"By the name of Martha, Palmead, I'm going to be a father!" Borg Nesson waved the letter in his hand excitedly.
"Oh, is that so?" A smile appeared on the stern Knight's old-fashioned face. He looked at his companion with his light brown eyes. "Then I must congratulate you properly."
"Of course."
Borg-Nesson sat down next to his colleague and gazed at the Neissander Forest under the evening mist. Under the setting sun, a bronze-colored neem tree stood tall in the canopy, and a starcrow was building its nest in the umbrella-shaped canopy. Occasionally, it would stop and stare at the two uninvited guests with its beady black eyes.
"It's so beautiful, Erouine. I can't get enough of it. This is our country."
"Indeed, it's more comfortable to be back in Erouine," the Knight replied.
Following a crow's caw, a flock of birds flew up from the forest. The sound of their wings flapping could be heard from miles away. A large animal passed through the forest. The Knight turned around to warn the others behind him.
But Borg Nesson interrupted him. "Hey, don't change the subject. It's still far away."
He patted his companion's shoulder. "Let's talk about you. You're not married yet, right? My goodness, poor old Palmead must be worried sick! So, have you taken a fancy to any lucky girl? "
The Knight glanced at him calmly. "Didn't I say that I won't think about it until I find out the truth?"
Borg Nesson's eyes widened. "You're making us blush with shame. You know that you're the only bachelor left among us. As for me, not only do I have a beautiful and kind wife, I might even have a daughter. Are you looking down on us?"
"You're different," the Knight replied. "You were already engaged before you left Erouine. I don't have so many restrictions."
"That's not a restriction," Borg Nesson corrected his companion's incorrect view.
The Knight shrugged.
Borg Nesson was silent for a moment before he became serious. "But have you thought it through, Palmead? We've made almost no progress in the past ten years. The matter that the Marshal asked us to investigate in private is not simple. You have to think about it carefully. A thousand years have passed since the War of the Holy Saints. Even if Lady Martha really left us some clues, they may have been erased by time. Haven't you noticed that we can't move an inch after returning to Erouine? "
"If what Your Highness saw is true, then no matter how difficult it is, someone has to persevere, right?" The Knight reached out his hand and clawed into the distance. "For this beautiful scenery to continue to exist, for everyone's tomorrow to not be meaningless, everything is to change that predetermined fate."
"Can mere mortals really change anything? Is Lady Martha joking?" Borg Nesson smiled bitterly. "Haven't you noticed that Her Highness doesn't seem to believe in this either? In fact, I think it's more reliable to unite with the Silver Folk."
"Her Highness may have other ideas. You should have noticed that. She's a very opinionated person, and now she's the Empress of the Cruz Empire. Perhaps in her opinion, those decisions about the past were indeed a little hasty. Even if it's Lady Martha, she dares to question it, "the Knight replied.
"But we're different." Borg Nesson shook his head. "We have to believe in the Marshal's judgment."
"Do you?"
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "The Marshal has never been wrong."
"The Marshal already has a descendant," the Knight replied. "He was born in Braggs two years ago. It's his grandson."
"Haha, then I must beg the Marshal to betroth my daughter to this boy. According to the agreement, he's the next heir of the Cardiloso family. Just like the Marshal, he must be a genius."
The Knight shook his head.
However, he was happy to see that the topic had been changed.
"Let's get down to business," Borg Nesson saw that his colleague was not in a good mood and knew what he was thinking. He changed the topic. "Don't you think it's strange?"
"It's a little strange," the Knight replied.
"Yes. Our investigation first started in the Alcash area, and the investigation was limited to Cruz. But why did all the clues point to Erouine in the end? A thousand years ago, this place was clearly not a barren land, right? "
"But perhaps in an earlier era, there were traces of civilization here. Have you ever been to the Loop of Trade Winds?"
"Are you talking about the Druids?"
"Perhaps even earlier."
Borg Nesson frowned. "That still doesn't explain the other problem. Why do all the clues seem to be cut off here? We know that the Flame King asked the late King Erik to bring the Sacred Sword of Fire to this land, but everything that happened seven hundred years ago is like a legend. There are no written records at all."
"Perhaps there are, but it's not in our hands."
"What do you mean?"
