The Amber Sword

Slowly rising to the roof with hot air, the Tilmouth's ice making technique is remarkable, at least far beyond the level at which they built their tents. Each ice surface fits tightly together and does not feel uneven from the surface by hand.

Brando immersed himself in the hot springs and looked at the fog - as White Mist said, the Tyrmouth who led him here to bathe and change before arranging for him to meet the wise - after all, meeting the wise was a sacred ritual for the Tyrmouths.

He thought there was no environment for bathing on this floating ice, probably a stimulating ice bath, and for the Timothians, who were born with elementary power, there seemed to be no difference in essence between showering ice and warm baths. But when he arrived, he realized that there was such a warm spring in this ice house stacked by the Tyrmouths.

Naturally there is no geothermal heat on the floating ice. Most of this spa is magically generated, and the people of Timothy do not need to maintain such a spa at all times. This spa, or even this ice house, is mostly reserved for him.

To think of it, Brando couldn't help but feel a little flattered. He knew why the Timorese respected themselves and couldn't help but worry for a moment if these Timorese became angry when they learned that they didn't really have the resources to trade.

At the corner of the ice house lay a sip of rock pot, where the fairies lit a meditative incense with a hint of mystery, rising from the flames into the mist of water.

Brando's fog appeared as if it was illusion, showing a strange landslide in front of him, and a scene appeared in front of him, suddenly re-enacting his experiences after he had crossed.

He saw the battle in the ring of the wind, where the enemies he met were far from the most brutal compared to those who followed him, but that battle was the one he remembered most.

It was also the most difficult battle, and even the subsequent battle of Ambessel, as well as the confrontation with the Empire, with Her Majesty the Queen, was far from the crisis of that time.

He couldn't help touching the scar on his cheek, which was left in the battle of the rings of the wind.

There was also a scar on the chest and arms, all of which were left over from multiple battles, and although there were many ways to completely eliminate them in Warnde, Brando did not go to great lengths. Instead of treating scars as medals like some perverted nobleman, it simply seemed unnecessary.

When he stood up from the water, the water beads naturally rolled down the firm and evenly proportioned muscle lines and dried instantly. He opened his arms and naturally wore a grey cloth robe, the style of which was no different from that of the Tyrmouths.

The fairies outside seemed to notice the change in the house, and they flew into the ice room, looking curiously at Brando, circling him for two or three laps before falling squeamishly on his shoulder. With spices in their hands, they sprinkled them carefully on Brando's body, who immediately smelled a strange odor in his nose. His spirit shook slightly, and a system prompted him to jump right out of his curtain:

“Gain 17334 points of experience. ”

That's one percent of his total experience, and Brando immediately figured out what this spice was, meditation, a spice that was said to come from some elemental whale in the shallow ocean, and its role was to make it clear to the mind to look at itself, and according to the player, to increase experience directly.

But Brando had only seen the kind of mindfulness that was made of incense, one that worked for a minute, gaining one percent of the experience every second, like these little fairies that were so luxurious to use, and he had never seen it before.

Experience suggests that a total of three jumps is enough for Brando to upgrade an entire rank on the Holy Knight and Frost Land Guard.

“What a luxury.” He couldn't bear to think.

“Are you taking me to the wise now?” He asked.

“The wise want to see you.” The fairies answered with one voice.

They clearly said the same sentence, but they spoke differently, and their voices were also chirping and quite joyful.

Brando wears a shawl woven in sharp seal skin - one of the courtesies necessary to meet the wise man, who naturally doesn't understand, but there's fog in it, and it doesn't make a mistake. He walked out of the ice house, White Mist and Malocha had been waiting outside for a long time, and Mias shrunk herself into the hairs of a crystal stag, and she was immediately shallow for a long time and seemed a little out of tune with the climate.

Brando looked up to the distance, and this Port of the Timorese, called the Port of Eternal Winter, was built only on ice, but not on a small scale. This is not a temporary landing spot, as White Mist calls it, but a permanent city, at least Brando sees all kinds of permanent buildings like seawalls, stackbridges and streets.

A ray of light passes over huge floats of ice, between clouds and fog, far from the dusty sky and the sea of the Rage of the Wind - the shallow sea has changed since they entered the sea of mist, before becoming more gentle and calm and manic.

He saw a fleet of Tillmoors in the harbor, a dark, sunken piece, kind of like a Vikings warship, just bigger and more spectacular. He also saw some Timorese gathered in the square in small numbers, but there were also twenty or thirty in close proximity.

These elements are fairly faint, as if there were no unexpected visitors, and most of the time he didn't feel like someone was measuring him, except for the occasional 'gaze’.

Except the fairies...

There were fairies everywhere in the camp, and they seemed to be more numerous than the Timorese, and Brando did not know whether it was normal or not, nor did he ask White Mist, just because the fairies themselves liked living with the Timorese.

Besides, aren't the fairies who brought him here earlier residents?

Those naturally curious little fairies are hiding around, sneaking up on this bunch of unexpected guests, pointing out curiously, clamoring their opinions —— most of them like, "Is this human?" How did they get here? I hear humans are divided into men and women? Is she a boy or a girl? What's that little white dot? Topics like that.

The little white mist saw Brando come out and jumped on his shoulder and said, "These little things are disgusting. ”

“It's not their fault.” Brando replied less carelessly that the fairies were always curious, which was their nature, but most of them were not malicious - although a few forest fairies were fond of pranks.

But he immediately shut up.

