The Amber Sword

In the middle of nowhere, Brando always felt like he'd seen this forest. But it's no surprise that the dream of the unknown blends with his memory fragments, a dream that itself is filled with his personal imprint.

He stayed by the river for a while and suddenly remembered. He remembered when he was a kid, there was a park near his house, and the pine trees in the park were so tall.

Brando's heart suddenly pounded.

He remembered his childhood and his parents. They were young and proud of him. When he was young, like all children, he was confident that he could afford it.

But he finally let them down.

Brando used to think that disappointment was due to his own failure. To escape, he became obsessed with the game; but only in the dream of the Golden Tree did he encounter Eruin's sword saint, ‘his’ grandfather - understand how wrong he was.

But does he still have a chance to ask for forgiveness?

Is Lord Martha willing to give him this chance?

Brando looked out of the forest and couldn't help but hold his heart. He remembered that, every holiday, there were celebrations in the park, and parents would take him or her to participate in the park activities.

He knew it was just a dream.

But standing by the river, it seemed to weigh a kilogram at the foot. The evening breeze passed and the woods roared. At this time, a fine footstep suddenly appeared in the forest, Brando slightly overhead, and his heart jumped.

“Anyone else? ”

Brando turned around and saw an unexpected man fall out of the woods - Prince Haruze. The little prince gasped sharply and raised his head to look at his teacher in surprise, but his eyes quickly turned red and tears sparkled in his eyes: "Mr. Brando... I thought I would never find you again. ”

Brando freaked out.

He never dreamed this little Zhengtai would break into his own dream. Although tactically, the dreams of the unknown reflect their incomplete memory, the world of dreams is filled with the memories of others - determined in Amber based on the player's experience - and sometimes other players get into the dreams of another player.

But the problem is -- this is modern! Modern!

Brando's got a mess in his head. What do we do? If the little prince sees his dreams, then so be it. Though he didn't live in a bustling city when he was a kid, this little county isn't much of a backward area. What does Haruze have to say about reinforced concrete buildings, high-rise buildings, cars and all that mess?

Why don't you knock Haruze out?

He shook his head immediately, which was unlikely, unless he wanted to murder the little prince here. Now that Haruze has entered his dreams, it is clear that the two of them have the same mission. If the little prince is unable to redeem himself, he will remain in the dream forever.

Brando thought about it here, and he was actually stuck there for a while.

“What to do…? ”

That's all he's got left in his head.

“Teacher?” Haruze saw Brando standing motionlessly by the river, looking straight at him, unable to help but a little scared, shrinking slightly back. He has never seen the Count like this before, and Brando is always very gentle on weekdays.

Although Brando's demands were somewhat harsh, Haruze was exacerbated by his sister and, on the contrary, most of the time he was very fond of the gentle Count.

“Uh... Haruze.” Brando whispered, deciding to inject the little prince first. After all, Haruze is not old enough, maybe he can get over it.

“Hmm?” Haruze gasped red-handedly and whispered.

“You know, we're in a dream...”

“I know, teacher. I just heard what you said, you said we were dreams of the unknown, dreams filled with our own memories.” The little prince answered seriously like a good student.

He was scared alone in the dark, but when he saw his teacher, his heart settled down again. Brando was the hero who saved Ambethel, but in his heart Brando was the hero who saved his sister.

This is more than any reason to trust him.

“No, please, forget the last sentence -" Brando couldn't help but groan.

He smiled and said warmly, "Yes, Haruze, but you know, dreams are weird, so whatever you see later, don't freak out. Let us not forget that we are still in a dangerous environment. ”

Brando laughed worse than he cried, trying to pull out the sword of the earth and stab himself to death.

Haruze blinked and the pointy ears of the half elf moved slightly. His silver eyes lit up with the moonlight and he nodded seriously: “I get it, teacher. I used to have strange dreams when I was a kid. ”

Seems like there's no one around, and the little prince isn't as shy as he is on weekdays. He and Brando had been together for months, and speaking naturally was not as hasty as it had been at first.

Brando was relieved.

“You come with me. ”

He nodded and turned around, crossing the beach and walking in the direction of the light source in the distant woodlands. Haruze embraces the lion's teeth, but he also tends to walk. The light had become brighter and brighter as they passed through a large black pine forest, but it was at this time that Brando suddenly squinted his eyes and slightly humbled.

He stopped and saw a wagon with an open door not far from the woodland.

He looked back at Haruze and thought of a dream projection other than that of this little prince. But the little prince was looking in that direction, as if he didn't understand what was happening.

But Brando didn't expect it to be too obvious. He was very brave and walked alone and found no one in the carriage. But there was a gleaming bloodstain on the seat, and the bloody smell was all over the woodland, slightly stingy.

“Teacher?” The little prince soon noticed an anomaly in the carriage.

Brando raised his hand to show his students how quiet they are. Every detail in a dream is not created by emptiness, and the scene is either a memory of him, or of a little prince, or part of the lost dream of a nameless person.

This looks like an assassination scene, and at the age of the little prince, the scene will definitely be remembered and will never be recognised. And he didn't seem to have any similar memories himself, and he thought, the only possibility left is part of the lost dreams of the lost.

