Amber Sword

The ripple created by a single drop of water can instantly spread across the entire pond like a spider’s web.

The same applies on land.

Baron Rodu watched with satisfaction as his private soldiers spread out along the Silver Smith River in the rain. Although their movements were slow and their formation chaotic, the coarse noble private soldiers shouted and jostled in the heavy rain, but they finally established a defensive line, even faster than he had anticipated by a quarter of an hour. Veterans who have been to the battlefield are indeed different, the Baron thought from horseback, entirely disregarding that their previous opponents were merely unarmed peasants and so-called ’thugs’.

Amidst the torrential rain, several sergeants, led by Sir Knight, kicked down the door of a household, driving out the occupants and occupying the house as a stronghold. The windows were broken one by one, and soldiers rummaged through the house searching for valuable ’spoils of war’, an action that quickly inspired imitation. In no time, the terrified cries of women and children mingled with the sound of the rain.

Baron Rodu coldly observed from the side. To him, an army is like a beast, and a beast must show its fangs and claws; that is the morale of the troops. Without morale, what war could they fight? Rodu considered himself a seasoned veteran, watching as his private soldiers taught those crestfallen men a lesson with their fists, not only did he not stop it, but he also felt satisfied.

What courage do these rebels have to dare resist? They need to be taught a lesson, so they will obediently comply.

The sound of weeping seemed to be carried in the rain.

The knights gathered around the baron, shouting boldly: "I see the Princess herself is just a little girl, blindly trusting those around her. I believe the Royalists harbor ill intentions, giving her two hundred students. This time, they’re bound to suffer a crushing defeat."

"Exactly, my Lord, this time we’ll show her what true war really is." The knights echoed in unison, laughing heartily in the wind and rain.

The morale was usable, and Baron Rodu nodded in satisfaction. He raised a sack high and shouted, "All of you must put in more effort, whoever captures the Princess can take this sack of gold from me!"

The sound carried far along the riverbank.

Beth looked disdainfully through the brass telescope at the enemies on the opposite riverbank. The baron’s duck-like grating voice made her frown. Since childhood, her personality resembled that of a man, and upon growing up, Beth truly embraced this romantic notion of men—becoming a soldier of the Kingdom.

Not only that, but she also became the most outstanding scout officer of her class at the Royal Knight Academy. She put down the telescope, standing tall on horseback like a javelin, as a thunderous sound of hooves seemed to envelop her—a stream of warhorses and knights leaping past her one after another.

Beth seemed to stand in a torrent, her companions loudly calling out the names of the knights:

"Camer!"

"Heimann!"

"Kiel, remember to bring back my share!"

"Aiden, for Erune!"

"For Erune, advance!" Every young knight passing by shouted, screeched, with no fear on their tightened young faces under the pointed helmets, only relentless aspiration.

And excitement.

Beth silently looked toward the front of the formation, which was already a torrent. At the furthest end of the rain curtain, the swallowtail banners raised high were being lowered one by one, like dominoes.

She could almost hear the cold orders: "Lower the lances—"

"Lower the lances—"

"Damn," she spat.

Turning her head back, she saw her companions’ smiling faces, "How about it, feeling regret, Beth?"

"Regret? Never," Beth replied disdainfully, "They’re nothing but rabble, if only it were the White Lion Legion ahead, we are stronger than them!"

"The Princess’s safety comes first, Beth. Your thoughts are too dangerous!"

"Of course, I know!"

In the heavy rain.

Baron Rodu held the sack high, waiting for his subordinates’ roaring cheers. Unfortunately, he waited long without a response. It was eerily silent amidst the heavy rain.

What’s going on, he turned back in shock.

Everyone was listening intently.

On the long street, amidst the sound of rain, the crisp sound of hooves rang out, one, two, as if the clock hands were accelerating, clip-clop, clip-clop, clear and powerful.

Then, a sudden gust of wind and rain—

As hundreds and thousands of metal-shod hooves rose and fell, orderly and synchronized, gradually merging into a powerful force that rattles the soul—an urgent drumbeat thundered in everyone’s ears, roaring like thunder.