Berserk: The Prophet

"........."

Thranduil silently looked at him, knowing that this adventure they had shared had come to an end. His gaze was somewhat melancholy, and he sighed sadly. It was Trunks who had given him hope for life again, and he should also go to the continent of Pendor to find his lost past, and also to fulfill his mother's last wish.

"If all goes well, I'll become the governor of Pens when I return, and be granted a title by the king and swore an oath of allegiance. If I'm unlucky, I might face a marriage arranged by His Majesty the King." Trunks looked at Seranthi, as if marriage was still a very troubling thing for Trunks, especially after seeing someone as beautiful and powerful as Seranthi.

It would only make it seem even more unappealing to Trunks for ordinary people and delicate women. If all else fails... going back to take on that position might not be a bad idea.

"Isn't that wonderful, my friend?" Seranti forced a smile for his friend, trying to make the parting seem less sorrowful.

This time, Seranti opened his arms and embraced his dear friend who was about to leave. The two hugged each other tightly, not knowing how long it would be before they could meet again after this parting.

"What are your plans, Seranthi?" Trunks could tell from his friend's preoccupied expression.

“I’m going back to Pendor.” Seranti’s eyes gleamed with a resolute determination.

"Then I wish you and me a bright future!" Trunks spurred his horse and rode back to his homeland in the north.

"Yes, good luck! Have a safe trip, my friend."

Thranduil watched him leave from horseback. The two waved goodbye to each other. Trunks rode away with his troops who were willing to stay. Some chose to continue their journey to punish evil and promote good, while others chose to remain on this borderland. The story of the Stormblade Rangers continues to be passed down through new bloodlines.

Seranti looked at the "Hurricane Blade Eye" badge on his shoulder and took it off. It was a metal badge made of mithril, with the intertwining of wind and eye, and the patterns of a bow and a greatsword. He felt a sense of relief. That forest was the truth he was looking for. His gaze and belief became much stronger. The young man in armor and a cloak rode his golden-haired white horse toward Tulai Port. A new journey was about to begin.

.........

I still felt very uncomfortable adrift at sea, but I finally arrived at this land I once knew—the Fog-shrouded City.

Fogvere City. Located on the coast of the Kingdom of Philwiz on the continent of Pendor, it is one of the Kingdom of Philwiz's trading ports. You can always hear sailors speaking with an accent similar to that of the Vanskeri people as they move goods between ships and docks.

As for local specialties? Probably smoked dried fish, but that's all trivial. After buying some dry food and resting for a night, we set off for the Lion Realm. It took 20 days. After dealing with the petty thieves on the way and avoiding some trouble, we finally arrived back at... that place with unbearable memories—Long River Town.

Rivertown has a new governor and a new duke. The new governor is said to be known as Duke Alama and is currently the Grand Master of the Horn Knights.

Seranti wasn't interested in this, he just frowned. He didn't like the place, so he bought some provisions and necessities and headed east of White Hart Castle—the Noldor Forest.

He spent the night sleeping in a tree outside, and the thought of reaching that place the next day filled him with excitement. Would they accept him? Late at night, Seranti finally fell asleep peacefully, as if he was about to find the answer to his childhood dream.

Dawn. Thrann mounted his horse early and set off, his face brimming with excitement, his emerald eyes shining with a light he had never seen before. He galloped through the forest, tearing off his mask and removing the hood he had worn for four years. Could he finally...unleash his true self without restraint? He smiled expectantly.

But reality... always crashes down on people so heavily...

............

"Uh..."

Thran moved his left leg, which was numb with pain, and touched the Noldor arrow that had pierced his right chest.

"Click"

Thrandtie gritted his teeth and used a great deal of effort to bend the Noldor arrow, which was made of an extraordinary material.

Feeling a bit dizzy, he looked around, dragged his broken left leg, and crawled into the cave. Inside, there was a pile of fire that had been abandoned for a long time, along with a lot of sticks and firewood. Thranduil propped himself up and struck a spark to light the fire on the dry grass, then threw it into the abandoned fire full of charcoal and added a few more pieces of firewood.

He needed fire to dry his clothes, so he pulled out the arrows from his back. He had been asleep for too long, and when he pulled them out, granulation tissue was torn out. The newly formed scabs broke open and bled. Thranduil grimaced in pain, but he didn't care. He took off his armor and clothes, tore off a few clean strips of cloth from his clothes, and hung them on a tree branch to dry. Once they were dry, he used them as bandages to wrap around his wounds.

Seranti's forehead was covered in sweat after he finished doing all this. After resting for a while, he began to take off his pants to dry them. His left leg was broken, and it was very difficult to move even a little. He struggled to pull off his pants and white loincloth. The wet feeling was very unpleasant and would make him more susceptible to illness.

Thirsty...Hungry...

He had no food left, only an empty water bag. The stopper was missing, and the water inside was dirty. Weakly, Seranti leaned against the stone wall and silently gazed at the sky.

"rustle"

Something seemed to be crawling and rubbing on the ground. Seranti turned his head to look and saw a banded serpent. Its colorful patterns meant it was venomous, and it was crawling towards him. Seranti picked up his scimitar, his eyes filled with vigilance.

"Click"

With a swift stroke, the snake's head was severed, leaving a small pool of blood. Seranti relaxed slightly, and as the stench of blood filled the air, his stomach rumbled. Yes, this was food...

Seranti's eyes lit up, and he expressionlessly roasted the snake's body on a stick, lost in his memories.

.........

The Noldor Forest.

As Seranti was preparing for his afternoon nap in a tree in the forest, his keen ears caught some unusual noises. The figures moved swiftly, the horses' hooves were light, and they disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if they had simply passed by.

Thranduil perked up immediately. This way of moving was unlike anything humans could do! Humans couldn't possibly act like this. Thranduil grabbed his sword, spurred his horse (which hadn't eaten much grass), and gave chase. He chased for a long time but couldn't catch up with the group. Thranduil didn't want to give up, so he followed the hoofprints. The more he followed, the more numerous the footprints became. These footprints would disappear after a day because they were too shallow. The more Thranduil chased, the brighter his eyes became, because this meant they were definitely not left by humans. Humans couldn't possibly leave such footprints!

And so, Thranduil chased them all the way from the Noldor Forest to the vicinity of Fletcher, which belonged to Shieldwraith Keep. The group seemed to have finished surveying their destination and were preparing to move on to the next place. They were resting for a while when Thranduil finally caught up with them, but was stopped by two scouts who were keeping watch nearby.

Seranti did not resist, but simply raised his hands to indicate that he had given up. These elves, dressed in exquisite armor, looked Seranti up and down with their sapphire-like eyes and emerald-colored eyes just like Seranti's. Upon closer inspection, they were even more beautiful than Seranti.