Amber Sword

The center of the camp.

The enormous White Lion battle flag is emitting an incredibly dazzling light, standing firm amidst the wind and rain, as if the white lion on the flag has come to life at this moment, baring its teeth and flashing its claws.

"Radiant Banner..." Foster suddenly froze.

It seems he understood something and, in a daze, looked towards the west.

Knight Commander Karen of the White Lion Legion’s fourth division was also gazing in the same direction. Amidst the wind and rain, a mysterious army he had never seen before was slowly emerging through the rain curtain before him.

There seemed to be singing amidst the rain.

’I stand before this sword and take an oath—’

’I vow to lead my people—lead them away from slaughter and strife, away from the arrogance and greed of the nobles.’

’I vow not to repeat this cold-blooded mistake; I shall ensure the nobles of the new kingdom strictly adhere to the knightly spirit—just and stern, upright and brave, merciful and forgiving.’

’I swear an oath, today, and every day.’

The silver Elf Helmet, bathed in rain, bore the white lion on the shoulder as if stepping out from legend. The sword in hand was five feet long, a palm wide, with a lion-hearted emblem on the guard, draped in heavy armor, scale skirt beneath, singing oath as they advanced.

In this moment, legend and reality overlapped.

The army emerging slowly from the downpour instantly struck the softest spot in the hearts of all White Lion Legion soldiers. It was as if they walked out from some vividly historical luminous tale, even carrying that mysterious and magical aura from fairy tales; that army existed only in legend and stood before them now.

These were their predecessors.

Their history.

Their pride.

The White Lion Legion Imperial Guard.

But now they were their enemies—

Because ultimately, they betrayed their oath, priding themselves on inheriting Eck Exile’s glory, and at this moment, that too must be washed away, as the legendary army now comes to remove the crown from their heads.

Everyone couldn’t help but step back instinctively.

It was the legend they’ve heard countless times, growing up with them, solidifying their beliefs—legend. Although that White Lion Legion marched silently in the rain, merely half a squad. Not one soldier of the White Lion Legion wasn’t a veteran, with just a glance one could count the others’ numbers.

Forty-five.

But so what?

Knight Karen felt cold sweat in his palms. Since becoming a knight, he had never faced a moment like today, when he hadn’t confronted the enemy directly yet lost the courage to wield his sword. But the honor of a soldier forbade him from abandoning the sword to surrender, moreover, that vague panic was merely a fleeting illusion.

Karen suddenly reacted; he almost bit out and barked: "An affront, where did these clowns come from to dare impersonate the White Lion Legion?"

His voice echoed far in the rain.

"White Lion Legion?" That army halted, and their Commander visibly paused slightly.

Now was the moment, Karen seized the fleeting opportunity, and instantly raised his sword: "Fourth division of the White Lion Legion, follow my command, attack! Eliminate these heretics offending Eck Exile!"

The soldiers of the White Lion Legion roared in unison, as if such a roar could dispel the confusion in their hearts, as if countless times when they, just like their predecessors and comrades, charged the Cruz cavalry atop the highlands, for the first time in generations, they launched a charge against the Erune.

The horn of the White Lion Legion resonated long.

Within the melodious sound lay this legendary legion’s long, glorious history, its every charge audaciously forward, never having faced enemies not because they were invincible, but because of their indomitable spirit.

In the face of the White Lion Legion, no enemy could make them tremble in fear.

Because it was the courage of the Lion.

A belief bestowed upon them by Former King Ai Ke.

The soldiers’ longswords were unsheathed, only a mere two hundred men, yet they carried the momentum of thousands. The White Lion battle banner moved forward amidst wind and rain, formation tight like a blade sweeping through, maintained not just by discipline, but by belief.

But today, the hands gripping the swords felt heaviness for the first time.

"It’s truly the White Lion Legion." Caglis suddenly felt an illusion that this was destiny, as if an invisible hand arranged their meeting, this encounter was both eternal.

But he also understood what the appearance of an unexpected enemy formation on the battlefield meant.

"The situation has changed," the young Commander decided to first immediately rendezvous with the Lord, but before that, there lay another army also named the White Lion Legion blocking their path.