The Amber Sword

Baron Groudin has struck a ringing finger in Brando's reflection room. Immediately the two servants put up each with a wooden box, and they emptied the table, then placed the wooden box in front of Brando, bowed slightly, and then retreated.

Baron stood up and made a gesture to Brando, please.

“What is this?” Brando thought this guy would never send him anything good, and while he was a Viscount, Groudin couldn't stop him. Besides, he had a good punch in the face, and the guy pasted it upside down, that's not a cheap word to describe anymore.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding to Antina, indicating that she had opened the box.

Immediately after being instructed to open the box, the nobleman Qianjin plays the role of a Viscount's companion, naturally behaving appropriately, and cannot ask for advice on everything as usual. But Antina had just opened the first box and the motion was frozen.

Looking in Brando's direction, he could see the noble girl holding her teeth tight to restrain herself from screaming.

What's going on here?

Antitina stayed half way in front of the wooden box, as if something magical had been done, and Brando saw her throat tremble slightly, almost making a slight click. The girl took a deep breath and eventually turned aside.

With a bang, the fork in little Roman's hand fell onto the plate.

Brando's face changed momentarily.

Because there's a human head in the open box...

To be exact, he had seen the swordsman's head before; his eyes were closed, he had lost blood, and his skin was pale as if it were a layer of rubber.

Brando was silent.

Antitina took a careful look at him and endured and finally breathed out a gentle sigh of breath to open the other box - although the heart of an aristocratic young girl was almost crumbling, she still played her part strongly. Her fingers were almost so shaky that she couldn't hold onto the cover of the box that she slowly opened it until she calmed down.

Inside is another female element that makes the head.

Antitina face is bloodless.

“That woman tastes good," Baron Groudin replied, smiling slightly. "But gentlemen don't take away the good. I heard that the wine glass made by the girl's skull was used to serve the wine deliciously, and I'm sure Lord Viscount hasn't tried it. As for the other, let's call it a gift--”

His voice had just fallen, and everyone in the lobby heard a buzz.

They immediately saw Brando's sword in his waist automatically trembling halfway, making a sharp noise, as if he were screaming for a killing, like he was about to lash out the next moment; the young man's hands pressed against the table, his lips tight and silent, but everyone felt an icy breath spreading from the young man ——

There is a real intent to kill.

Several nobles sitting next to Brando were the first to strike, and the knife and fork in their hands fell to the ground, and they were horrified to death. The cold air spread forward as the knights pulled out their swords in an attempt to protect Groudin, who smiled and seemed to be savoring the pleasure of playing with his opponents.

But the smile immediately froze on his face.

Because almost everyone in the room saw a layer of white frost climbing along the table - starting in front of Brando, the silver plate ‘snapped’, while the porcelain burst, and the fragmented porcelain pieces broke again, turning into smooth particles or powder on the edges - the white frost went forward for a long time, and the tableware on the table blew apart, forming a faint white mist, as if an invisible giant beast was crossing the table and attacking Groudin directly across the street.

The two knights in front of the baron groaned and broke a long piece of sword in their hand, and they immediately screamed and covered their eyes, bleeding between their fingers.

Yet the cry in the lobby is far less sudden than the shock inside. Because when you see this scene, everyone can think of only one word ——

Element sensing.

Even Brando did not expect to understand the meaning of the elements in the realm of fury; at that moment he felt as if his thoughts were in an endless black cold, the struggle between the two wounded others, and Groudin's despicable and cowardly behaviour completely crossed one of his most forbidden bottom lines.

Brando was disgusted, yes, a disgust born from the deepest part of his heart. He looked at the foreskin, dressed in a baron, and the bones were filthy, and the fake smile on his face seemed to be distorted into an absurd abstract graphic.

In his heart, he created an impulse to make this filth disappear completely from the world.

But out of infinite anger, Brando came up with another idea. It's not a cold kill, it's static —— space is static, bright and angry, yet another self-censored thought emerges from that idea. This idea brightens the mind of a young man, as if he could see his anger from a superficial perspective and grasp it calmly.

Or as if there were two Brandos at this moment. A Brando completely embroiled in an infinite killing spirit, a Brando calmly looking at this anger from a point of view beyond his own.