Brando had to draw attention, and in this dream, the task was redemption. So the Lost Dream is a very important clue - the legendary Lost Name wanders in the Black Forest in order to recover the lost self. Most of them are due to remorse, so the task of dreaming is mostly to make up for regrets.

He buried his head and quickly found blood on the star dots around the carriage.

Brando immediately searched for these bloodstains and, not far away, he found his target on a black pine edge. It was a dead young man with a dagger stuck behind his back, his hips crouched, his head drooping down, almost leaning against his knees, already losing the breath of life.

When Haruze saw this scene, he couldn't help but make a slight 'ah’ sound.

“Do you know him?” Brando asked back.

“No.” The little prince shook his head.

“Then the power to examine the corpse rests with me.” Brando walked over and he lifted the young man's body. The young man still looks very clear, wearing clothes that reveal his aristocratic identity and want to be the descendants of a noble family.

He picked up the other guy's purse first, but as soon as he got the bag, it turned to dust. Brando said this phenomenon in a slight flash, tactfully, because everything in the dream is a residual memory, except for the deepest part, most of the other details do not exist, so contact with him becomes nothing.

But it was at this time that a thin piece of paper fell out of a purse that turned into sand and dust.

Brando picked up the piece of paper and found it blank.

As soon as he shrugged, he understood why. In this scenario, the most memorable of the unsung should be this piece of paper, which he remembered firmly, but even forgot what was written on it.

Brando looked at the young man again and found that there were no other more valuable clues. But he took a look at the seal ring on the young man's hand and wrote it down.

“Mr. Brando?” The little prince stared at the piece of paper in his hand, a little confused.

“This is the clue. But it's not enough to remind it of anything, and we need to go into the next scene, where we're going to help it trace everything back to who it really is -" Brando looked at the paper on his hand and replied.

And Haruze realized, “We're going to help him get his name back, aren't we, always? ”

“Almost.” Brando is satisfied with the enlightenment of his student.

“But since it's forgotten everything, how can we help it remember? It must have wandered through these woods for years. Even those histories have disappeared under dust. Can we really find the memories it wants from nothing?” Haruze wrinkled his fine eyebrows and looked a little curious.

“You remember, it's not exactly a memory, is it? There are memories of you and me in this world ——" Brando stopped suddenly and couldn't help but slap himself. But it has been said, and he goes on with utter frustration: “We look at its dreams, and it looks at our dreams, and the human experience is always similar, the same scene, and it may evoke its memories ——"

Haruze nodded and glanced admirably at his teacher.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Brando felt a little awkward in the face of a blushing, crystal bright eyes looking at his little Zheng Tai.

“Before Master Leewoods died, he used to tell me stories. I, I don't know if there's some disrespect for the dead, but I think the master doesn't have a teacher you know a lot about. ”

Nice kiss on this ass. Brando feels a little light, especially knowing that His Royal Highness the Little Prince is very simple and doesn't lie at all. He shot Haruze in the head: "Everyone has their own specialty.”

Then he got up straight and relieved. Once in the mission state, previous messy thoughts faded a lot and the whole person calmed down.

“It looks like a small town with bright lights over there. I think we can find some clues. Let's go together.” He looked at the edge of the woods and said knowingly.

“Mmm!”

Haruze nodded, clutching the lion's teeth.

Brando put the young man's body away, knowing that it was just a dream, but he did so out of respect for the dead. Those who lost their names wandered all day in the woods because of their remorse, and it was said that most of them had been spit on throughout their lives - but Brando believed that if a man knew remorse, he had at least one side of the earth in his heart.

Just for this heart of self-redemption, it deserves equal respect.

Then the two of them crossed here and moved on. It's only a short distance from the edge of the woodland, and if it were in the real world, young people's bodies and carriages would certainly not be discovered, but this is a dream, as Brando said, where there is only the very existence of memories, where reason does not exist.

Light flows into the forest like milk, shadowing the edges of the forest along a long slope. Brando marched in the opposite direction of light to the shadow, passing through the edge of the woods, suddenly gleaming in front of him.

But he stunned slightly.

Outside the woods is not the park he envisioned, and there are no projected reinforced concrete buildings, no cars, no skyscrapers.

A classic city stretches out of the forest, with a moat outside the city and scattered towns. The stars lit bright lights and a towering wall cut across it, surrounding the city far and close.

Slightly closer, an avenue runs through the forest, leading directly to the distant gates. There are lots of tents on both sides of the avenue with brilliant lights and gourmet vegetables and barrels. Not even far away, he set up a stage, and he saw clowns performing on it, actors singing and dancing, and laughing.

It looks like some kind of holiday celebration in the countryside of any part of Eruin.

But Brando couldn't stand it for a while because of the difference. Until Haruze came out from behind him and saw the distant city scream - 'Ah! ’

Brando knows what this short shout means.

Just like he knew the city.

Menstros.

King of Eluin.

(PS: There's another chapter, just a moment.) (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote on recommendations, monthly tickets (qidian.com), and your support is my biggest motivation.)