Amber Sword

"Our objective is simple: there are a total of three teleportation gates. Even if just one remains, the mission fails."

"The task of analyzing the teleportation gates is assigned to Miss Antitina. The rest of us, including myself, are to cover her approach to the gates and protect her until she completes her task."

"Do you have any questions?"

Brand looked at everyone. Soon they would face thousands of demons. Apart from him, none expected success. Most considered this mission a noble act—less than forty people against countless demons; aside from a miracle, they couldn’t envision a victory.

The knights of Lantoniyan were tense, furrowing their brows or seemingly indifferent and joking. Usually silent, the Curiosity Seeker Gallock demonstrated a spell model to Char. Nicholas, the sword master of Sipah, repeatedly polished his longsword. The Princess stared into the dark rain at Ambeser, lost in thought. These seemingly meaningless actions conveyed a sense of unease.

When the moment of truth approaches, who can bravely face impending death?

Yet, even so, everyone nodded silently. They didn’t know the young man held a sliver of hope, mistaking it for knightly determination—challenging despite knowing failure was certain. In this era, most nobles viewed such obstinacy as naïve—yet it was commendable for the pursuit of ideals and honor was untouchable.

This is why everyone admired Brand.

Brand sensed their sentiments but chose not to dispel the misunderstanding. "Alright, we’ve wasted too much time. We only have five minutes to prepare. Then we set out immediately. Please make haste or leave your wills—we both know this is likely a one-way trip, ten deaths without return."

Everyone remained silent.

Only Char laughed, "It’s a pity. We should have had the chance for a monument, recording today’s heroic deeds with inscriptions like ’the great Lord of Tonyger and his followers...’. But now it seems there won’t be such a chance. Whether anyone will remember us is still uncertain."

The young wizard vividly described.

"Why won’t they remember?" Delphire asked curiously.

"Simple, because some righteous temple will surely conceal the truth, but can we stand up against it?" Char replied ominously, then chuckled.

The joke was amusing, reflecting everyone’s current suspicions and resentment towards the Cruz people. This situation isn’t the handiwork of the Cruz people and the Flame Temple? Although united against the demons, there’s still a touch of discontent, especially among the knights of Lantoniyan who laughed freely.

Brand couldn’t help but smile. Char obviously held considerable disdain for the Flame Temple, yet he might be correct about the future outcome if they perished here.

Even the only Templar of the Flame Temple among them shook their head with a smile at Char’s words, showing no concern. As a high-ranking member of the Flame Temple, they knew the Temple’s ways but it was acceptable—it was faith they were loyal to, not the Temple’s conduct.

Brand stepped away from the group, glanced at the gentle slope on the northern edge of the woodland, and sighed. Some things are simple to speak of but hard to execute. The hills north of Ambeser connect to the bay via a gentle meadow, a terrain unsuitable for a surprise attack. Little Demons have limited sight but Hellhounds are the best scouts; they would be spotted once leaving the forest.

Once discovered, thinking of the densely packed demons by the teleportation gate and the ceaseless reinforcements made him despair.

If only the battle could unfold within the hills. But demons aren’t foolish. Furthermore, they lacked the luxury of choice.