Amber Sword

But he was just about to open his mouth in surprise when he saw another slender figure walking alongside Your Excellency the Commander. It was Sir Overwell, whose title as the Lonely Wolf had long resounded throughout the kingdom. The kingdom’s old minister, Lord Overwell was actually charging alongside him?

What an honor this is...

But who exactly honors whom.

Camer scarcely had time to utter a sound when one knight after another had already surpassed him and joined Brand. First among them were the Rubis Mercenaries, these seasoned mercenaries flanked their lord on both sides, making Brand look akin to a king out on a hunt.

Brand quickly answered Camer’s unspoken question through his actions.

The position of the Kingdom White Lion Legion’s First Swordsmen Group finally began to waver.

The opportunity had arrived.

Brand withdrew his gaze from the sides; to his left were Overwell and Nemesia, and to his right were Char, Hu Que, Andreg, and Medphis.

These people were his companions.

So-called companions.

All were like-minded individuals.

He knew that some of these people had shared joys and sorrows with him in this world, while others had fought alongside him in another Chapter of history, yet both historical moments overlapped in this instant.

It was now within reach, in every possible sense. The whoosh of the wind brushed past his ear, carrying with it a voice—the long melody of Karasu’s flute.

That flute sound, drifting over the battlefield.

That year, their adversary was the never-ending army of Madara. Just like now, right in front of them, the knights adjusted their helmets, exchanged heartfelt farewells, and prepared to launch their final charge at the enemy.

What awaited them were countless cold, unemotional, flickering deaths like will-o’-the-wisps.

In that moment, history and reality overlapped.

Then charge forth.

He raised his sword, taking the lead. His cloak soared, like a black flame. Buqi, Ridenburg, Madara, everything was left behind, ahead lay the boundless future.

History had changed.

The cavalry roared behind him, forming three unstoppable spearheads, bearing the names of the Royal Knight Academy’s officer cadets, the Kingdom’s White Lion Guards, and Erune’s youthful future.

The immense trident on the battlefield pierced through the Northern Nobles’ White Lion Legion’s formation in an instant, and this legion, once deemed indestructible, finally also collapsed.

The cavalry howled and shrieked, the long wail of the horns like a colossal hand sweeping across the battlefield, carrying everyone’s victory forward and ever onward.

The White Lion Legion’s encirclement was breached.

This breach finally tore apart one of the darkest corners in Erune’s history. When Sir Nicolom the Great Knight arrived with reinforcements, he saw, with a pale face, the collapsing section of the White Lion Legion. It was a scene he had never witnessed in his lifetime.

Then he saw a black flame sweeping out from the fleeing soldiers.

Beneath the flame were the young man’s eyes, unwavering as steel, and the sharp blade in his hand. Sir Nicolom the Great Knight drew his longsword; what a Holy Temple Knight indeed, a circle of golden light also radiated from him.

Also a Holy Temple Knight.

Camer saw their Commander cross paths with that Holy Temple Knight, and he didn’t even have time to shout a warning. That was a Holy Temple Knight; he even recognized him—Sir Nicolom, one of the few Golden Rank specialists of the Ampezel Holy Temple.

But all Camer saw was a sequence of blurred shadows and Sir Nicolom the Great Knight’s head soaring high.

"Ah..."

He couldn’t even make a sound. At that moment, all the Royal Knight Academy’s officer cadets were utterly stunned. What kind of swordsmanship was that, one that mortal words could not begin to describe.

The White Lion Legion’s First Swordsmen Group had collapsed.

On the battlefield, it was as if a vortex of death had formed; Nicolom’s subordinates were also swept into this vortex and instantly crushed to pieces.

Yet Brand continued onward, the young cavalry sweeping past the Third Swordsmen Group’s flank of the White Lion Legion, then past the Fourth Swordsmen Group, who had just arrived without having time to set up formation. Conne fell in battle, Owen was gravely injured.

Morale soared like a rainbow.

Ampezel North City Gate Barracks—

Belta, face pale as paper, looked at the report in his hand, each piece of information conveying only one message: The princess and her Royal Knight Academy officer cadets had broken through.

He stiffly raised his head.

Wood High Priest, face dark as water, said, "The growth of these young people far exceeded our expectations. It seems we old folks have no choice but to step in."

Reid nodded, turned, and pushed the door open to leave.

...

(PS: My cousin had a baby yesterday, so I went to visit today and only got back this afternoon to write a Chapter. Haha, it turns out I’m an uncle now~) (To be continued. If you like this work, feel free to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendation tickets, monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)