The Amber Sword

“Bills' third line of defense has been breached! ”

“Sir Laval's battalion is requesting backup! ”

“Enemy flight units appear at the Spire of the Lion Beast...”

“They're at 12 o'clock! ”

Veronica has a cold face.

The female commander made a gesture towards a heavy crossbowman from Yadee not far away, and the officer offered her a salute and rushed over the city with a heavily armored crossbowman.

The purple arc lights the sky from time to time and flickers away, but is enough to illuminate the entire vast battlefield.

The bright spots fluctuate, reflecting the light blue network behind it - a light screen about a dozen kilometres wide - behind which the enormous mass that has risen completely from the ground is suspended in the middle of the sky, flashing with a metallic glow, like a hexahexahedral prism thousands of metres across.

And that's the Tower of Heaven.

Under the reflection of this giant tower, the staggered mountains of the Arkash region are also like pockets of sand, and the human defense system is more like linear distribution of dust.

As for the human soldiers who rely on these fortresses to resist, they are almost invisible.

Yet the smaller ones, when they are large enough to cover the entire valley, still dye the entire earth - the red position of the Krutz on one side of the undulating hills and the purple ocean that thrusts forward, intersecting each other's teeth.

Veronica is watching the heavy crossbowmen moving up the walls of the city.

At this distance, more than sixty crossbowmen are as small as a creeping black line. Nightmares roared down in the sky and crossbowmen had to stop to erect tower shields, and from time to time people fell down the walls of the city.

Death is nothing more than an ordinary thing here.

Veronica had some peace in her heart, as if life and death had made it harder for her to give birth, a mechanical indifference that permeated everyone on the battlefield. She frowned and put one hand on her belly, and the squamous armor was covered in noticeable rose red, a mouth ripped open by six inches of fangs.

Just for a moment, another bunch of pale purple arcs crossed the skies ——

The whole world is mirrored in purple by staggering mountains and hiding the intricate valleys beneath them.

But a moment later, the world returned to darkness, and the gloomy battlefield turned invisible.

The imperial elements on the Knowledge Spire are brewing to fight back, singing echoes in the night sky, and a bright golden flame ring appears above the clouds.

Fire and rain appeared in the sky, with long tail marks on the golden red flame beams, like steel water falling from the clouds and sparks falling deep into the valley of Arkash. And before the flames fell, there was a dense cluster of seas.

They march in the flames.

And trampled death.

Though the clusters have yet to break into the last few lines of defense.

But it's not far.

In Vaughn's history, defenses in wars that have traditionally revolved around walls and fortresses have never been isolated, even in legendary fortresses built by gods like the Tower of Heaven.

But with the fall of that era above the clouds, the defensive systems that were built by the great beings of the past, this morning is gone, the glorious history has become buried under the dust of the past, today it is only scarred.

Although Wind Elves and Cruz rebuilt the system.

But how can a man's poor craftsmanship be compared to the miracles created by the gods? Babel once had a reputation for never falling, but now, no one dares to exaggerate.

Defenders do not fail to understand that this fortress can serve as a basis for their minds, but there are not many cards.

Veronica stands, occasionally looking west, and that direction is where the elves stand, and it's raining.

The powerful dominance of the Golden Pokémon Archers on the battlefield effectively contained the momentum of the Cluster Army forward. In the sea of the Cluster, the figure of the immense Siege-level Cluster immediately appeared. The floating purple began to advance again, and the Pokémon were forced to retreat, and there were dot gaps on the complete defense line.

Wind Pokémon have redeployed the most elite Hurricane Corps from the Four Realms, a six-century enemy of the Red Legion, and the Guard of Commanders from the Sage Age, which was preceded by twenty-four Wind Knights.

But Lord Isdoville, King of Loringdale, the Commander of the Wind Elves, is more aware that the power available to him is not abundant.

He had to pull out half of his most important Pokémon Archers to support his human allies, or the remnants of the Kurdish Youth and Black Legions that had been so easily preserved from East Mets would have lost their blood in the war.

This is a battlefield consideration, but more importantly, the elves value their commitment.

While both have been enemies of death several times in the past centuries, so have the vows engraved on the tablet a thousand years ago, and perhaps on that day the elves decide to choose such a place to fight to death, and they will not hesitate to believe in the person behind them.

Even if the other party is Krutz.

The battle has reached its most white-hot stage, with a wave of terror that is no longer enough to describe the attacks of the clusters, and that stands at the forefront of the human fortress one by one, while the Knights of the Order are shouting out the names of those forces that have not yet fallen - but this list is getting shorter and shorter.

“Sir Marques and his Highland Infantry Battalion are seeking help, Sir Sprune is still here, and Wade Quasi-Kensei and his battalion are retreating...”

A parchment was thrown in the aisle.

Finally, he had the last one left on his skinny hand.

The third line of defense has collapsed at this moment.

