Amber Sword

The hills north of Ampezel connect with the relatively flat terrain near the bay area, where large patches of pine forests spread across undulating slopes, and dense bushes fill the woodlands. Looking down from the edge of the woodland, the vista on the gentle slopes is vast, yet today, gazing towards the direction of the large, gray port, the land appears charred as if scorched, with three towering teleportation gates standing on the scorched earth like three giant golden fire rings.

Looking inside the teleportation gates reveals a world where lava flows. It is said to be connected to the River of Sulfur beneath Jogen Digan, which is believed to lead to the Burning Hell of the Fire Element Plane.

Numerous demons cluster around the teleportation gates, including the most abundant red-skinned little demons and the more terrifying long-horned demons. These low-level demons, whose status and intelligence are quite low, engage in mutual conflict by the gates, tearing at human remains in a nauseating display.

Brand then saw hundreds of hellhounds resting on the hillside, led by a few hellhound leaders with three heads. Additionally, there were several red-skinned demon mages by the gates, whose skin flushed purple and, apart from the long horns on their heads, almost resembled humans. These high-level demons, more deceitful than ordinary humans, were watching the low-level demons fighting with interest.

Such conflicts often evolve into bloody battles, where one side may cruelly kill the other, but this is not surprising among demons; it is an everyday sight.

They are, after all, a twisted and chaotic group of monsters.

Brand, wearing the cloak passed over by the princess, calmly observed all this from within the bushes. Only he could clearly see everything without needing a brass telescope—Ampezel Port had become a hell.

He sighed quietly, not having much inclination to pray for the departed souls, though those who died at the hands of demons had family, friends, and even lovers. To be honest, if not personally affected, people are somewhat indifferent to the calamities of others. This is not human nature but a biological instinct to protect oneself. Frankly, Brand himself was not overflowing with sympathy, but he was here to try and save what mattered to him.

He had long told himself this: History brought him back here with the goal of saving this ancient kingdom, preventing the tragedy from repeating. If he gave up this goal, Brand feared he would be entirely engulfed by this vast world.

All his confidence stemmed from the Half-Elf Princess beside him, gazing towards Ampezel Port with slightly sorrowful silver eyes. "What wrong have we committed?" Griffith couldn’t help but mumble.

Brand couldn’t comprehend her kind of confusion, as this kingdom didn’t hold historical significance for him, only future implications. Just as the princess could risk herself to protect the Ande Fulei Grand Temple, he could dismantle the entire temple to ensure her safety.

Yet could he fully understand it? To him, theirs was not a matter of right or wrong but merely differing perceptions.

"The Eruein have committed no wrong, but it is the Cruz who err. Little princess, what Lord Marsha represents as justice is merely wishful thinking," Barba chuckled. "The Supreme One does not punish someone for wrongdoing but only gives results due to causes—that is true justice."

To anyone living under the rule of the Flame Temple, this was heretical nonsense.

Yet the princess’s lips slightly twitched, but she remarkably didn’t refute; her heart was as soft as water and as hard as iron, filled with doubt towards the teachings of the Flame Temple due to her long-standing hatred for the Cruz. But she knew she couldn’t believe just one side.

Brand actually agreed with Barba’s statement. Marsha represents absolute order, the Flame Temple interprets it as narrow fairness, the Light Holy Hall sees it as stern self-discipline, the Wind Elves believe it should be unchanged; holding reverence for the law, whereas Elrant think following nature is the way of all things.

But in truth, Marsha herself is both related to everyone and unrelated; witches grasp this most clearly, never worshiping Marsha as a true god, merely holding reverence.