Chapter 71
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Chapter 71: Seize the Morning Star
In his previous life, the Morning Star Mercenary Corps—originally a third-rate group—rose swiftly after gaining the Elven Kingdom’s heritage. Within years, they became a famously powerful top-tier mercenary corps in Arad, exploring every corner of the continent.
The corps’ most celebrated members were two half-Elf roaming gunslingers: leader Odel and frontline specialist Alyn. Though not blood-related, they were dubbed the "Dual Pistol Sisters" of the Morning Star Mercenary Corps, their legend rivaling the Hawk Brigade’s "Iron Triangle" among adventurers.
The Hawk Brigade had once partnered with the Morning Star, so Midi knew the sisters during their prime. But here, Alyn’s amateurish style marked her as a raw recruit. No wonder he didn’t recognize her despite the nagging familiarity.
Now, armed with foreknowledge, joining forces with them became his best move.
Though a reincarnator with past memories, Midi’s previous ventures had failed. They’d claimed little of the Elven Kingdom’s heritage, relying on rumors rather than firsthand details. Teaming up with the Morning Star Mercenary Corps would drastically boost their chances of securing the full legacy!
A thousand plans flashed through Midi’s mind. His strategy crystallized.
First step: earn the sisters’ trust.
Silver cold flame blazed hotter in his eyes.
In an instant, Midi shifted from defense to offense. He streaked like smoke in a curved path toward Odel, the level 35 roaming gunslinger raining bullets at him.
Odel stared in disbelief.
Who was this ordinary-looking boy with a crow?
She’d tracked them cautiously, laying traps instead of charging blindly. The corpses littering the ground proved his lethal swordsmanship.
Yet she’d felt confident. At level 35, she far outclassed the slain level 25 foes. She’d even brought the corps’ three elite captains and two frontline fighters!
Her only worry was Alyn’s proximity to the enemy—a potential hostage if she acted rashly.
Patiently, she’d chosen optimal terrain for a gunslinger, waiting until full darkness and her team’s arrival. Then she’d revealed herself, unleashing full firepower.
With a half-Elf’s night vision and ranged suppression, she’d estimated an 80% victory chance.
How wrong she’d been.
This wasn’t some kitten to leash or sheep to pen—this was a rampaging tiger!
Her preparations shattered under his charge.
Her max-output scatter fire poured bullets like stormwater, yet all met his casually raised black longsword. No fancy techniques—just simple blocks.
Yet every shot was intercepted. As if he’d known exactly where she’d aim.
How? How could anyone predict so perfectly?
On a moonless night, no less!
She refused to accept it—her famed gunplay undone by a nobody!
But Midi had anticipated everything.
Decades of combat experience and his second awakening let him read a level 35 gunslinger’s patterns effortlessly.
Crucially, his Ultimate Intent now thrummed through him like living needles, linking his consciousness to every whisper, breath, and flicker of magic in the air.
In the darkness, he tracked Odel’s every twitch—gun angles, hostile glares, all laid bare. He knew each bullet’s path before it left the chamber.
Under Midi’s Ultimate Intent, which left nothing hidden, the battlefield might as well have been bathed in daylight. All he needed to do was raise his sword and wait for Odel’s bullets to collide with it. The fiery blasts from her guns seemed pitifully weak against his pitch-black blade, as if an invisible, impenetrable iron wall stood between them, deflecting every shot regardless of angle or force.
In an instant, the distance between them vanished.
A surge of magic wave erupted from Odel’s flank. Dozens of enhanced Magic Beams shot from the shadows, a azure rain of fire hurtling toward Midi. Yet he didn’t flinch. In his past life, as the core of the elite Hawk Brigade, he’d never fixate on a single foe. His senses, amplified by Ultimate Intent, had already mapped every opponent—their numbers, positions, and professions.
Instead of dodging the Rain of Bullets, Midi charged forward. His body blurred as he accelerated, leaving Afterimages in his wake—the Demon Shadow Step. The feeble magic barrage, leagues beneath Fina’s skill, slipped past him effortlessly. Now Odel’s delicate half-Elf features filled his vision.
At point-blank range, her breath hitched under the Cold Flame in Midi’s gaze. Even her steady hands shook—this was the despair born of absolute disparity, a tidal wave crushing all resolve.
Somehow, Odel steadied her dual pistols, sights trembling toward Midi’s outline.
Too late.
Midi’s Sword Edge tapped her right pistol, guided it into her left with a twist. Both guns veered wildly before wrenching free from her grip. Before they even peaked midair, his palm struck her neck.
The Morning Star Mercenary Corps leader collapsed without uttering her order to flee.
When Odel awoke, training and fitness cleared the haze swiftly. The roaming gunslinger found herself in a makeshift camp, fire warming the spring chill. Nearby, her proud companions lay strewn like sacks—alive, unharmed.
“Alyn, water for your captain,” Midi said.
The half-Elf girl hurried over, gaze ashamed. This mess stemmed from her blunder.
Midi, though, was satisfied. He’d not only met the Palace’s heritage “winner” from his past life but seized total initiative. Trust? Friendship?
*I spared you all. Isn’t that trust?*
*I held back. Isn’t that friendship?*
*If not, at least an apology.*
Connection made. The rest would follow.
Meeting Odel’s dazed look with feigned dullness, Midi offered her weapons, their scars of swords glinting. “Enough fighting. Let’s talk, Captain Odel.”
A pause. “Call me John.”
The commonest name in Arad.
