stop the bleeding. The youth struggled towards the empty side corridor. As he examined the design of this house, it resonated with his imagination. He was well acquainted with the building design precisely because he had the most unforgettable time spent here.

“Aouine, here I come again—” Sophie whispered softly in spite of himself.

TL: Kind of a speed translation, I guess. I just wanted to get it out there this was the main protagonist and not CH 0’s trolling (kind of). I’ll fix any mistakes later.

Chapter 2 – Sophie’s world.

Even though this house was old it was immaculate. The former owner had cleaned it very well.

Sophie raised his head to look at the half skeleton that he pushed away earlier. A pile of broken bones sat quietly there. Brendel’s counter attack before his death resulted in the only casualty amongst the undead scouts. He knew that these soldiers indeed lack intelligence, but the necromancer controlling them was not. This mistake could not be attributed to the youth’s fault, because he did not know about this at all.

During this peaceful era, there were not many who knew about this.

That sliced painting laid flatly on the floor. The skeleton’s soldier’s cold sword was not far away. Sophie’s pupils dilated slightly. The Madara troops most likely intended to attack straight after the scouts retreated as they did not even pack the place up.

But this certainly conformed to Sophie’s memory about the War of the Black Rose.

“Hmm?”

Sophie raised his eyebrow a little. His gaze laid about the sliced painting. He did not see wrongly, there was a hidden layer on the painting frame’s surface.

Wait, the ancestor’s painting? Sophie suddenly remembered, perhaps this was the famous painting of Bucce?

He immediately struggled over with strenuous effort, and vigilantly kept his ears open at the same time. Sophie knew that the necromancer that killed Brendel was of the lowest level, but even it was more then enough to do away with a normal person.

Within the ‘game’, the low level necromancers were able to use the novice ranks of Black Magic, able to conjure up ghouls and skeletons in the nearby cemetery. They are naturally crafty and experienced in sneak attacks. It could be said that they were a big threat to people who did not understand them.

But Sophie was different, because he probably understood them more than they understood themselves.

He laid on the ground and tore the painting frame open. A clink rang out as a ring rolled onto the ground. At this time he could not help but took a breath lightly. The design of the ring was too familiar to him. The ring that was made of silver glimmered slightly in the dark. In addition to the looping appearance, there was a Holy Phoenix symbol on the center of it.

Such a design was rarely seen in the Aouine southern region.

This was the northern Sanorso’s national emblem.

Sophie carefully rubbed the ring. This was the famous Ring of the Wind Empress, a mission reward for the ‘Bucce’s painting’, but this mission vanished along with the next patch. Ultimately the people who knew and completed this mission were very few.

Sophie was not one of them. He only heard of this tale before. In the legend, this was a fake keepsake belonging to one of the four saint, Delutte, how did Brendel’s grandfather had this?

The Ring of the Wind Empress’s effect was Agility+1, and it could expend the energy within to launch a wind bullet to strike at the enemies in front. In the game it was able to absorb a little energy every ten minutes, but it was unknown whether it was the same here.

He looked at the ring and his heart raced for a moment, even forgetting the dangers of his surroundings. This ring’s appearance had partially answered his guess, that this world was one that he was familiar with.

Sophie exhaled without being able to suppress himself. His current mood were swayed from the succession of events, but his hesitation was short and he slowly put it on his forefinger. Magic rings only worked when worn on the forefinger or thumb. In Roens, the region between the thumb and forefinger were called by the Talan witches as ‘The domain of sacred mystery’. They believed that it was where mana was gathered in the human body, and many gestures were evolved from that starting point.

Naturally to Sophie, that was merely a game rule that he adopted as a subconscious behavior.

“Bang!”

He was about to test the effects of the ring, when a large sound in the first floor transmitted over and made him turned his head abruptly.

Sophie’s heart was startled and immediately became alert. It was possible that an undead made that sound, and even when it was not, there was the possibility of alerting the enemies outside. He quickly abandoned the painting in his hands and retreated against the wall intuitively and then carefully gazed into the living room below.

He instantly saw a suspicious figure.

It was a young girl wearing a simple leather dress who carefully approached inside. She looked around to the left and right, but despite her tense appearance she did not pay attention to what was above her. She tightly gripped something like a hammer used for masonry with slight difficulty. She seemed to be searching for something based on her looks.

Sophie sighed.

He coughed. It was not very loud but in this empty house it appeared to resound loudly.

The girl was evidently startled and raised her head, her face awfully pale. In his heart, the young girl could be considered as a beauty. Her chestnut hair was bundled up in a dignified fashion, but her silky smooth forehead along with thin long eyes made her look enchanting. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, with her eyes clear but bewildered. Her nose was pointed and straight, and one look let one knew that she had a fiercely independent personality.

She had a special quality about her but she definitely could not be called a lady. At least when one saw her gripping the masonry hammer, with her leather dress hanging a cowskin bag found in the southern region used by merchants, they could not view her as a noble girl from an upstanding family.

The young girl quickly saw Sophie and relaxed instead. She let out a long breath and patted her chest, and displayed a beautiful smile: “So it’s you, Brendel, you scared me.”

“Miss Romain, how did you come in here?” Sophie felt a headache coming up when he saw her.

This was a girl that Brendel had always adored. She and her aunt lived in the opposite house, and she usually had some quaint aspirations, for an example, she wanted to go out to the outside world to become a travelling merchant.

Sophie thought her view did not make any sense. A traveling merchant in Aouine was not a respectable job, and some of the citizens grouped them together with conmen and thieves.

