Vol 2 Chapter 67

Act 67Brando's Sword Art (Part 1)

The Chablis Lantern Grass Hotel is located on a cliff facing east of the highest part of the town, like a huge arched wooden hall inhabited by wild heroes and deities in classical mythology, standing on top of the rock, experiencing wind and rain Beat, the water dipped into the solid wood and has now become dark. The hall is down, and the gray cliffs are lined with dense rows of window holes. From a distance, this unique landscape is like a huge hive or a dragon cave on the cliff.

But in fact, it was a guest room.

In the room in which Mane Wolf was staying temporarily, the door was pushed open a quarter of an hour ago. The experienced mercenary commander lifted his head from a sketch of the Chablis area. He heard a noun from his narrative, and thick and thick eyebrows could not help but pick-he was wearing deerskin gloves Holding the magnifying glass with the bronze handle in his right hand, he already asked, "Article 314 in writing?"

"'In a formal mission, if the two mercenaries are in conflict on any of the goals. An attempt should be made to temporarily merge the two parties as a joint agreement. As for the details of the merger, the two parties should agree on them.'"

An old man, who had been pale, sitting on a rattan chair by the windowsill, replied. The old man looked intently at a large book with a red cover almost four inches thick, and seemed not interested in the topic.

"Master Lewoods, how can this be extended?"

"Not bad," the old man replied.

"Okay, let me first see where the guy is sacred," Makalu waved to the young man standing at his desk, and said, "Go, let Reddy try him," but he stopped right away. The other party: "Wait a minute, has the kid Econa been found?"

"No news, Master."

"Okay, I see. You go." Makaro shook his head, he snorted, and murmured, "This time I must make the boy look good. It seems that I usually like him a little too much, go on I'm not going to explain it to the adults in the future. "

The old man shook his head slightly as he read a smile on his face.

...

"You're Brando?"

"My name is Brando." Brando looked up, looking at the young man nearly one head taller than himself. His hair was that rare pure white, his eyes were indeed clear and transparent gold like amber, his face was feminine, but some were like women.

Yabuli? Brando thought to himself that the only impression on this minority living in the country of Heaven seemed to be the young silver-haired swordsman who was active on Warnd's side about thirty years ago, Gurekai. S.

He expected that the other party would not accept his request so easily, but he did not expect that the 'Maned Wolf' Macaroo sent such a young man to test him. To be honest, with the exception of the Revealer and the Chosen, the young people of this age who are almost as old as Brando, few can beat him at this moment.

The strength of level 23 has been regarded as the upstream of the black iron. Moreover, the professional level 15 is the first threshold for any profession. Once this threshold is crossed, the achievement of the attribute addition of the profession begins to enter the stage where the first-level power is excessive to the second-level power.

In fact, although Brando lost the Spike of Light, at the moment, he went a step further, reaching a level of 15 energy levels, which was close to twelve times, or even thirteen times the height of trained soldiers. Although he still looks like a thin young man, if he wants, he can easily punch a boxing boar.

As long as Brando opens his own property panel, he can clearly see that his absolute power has reached the terrible value of 220. That is to say, theoretically, he can easily go in and out in front of any squadron in the second or third tier army of any country in this world.

This kind of strength is commonly known in the mouth of the adventurer of Eruin: the strength of the squadron level.

Moreover, Brando's hidden strength is far more than that. His tenth-level Eruin military sword art alone is enough to shame most of Eruin's officers and knights. Of course, Brando himself didn't feel it, just thinking that he seemed to be some distance from his grandfather.

But before he thought about it, he saw that the young man had pulled out his sword and pointed at him, the tip of the sword was shaking slightly, and cold light flashed in his vision.

"Listen, businessman, I never accept weak challenges and have no pity, just the opposite. Because the duel between fighters is sacred, that is, swords and swords, trying everything to end the life of the opponent." The young man said: "The head asked me to fight with you, but I will not show mercy against my will, do you think clearly?"

Brando went back to see Roman.

"Brando, does he mean that he is better than you?" Miss Merchant widened her eyes, in fact she was trying to stare bigger, and then blinked.

"No, I don't think that's the meaning." Brando was so angry that Roman wasn't furious, so he could only reply indignantly.

"Sir?" Antitina asked.

