The Amber Sword

The young man finished and breathed heavily; he couldn't help coughing twice and his face became a little gray.

“But anger can't be eaten, young man," an elderly mercenary said, reluctantly looking at him, "you talk to them about codes, they talk to you about fists. They have big fists. What can you do? We're all here, but they still don't smell it. Why? Because they're not afraid of us at all. ”

“Even if we're going to attack the city, can we get in?” Another man also said, "Don't be unrealistic, don't forget that the son of a bitch has an army in his hand. ”

Young men in grey blue robes bit their teeth, but could not answer them.

But it was at this time that the crowd was disturbed. Everyone was stunned, and the mercenary leaders immediately turned around vigilantly and yelled, “What, what's wrong? What a mess! ”

“Boss, there seems to be another man in town. They have reinforcements!” Mercenaries close to the gates immediately shouted aloud.

When I heard that answer, everyone was frowning.

And reinforcements?

No wonder there's bullying.

……

In fact, when Roscoe took people up to the city wall, he saw that not far below the gate, the black pressures were all crowd--

As far as this moment goes down from the city plug, the entire plain outside the city is lit by a bonfire of star spots. At the edge of the campfire, there are admirers and countless mercenaries or adventurers.

The pale young man couldn't bear to snort cold.

He looked back at the platoon of black-blooded soldiers behind him, and he knew that hiding beneath it was actually one of the most basic components of a frightening bone skeleton, a soldier, Madara's ruthless killing machine.

His gaze returned to the plain, somewhat impatient, but he maintained a cold tone and said to the human officers around him: "Shout and tell them to give them half an hour to leave, or they will die. ”

His words were like a knife.

After all, rather than directing the battle here, the Sovereign Wizard would rather go back to his basement room and study the information he had looted from the library of mankind.

The noble officer looked carefully at him and hurriedly bowed his head. While he was somewhat strange as to where this strange friendly army came from, he also knew that it was reinforcements from the Lord - and he dared not ask too many questions about whether it was the minister next to the ruthless Baron, but had no doubt that the mysterious warriors standing beside them would be the dead army from Madara.

After all, this is probably too much to think about in any way.

The aristocratic officer returned to the city wall and straightened his throat, but his heart was gloomy; surrounded by these lowly mercenaries, he was already upset, you know, they were accustomed to the high toes of the aristocratic militia on weekdays, where it was expected that one day it would be his turn to be surrounded by others.

Even if it's just a siege without attack, it's enough to make these people feel disgraced. Immediately he waved and summoned the sorcerer apprentice, not far away, and gave the head full command:

“Crystal. ”

The Wizard Apprentice dared not be lazy and immediately inspired the amplification technique on the crystal.

The noble officer nodded satisfactorily, as if at this moment he was the commander of Commander Eruin's thousand armies, clearing his throat and shouting down the city:

“Down there, bitch, listen up--! ”

……

“Down there, bitch, listen up--! ”

Groudin's officers shouted and immediately launched a blatant wave of mercenaries beneath the city; all stopped unanimously, looking back in the direction of Cold Cedar City and waiting for each other in silence.

But there's no more...

Because the officer had just opened his mouth, and suddenly he was stuck, and he grabbed the Wizard Apprentice's amplifier crystal and now 'tapped' to the ground - the whole person could not make a sound.

He raised his head and watched as the mercenary below suddenly began behind the whole crowd after a disturbance, as if a giant beast had passed by and the crowd had automatically separated into two sides silently; and the giant beast formed in the shadow was moving forward silently and a little closer to the city gate.

What's that?

It wasn't just him, Roscoe closed his eyes and looked in that direction as if petrified.

……

“Guys!”

By the campfire, the young man who attacked the grey green robe looked at the people here with some disappointment: "Can't we just fight once, if only once? Yes, we are mercenaries, we are adventurers, but mercenaries also have the honor of mercenaries, the honor of guardians on the battlefield ——"

He looked at the others and asked, "Are we going to abandon this glory already, but not our companions, not our comrades, or mercenaries? ”

His words brought silence, as if they echoed the silence brought about by the distant shouts on the gates.

The mercenary commanders looked at each other, but they were still hesitant. They want to give their people a statement, but it's not that simple.