He saw a rare fire fairy —— a square not far from here, of course, not like a human square, often either a fountain or a statue. The Piazza del Timorese is their sacrificial site, where a stone column is erected, with a thick rope tied to it, and a rope filled with a rope, with different patterns painted with white dye. These knots are sacred to the Tyriots and represent the most significant events that a clan has experienced in the past, and of course only the wise will often be able to spell out their origins - and that little fairy sits at the top of the stone column in the square, which, while not a forbidden place for the Tyriots, is nevertheless noteworthy for the little ones who dare to sit on the most sacred places of others.

The little guy had wheat-colored skin, a short, flame-like hair, a naked upper body, a pair of thinly shattered trousers and bare feet. His eyes sparkled like gold, a belt running through his shoulder, attached to his waist on the other side, hanging a sword sheath with a large sword with both hands.

And of course, this sword is only about one slap long for Brando.

But a flame fairy with a sword is rare anyway.

No, it should be said that the Flame Fairy itself is rare.

The Fire Fairies are the subjects of Forcedes, and they are arrogant, intelligent, curious, and wary of humans. They are a kind of alien among the fairies. And fairies are said to be mostly female, only the flaming fairies are male, and they usually live in scorching flames, rarely in the outside world, let alone in the shallow sea.

There's no fire element that doesn't hate water.

“That's interesting.” Brando glanced at the little fairy.

The fairy seemed to notice them too, but he just looked over his head and turned his attention away. They don't like humans, and they're not as curious about things as other fairies.

In fact, the people of Vlades were a little apathetic, not as enthusiastic as the fire elements had bred.

“You noticed that fairy, too?” White mist stood on his shoulder and asked.

Brando was following the herd of guiding fairies in front of him through the camp to the tent where the legendary wise man was, and he nodded and asked, "Why? ”

“Have you noticed that his sheath resembles that of the Blade of Fire? You know, Odyphus is the holy sword of fire elements, and that sheath suggests that he owns part of Odyphus' rule, and this little fellow may be the blood of Fursades, who is a fairy prince.” White fog whispered.

“Prince Fairy?” Brando was stunned, and his knowledge of fairies was limited to their nature, but few people actually had an in-depth understanding of the organizational relationship of these elemental creatures, just as few players knew the Timothians, even in past games.

“Are fairy princes common? ”

“Common?” White fog looked at him a little silently: “Very rarely, the fairy royal family rarely appeared outside, let alone the subjects of Fusedes, you might want to pay some attention later, this Tyrmouth might have to camp a little extraordinary. ”

Brando silently nodded.

By this time, the fairies had split up in two rows in front of him, and Brando stopped and saw a huge tent ahead.

But this tent is not like the coarse and indiscriminate huts he saw along the way. It is more like a palace, supported by the teeth of eight giant beasts, up to twenty and thirty meters high, with rows of two or two opposite rows of clean beast teeth running down the tent door to his feet.

Brando raised his head and saw the lead man he had met on the stack bridge not far away - of course, based solely on the tattoo on the other person's face.

After all, in his view, the Timorese almost all look alike, except for the slight difference in height and shortness, and the fact that adults and young individuals are barely visible, only about the tattoos on their bodies differ.

Brando couldn't even tell the difference between the sexes, and once he doubted whether the Timothians really possessed the attribute of gender, but White Mist told him that the Timothians, although elemental creatures, were sex-differentiated and that they still needed to form a family to reproduce the next generation.

And while it is impossible to distinguish the men and women of the Timothy from the details, there is a simple way that the female Timothy does not paint her face.

And the tattoo is not the mark it uses to distinguish individual differences, but the symbol of status; according to the white mist, the concentric round tattoo on the face of the Tyrmouth who led them indicates that it is at least one of the elders of this clan.

Brando found out that these Tyrmouths actually sent an elder to guide themselves.

He pays tribute to each other - although human etiquette is not universal in many worlds and places, the same significance is shown in the deities and gestures.

The elder also saluted him and said a strange thing.

“He says the wise have been waiting inside for a long time.” White fog answer.

“Go straight in?” Brando looked at the concealed tent cloth curtain and asked.

“Of course, the Timorese don't have a lot of red tape. ”

“That's not much? ”

Brando, of course, had no intention of saying it in person. He only reached out and picked out the drapes, and then the whole person was completely corrupted.

There are not three people standing from left to right in a spacious tent.

On the far left is a woman, tall and thin, but with a luxurious look, with a silver crown on her head, a silk veil robe with an elf-specific temperament, with a cane in her hand, but the whole person is not an entity, but an illusion projected by magic.

This woman Brando knew that she had met the Queen of the Tree Pokémon, the Queen of the Little Pokémon, on the Evergreen Walk.

By her side, she was a cooler looking woman with short hair, a simpler grey cloth robe, no decorations on her body, and even a belt attached to the robe was just a long line of linen. She's familiar with this costume, Brando, and that's how the Bitter Brothers are all over Warnde.

But she was more familiar with Brando herself than with her outfit.

She is Ellanta, the only human sage on earth a thousand years after the Battle of Saints.

As for the third person, a leprechaun with a laurel, Brando almost ignored it. After all, this leprechaun, whom he had never met, could not attract any attention compared to the first two.

The wise man and the Elf Queen have yet to speak, and the first to speak was the little fairy.

And she wasn't even talking to Brando, and she looked at Malocha around Brando and said, “Mr. Malocha? ”

Brando stayed.

Marocha also stayed, and he asked stunnedly: "Lauro...? ”

……