The raging flames were burning, the golden-red light forming a gradient from bright to dark along the edge of everyone's faces.
Brand raised his head, carefully observing the young deputy captain of the guard team on horseback. He saw the same seriousness on the other's face: lips pursed, staring at him wordlessly as if trying to make him yield with a stern gaze.
But neither Sophie nor Brand were intimidated by this.
"I am a militia from Ankeze. May I ask Captain Breson, when did the guard team from Buqi start issuing orders to friendly units across jurisdictions at will? May I see your commission order?"
As soon as he spoke, the knights behind Breson all froze. Brand had fought for Erune in the game for twenty-one years and knew the country's laws better than these rookies.
The young deputy captain thought for a moment and stubbornly replied, "Special times, special measures."
Brand knew the other couldn't bring himself to back down, but he didn't want to argue either; if Breson hadn't been looking for trouble, he wouldn't bother with such childish disputes.
"I'm looking for Frey and Essen. Have you seen them?" He asked, raising his head.
This was the question Brand cared about most at the moment. The surrounding fire seemed to have been started by these young guardsmen, but he couldn't help but maliciously think that Erune's future Valkyrie couldn't possibly be burned to death by this fire, could she? If so, Breson, you'd be in big trouble.
Of course, that was just a thought.
But Breson took Brand's casual tone as utter disregard, though he couldn't understand what this guy, who had fallen from grace and wasn't doing well now, had to be proud of. He suppressed his inner disgust and said, "Frey? From the third militia squad? What were you two doing together?"
Brand noticed Breson's affection for Frey, but the unfriendly tone still made his mood sour. Repeated provocations—how does the saying go? Even a clay Bodhisattva has three parts of earth.
"Captain Breson, who I associate with is my freedom. As for what I'm doing here, it's probably the same as you. Don't think I don't know your current situation—" he couldn't help but retort.
"Kid, what attitude is that!" A young man behind Breson scolded, stepping forward, "You're just a militia. The officers in front of you are from the guard team. Show some respect!"
Brand was taken aback by the reprimand and lifted his head to scrutinize the speaker.
Following his gaze, the row of riders in front stiffened, as if trying to intimidate him. He looked at the fifteen young men standing tall on horseback, all in deep blue military uniforms, with neat and shining armor, exuding the demeanor of an elite unit.
Brand knew these young men indeed had the right to be proud—they were the best youths from the countryside or towns in the Golan-Elsen region, strictly trained and screened. The remaining ones were at least close to 'Level 1 Strength.'
According to the Flame Temple's regulations, a person with an average strength between 3Oz and 20Oz could be considered to have Level 1 Strength. In this strength system, it included all swordsmen of the white rank across the continent, wizard apprentices, and affinity (basic elemental masters), as well as knight attendants from the Holy Temple Church, and low-level clergy.
The Flame Temple used amber raw stones to test the purity of individuals' strength. Brand had seen such tools in the game, but there they were used for NPCs. The players had direct data and didn't need tests.
He had read a game guide before. He knew that in all of Vorn, more than sixty percent of the population had Level 1 Strength, largely because humans here generally lived over a hundred and sixty years. But when the range was narrowed to those aged seventeen to nineteen, the same percentage dropped to twenty percent or even lower. In Erune, outside of the church, wizard college, and knight reserves, most of those twenty percent served in the guard team.
Which meant the men he saw now.
Indeed, facing militia of varying quality, these young men could afford to be proud. But militia is militia, and Brand is Brand. Growing up in a free world, he was quite an anomaly in this one, and wouldn't think he was inferior to anyone.