No one is willing to show weakness, but it is, after all, to challenge positively the lord of a kingdom, a baron, or even the son of Count Denel ——

If they choose to fight, there may be no place for them in this kingdom in the future.

This option puts them in a difficult position.

The young man sighed for a long time: "I'm sorry, it seems I'm too hard on the strong..." He stood up and said: "Okay, but in any case, those crucifixes need an answer, and I know your difficulties - so if you can't answer them, I'll answer them for you. ”

“If you always need someone to die, let me die with my people this time. I just hope that you will never forget that day, when that cold-blooded baron trampled not only on the lives of your fellow citizens, but also on your dignity. ”

After that, he turned around and left.

But before he took two steps, someone called him, “Young man! ”

The young wizard apprentice stopped.

“The green hills are full of wood, have you forgotten what the adult told you to pass on? I think what he means is, maybe one day he'll bring us justice...”

“Do you believe that?” The young man interrupted him with a cold grunt, and he turned back: “Do you believe in such a simple answer? None of those so-called big, tall people are good--”

His words suddenly broke.

The young man's pupils zoomed in in circles, and he was somewhat reluctant to watch the crowd riot behind him, and then split one layer apart. Like a retreating tide, or an invisible giant beast that separates the crowd, forcing them to give way to both sides.

The campfire was slightly dark and the air was cooling rapidly.

The ground formed a white frost at visible speeds to the naked eye.

Then the young wizard apprentice took a gentle breath, and he had seen the figure behind the crowd.

A young man, a little girl, one sword at a time.

Single-handedly, no forward movement.

Brando held Fania with one hand and walked one step forward, and he moved forward, and the momentum of the Golden Step was like an invisible sword separating the crowd, and the slightly slower step was almost unbreathable by the cold breath.

No one dared to stop him, and a wide avenue immediately opened between him and the South Gate of Cold Cedar City.

Nor does anyone dare to make a sound, and all the mercenaries and adventurers present watched the scene silently:

Watching Brando pass between them, watching the mercenaries behind them keep a certain distance up, a group of followers silently following a person, as if it were a relationship between a knight and a king.

They also saw the young man holding the little girl in his hand without a word, slowly walking under the gate and stopping.

Everybody watch this.

Fania also looked up at Brando, her green eyes filled with dependence; the little girl placed her little hand in Brando's warm hand, walking both ways, through the dark woods, through the wilderness under the night, and there was always this feeling in her heart:

It's like Mom and Dad.

It's warmth and tranquility.

Brando's hand is like a harbor.

Brando also raised his head and his cold eyes reflected the pale face of the noble officer.

“What do you want me to hear," the young man's voice is not high, but it is clearly heard throughout the silent camp of the raven: "Soldier? ”

The noble officer standing on the head of the city was nitrogen.

He opened his mouth and even though he had just been swept by the young man, it seemed like a sword in his chest could not breathe. He subconsciously turned to Roscoe for help, but found that there was no one else on the walls.

He called himself bitter in his heart, but was forced by Brando's impulse, and had to stutter and reply: "I mean, you, you... each of you... spread out, no... or you... will die. ”

The mercenaries downtown were in a commotion, and all these people knew that the cold-blooded baron would never joke with them; so the order was that a lot of people would get a little unsettled.

But Brando just nodded.

“Finished? ”

He asked.

“Finished, finished...” The noble officer was sweating cold on his hands, he did not know why he was so afraid of war, he knew that the boy was still far from himself, but he always had the illusion that a sword was hanging over his head.

Brando nodded again.

“Well, now it's my turn...”

Speaking, he stepped forward, pressing the sheath down with his left hand, holding the handle of the sword in his right hand - as if it were a silver hue; yet everyone saw the young man pull a long silver wire from the bottom up!

But that's not the line.

It's the trajectory of the sword.

From the bottom up.

A ripple followed Brando's sword forward, wind pressure not yet reached, the gate ‘clicked’ inward recessed, and then collapsed into powder between moments...

Ripple forward, the fortress of the gates collapses halfway along a neat cut along Brando's sword...

The sword wind swept through it, as if the wind had blown away the sandy castle, and a section of the wall nearly ten meters long had suddenly collapsed into dust and ash.

Brando danced the sword halfway through the air for a half circle, then took a step back.

Take the sword.

Still sheath.

‘Clicking’ softly, the sword has been broken into four pieces!

……

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