He thought for a mont, stretched out his silver right hand wrapped in the Grasp of Bahamut, and grabbed the ball of black light. The Grasp of Bahamut is said to be the Dragon King's blessing and a product of inheriting the Upper Law. As soon as he grasped the thing, his brows couldn't help but lift slightly, "Huh, this thing..." Brand was instantly shocked, and a wave of ecstasy swept through his heart. He discovered that the Book of Mavikart was purely the remnants of opposing rules of order, which, when refined, turned out to be the sa substance as the magic power used to generate monsters.
Simply put, he found out that he could directly convert this thing into experience points that he could use! Brand almost shouted out loud. Compared to the level of the opposing rules of the Book of Mavikart, ordinary monsters below Gold level were re trash. This thing was being treated like a Boss and was close to the power of a demigod Boss.
Experience points from a Boss over Level 160!
And this wasn't in the era one hundred and twenty years after the Great Demon Tide, where evils were rampant, and Boss-level leaders in the World were reaching levels beyond 200. This was in the Sword Year, during the early days of the Black Rose War's outbreak. In this era, even Qian, who had undergone Demigod Transformation and Elental Enlightennt, would be considered a Little Boss, and soone like Andesa, stuck at Level 80 or 90, would be regarded as a leader of the World. "Martha above, am I dreaming?" Brand suddenly felt like he was struck by a great windfall. He casually extracted a sliver and got twenty to thirty thousand experience points, and the ball of black light seed unbothered by a tiny reduction in size. Brand roughly estimated that this thing must have at least tens of millions of experience points.
He couldn't help but exclaim a few tis, feeling as if he'd never had such good luck since crossing. Could it be the legendary blessing after surviving a great disaster? Of course, extracting experience from this thing wasn't easy because the laws of a Divine Artifact are very tight-knit, and extracting power is akin to peeling away the laws from it. From the start, Brand felt resistance, which, although it didn't impact him much, required so ti to properly absorb all the experience.
He thought for a mont and decided that the first thing to do was find a way to store this thing away. This is a rare treasure. Brand felt like he would wake up laughing even if he fell asleep holding it, enjoying the experience points of an entire mid-stage boss-level leader of the Magic Tide all alone; it was unthinkable. But to store it away, the problem returned to square one—
Where would he find a Dinsion Bag?
Dinsion Bags aren't rare in Vorn but they aren't cheap, and ordinary people certainly couldn't afford them. However, soone of the rank of Veronica or phisto would undoubtedly have one. Brand thought for a bit and decided to make Lord Grey Sword Saint pay up. After all, he still had to help him restore the country, so consider this an advance on the reward.
With the thought in mind, he imdiately climbed out of the pit, ready to find phisto to 'borrow' a Dinsion Bag. But right then, a familiar voice sounded in his mind: "Huh, is this a Divine Artifact Fragnt? How did you get this, little brother?"
This was the voice of the older sister, Otarais.
In fact, ever since he encountered the lingering will of the Dark Dragon Odin, Brand felt Otarais seed to be in a slumber. He had almost thought the Dark Dragon had secretly done sothing—after all, Otarais was under the Four Sages, and they had a dead enemy relationship. But unexpectedly, she 'awakened' at this mont.
"Otarais, where did you go earlier?" Brand imdiately asked, wanting to confirm whether Otarais had sensed Odin's existence.
"Call sister, silly. Of course, I saw that guy, and he should have felt my existence too." Otarais snorted softly, answering in his mind.
Brand couldn't help but curl his lips.
"Then I...?"
"You've accepted his legacy, haven't you? I knew that too." Otarais sounded unserious, despite the usual indifference of Wind Elves. Otarais's emotions were quite expressive, and Brand could tell she wasn't upset, knowing the Big Sister really didn't mind. However, he found it odd. Logically, people from the Four Sages and the Dark Dragon are absolute mortal enemies. For Otarais to hand him the Wind Queen's Ring, she must have chosen him as the heir. How could she not mind him accepting the legacy of the Dark Dragon?
But Otarais seed to guess Brand's confusion and answered, "Power itself has no right or wrong; what's important is the person who wields it. Would you believe your sister lacks even this bit of broad-mindedness? I have high hopes for you; otherwise, I wouldn't have handed the ring to you. Besides, I'm curious to find out what that guy's legacy is like—"
"Sounds like you admire that guy a lot?"
"Yes," Otarais did not shy away. She spoke with a hint of reminiscence: "He was, after all, one of our strongest opponents. Generally speaking, those who reach his level naturally possess personal charm. But even so, we aren't from the sa camp, and our beliefs are different. As they say, good and evil cannot coexist. But now we're all dead and past grievances have long since vanished, leaving only respect for our opponents—"
Hearing Otarais's answer, Brand couldn't help but fall silent. If one fights not for personal vendetta but for belief, perhaps it's truly deserving of respect. Yet history is history, and he cannot change it as an observer. Without living in that era, he may indeed never grasp those ideas unique to the ti.
"How about you earlier? Did he do anything to you?" Brand asked again, now concerned for the Wind Elf older sister's condition, given the notorious malevolence of the other existence in history.
The Elf Knight shook her head in his mind: "No, he just conveyed so information about the legacy to , which I didn't react to instantly."
"Information about the legacy?" Brand wondered what information about the legacy the Dark Dragon had to communicate with its mortal enemy. Although it showed respect for an opponent, an enemy remained an enemy. Could it be both parties' consciousness had reached the legendary communist level of comprehension?
That seed far too strange.
But Otarais appeared unwilling to delve deeply into the topic; she avoided it and switched to another subject: "Speaking of which, dear little brother, that guy seems to have awakened so ancient bloodlines in you, and now I believe you can learn so of my swordsmanship."
"What?"
Brand felt like another huge windfall had knocked him senseless. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, you're welco to visit Qidian (qidian) to cast recomndation votes and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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