The Knight pointed at the ground. "The Cultists."
"Ha, are you talking about those bastards we just slaughtered? But that's just a coincidence. Why would you suspect these people? "
"It's not a coincidence," the Knight replied. "I've checked the files of the Holy Cathedral and found that their activities in Erouine are much more frequent than we thought."
"So what?"
"Do you still remember where we were fifteen years ago?"
Borg Nesson's expression changed.
He seemed to recall that nightmare, the endless pursuit, walking on the edge of death, poisoning, framing, and all kinds of conspiracies. He did everything he could to get away with it. That nightmare happened in Cruz, and it was probably one of the experiences he did not want to recall in his life.
"You mean the East Metz?"
"The Tree Herders preserved a complete organization there, which is extremely rare in other places. I've carefully checked the local history of Metz for the past thirty years and found that the cultists' activities there are very similar to those in Erouine."
"What does that mean?"
"Do you still remember what they were looking for?"
"You mean those strange stone pieces?"
"That piece of stone came from Alkash about thirty years ago," Lucien explained.
Borg Nesson felt as if he had been stabbed by a foot. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Did someone else bring something else out of the Holy Cathedral? Did someone else enter the underground Holy Cathedral other than us? But how is that possible? "
The Knight did not answer the question.
Borg Nesson scratched his head. "Why didn't you tell the princess back then? Maybe the Tree Herders wouldn't have taken the stone piece away in advance. Now those guys might have fled north to Fanzin. What should we do?"
"Have you ever wondered why the Tree Herders were able to get the information in advance under such circumstances? Only you, the princess, and I know about the operation?" the Knight asked.
"You suspect the princess?"
"I'm suspicious of the Black Dragons around her."
Borg Nesson was silent. "You think those stone pieces are clues?"
"It's just a possibility." The Knight answered. "Also, those stone pieces don't exist alone. There should be another one in Metz, and the rest are in Erouine."
"In Erouine?" Borg Nesson exclaimed in a low voice. "How can you be sure?"
"The cultists told me themselves. Didn't I just say it?"
Borg Nesson frowned. "I know that there are two stone pieces in Metz. The captured Tree Herders admitted it themselves. But it's just your guess about Aouine. Isn't it too hasty to confirm this based on the frequency of the cultists' activities here? "
"Don't our investigation leads to Erouine too?"
Borg Nesson was silent.
"That's not good news. This time, we don't have the princess behind us."
"Bad news is better than no news at all."
"But this time, we're more prepared than the last time."
"Well, let's imagine. This means that they might have been following the Holy Sword of Flame since the time of the late King Erik. This is not surprising. After all, these people are the pawns of the Twilight Dragon. But the question is, "Borg Nesson said." What should we do? "
"It's simple. Since the cultists have spent more time than us, we'll look for clues from them," the Knight replied.
Borg Nesson looked at him in shock.
After a while, he slowly sighed and said, "You're really a genius, my friend …"
"But this will be dangerous."
"Marshal's attendant Knight and student, how can they be afraid of danger?" Borg Nesson replied. "I think your idea will work. Why don't we divide the work now?"
"How?"
Borg Nesson continued. "The cultists active in Erouine are mainly the All For One and the Tree Herders. These two organizations are at odds with each other, so it's best for us to investigate them separately. I have a preliminary idea. All For One will be in your hands, and the Tree Herders will be in mine — "
The Knight looked up and silently glanced at his companion. "Borg, although All For One is better at disguising themselves, the Tree Herders are much more organized. According to our strength —"
"Stop, stop, stop," Borg Nesson hurriedly interrupted him. "I'm His Lordship's student. You have to let me do something, right?"
The Knight was silent for a moment and nodded.
The setting sun in Erouine was slowly sinking below the Grahal Mountains, and darkness gradually engulfed the earth.
But the stars had risen, shining in the night sky.
The Lionheart Sword was born in the time of the late King Erik.
Seven hundred years later, the sword was once again in the hands of the descendants of the Lionheart King.
Amandina silently looked at the sword in her hand.
Since the Sacred Sword could no longer carry the ideals and bring light to this kingdom, then at least its power could not be in the hands of the Saasalds and lead this ancient kingdom to destruction.
It was born of the sages and established this kingdom that carried the glory and oath.
