The Amber Sword

Kodan lost his balance and nearly had his face planted against the ground, but he did not forget his skills at the last moment and managed to push himself up with a single hand, cursing audibly. He completely forgot to ask Brendel how the latter got Torbus’s ring due to this distraction.

At the same time, Medissa reappeared where she was earlier and blinked in confusion.

Brendel was feeling vexed.

He was not certain whether his phantom grandfather had ever praised his past self. A warm joy seemed to spread out in his body, but part of him was still thinking about Aouine’s swordsmanship used against him earlier.

[If this was a match that did not cap our stats, if that swordsmanship was a little faster...... More than anything, that strangely defensive style seemed like that phantom was limited in many ways. That is surely not the limits of my grandfather]

He was hardly satisfied at his victory over the illusions because he felt that the future ahead of him was becoming uncertain. Was there going to be a duel in the future where he could not win even if he regained his former strength?

He stood there reveling for a moment as his emotions spun like a maelstrom, staring blankly ahead with his sword held tightly in his hand. After a long while, he finally noticed green words flashing in the corner of his vision, and shook his head, waking up from the daze.

A woman’s voice rang out in Brendel’s head as soon as he was done thinking, as though she had been waiting for him.

“It seems that it’s not a coincidence that you’re able to call out to me. Surely the word genius is insufficient to describe your talent in the sword.”

Her voice was just as pleasant as before, tickling his ears and made him want to listen to more of it.

“Can you tell me who you are now?” Brendel asked with a slight frown.

The woman parted from his body again and presented herself before him. When Brendel looked at her again, he could not help but feel that her regal presence had a strong contrast to her mature beauty.

It was oddly alluring, and he even forgot to breathe for just a moment.

Her ornate trinkets around her head resembled the designs on a certain character in the War of the Holy Saints; it was just that the particular character wore a veil and he did not recognize her the first time he saw her.

“Orthlyss—” She began to speak.

“Wait, Are you one of the twenty-four......” Brendel interrupted when he suddenly realized who she really was.

He had suspected her to be a Heroic Spirit from an ancient era, but it took on a different meaning if she was one of the twenty-four knights of the Wind Empress, Osor.

“Interrupting me, boy?” Orthlyss pushed her finger against his lower lip with a smile in her eyes, “Yes, I’m one of the Wind Empress’s knight. You can call me by my nickname, Lyss.”

Brendel blinked a few times as he looked at her features.

[The Elves who became the Wind Empress’s direct knights were naturally the most prominent heroes of that ancient era. Unfortunately, they all perished in the battles against the Dragon of Darkness. In fact, Orthlyss’s the origin of the profession ‘Knight of Keen Blades’. The youngest and the last knight who was still alive in the Battle of the Grey Marsh, and the favorite disciple of the Divine Archer Suoya. In order to allow the King of Fire to advance, she died defending her route.]

The Wind Elves were just as famous as the Silver Elves, and when Brendel converted Orthlyss’s age into human years, she was no older than a sixteen-year-old.

[But she looks...... Does age increase when one becomes a Heroic Spirit? Why does she look so mature?]

“Why do you—” Brendel said, but quickly paused while he stared curiously at her and decided to ask something different: “Earlier, you said that it was the second time you saved me?”

“Have you forgotten the fire in Bucce, boy?”

The faint scars on Brendel’s body started burning as he recalled the event where the skeletons stabbed him with their swords. He then shuffled uncomfortably when he remembered his first fight against Ebdon, and the moment when his grandfather’s sword pierced through him.

[This makes it the third time I nearly died. I even thought that night was due to the skill ‘Unyielding’.]

He secretly let out a sigh in his mind.

“Thank you,” he said.

“There’s no need to thank me, boy. The noble me is your Guardian Spirit. Saving me is helping myself. I don’t want to sleep for centuries again.” She replied with a smile.