But there is also a final reef in this raging wave.

“Sir Valar is still here! ”

“Sir Vallard, they retreated into the Golden Falcon Fortress. ”

When I read it for the third time, the knight looked up stunned and shook: “Sir Laval... Sir Laval, they are still there. ”

A lot of people stayed.

In Varache, there is a place called the Shalada, where a brown river flows.

On that fertile soil, there was a group of people who had fought against the mountain people for generations, descended from the Krutz, but were not treated to the mainstream society of the Empire. The Schettlers like to be sarcastic about the Empire's small family, because they are descendants of warriors, and for decades every Schettlerian has hated the Empire for their betrayal.

The Empire embraced the mountain people, but forgot about the Shiites.

Count Laval is an authentic Schettler who stubbornly adheres to the old doctrine and is not tolerated by the superior society; what is even more irritating is that he is a so-called dissident and, simply put, he is the dead loyal of Queen Constance.

Such a man, naturally, would not have liked it there, let alone would have been deprived of his aristocracy if it had not been for the fall of Constance and the subsequent demise of the Empire - perhaps on a gallows.

The Duke of Ludwig had cynically accused the man of being insensitive, and the nobles who had lost their lives during the war in East Metz were furious, claiming more than once publicly that the farmers from Schettier were a bunch of savages.

But the Shiites fought courageously, and the region's history was filled with the best archers and light infantry in the entire empire.

The center of the battlefield ——

The clusters climbed the outer walls of the castle, and the Shantians retreated into the castle; the clusters broke through the castle, and the Shantians died guarding the inner walls; and after even the inner walls changed hands, the Shantians retreated into the spire.

They have little left, but the spire still stands.

Like a pointy tooth penetrating a purple ocean.

The Duke of Ludwig subconsciously approached the castle, “What are you still waiting for? Go get them back -!” He raised his muscles like an angry lion, yelling at his knights.

One hand broke his words, and Mangrove looked at the knight of the preaching.

The knight's voice is a little stiff: “Sir Laval and his warriors are asking for backup...”

“What kind of support do they need? ”

“Sir, look for yourself...”

A tiny figure climbed to the top of the spire and raised a flag at the top of the tower.

“It's Sir Laval!” Someone shouted.

But more people watched the flag silently.

It was a brown flag, and the shape of a piece of land on it was the land guarded for generations by the Schettlers, their homeland, the wilderness surrounded by the brown river.

The brown white belly falcon sculpture represents the fearless spirit of the Schettler, while the rice ear contains the deepest hope of the land. Under the rice ear is the titled lark of the lion, and the Schettler is equally faithful and faithful.

It was a purple fury.

is also a lonely flag.

Many people shed tears and regretted what they had done in the past.

These farmers from Schettier prove their loyalty and courage to the Empire, but the Empire can no longer compensate for its narrowness and prejudice, which may be the source of all disintegration.

At this moment, Mangrove suddenly thought of the small country on the southern side of the empire, the fearless monarch, with the sword he had taken away.

The Duke of Ludwig was powerless against the wall and silent.

“They, requesting the use of the Golden Flame Angel...” replied the knight of the preaching.

“Target." Mangrove asked softly.

The knight was told to open his mouth, but the crowd already had the answer.

It's like a king who needs a scepter and a sword at the same time to preserve his majesty, and the Golden Flame Angel, Babel, symbolizes the sword of justice and majesty. The golden beams converge downwards and upwards along the six-sided prisms, which may have traveled several kilometres, but have actually converged to a point in an instant.

The sky seemed to be lit, and the clouds burned.

A fiery red beam plunges from the top down into the dark mountains and then disperses into millions of beams ploughed through the clusters of oceans. With just one hit, tens of thousands of crystal clusters will be extinguished.

The entire purple ocean offense is one of stagnation.

But in the heart of the columns, the tall spires leave only the remains of the scorched black.

Flagged as a little ash, scattered in the breeze before dawn.

Some aristocratic ladies cry back over the walls of the city without suppressing this shocking slaughter.

The Golden Flame Angel should not have been used at this time, but it is known that only the bravest men deserve the sword - the Shiites have proven their courage. When Mangrove walked down town, he patted an old man on the shoulder, meaning to tell the Duke of Ludwig:

Many will die here, but the living must continue to fight.

At the Spire of the Lion Beast, a battle without suspense is coming to an end, and there is no hope of victory for mankind.

The young officer from Yade stood on the walls of the city and offered a knight's gift to his commander from afar, with the respect of his heart in his eyes, and then he jumped and fell down the cliff.

Countless nightmares are climbing to the city.

Veronica looked at the scene expressionlessly.

“Time to retreat.” Mayfister told her.

