Therefore, he needed to give these people confidence, he was their source of victory. As long as he was there, these refugees, rcenaries, and remnants of the White-Maned Army would know they still had hope for victory.
Frey glanced at Bran with a complex expression, and only reluctantly stepped aside when she saw him nod.
Only then did Bran mount his horse with Char’s assistance, but to be honest, the young man was so weak as he mounted that he doubted if he could even hold the reins tightly—he couldn’t help but think that a few days ago, he was just an ordinary person, he didn’t even know on what grounds he had to persist so stubbornly—but what surprised him even more was that with such imnse willpower, he managed to stand on the horseback like a javelin.
As if to outsiders, this young general had rely changed to another horse after another victory.
But only Char, Frey, and the nearby Reto and Mano saw the cold sweat on Brand’s forehead and his slightly trembling arms—yet Bran said nothing, not even glancing around, forcing himself to maintain a stern and indifferent expression.
Reto and Mano could not help but exchange a glance upon seeing this scene, then deeply bowed to Bran and backed away to continue instructing the cavalry regrouping. They had intended to co over and assist Bran, but seeing this scene, they understood that Bran neither needed nor would allow their help.
They might not have fully understood Bran’s character, but at this mont, they at least understood that this was a man with pride ingrained in his bones; this pride was not arrogance, but confidence in his own abilities.
This pride was like a flag—
Holding back the cold sweat on his forehead, Bran rode toward Sir Albton, who was half-kneeling on the ground, casually discarding the Stone Gargoyle Talisman that had cracked into two halves—with Stone Gargoyles, unlike injuries, the talisman’s effectiveness was lost once the creature it controlled was killed in battle. Though it could possibly be repaired, the complexity of doing so was greater than simply creating a new one.
This was probably the most precious magic item he’d lost in days of fighting, and besides that, his Protective Gloves were also rendered useless—though they could be barely repaired, the final outco would likely be unsatisfactory. And the one responsible for this loss was none other than ’White Knight’ Albton, one of the Four Horsen of the Apocalypse, now kneeling before him, infamous in the ga.
Before this, Bran would never have dread he could defeat such a general of Madara, even in his wildest dreams. But the absurd had beco reality, and there Albton knelt quietly, soon to consu the last of his Soul Fire, even without anyone finishing him off.
Bran knew everything about Albton’s life.
He was born in the Year of Walnut, into a noble family, and naturally beca a knight, joining the then Free Cavalry Brigade, participating in battles against the Northern Cruz people. There he experienced the golden era of his life, growing from a re knight to a competent commander.
He commanded several renowned battles, earning significant reputation within the kingdom, then completed his life, sohow awakening as a Dark Undead afterward.
Much of what Bran knew about him in the ga was history, as Albton was one of Madara’s top generals of his ti, not sothing easily defeated. Therefore, Bran didn’t know much about his questline.
However, based on today’s battle performance, Bran was very suspicious there might be a hidden questline involving this person, especially considering so details he ntioned about oaths.
And Bran knew most hidden quest rewards in the ga were extravagantly generous. For example, the Wind Queen’s Ring he held was just the beginning of a hidden questline, yet it was a Level 20 piece of equipnt, indicating its significance.
But the hidden quests he was familiar with mostly started from Level 40, peaking at Level 70-80, with very few available at Bran’s current level.
And Albton was no minor character either—
Thus, Albton’s secrets piqued Bran’s interest. He rode up beside Albton and, sparing him due to his past identity, asked:
"What do you have to say, Albton?"
A brief mont of silence.
"Young man, do you... recognize ?" The kneeling Undead Knight moved slightly, asking in a hoarse, low voice.
Bran shook his head, "I don’t know you in person, but in a way, I do. The Albton I know was a hero of Erune, who now rests beneath the earth, in the embrace of Lord Martha."
"So he was you, but you are not him."
Albton coldly snorted, supporting himself with his sword and creakingly standing up from the ground.
"By right, you should be dead by now, young man, but you’re not," he responded. "Therefore, it seems your victory was not by luck, and you know the history of this shell. So, what do you seek from ?"
Seeing Albton rise, Frey was startled—she knew how weak Bran was. Just as she hurried to protect Bran, Char held her back.
She was taken aback, and Char slowly shook his head behind her.
While this young Wizard Follower didn’t understand the relationship between her lord and the Undead Knight, it seed certain they knew each other.
Given this, and Bran’s character, he wouldn’t take risks lightly.
Bran was sowhat surprised by Albton’s response, but after a mont’s hesitation, decided to test the waters with his gaming experience: "You previously asked if I had royal blood, now I answer you, what if I said yes?"
The Undead Knight sneered.
Bran couldn’t help but sigh; it did seem different from the ga after all. But at least it was more real than in ’Amber Sword’, he thought self-deprecatingly.
"It seems you’re determined to take your secrets to Lord Martha, Albton," the young man sighed, realizing the trigger for the quest was elusive.
But this ti, Albton shook his head.
"Not necessarily."
He said. (To be continued. For more details, please visit qidian, more Chapters await, support the author, support genuine reading!)
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