But Brand himself didn't realize that he was already unconsciously using those past techniques in his every move.
To others, this may not seem significant, but to Zeta, who was on lookout up in the tree, it was unbelievable. He immediately identified the youth named Brand. Their captain had personally informed them that he was nothing more than a guy with mediocre swordsmanship and zero other skills.
However, in the eyes of the militia, swordsmanship was not a big deal. The best swordsmen among the militia, like Frey and Essen, could easily take on ten opponents like Brand; they just didn't bother to do so. Having joined the Guard Team, they naturally had their own sense of pride.
Just like Breson, no matter how much he taunted Brand, he would never challenge him to a duel to teach him a lesson because, in their group, this would be considered lowering oneself.
But now, what Zeta saw was entirely different. He recalled that during his scout training, a reconnaissance soldier from a mountainous corps had once taught them some practical experience. That guy was a quasi-knight who had received a Red Medal, but compared to this young man, his techniques seemed elementary.
Brand moved like a shadow in the dark. Every move he made coincided with the flickering firelight in the nearby valley. If he hadn't placed himself between the light source and Zeta at one point, Zeta might have missed him entirely.
Could Breson's understanding of him be wrong? Was he actually a reconnaissance soldier from the regular army? Or a spy from Madara?
Suddenly, Zeta felt a rush of nervousness. What should he do? He definitely couldn't make a sound, or else the vice-captain's plan would be ruined. They were less than thirty meters from the camp, and any noise would draw others' attention.
He couldn't help but take a deep breath and made a hand signal to Lains in the nearby tree, signaling him to pay attention to Brand's location. At first, Lains was puzzled why Zeta kept pointing towards an empty spot. Was he drunk? But he soon caught sight of Brand's position and his expression changed.
What the hell, is he a chameleon?
"What do we do?" he immediately signaled.
"I'll go first, you cover me from the right," Zeta responded with hand signs.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, his swordsmanship is very good, at the unranked mid-level."
Unranked mid-level was a swordsman's term, roughly equivalent to the best standard among guard team trainees. Above this was the white rank swordsman, approximately equivalent to players between level 5 and 20. Zeta, afraid Brand had hidden skills, generously gave Breson's estimate a boost.
Lains nodded, indicating his understanding.
...
Brand was equally surprised. Twenty-plus people, more than ten warhorses – was Breson planning a rebellion? But he knew that was neither possible nor necessary. He followed for a while, hearing the ones ahead whispering, and was about to move closer when he suddenly sensed a premonition of danger.
It was too quiet. From the beginning, he hadn't heard any insect sounds.
Brand's experience was immense. Although scouting and searching in their team were usually handled by nightingales, he still remembered the nightingale he had partnered with the longest – a girl called 'Shadow.' Unfortunately, she stopped playing later.
Having fought so many battles, he had developed an instinctive keen sense. Even the slightest stir would alert him.
Just like he had foreseen Rosco's detection in Buqi's old house.
Brand immediately felt a hand trying to wrap around his neck from behind. This was a scout's usual method. Brand leaned back, one hand gripping the opponent's elbow, the other pressing their wrist. He slid down, raised his hands high, then pushed forward with force — a black silhouette was thrown forward, hitting the tree ahead with a thud.
Their strength was nearly equal, but he had a slight advantage. Seeing the figure not defending themselves upon hitting the ground but turning to pounce on him, he realized there was another person.
A silver light flashed, and Brand's Azure Light Piercing was already unsheathed. He sidestepped and placed the sword against the neck of the one charging from behind.
The faint sword glow revealed the faces of the two men.