The Amber Sword

Chapter 42 – Middle-aged person

Brendel looked at the helpless Freya who did not know what to do, and he guessed that she should have a certain understanding of the guards’ true appearance by now. It was still not enough, so he continued to wait and let her see with her own eyes and understand what kind of plight they were currently in.

He did not wish to break her love for this kingdom, but there were times where such emotions were insufficient and would only lead to a disaster. He hoped that Freya would learn to be calm under desperate situations. If there was a need to protect the girls, he would do so should the guards intend to harm them.

He continued to wait for Freya’s actions, but suddenly realize her gaze was someplace faraway. He paused slightly before he followed her line of sight.

He then noted that the place she was looking at was the ‘Eastern Camp’ in Fortress Riedon, and saw a group of people varying in height tightly surrounding a tall man. Behind him was a group of the ‘White Mane’ light infantry.

Brendel suddenly felt things were turning interesting. He did not expect to have such good luck, and he felt like he found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Freya was certainly quick to have noted these people with authority, and he nodded inwardly as he guessed what Freya was thinking about.

From a normal person’s point of view, Freya’s reactions were correct.

He turned back to Freya and saw the two guards were about to pull out their swords and close in on Freya. She jumped into the tower and rushed for the weapons.

The two guards were startled and hurriedly readied their swords to fight her, but Freya abruptly closed in on them and grabbed the first guard’s sword wrist with her right hand.

They had not expected her to resist when her companions had already been captured and was caught off-guard by the series of events.

She then swiveled her body to the side and struck with her left hand at the other guard’s armpit, then grabbed onto his sword and kicked him backwards as he cried out in pain. Her actions were done in a single stroke, almost as if it was done in the blink of an eye.

The first guard pulled away from her grasp, but she was ready with the stolen sword and thrust three times at him. With the growth she had gained from the earlier battles, she forced him back all the way to the wall,  struck him on the head with the sword’s hilt and caused him to slump lifelessly onto the ground with a bleeding head.

She then turned around again, her intimidating air frightening the other four guards and their captain, and they stepped backwards at the same time.

Freya was displeased. She had always thought that the soldiers in Fortress Riedon were as amazing as Brendel, but their standards were actually this terrible! (TL: Kek. Anyone can probably see something is very wrong with Brendel.)

Brendel applauded her in his heart. The soldiers in this fortress were only at the standard of veteran militia, but her current prowess was enough to become one of the guards. Furthermore, she had the qualities of being calm and steady now.

He eyed the ‘White Mane’ light infantry.

[But if she underestimates the kingdom’s regular army, she is going to be in trouble. I’ll keep an eye out for her decisions. Right now —]

He suddenly grabbed the two guards next to him and threw them out before they could react. He took hold of the Elven sword next and knocked the longswords of the guards who were holding Romaine away.

“What do you intend to do?” He ignored the sobbing guards on the ground and the other stunned guards, then grabbed Romaine’s hand and went over to Freya.

Freya glared at him for a few seconds, then looked at the camp. Her intentions were clear enough.

“Over there? That’s fine, it’s good to go straight to the boss than to waste time with the summons.” He laughed.

“What does that mean?” Romaine asked curiously as she rubbed her wrists. The guards used a lot of force to restrain her and her wrists were numb.

“I mean, let’s hear out the lords.”

Freya felt that he was trying to hint at something but now was not a good time to refute his words. She looked at the frightened guard captain with disgust, then proceeded forward by jumping out of the tower.

“Brendel, Freya looks like she’s angry.”

“It’s fine, let’s just catch up to her.”

The Golden Apple Lord, Esebar, had a pleasant day until he saw the current events unfold before his eyes.

He watched the girl charge forward to him and was taken aback for a moment. The soldiers behind him rushed forward to surround her and the other two people behind her.

Esebar looked at their attire and found they were dressed like they were from the countryside. After a blank moment, he felt anger rising from his chest.

[What are these fuckers doing! How dare they let these filthy countryside swill intrude here, who’s the captain on the duty here, I’ll skin his hide!]

Esebar’s face went red with anger, ready to explode, but he felt someone poking him with a cane. He looked back and saw the revolting businessman, Sir Burnley. He had no wish to talk to this penny-pinching podgy bastard. Burnly was constantly filled with the stench of copper, and his face was hideously decorated with layers of fat, but Esebar at least understood they were on the same side.

Burnley pointed at Freya’s uniform, and Esebar received a jolt when he saw Freya’s emblem.

[Bucce’s militia, didn’t the report say that the Madara’s army had reached Beldor Forest? How did they come over here?]