“I can't even remember his name, but I know that kid is a Knight of the Folding Knights,” she whispered to Greysword Sacred Taoist: “They are the finest young men in the empire. ”

“I know them,” Mayfist said of his former enemies, “admirable. ”

“Bring my horse, I'm going to see Isdovelle. ”

She turned around and left.

Mayfist grabbed her arm and shook her head: “Why, you know it's not working, the elves are bitter, and you still have injuries. ”

“We could all die here, and that would be nothing,” Veronica replied softly. “Do you want me to give up? We can go back now, but we can always go back. ”

……

Aruta stared at the mess left behind after the argument...

The table rolled over to the ground, the parchment and cartridge rolled down, and the elf guards stood embarrassed at the door, moving in and out of the way. The skinny king of Loringdale, dressed in black cashmere, shook his head and bent over to pick up a military map from the ground, his palm pale as a vampire.

Describing the face of Lord Pokémon in the depths of his eyes is like a bright flame, but his lips are extremely thin, as if he were ruthless and extremely opinionated.

Isdoville grinned again and shook the dust off the parchment. Everyone here was impressed by the anger of the female Legion Leader, but he just didn't think that after all these years, she was still a girl.

“Why didn't you promise her? ”

Aruta finally couldn't help but ask, although he was a little scared of the person in front of him, his anger was invisible.

“Why do you say yes?” Isdoville looked at the young Crown Prince and asked back.

“Isn't this self-help... this is the time? ”

“How can it be self-help?” Isdoville asks, "With Madara? ”

“But the wise man said...”

The king of Loringdale raised his hand to suggest that he would no longer have to go on: “Your Highness, I know more about what St. Osor needs than the wise men who live in history - well, the question is too complicated for you, and perhaps you should spend more time learning how to be a king and prince of the 'elves'. ”

The guards outside the door heard the faces of each other and thought that the adult had begun to talk nonsense again. This time, it involved the Lord after the wind, and there was no respect for His Royal Highness the Prince. But the good news is that they may have gotten used to it a long time ago, handing each other their eyes carefully, and the elf girls retreated silently.

Perhaps the others could pretend not to hear it, but Aruta could not.

He felt insulted.

He was already just a hunter's son, and he had been angry enough these days that the elves hadn't even seen him and his sister, and some people laughed at them for being dirt buns.

He removed the crown from the head and couldn't help but say aloud: “I know you haven't seen us at all, but I wouldn't have expected anything from you. If it hadn't been for the commission of Mr. Brando and Lord Sage, I wouldn't have come here at all... You can have this crown if you want, it wouldn't have belonged to me. ”

He threw the crown in his hand at each other.

Isdoville stopped abruptly and did not reach for it, leaving the crown ‘knock’ on the ground.

A purple arc stretches across the sky outside the borehole window, and the whole pitch-black house is lit.

Aruta was frightened, and he looked at the crown rolling in a busy way, which reminded him of the symbol of the Elf King. He couldn't help but get scared and whispered: “I... didn't mean to...”

The king of Lorrindale looked at him and bent over, picking up the crown with his hands, "Don't make me hear that again.” He said coldly.

“Then why did you have to leave us behind?” Aruta felt a tingle in his nose and the tears were almost spinning in his eyes. He was so grieved and scared: “If you didn't want to, let us go back. My sister and I were not elves! ”

'Cause you don't understand its weight. ”Eastville gently sweeps away the dust stained on the crown.

Then he raised his hands to the crown and placed it over the teenager's head.

Aruta was still tearful and saw the other party coming over, frightened and frozen, but he saw Isdovelle's movements for a while.

“You...”

“I do know St. Osor better than the Lord after the wind. ”

“But I have to admit, she knows better than I do who is better suited to this throne--”

Isdoville seems very serious: “The wind elves have long lacked a culture of inclusiveness and are therefore not amenable to the mainstream of civilization, and perhaps a human king is an opportunity to change everything. Solitude is just a helpless choice, especially today, when we all know that no one can face this enemy alone. ”

“If so… why not?” Aruta wiped her tears dry and sucked her nose and asked: “You clearly know that Madara is not behind the scenes of the White Mountains, … sorry, I eavesdropped on your conversation. ”

Isdoville did not mean to seriously correct Aruta's words: “It was us, not you. ”

The elf lord looked out the window, his thin face, the light reflected deep in his pupils - the clouds drooped out the window, and the empty knights of the Krutz and Finn praisers in the sky joined in the killing. The battle was burning, and the magical light lit almost the entire cloud.

“A thousand years ago, this was the case.” He muttered to himself.

Turning back, “Your Highness, have you ever understood the fundamentals of the Pokémon? ”

Aruta shook her head blindly.

“because of pride.” But Isdovelle's tone is even more proud.

“Pride? ”

“The wind elves will never accept those who think they are above people in this world. ”

He reached for Aruta's crown: "Not in the past, so not today either. ”

Aruta stunned.

He felt like he understood something, but he wasn't sure.

……