The Amber Sword - v3c378p1

The White Lion's battle flag once again began to move slowly on the battlefield.

It was Maynild who took the lead in the front. The female knight held the battle flag in one hand and a longsword in the other. She was like the striker of the entire White Lion Legion. Imps often fought her for no more than a single clash before she threw them off the fort wall with her sword. 

It was Freya’s first time witnessing such actual vicious swordplay, and she could not help but be surprised as it was similar to Brendel’s. It was as if Maynild herself was the embodiment of the White Lion at that moment, tearing apart her enemies with sharp teeth and claws, leading everyone forward. 

Behind her were the soldiers of the White Lion Legion. The students of the Royal Cavalry Academy maximized their greatest potential at this moment, and the assault finally turned in their favor. They stormed and attacked their way up the fort wall, their forces unresisting. 


It was a desperate shout. 

Freya saw it too. She climbed over the fort wall to see that there was actually another wall behind the wall. Behind it was a thicket of minotaurs with giant axes, and there were more than a hundred of them. Before she could even widen her eyes, the soldiers at the front flew up into the air together. 

Behind the Minotaurs, a group of ladies with snakes for hair and longbows in their hands appeared. It was a group of Medusas. Although the girl from Bucce did not have a lot of experiences, she still knew about these legendary creatures.  

“Ah...” Freya could not help but subconsciously cry out in a low voice.

This is a trap.

Everyone suddenly realized it. Maynild’s face was frighteningly emotionless, and Freya even saw that the hand which gripped the flag had lost all color. It even began to tremble slightly. 

 "Don't look over there, let's keep moving," she shouted with all her might. 

However, a volley of arrows already rocketed over the wall. It was the Medusas’ shots; no armor could resist the phosphorescent green arrows, and the soldiers in front turned into stone statues before they could even struggle.

In just one round of firing, a third of the men at the front were lost. The Medusas moved swiftly and began to launch their arrows again. 


The White Lion's battle flag suddenly disappeared.
Marquis Balta witnessed this scene with his own eyes. He saw the White Lion's battle flag fall and disappear in the rain. A feeling of utter dismay surfaced in his heart, and he suddenly felt a little dazed. It was as if only one voice echoed in his heart.

Aouine had lost its last chance.

“Lord Marquis, look out!”

A Brute Devil swept over the fort wall and brushed past Balta. The Marquis was slightly absent-minded, but his hands were already empty before he realized that his longsword had been ripped away by the Brute Devil. With a jolt, he turned back just in time to see monsters with horns on their head suddenly jump in front of him.

What a terrifying aura.

That was Balta’s last thought. The horned Devil was already mercilessly choking him, yanking him up from the ground. The Marquis, who had a wide gulf between himself and the Devil in terms of power, had no room to resist at all.

“Lord Marquis!”


Amidst the screams of the soldiers of the White Lion Legion. Balta finished the last journey of his life. At that moment, it was as if he saw a light in the darkness. A tall, familiar figure stood at the other end, just like that time on the battlefield then. 

Lord Marshal.

The Longhorn Devil effortlessly snapped the neck of Marquis Balta, who was the leader of the White Lion Legion, tossing the lifeless body aside. Then, it kicked Aouine’s flag on the fort wall, making it fall. 

It looked at all the human soldiers in the fort with contempt. In its opinion, the soldiers here were simply like garbage; even the most inferior of creatures in hell were stronger than them. This place would have been wiped out more than ten times over if the portal had been able to transfer more high-end troops at that moment. 

Dealing with these little insects really bored it.

But anyway, the damn fort was finally captured.

Fort Bunuo had fallen. 

The flag that Wood saw in the crystal ball had disappeared into the rain, and he finally realized the fate of this defeat. Aouine would fall as a result, and its path would come to an end here. No one knew more than him what this event would mean to the Holy Cathedral of Fire. 

He could almost imagine that he would lose everything he had in the past, but more importantly, the Holy Cathedral of Fire would be in disgrace for it. The old man could not help but cover his face and sigh deeply. 

It is all my fault.

"Prepare to retreat and grant those nobles their wish. I believe they will regret this," this once illustrious Archbishop could not help but reply somewhat helplessly at this moment.

“Please wait for a moment, Lord Archbishop.” Youla, who was sitting on the side, suddenly spoke. 


Everyone turned their heads to look at the blind young woman. 


