Amber Sword

The verdant leaves glisten vividly, with a thin mist lingering beneath the branches, and within the Flada Forest, tranquility reigns like a painting. Yet someone inevitably breaks this silence—a knight lifts a handful of bush leaves with his longsword, allowing a warhorse to emerge from the thicket, and he immediately sees a group of people sitting not far off in the forest clearing.

Macaro lifts his head, clearly recognizing those behind the knight, and his sullen expression swiftly eases. He brushes off the leaves from his shoulders, stands up, and says, "You’ve finally arrived."

The young man sits sideways on horseback, his face taut as he watches these few people, without responding.

Macaro immediately senses something amiss.

Within the range of his vision, knights clad in black and red cloaks suddenly surge from the forest, encircling the group of Royalists.

Tens of taut longbows shine with cold light, arrows aiming at everyone by the bonfire.

It’s Duke Lantoniyan’s army; this is no joke.

"What do you mean by this, Ecco?" Macaro loudly asks.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Macaro," Ecco looks at them and responds proudly, "You understand, as long as I remain a knight, even if just for one second—I will never betray my oath!"

Macaro immediately grasps what Ecco wants. He can hardly believe that Ecco would go mad at this moment, "You’re being foolish, Ecco, you know what is right. We should immediately rescue Prince Haruz and then promptly escort him to the Duke Domain; this is the last chance."

"No," Ecco interrupts him, "I know what is right—justice and ideals! Just as you once told me, the Royalist’s belief; however, on introspection, are we still by the side of Glory?"

"Could it be that too many defeats have already eroded our reformer spirit? The Royalists once promised to act by oath, but then what? Do we merely need a victory?"

The young man raises his head, beams with spirit as he looks towards Ampezel Port, under the azure sky, where it resembles a city of Holy White.

Radiating light, making it impossible to stare directly at.

"No, what we need is to reclaim the spirit the Eruein have completely abandoned—this is the Princess’s, the Royalist’s, and every Eruein’s pursuit." He turns back to look at the others, dumbstruck, "The battle is far from over, are the Royalists about to leave the battlefield...?"

"You’re going mad, Ecco." Macaro can hardly believe his student would say such things and immediately discreetly signals to Bujia beside him to restrain this mad young man.

But Ecco seems exceptionally clear-headed today, he immediately turns to Bujia and says, "Mr. Bujia, in my capacity as the newly appointed Count of Kalolan, sole heir of Duke Lantoniyan, and Commander of this army, I order you to stand by my side. Just because I will not command you to turn your blade against a companion, and the Princess is still in the city—I want only the soldiers of Lantoniyan to act by oath—now I possess a part of Glory, but I refuse to enjoy it alone."

"Orders and Glory are both present, Mr. Bujia, please do not disappoint me."

The young man earnestly speaks.

Bujia and Macaro inevitably exchange a glance, both eyes filled with a wry smile. They have prepared long for this moment but did not anticipate the outcome.

"Ecco, this knight-minded fool couldn’t possibly say this, I know you’re here, Yura." The kingdom’s Cunning Fox shakes his head, unable to resist calling out to the forest.

A sound of hooves, and indeed, a blind girl comes around from behind Ecco. She wears a gentle and calm expression, though sightless, she seems to perceive everything in her heart.

"Yura, you can discern right from wrong."

"Yes, because I only ask my heart," Yura smiles, "Jiu Feng says, Noble men honor their oaths, one word is as good as a thousand gold."

Macaro and Liwu involuntarily sigh together. They could not help raising their heads, above the branches, cloud shadows and daylight—the azure sky seems to mirror all that has passed, how once the Royalists too were ambitious.

Macaro recalls his experience during the most difficult times, even having to hide his name and become a mercenary group leader in a far-off region. Perhaps the Royalist had faced too many failures, experienced too much waiting, too much to bear another defeat.

Erune’s future has already drifted far from people like them.

...

Duke Lantoniyan’s army finally enters the stage, bearing a banner that everyone conceives as unimaginable—but no one will guess this riddle. Meanwhile, inside Ampezel Port, officer cadets of the Royal Knight Academy traverse the entire southern city, yet do not encounter any of the enemies they imagined.