CHAPTER 181: ACT 21 THE PAST KNIGHT (PART 2)_2

If the undead had emotions like the living, the ’White Knight’ Albton would probably be cursing now.

But little did he know, Brand’s familiarity with Erune’s military swordsmanship was limited to what he learned before reaching Level 30 in the original game. In the long years that followed, he had encountered hundreds of swordsmanship techniques, some advanced, some basic. But when it came to the swordsmanship he was most familiar with—

It was undoubtedly the Church Knight’s knight swordsmanship and Madara’s Black Cross swordsmanship.

Simply put, practice makes perfect.

Knight swordsmanship was the technique Brand used the longest in his previous life, while Black Cross swordsmanship was the one he saw the most. In his seventy to eighty years battling Madara in the game, Brand became as familiar with their common military swordsmanship as he was with eating and drinking.

Unfortunately, this didn’t mean that Brand was having an easy time right now.

Because under Albton’s overwhelming power, he couldn’t find a single chance to counterattack. No matter how experienced he was, it couldn’t overcome the agility of a 16th-level energy user. Sometimes, Brand couldn’t even catch the movements of Albton’s hands, relying solely on guesses based on experience.

Moreover, Brand quickly felt his stamina approaching its limit—if a person’s stamina drops below half, their strength and reflexes begin to decline. If it drops below one-third, it becomes nearly impossible for them to maintain their form.

And it had only been three minutes since the battle began—

Brand was already drenched in sweat, losing the ability to think clearly under Albton’s relentless pressure. Initially, he could still spare a glance at the battlefield, but as his stamina dwindled, dodging Albton’s sword took everything he had.

The frequency of their sword clashes increased.

It was a vicious cycle: the more he clashed swords with Albton, the more overwhelmed he felt. And the more overwhelmed he felt, the harder it became to dodge Albton’s strikes.

Brand was almost gritting his teeth to hold on. This endurance was almost unrelated to avoiding death—it was an effort to push through the exhaustion that rose from deep within his bones, the kind that made him want to give up entirely.

But for some reason, he suddenly thought of Frey and Little Roman, and the cavalry fighting alongside him. The boiling blood in his chest reignited his resolve. He knew it was a sense of responsibility, forcing him to stand by everything he had done and said.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, and then opened them to a scene cloaked in snow. At that instant, Brand snapped back to clarity, feeling a chill along his scalp as he rolled away in a graceless manner.

But the power contained in Albton’s sword finally erupted—

With one forward thrust, a surge of silver flames moved forward across the mountains, driven by the power of the lowest level of silver. It was like silver moonlight, advancing silently, splitting rocks and toppling fir trees.

From the valley upward, one sword strike cleaved a barren slope spanning nearly 150 feet.

The cold wind swept through, leaving the valley in a dead silence.

A brief silence.

Everyone was stunned. Though they had heard of the Second Power Level—the strength of silver—they had never seen it firsthand. Witnessing such a miracle, which seemed beyond human capability, filled everyone with a profound awe for sheer power.

This reverence was not just fear or despair; it was the worship of insignificant mortals for the overwhelming force.

Even Reto and Mano were frozen in place. They couldn’t believe that Brand had been fighting such a monster for so long alone?

But they had wasted time and failed to assist the young man in time—

Brand said nothing.

But the mercenaries felt a deep sense of shame. They realized the weight of responsibility that young man carried for each of them. The seemingly carefree youth had been fulfilling his promises with utmost seriousness.

If their previous admiration for Brand was blind, at this moment, the mercenaries felt a genuine sense of belonging for the first time.

But where was Brand? They couldn’t help but worry. Could he have survived such a strike?

The White Knight ’Albton’ sheathed his sword with a clear ring.

"Brand!"

Frey was riding her horse along the slope towards the battlefield where Brand and Albton fought, but she was too late. Just as she caught sight of the duel,

everything seemed to be over.

Frey’s sword clattered to the ground. She could hardly believe her eyes, the young man who had led her out of Buqi, who had shown her the world beyond, that shameless scoundrel.

Was this the end?

But then someone patted her on the shoulder. The future Valkyrie turned, stunned, to find Char standing there.

The young wizard follower was staring intently down the slope:

"Miss Frey, as long as I am here, it means the Lord hasn’t died."

"Wha...?" The ponytail girl was confused, not fully grasping Char’s words.

But she understood part of it—

because she immediately saw that familiar figure climb out from under the rubble.

Brand felt immense pain all over his body, as if he were about to fall apart. His shirt was completely shredded, his forehead was bloody, and his body was covered in countless wounds.

But he bore the pain and let out a satisfied laugh.

"Old man, you didn’t expect to miss that last move, did you—"

...

(PS. Good evening everyone, that’s it for now, good night!)(To be continued, for more updates, please visit www.qidian.com, support the author, and support legitimate reading!)