Act Twenty-Two: An Accident

The decision to split into three groups was quickly made, and the only remaining issue was departure.

Maden would personally lead the guard to launch a breakthrough attack on Madara's undead army at the designated time. Bresen would take the opportunity to lead the surviving villagers of Bucci north across the Dagger Riverbank. Meanwhile, Brando and Romane would cross the Vizel Mountain Pass to deliver news to Ridenburg.

The time was three hours later—

When the dismissal was announced, most of the young guard members turned and left silently, without any unnecessary words, leaving only the clinking of their equipment as they walked.

The campfire crackled as it burned, its flames casting flickering, chaotic shadows on the sandy ground littered with fallen leaves and gravel. Besides the attack at dawn, individuals had many preparations to make; the night was still long—the last few hours felt more like an ordeal for everyone.

Freya was going to gather the others from the third squad, while Brando would grab a backpack and put the remaining bottle of Number Five Holy Water into it. The extra bottle had already been given to Josen, saving the young man and earning him the goodwill of the Bucci villagers and the gratitude of his family—though he had said it at the time, Brando couldn't watch someone die with his own eyes.

He felt that a part of him, as a modern person, was constantly influencing him, his resistance to this world of war. Brando felt a sense of release as he thought about it; it was precisely this pursuit of good things that drove him to change the world.

He casually stuffed two days' worth of food into his backpack, mainly dried meat strips and a dry, unleavened bread made from flour, salt, and plant tubers. The productivity level in the world of The Amber Sword was relatively high; you wouldn't find such abundant resources in the actual Middle Ages.

In fact, those who truly understood this world knew that it was a world with a not-low level of civilization, but its development seemed to have taken a different path from Earth's.

However, when he took out the long-necked bottle containing the Number Five Holy Water, our protagonist paused. He found a stiff piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the bottle. It looked like it had been glued on, and he easily removed it.

The object was slightly larger than a poker card, about the length and width of a palm. The back had patterns like a magic circle, and the front was painted in an oil painting style of a knight kneeling on the ground, clad in armor, holding a sword aloft with both hands.

The top left corner of the card had an ancient numeral "II," and the bottom center depicted six yellow crystals. Brando recognized these six crystals from the game—their academic name was "Elemental Attributes," and six yellow crystals meant Earth Attribute 6.

But what was this?

Brando was well-traveled and rarely encountered anything in the game that he didn't know, but the object in his hand presented him with a challenge. He thought for a moment before remembering that he might have accidentally picked it up in Girende's tomb, but that didn't provide any clues.

In the game, he could search through a vast amount of miscellaneous knowledge, but here, Brando only had knowledge of himself, basic knowledge, and knowledge of military organizations. What was he supposed to search for?

Overwhelmed, he couldn't help but hold up the card and ask the merchant lady, who was rummaging through her bag for needle and thread, diligently mending a frayed seam on the edge of her skirt, "Do you recognize this, little Romane?"

"Don't—don't call me that!" Romane's small eyebrows shot up. "Huh? What is this, a tarot card?"

"I know tarot cards."

"Then I don't know."

Brando looked at the card, about to say something, when his eyes narrowed slightly. He saw Bresen and several young members of the guard leading horses out from the shadows of the nearby woods.

What were these guys up to? He suddenly remembered Bresen's unusual behavior when he was negotiating with Maden, and his heart filled with suspicion. He couldn't help but tuck the card away and stand up to follow them.

"Romane, wait for me here."

"Mm, Brando."

Although the guard members were all excellent young men, their individual strength far surpassed that of ordinary people, they lacked vigilance. The group walked past without noticing that someone was still following them from a distance.

After all, Brando had been a small-team player back in the day, and when a few people had to confront a large guild, they often needed to use stealth tactics. Therefore, although he wasn't a master in this regard, he was at least an old hand. Fooling these young people with little experience in counter-tracking was quite simple.

It was just that Brando himself didn't realize that he was already using those past techniques in his every move.

This scene might not have seemed like much to others, but to Zeta, who was on lookout duty in the tree, it was incredible. He immediately recognized the young man named Brando. Their captain had explicitly told them that he was just a good-for-nothing fellow whose swordsmanship was passable.