In the Anson sixth century, there was a time when these people collaborated together and were greatly despised, and even named as ‘People who had two mouths and three hands.’

The two mouths meant they were glib and good at deceiving. The three hands meant they did not kept their hands to themselves, often stealing and doing unclean things. They could be said to be one of the biggest great threat to public order. when Sophie was a newbie back in his era, eight out of ten missions were about them.

“I climbed into your window from your kitchen outside, ah that’s right, your house window is really small! It nearly tore my dress.” The young girl complained as she bent her waist to fix the corners of her dress.

“Nobody let you in to come in from there right!” With the inheritance of Brendel’s memory, Sophie had a certain immunity to this girl’s personality, but he could not help but grumble in his heart.

“I’m not asking you about this,” He shook his head: “I’m asking you, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“I’m worried about you, Brendel,” Romain answered while she looked around, her expression incredibly curious: “You did see it right, this skeleton?”

She noticed it too? Sophie saw that the girl’s eyes were on his chest.

“You’re injured?” The future merchant girl titled her head and blinked.

“Yeah.....”

“Let me see,” She grabbed her dress and ran up noisily up the stairs, and clawed at the youth’s hand which was pressing against the injury, “Come on, take your hand away, what are you covering it for, your wounds will get infected!” She grumbled, and peered at his wound.

She drew a sharp breath and raised her head: “This is such a terrible wound!”

Sophie felt the girl’s cold hand grabbing his own, and his heart skipped a beat. Even though he knew this belonged to Brendel’s feelings, he did not make an effort to stop it.

“It’s fine.....”

“Fine—, are you mad!?” The merchant girl gave him a look of reproach, then she dug the cowskin bag hanging on her leather dress: “Just wait a little, I think I brought bandages....”

Sophie looked at her with interest.

He knew that the things in her bag were her precious treasures. Over half of them were strange things, the seashells from the seaside, glass marbles of different colors, a bronze whistle, old coins from the ancient past, and various other things. Most of them are not worth any money, but there were rarely seen in this region.

This future merchant girl’s biggest interest was to dig things from this pile of old stuff. Even though they had no money to speak off, she always managed to buy cheap and rare things that she loved.

He held Romain’s hand and shook his head: “Let’s go into the room and search, it’s too dangerous here.”

“I’m not afraid of these bones,” She glanced up at him as she finally found a first aid box: “Do you know how to tie it? I don’t know how to do it.”

Sophie opened the box and retrieved bandages and hemostatic cotton, and paused for a while in confusion. He originally planned to find these emergency supplies, but his consciousness still treated this world like a game. Once he applied the bandages in the game, it would automatically stopped the bleeding and replenish his blood, but he suddenly realized doing it in the real world was a professional skill. He could not possibly randomly go round his injury a few times right?

“Brendel, do you want me to try?” Miss Romain looked like she’s about to lunge at him.

“Nope.” Sophie quickly rejected her. Even if he had nine lives, he should not waste it like that.

He suddenly felt that this last resort was not a bad one, if this was how the game did it then just do it like the game. If he died he would just blame the gods. He bit one end of the bandages and took off his shirt, then wrapped the bandages from the side across the injury round after round. He was at least a veteran at doing this inside the game, and so he could be considered as well trained, and he carefully avoided to tie too tightly.

But he promptly stopped.

He saw a light green number, +1, slowly floating from his injury.

At that moment it was like a bomb had suddenly blasted in his mind and rang in his ears. He could not remember what he should do next. But he immediately reacted to it, and shouted in his mind like he was Professor Xavier: “Stats! Stats! Oh my gosh, just come out right now!”

He waited with a heart filled with expectations and dread, and after a second, a series of data appeared and floated on his arms, legs, joints, torso and his heart.

Strength 1.0, Agility 2.0 , Physique 0.9

Then another set of data appeared in his eyes like a ghost suddenly appearing:

Intelligence 1.1, Will 1.3, Perception 1.0

Overall power rating 1.0, Element (Sealed)

These set of data and lines of words, were like a waterfall gushing out, and poured forth into a translucent window panel:

Brendel, Human male, Level 1 (Strength type body: Physical, Close combat)

XP: 1 (Commoner level 1 —-, Civilian soldier level 1

Health (Weakened): 60% (Bandaged status, 1 HP will be recovered every day)

Skills

Commoner [Basic knowledge (Level 1), Geography Knowledge (Level 0), Local knowledge (Level 1)]

Civilian Soldier [Military Swordsplay (Level 1), Grappling techniques (Level 1), Tactical Theory (Level 0), Military Organization (Level 0)]

Just as expected, just as expected!

Sophie wanted to say that the feelings of a normal person who just scored five million dollars would probably react the same way like he did.

Was this a dream? The initial posting of this chapter occurred via N0v3l.B11n.

No, he knew that a person within a dream would not be able to think so logically, and very few people would even think they were in such a dream.

Then was he still in the game?

No, the current year was the 2nd era of the 19th year.

The young man felt his mind was in a fine mess. All the strange thoughts sprang out in a rush and made him felt a little giddy. But Sophie shook his head and understood that it was reality.

Mother Marsha, do you really exist here?

Sophie could not help but prayed heavily in his heart to the the ultimate goddess. He stared blankly at the virtual data reflected on his retinas, and could not help but ask himself:

“Isn’t this your world, Sophie? What else did you want?

Yes, as a veteran who had over 130 levels, what else could he ask for? Experience, he had them. Knowledge of the future, he also had them.

If these things did not allow them to control his own fate, then he really would have committed suicide by smashing his head against the wall. But truly, the feeling of a confident heart was so good, so very good.

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