So Brando finds that he can fully grasp the anger in his heart.

He felt his power was multiplying, a feeling that merged with that gained from his grandfather's battle, and Brando finally touched a solid barrier.

He knows,

That's the Wall of Vegetables--

The moment he touched the wall, he felt a few very short words in his heart: still, still, stable. And then the wall relentlessly bounced him back, trying to shock open elements? Not good enough!

Then all the illusions collapsed, and the spiritual world seemed fragmented, and time instantly resumed flowing, pulling him back to reality.

Then Brando heard the sound of stir-fried beans, the glass, the porcelain, blowing up in front of him; the temperatures in the lobby seemed to drop by dozens of degrees, and the walls were covered with thick white frost.

The first thing Brando raised his head to was to put his hands on a silver-plated blade handle, just one move, and Baron Groudin and the more than twenty knights behind him were forced to take a big step backwards by the invisible momentum, and the chairs behind him were brushed with a crackling sound, crumbling into butterfly-dancing pieces of wood.

“Protect me! ”

Baron Groudin screamed.

The knights beside him, though uncomfortable, had to pull their swords on their scales under orders; waiting for them was Brando's bland sword -

Thumb and index finger against the cross guard hand, pinky finger holds the handle of the sword, middle finger and unnamed finger together with the palm of the hand to control the stability of the sword. Wrists swing from left to right, and elbows and shoulders have drawn one of the simplest curves.

White Crow Sword Art.

Power eruption--

From that point of view, this is the most basic sword technique. As if it were the first sword cut by a beginner, the trajectory is clear and the intention is obvious, even a slightly experienced person can easily tell how the sword should arrive.

Yet none of the twenty median black iron knights is able to escape.

That sword seemed to be stretched out in space, and the frightening cold light on the blade made everyone feel bitter cold from the bones. Chill climbs up along each of their bodies, then instantly frosts to form a thick layer of ice cap.

Elements, ice.

Moves can 't--

A white light swept through and twenty heads took off high. Almost everyone was scared at that moment, no, not just scared, but horrified to be alone. A voice of chairs and utensils rolled over, the nobles on both sides of the table rolled back and climbed against the walls on both sides - not even cold, as if they were afraid to come near this terrible young man.

Twenty ice sculptures fell in front of themselves and turned into lifeless bodies. It was only for the first time that the breath of death appeared so bluntly before Baron Groudin. Every time he lived, he grasped the life and death of others with such tolerance, but at this moment he finally understood that when life was relentlessly contained, the weak side seemed weak as a drowner unable to resist destiny.

That was the deepest sorrow, and the proudest civilization of humankind was completely trampled upon.

He finally couldn't bear it. He thought Brando was just a silver median swordsman at best. This identity is on par with him, and of course they can come and go, and I exhaust the means to give each other a disembarkation horse.

But now he finally finds himself wrong, and that's not a silver swordsman at all. It's a terrible presence that has touched the edge of the element, no, once the element has been catalyzed, it's already inhuman.

What was sitting in front of me was not such a good mess, but a choosing beast.

Brando stood coldly in front of him, and the long table suddenly 'ripped’ into two pieces. The other side didn't even see how he did it, just saw the young man move forward, and there was no further obstacle between the Baron and him.

Brando didn't say a word and pressed the handle again.

“I am the lord of the kingdom--! ”

Groudin collapsed and couldn't help crying. He looked around in panic, hoping to see anyone come to save him, unfortunately, nobody. Everyone was scared, and they didn't expect a good banquet to develop, or they wouldn't expect a strong person touching the edge of the element to run to a remote place.

Brando stepped over and looked at this guy like a dog.

His hands sank, ready to end this guy's life.

But it was at this time that Brando felt a hand on his hand. He looked back slightly and saw Sy with his trident and amber eyes upside down and looked at himself seriously.

“Sy?”

The red-haired ponytail girl looked at him and shook her head.

(PS. Classmates who feel the situation is inconsistent, please keep looking. Because every day is limited to the length of updates, not everything you want to express can be displayed, and the answers you need will appear later.) (To be continued, please go to www.qidian.com for more chapters, support the author, and support authentic reading!)