The Amber Sword

Medissa was tossed around by the enthusiastic Elf girls for a while before she was put down. The little Silver Elf princess had never experienced such a scene even in her two lifetimes, and was very disheveled, her little face as red as ripe tomatoes.

As soon as she landed on the ground, afraid of retaliation, the Tree Elves whistled and immediately scattered, and the archery tournament winner nearly fell on her butt. Luckily, Amandina quickly rushed to help her, “Those stupid girls.” Amandina shook her head and handed over Medissa’s silver bow on her way.

“Thank you, sister Amandina.” Medissa said with a palpable sense of relief.

As she looked up at the flag belonging to the Silver Elf royal family flying high in the distance, the glow of satisfaction appeared in her eyes again. Countless years have passed since this flag had appeared so gloriously.

The moment she held the bow, her body and mind seemed to have returned to the past, when the wilderness was filled with galloping silver horses, and a horn sounded long and loud, as if resonating with the vast land.

Seeing the little Silver Elf princess distracted for a little moment, Amandina could roughly guess what she was thinking, and with a sigh, she gently put a cloak onto her. Although it was the middle of summer, one could still easily fall ill from sweating in the cool breeze. She was so used to paying attention to these details for Brendel, that she momentarily forgot that Medissais was just an Elite Elf.

Medissa was slightly startled and somewhat touched as she looked at Amandina, “Thank you so much, sister Amandina.”

“This is the second time.” Amandina shook her head, unconcerned.

“No, it is because I was thinking of you, sister..” Medissa, however, replied seriously.

“Is that so?”

“Well, one would be a little more gentle. Just like how I imagined my sister to be, hmm. That’s it...” the little Silver Elf princess smiled sweetly.

Amandina gave her a closer look. She had also heard some of Medissa’s stories and knew that the relationship between her and her sister was not hardly amicable. She reached up and tidied the hair on the girl’s forehead and replied, “That’s how it is in the royal family, I guess...”

“Royalty?” Medissa thought about it and looked at Amandina, “Right, sister Amandina. Has the Lord still not found the reason?”

“Well.” Amandina also remembered the incident and shook her head, “Miss Aloz checked me as well, but I don’t have the Golden Folk’s bloodline either. I guess it was Lord Marsha’s blessing at work that time.”

“Lord Marsha’s blessing?”

Medissa looked at Amandina and suddenly asked, “Sister Amandina, where is your necklace?”

“The necklace...” Amandina was slightly startled, subconsciously pressing her chest, “The necklace?”

“Yes. The necklace that you always kept with you. Weren’t you wearing it before you left for Ampere Seale? I remember seeing it once in the Shining Sea.” Medissa replied in a small voice.

“That... I lost it. What happened?”

“Nothing.” The Silver Elf Princess smiled slightly, “I didn’t expect the ever-so careful Sister Amanndina to also lose things sometimes. If I told the Lord, I bet he wouldn’t even believe it.”

“No need.” Amandina hurriedly replied, “He is busy preparing for the war with Count Radner, so it’s better not to disturb him with these trivial matters.”

“Is that so?”

Amandina nodded slightly.

Medissa thought for a moment, as if wanting to say something more. But then a noise suddenly sounded from a corner of the arena. The crowd there seemed to stir, and it drew their attention away quickly.

Unlike Medissa, Amandina was just an ordinary person. The Silver Elf Princess quickly discerned what was happening over there.

“Huh,” she softly whispered.

“What’s going on?” Amandina looked futilely in that direction as she turned back and asked.

“There’s some strange fellows there,”

Medissa muttered.

........

In the Tusankard Forest, the rainy weather that had lasted for many days seemed to have returned and revisit the Magitan and the surrounding areas after a brief period of clear weather.

To the inhabitants of Misty Forest, it seemed that they’ve barely had any good weather since Duke Arreck’s visit. The gloomy skies that brought rain always hovered overhead, although the rainy season began in April and May in the Tusankard region.

But this year seemed a little too much.

The wooden fence gate creaked and swayed as it was raised in the pouring rain, and a pair of cold eyes watched silently as the rain slid down the fence gate like a broken post, falling from the tip and then mixing into the mud again.

Two squires held up a cloak to shield Count Radner from the incessant rain, and the privileged count of the kingdom watched in silence as the carriage on the drawbridge was led by the guards out of the city, and then he turned back and quickly disappeared into the city.

Propping up the curtain of the carriage window with one hand, Duke Arreck withdrew his gaze from that direction and snickered softly. The carriage was plunged back into darkness: “This old fox is careful yet greedy, and his indecision and stubbornness are precisely his greatest weaknesses.”

“I’m afraid that’s a typical weakness of nobles as well, Duke.” A woman’s voice replied, “But at last, I’ve convinced this fellow that it wasn’t a wasted trip.”

“There will be times when he will regret it.” The husky voice smiled coldly.

“He just doesn’t have a choice; he may not sincerely join our cause. Then again, how can an unaccomplished and unsuccessful noble like this understand anything more profound.” Duke Arreck shook his head.

“Though, Duke Cohen, this fellow is not trustworthy; you had better be prepared.” He warned again.

“I’ve long been prepared.” The hoarse voice replied gloomily, “He’s nothing more than a scapegoat.”

Arreck nodded and took one last glance in that direction with inexplicable eyes – the towering walls of the Magitan had already become only a faint shadow amidst the rain. Then he lowered the curtain, and the carriage reverted into darkness.

In a direction he could not see, Count Radner was being escorted down the castle’s spiral staircase by a knight, the dim light in the cyclorama reflecting on his face. The once irrepressible and powerful count of the kingdom now seemed to have doubt written in his every wrinkle.

“Father, do you really intend to ally yourself with those things.” A figure was already waiting below, and the noble youth raised his head and asked somewhat impatiently, “Once we agree, there will be no turning back.”

Radner looked at his second son, “Do we have a way out now, it seems like you still don’t understand your current situation.”

“No, I mean...”

“That’s enough.” Jean Denel interrupted him impatiently, “I know what you’re going to say, and of course I’d have prepared for it. Madara...at least with the Madara’s...”

He sighed, “Never mind, go contact the Kirrlutz.”

“The Kirrlutz?”

“There’s something they have to know,”

The count was silent for a moment before replying grudgingly.