Amber Sword

"One day," Beth replied firmly, "Her Highness the Princess will do it, no longer relying on those rotten northern nobles."

Really? Frey couldn’t help but recall what Brand had once told her, but aren’t the Royalists also nobles? Can those nobles truly understand such pain? The more she understood, the darker and more profound history appeared before her eyes, like a giant mouth trying to swallow her. But then she remembered the resolute eyes amidst the sea of fire in Buqi, why was Brand always so confident?

The mist that made everyone uncertain seemed nonexistent before his eyes, had he already seen the other end of history, the inevitable end?

The young girl stood in a trance.

...

The battlefield of Bunoan was like the scorched bottom of a pot, on the charred ground stood some poles, some of which still bore tattered flags. Scattered around were the remnants of armor heated to boiling, amidst incomplete human bodies, hands, feet, or other parts.

The demon’s assault finally came to an end, but it left an incomparable shock in people’s hearts. The remnants gradually retreated, finally establishing a new line of defense after falling back nearly four or five miles. The Harbor People’s genius, Viscount von Doggen, stood on the battlefield looking at the pits in the distance one after another, gritting his teeth in hatred, regretting not having killed the whining nobles of the Northern Alliance who were begging for a retreat with one sword each, they were simply cowards.

He was fortunate to survive the battle of the Mar Highlands, although he was captured, he was quickly exchanged back, which left him with a bruised reputation, so he urgently needed a victory to prove himself. The glory of a soldier demands advancement, especially in such a war. Slaying more demons would be the capital for future promotions.

But the demon’s attack was so formidable that Viscount von Doggen did not know if he still had a chance. On the other side of the horizon, bright flames burned, as if the pouring rain was oil, making the flames even more dazzling. The Bunoan Guard City was considered finished, he didn’t care how many people died there, or who died, none of it mattered to him, but he at least understood that this line of defense had become perilously fragile.

He saw several knights in White Lion Legion cloaks walk past him—the White Lions seemed to be organizing a counterattack. He couldn’t help but spit, such battles were unbearable to fight, not even knowing the enemy’s combat style, these commanders were fools.

Viscount von Doggen couldn’t help but look at the sky, his gaze unable to penetrate the curtain of rain, but he could still see the shadow of the Erune Royal First Fleet hanging in mid-air. His expression was deep, uncertain of his thoughts.

Count Yanilasu corrected the time on the watch for the last time—

The fleet was fully deployed toward the direction where the Northern Demon Army was stationed, and all the cannon ports on the ship’s side opened, like countless black hole-like eyes. The sun had completely sunk below the horizon, leaving only a pitch blackness in the pouring rain.

But there was still a sliver of light in the sky, mixed with the flickering glow of flames.

This light fell on the count’s resolute face, etching a few straight lines. The middle-aged man turned back, glancing at the Cruz people: "Fifteen more minutes."

Almost all the upper echelon of the Alliance, the Cruz people, and the Eruein people, had gathered on deck at this moment. Under the gaze of the Wood High Priest, Char placed a Crystal Ball in the center, which showed Brand’s image.

At the same time, Brand also looked at the Crystal Ball image of Wood placed on the parchment map by Barba.

"Brand, there are fifteen minutes left, the Cruz people and the Eruein people will launch a full attack together, facing a demon army several times larger from the River of Sulfur, we will draw their attention for you," Wood, wearing the Holy Robe of the High Priest, said with a stern expression, "but can you really find a way to dismantle those Flame Gates?"

"I can’t guarantee it," Brand replied seriously, "but you and I both understand what will happen if I can’t succeed, so we must do it."

"I, and you—are both in this, Lord of Priest." He smiled slightly.

Wood looked deeply at Brand.

If possible, this was one of the faces he least wanted to see, this plan with Ambeser was almost becoming his nightmare. The situation at the port had deteriorated completely, if the Northern Alliance could not defeat the demons, then both the Cruz Empire and the Flame Temple might pay a heavy price together.