He cast a glance behind him, hoping the person with high authority did not notice the commotion here. He grabbed his sword tightly and barked at the soldiers around him: “What are you waiting for, capture these assassins.”

[Assassins?]

Freya was dazed by his words. Her eyes were wide open with surprise and she wanted to argue back, but the clear rings of swords being pulled out by the guards pierced her heart painfully.

“What is happening here?”

At this moment, a low and solemn voice interrupted them. The soldiers parted sideways, and revealed a middle-aged man with sunken eyes and a tall nose; his face cold and dark. He held a golden cane in his hand and looked at everyone in the vicinity with a haughty gaze.

Esebar took a deep breath and cursed in his mind. His brain worked quickly and answered without changing his expression: “There are a few commoners who barged in, and they might be assassins.”

“Commoners?” The middle-aged man furrowed his brows.

“My lord, we are not assassins. We’re Bucce’s militia and we are here to report th–”

The middle-aged man showed signs of loathing, and he interrupted her: “What is your name.”

“F-Freya.” She lowered her head when she saw his cold gaze.

“How about you?” He asked Romaine who was beside Freya.

“I’m Romaine, Mister.” The merchant girl blinked and replied.

A few people giggled in the crowd but they quickly stopped themselves. The middle-aged man did not change his expression, but merely waved his hand and said: “Take them away, I’ll decide everything once you are done with the questioning.”

“My lord, we…….” Freya raised her head in a panic to try and explain.

But he did not bother to listen to her and let the guards surround them. But a few moments later, he spoke again.

“Hold on.”

As if there was a hidden power behind his words, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

“Bring that man’s sword to me and let me take a look.” He pointed at Brendel with his cane.

‘Sword?’

The soldiers were momentarily confused, then looked at Brendel’s sword and noticed its design.

[Fuck, that’s an Elven sword which is reputed by its beauty. This is commonly traded amongst the nobles, damn this greedy bastard. He wants both the women and the sword!]  Esebar cursed in his mind once again.

What made him angry was the status that he had. His rank was much higher than Esebar, and he could only give up as he could not afford to offend the powers behind him.

Brendel looked at Freya and saw that she was lost and disoriented. He knew it was about time to end the farce, but he still maintained a poker face and shrugged.

He handed the sword over obediently.

[This man is at least sensible.] Esebar approved this action.

A soldier carried the sword over with care, and presented it with both his hands to the middle-aged man, who read out the Elven words on the sword:

“(Thy sword shall burst forth from light, and strike thy enemies with terror)”

He raised the sword up and the Elven sword shone in his hand. The people surrounding him took a deep breath. It was a magic sword, and the nobles cast their gaze on Brendel and the others. They felt they were assassins as no militia would have a magic weapon.

The middle-aged man looked at the glowing longsword and smiled for the first time. He looked at the merchant Burnley and said: “Sir Burnley, you have a discerning eye for these sort of things, can you tell me this sword’s history?”

The fat noble quickly moved over to him with his wobbling body to ingratiate himself in front of him: “It is true that I have seen a few Elven weapons, but it is you, my lord, who has a discerning eye in your circle.”

The middle-aged man gave a cold laugh and said: “Then for the sake of this sword, treat them well tonight. I’ll interrogate these assassins myself. You would best take care of the ladies here, and tell your captain Granzon what I said here. Do not think that I am ignorant of the dirty things they do.”

His words became colder and colder, and actually caused the soldier in front of him to shudder. But the other people around him revealed a meaningful smile. The more evident the lord’s attitude was, the better it was for them.

It was merely a sword and two women after all, and they were more interested in waiting for other opportunities.

Freya raged with anger and it showed on her burning face. She took a deep breath, clenched her teeth and fists, and for a moment Brendel was worried she would do something rash.

Brendel looked up at the middle-aged man as he swung the glimmering sword about. He creased his brows as he tried to recall this person. It looked like he was a high ranking person but he could not remember his face.

[This person’s reaction is interesting. Well, the fun part is coming right up.]

When they were taken away by the guards, he clearly heard the middle-aged man ask:

“Alright, let us get down to business. Mister Esebar, when do you plan on letting me go out of this city?” His voice was cold with a tinge of sarcasm.

“My lord, this is a dangerous time right now, the Madara forces have already arrived at Stronghold Vermiere. The sidelines of Bucce might fall any moment and it is currently too dangerous. This is especially so when you are a chief councillor for the king, and we cannot let any danger to befall you.”

The middle-aged man smiled without saying anything else.