A long lance appeared in Freya’s vision. The arc of lightning on the lance’s blade struck at the Minotaur in just a split second. The lance shot forward and pierced the creature’s chest with a single thrust. Blood sprayed out before the girl with the long ponytail withdrew the lance, allowing the head of the monster to clatter to the ground. 

She looked at her. There was some curiosity in her golden eyes, and then she reached out to her. “You are…… Freya?” 

“Yes.” Freya knew this girl. “Are you Scarlet?”

The young girl smiled slightly, revealing her snaggleteeth. “Yeah.” 

“Have you seen Medissa, Freya?” 

Freya shook her head, one hand covering the wound on her shoulder. She looked around somewhat hastily. She soon saw Maynild, who had fallen in the rubble. 


Her heart raced as she rushed over. The dark-haired female knight’s eyes were screwed shut, her breath shallow. A feathered arrow was stuck in her chest, but even so, she still clutched the White Lion’s battle flag tightly in her hand. 

As if she heard Freya’s call, Maynild struggled to open her eyes. She narrowed her pretty eyes at Freya. "Freya, listen well…..."


“Take this battle flag. You’re the commander now.” 

“How can I……”

Have we failed?

Freya looked at the face that looked a little stern because of the cold expression Maynild had. However, she had always felt Maynild cared for her like one of her own family members, or rather like a sister; she did not have a sister, nor a brother, so she especially cherished the feeling.

Maynild faintly smiled at her, a most unpleasant-looking smile.

“Go on, Freya.”

“What about you?” 

“I can’t die yet…” Maynild flashed a smile that looked uglier than a sobbing face. “Go, that’s an order, you fool. I trust you…” 

Why do you believe in me? Freya did not understand. Why did Maynild or Brendel trust me unconditionally? She obviously knew nothing and had a hard time learning things. She was clumsy like an ugly duckling compared to the others. 

Everyone was down. Her senior, Carlo, Enrique, and Mok... Only Bennett and Carglise were still putting up a last stand. She looked back at the battle happening around the village of Medao, and with the loss of command, defeat seemed imminent. 

What else could she do?

Maynild seemed to realize the young girl’s confusion. She smiled at her slightly and mouthed something to her. Freya did not understand what it meant, but Scarlet the mercenary did. 

“Because you’re the War Goddess, silly child.” 

“Because that’s my request to you, Freya, okay?” Maynild asked weakly. 

That made the girl from Bucce clench her fists at once. Across the battlefield, the soldiers of the White Lion Legion had begun to retreat.
But Freya turned back. "Scarlet."

The girl who often wore a ponytail looked at her questioningly. 

“Can you help me?” 

Scarlet did not answer. She knew Brendel trusted the young girl. Since she had followed Brendel for the longest time, Brendel did not shy away from sharing about the people and things around him with her. The young lady was content with this life, even though she only listened quietly.

Then she nodded. 

“Thank you.”  Freya took the battle flag of the White Lion Legion and took a deep breath. Although the tension still hadn’t left her body, she took one last look at Maynild.

She propped the female knight against the wall and replied solemnly, “Senior, I will let this battle flag shine on the battlefield, as long as I am still alive."

Aouine would not perish. Marquis Balta's death was like the final death knell of Fort Bunuo. It was as if the entire battlefield collapsed at that moment, but in every one of the fort’s nooks and crannies, the knights of the White Lion Legion were still defending till the bitter end.

"Owen, do you remember the book called Vine Summer?"

The young officer of the White Lion Legion - who wore silvery-grey armor - stood in the heavy rain as if he had not recovered from his defeat. Marquis Balta was dead, and the White Lion Legion seemed to have truly come to an end in a series of defeats.

Countless Devils lunged at the wall. They brought with them an air of despair. 

“We have failed, Sherlock. Let’s not talk about that book of yours.” 

“Yes, that’s what I think too, Owen, so, order the soldiers to open the south gate of the fort. How about we retreat from there?” 

Owen whipped his head back and glared at his companion with bloodshot eyes. “You're insane!" he shouted through gritted teeth. "We absolutely cannot retreat, our teammates are still ahead of us!"
Sherlock laughed.

 "Then remember to buy that book for me, the one with the gold edges on the cover. The collector's edition published in the year of the stringed moon, you know. "

"What are you talking about?"

"Go pick up the flag, Owen."