Then its destruction might be destined to give people the last hope.
The cycle of history ended here.
The sword was born because of Seifer, and it also died because of Seifer.
She held the sword and decided to use this ancient family name to fulfill this promise.
She raised the sword and a comforting smile appeared on her face.
She looked up, and her bright eyes were like the light of a sword, piercing straight towards the despicable traitor.
Makarov subconsciously took a step back.
"What are you doing!?"
"Put it down!"
Sadr had already realized that something was wrong.
He suddenly shot out from his position, his pale claw-like hands curled up as he muttered an incantation. Purple lightning shot out from the necklace in front of his chest.
But the power of the sword had already merged into the blood of House Seifer.
In Amandina's inky black eyes, the needle of time was slowing down.
She saw the traitor's eyes widen. The muscles on his face went from relaxed to tense. Then, he slowly opened his mouth and revealed his teeth. Every detail was clear to her. He slowly raised his hand like a dying old man and placed it in front of his chest bit by bit. This simple action seemed to have taken a century.
Wizard Sadr opened his fingers, and lightning extended from his fingertips bit by bit. It did not look like quick light, but more like paint that had been knocked over. Purple and silver mixed together and slowly soaked into the canvas, moving forward inch by inch.
The whole world seemed to be frozen.
Amandina saw the chair that Sadr had knocked over seemed to be suspended in the air, the four legs of the chair were lifted off the ground and slowly tilted in the air. A book called "Manowel's Botany" was lifted off the table and fell to the ground in a visible trajectory. The process was extremely slow.
She then lowered the sword behind her.
The sword in her hand slowly swung backwards, and then drew an arc from bottom to top. When the arc returned to its original position, the sword flew out of her hand.
Makarov did not react at all.
Sorcerer Sadr's mouth opened and closed as he chanted, but he suddenly stopped. The fury on his face gradually turned into shock, and his hands stopped moving. A bright white line was reflected in his eyes, and it passed by him.
Makarov did not react at all.
That second was divided into countless moments.
But only one white light pierced through the center of the room.
It pierced through Makarov's chest without any resistance.
Time resumed its normal flow.
Sadr turned around and saw the pure and flawless sword light cut open Makarov in front of him. The traitor did not even have time to cry out. His expression of fear, unwillingness, pain, and regret froze in the last moment, and then he melted into a pure white flame.
Some of them had the chance to go down in history and be remembered by the people of Aouine.
But he chose a different path.
This path led to his final death in the flames.
After the Lionheart Sword pierced through the traitor of the Royal Faction, it continued to move forward and hit a metal astronomical instrument on the desk.
Under Sadr's shocked and angry gaze, the Sacred Sword of Erouine was broken like glass. The blade broke into countless small fragments and flew in all directions.
"No —!" He roared, and his hair stood on end. The anger in his heart almost burned the entire Lighthouse to ashes.
He seemed to see the illusion of the Twilight Dragon in front of him, looking at him with a cold smile.
Behind it was the destruction of the Saasalds.
And the end of the world.
"No!" Sorcerer Sadr screamed again, his heart aching. He couldn't understand how a Saint Sword could be broken so easily.
And even with the power of the Silver Folks, there was nothing they could do to save him this time.
The Lionheart Sword did indeed hide a secret that no one knew.
But it was a legend that only the descendants of House Seifer knew.
The purple lightning struck Amandina at the same time.
The power close to that of a Sage almost tore the girl's mortal body apart in an instant.
It was a story about faith and dignity.
Although it was weak.
But it was destined not to be manipulated by fate.
No matter what it took.
The choice of the humble was like the sword in the girl's hand.
It was better to die in glory than to live in dishonor.
Amandina closed her eyes.
But death did not come for a long time.
She heard a gentle voice in her heart, calling out to her sleeping consciousness.
"Annie, you've grown up."
In the room.
Sorcerer Sadr looked at the scattered fragments of the Holy Sword in shock. They gathered together and surrounded the human girl under the convergence of an invisible force. Sorcerer Sadr's power, as well as the power of all the elements and laws in the room, was swept away by this invisible force.
A man and a woman, two figures flashed into the room one after another.
She looked at him coldly.
As if looking at a dead person.
…
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