Brando shook his head and said to himself, can't you have a little faith? However, he had pulled out the sabre on his waist, and since the spear of the elven sword Zhanguang was lost, he has been using the ordinary steel sword, just like the handle on his hand now. When the white-haired young man saw his sword, he couldn't help showing a slight contempt—the sword was brand new, just as he had just bought it from the blacksmith's workshop.

He wasn't wrong, and it was true, because the last sword had shattered in a certain battle because he couldn't bear Brando's power.

Brando raised his sword and swayed it, as if adapting to the new sword. However, his actions immediately caused a hiss of mercenaries and explorers sitting around in the hotel lobby. There was no swordsman who would adapt to his sword before the battle. Brando's performance was almost like no Hairy kid on the battlefield.

"Redy, isn't your idol the Yably Swordmaster Gurekez, defeat this hairy guy, let's see your strength!"

"Well said, as a fellow swordsman, you can't be ashamed."

"Reddy, come on, kill him!" The mercenaries immediately started to coax, these lawless people are a group of people who will never be safe and secure anywhere.

But when Brando heard one of these names, he couldn't help but faint a moment and said, "Gurekes?" He was about to enter a preparation posture of Eruin's military swordsmanship-but he was relieved, He looked up and asked. This distraction allowed him to complete only half of his movements, and the military sword's starting hand style suddenly disappeared.

The mercenaries hissed again.

"You don't deserve to mention that name," the white-haired young man sank, and pierced his sword.

This sword can be regarded as thunderous in the eyes of ordinary people, but it is slow enough within the perception range of Brando's 3.7 energy levels. Besides, he was attacked by the opponent before he said a word, and then backhanded subconsciously. One sword-to be exact, he lifted the sword and flicked the long sword in the opponent's hand-with a bang, the white-haired young man couldn't hold the sword at all, and the sword in his hand had already been released and inserted into the ceiling on.

The young man's sword was deeply inserted into the light black wood, still trembling slightly.

The whole hall was stifled.

The mercenaries who were still chanting before seemed to be dumb at this moment, as if they saw a dragon or something, and opened their mouths blankly, precisely forgetting whether the following should be applauded-or Hissing.

Brando's previous sword can be said to be indecent, and to be honest, it looks like a barbarian sticking a stick. Because it is not at all a sword art, it is purely an instinctive reaction. But the key to this sword is not its elegance, but its strength.

Born weird? Everyone thought of it subconsciously.

This is nothing new. On Wayne Road, it is said that some of the humans inherited the blood of gold, and some people were born to awaken as natural candidates. But there is another type, they have some characteristics of their ancestors. For example, the natural power is infinite, or the resilience is strong, or the power of the coordinated element can be seen from birth.

Generally speaking, such power can only be seen in creatures with gold blood flowing in their bodies, such as fantasy creatures such as dragons and unicorns.

But someone called out immediately:

"First-level strength!"

"Black Iron Strength!"

The white-haired young man held his wrist back five steps in a row. He looked at his swollen arm that had just taken the sword of the opponent, and for a moment it was unacceptable. Although he was not as talented as Aiko, but reached the lower reaches of the black iron in his early twenties, and was considered the best among most people, but he never expected to be younger than himself. In front of the guy, he couldn't even take a sword.

So many monsters like Aiko in this world?

For a moment, Reddy went wrong.

It was only his fault that lasted for a moment, because Macaroo and another tall middle-aged man had come up from under the hotel. Although they did not see the previous scene, as long as they looked at the sword on the ceiling and the performance of the people present, the savvy mercenary commander understood 80%.

His eyes fell on Brando's head, his frown slightly. Although he knew that the businessman who proposed to join his team was a young man, he did not expect it to be so young.

"Buga," Makarom whispered, and said to the middle-aged man around him, "go try him."

"Me?" The middle-aged man's voice had a strong accent in the local area of ​​the Alek region.

"Well, I doubt this young man is on the 'card' side." Makaro stared at Brando and said.

"Are there such good young people over there, Macaro, are you thinking too much?" Buga said as he untied the huge sword behind him: "But nothing, since you say so, I'll go Give it a try. There must be something about this young man anyway. "

Macaro froze slightly and looked back at the old friend.

"Nothing, I smell a familiar taste." The middle-aged man looked at Brando with a hint of doubt in his eyes.