Amber Sword

And their enemies, the Harbor Guard of Ampezel, are currently experiencing the most brutal defeat in decades.

Sani’er and its subordinates are patrolling the battered positions of the Harbor Guard. In its pale yellow, cold, narrow pupils, the Harbor Guard under Marquis Julian finally collapsed just a moment ago. The number of deserters raising their weapons high above their heads from behind the lines is astonishingly large.

In just four hours.

Although the Harbor Guard of Ampezel claims a strength of thirty-five thousand, Sani’er estimated they could defeat less than half on the front. In a wealthy region like Ampezel, mercenary-like Harbor Guards have long been accepted as a norm, and the nobles are mostly well aware of this situation.

But the question is, who dares to attack the territory of the Holy Temple?

Sani’er, with its Grey Fin Naga Guard, provided a resounding answer to this merchant council. More than fifteen thousand well-equipped troops on a front no wider than five kilometers were thoroughly defeated in less than half a day. It wasn’t even a retreat; they were captured en masse.

This is simply a joke.

Marquis Julian was stunned, though perhaps part of him had foreseen this. What he couldn’t understand was what madness had come over these Naga.

Sani’er saw its deputy, with darker scales, coming to report and inquire about continuing the advance. It lifted its head, and its pale yellow pupils reflected the inner city of Ampezel port.

This is the strongest fortress of Erune in the Southern Territory.

But would they support that human to such a point?

It glanced at the Sea God Trident in its hand, the gemstone on the trident flickering unpredictably, as if it were this gamble. Then it nodded.

Continue advancing.

Unite with Brand.

...

The situation on the battlefield is subtly tipping.

The Cruz people have entered, and the Black Blade Legion is completing its final assembly.

A vast wave of Flying Dragon Knights is descending upon the skies over Ampezel port, and on the distant horizon, squads of winged beasts seemed to form an arched sky, the entire sky resonating with shrieks and din.

That moment seemed like a doomsday scene.

Danos, on his steed, saw a wall, a wall of Flying Dragons swooping head-on. They were not merely the Flying Dragon Knights of the Black Blade Legion; he saw the insignias on various shields. Nearly the entire Northern Flying Dragon Cavalry had assembled here.

A lone man facing a vast army.

Danos was bewildered. Once, on another battlefield, he seemed to have seen the same scene. Endless Undead, with only despair remaining. He even thought that only they were still resisting in Erune.

But today, he felt a profound anger.

This kingdom still had such a powerful army, but why was this army still his enemy? When facing Madara, where were they? They were tearing each other apart.

Can this kingdom really still be saved?

Danos felt the oncoming despair, and he closed his eyes.

In the darkness, it was a vast, swaying rainy night, a beam of firelight reaching the heavens.

The South Gate was now near.

So Brand also stopped discussing his ancestry. He knew better than anyone. At this moment, an army of a size beyond his previous estimation was crossing the Ampezel Strait, appearing on this very battlefield from thousands of miles away. The area around Ampezel was instantly teeming with armies, becoming a perilous place.

Whether from his own deductions or the information from Danos, the conclusion was clear.

However, the Southern Army’s Flying Dragon Squad was retreating steadily.

Brand had already ordered them to retreat toward Holy White Bay. This was the final retreat; whether they succeed or fail depended on this last stand.

And their time was running out.

He had led the officer cadets of the Royal Knight Academy through the entire southern city of Ampezel, from Old Fisherman’s Street to Virequin Square, without a trace of the enemy.

Though Brand had his doubts, he dared not delay. The massive fortress at the South Gate of Ampezel port seemed to appear in his sight instantly.

But it seemed like a dead silent fortress.

Where was the Harbor Guard?

Brand and everyone couldn’t resist looking up, and they saw a familiar figure appear in their view.

The long street seemed like Holy White, under the golden sunlight.

And on the fortress, that person smiled slightly, then raised his hand high. With a thunderous sound, the massive South Gate of Ampezel port was slowly opening.

Everyone couldn’t help but gape.

Count Oting proudly stood on the city wall, his hand on his longsword, watching that gradually revealing army on the long street. More precisely, he watched the young lord leading at the very front of that army.

It was like seeing that spark of inspiration in the long, dark night.

He believed there was going to be a moment, that this miracle would return to Erune. But it wasn’t until he saw Princess Griffine behind Brand that he understood, Martha had never left her people.

Brand smiled too.

It seemed as if he’d returned once more to those thrilling times in history, surrounded by like-minded companions. The Eruein people had never given up, and neither had they.

Even when facing a vast army, so what?

"At the Trade Wind Ring, I heard you would save this kingdom," Count Oting shouted loudly from the city wall: "But I didn’t believe it!"

"So you came?"

"Yes," Count Oting laughed heartily: "So I came."

"I want to witness it for the Princess personally."

"All of it."

Behind Brand, the Half-Elf girl bit her lip, but tears glimmered in her silver eyes. The kingdom may have decayed, but new shoots were being born within.

Like life, the cycle continues unending.

Reincarnation goes on.

...(To be continued. If you like this work, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets, your support is my greatest motivation.)