However, the swordsmanship of the militia meant little to them. Swordsmen like Freya and Essen from the militia could easily take on ten of them, but they simply disdained to make a move. Since they had joined the guard, they naturally possessed their own pride.

Just like Bresen; no matter how much he teased Brando, he would never propose a duel to teach him a lesson, because in the eyes of this group, it would be beneath him.

But what Zeta was seeing now was completely different. He remembered that when he was studying scouting, a scout from a mountain legion had come to impart some practical combat experience. That scout was a quasi-knight who had received a Crimson Medal once, but compared to the young man before him, his skills were only on par.

Brando was like a shadow in the darkness, his every movement aligned with the changes in the firelight from the nearby valley. If it hadn't been for a moment when he happened to be between the light source and Zeta, Zeta might have thought he had no chance of discovering him.

Could Deputy Captain Bresen's understanding of him be wrong? Was he actually a scout from a regular legion? Or a spy from Madara?

Zeta suddenly felt nervous. What should he do? First and foremost, he absolutely couldn't make a sound, otherwise, the deputy captain's plan would be ruined—they were less than thirty meters from the camp, and any disturbance could alert others.

He couldn't help but take a breath and signal to Lyons on another tree not far away, indicating that he should pay attention to Brando's direction. Lyons was initially puzzled as to why this guy was always pointing towards empty spaces, perhaps he had drunk too much? But he immediately saw Brando in that direction, and his expression changed.

Damn, is he a chameleon?

"What do we do?" he immediately signaled, asking.

"I'll go first, you cover me from the right," Zeta signaled back.

"Are you sure?"

"Mm, his swordsmanship is very strong, Mid-Stage Unranked."

Mid-Stage Unranked was a term used by swordsmen, roughly equivalent to the highest level of guard trainees. Above that were White Tier swordsmen, approximately level 5-20 among players. Zeta was afraid that the opponent might have hidden strength, so he deliberately inflated Bresen's estimate.

Lyons nodded, indicating his understanding.

Brando was also surprised. Over twenty people, more than ten warhorses, classmate Bresen, are you planning a rebellion? However, he knew this was impossible and unnecessary. After following for a while, he heard the people in front talking in low voices. Just as he was about to get closer, he instinctively felt a premonition of danger.

It was too quiet; he hadn't heard any insect sounds since the beginning.

Brando's experience was extremely rich. Although in such operations, reconnaissance and search were usually carried out by the "Nightingale" in their team, he remembered the Nightingale who had cooperated with him the longest—a girl named "Shadow," but unfortunately, she later stopped playing.

However, after so many battles, he had developed an instinctive sharpness; even the slightest rustle of grass would alert him.

Just like when he had foreseen Rosko's detection in the old Bucci mansion.

Brando immediately felt a hand trying to reach around his neck from behind. This was a common tactic for scouts—Brando leaned back with the motion, supported the opponent's elbow with one hand, and grasped their wrist with the other. He slid his body down, raised both hands, and then pushed forward forcefully—a shadowy figure flew out, hitting a tree in front and groaning.

Their strength was similar, but he had a slight advantage. And when he saw the figure fall to the ground and, instead of defending, turn and lunge at him, his heart tightened, and he immediately realized there was another person.

With a flash of silver, Brando's Gleaming Thorn was drawn. He dodged to the side, and his sword was already at the throat of the person rushing up behind him.

The faint sword light reflected the faces of two people.

Lyons and Zeta, their faces filled with astonishment. They had expected Brando's swordsmanship to be a bit stronger than their vice-captain had mentioned, but surely not by much. They had seen Bresen's swordsmanship; he was among the best of the official guards, yet even he couldn't fight two opponents at once based on swordsmanship alone.

They couldn't help but feel as if they were dreaming. Looking at the swords in each other's hands, they wondered, What is going on here?

"Captain Maden is a veteran of the November War, as everyone knows. He has pledged his life to the kingdom once and proven his loyalty. Listen to me, everyone, don't we have an old saying? If Lady Martha allows a person to live, then you should cherish that fortune—"

"We cannot let a veteran who narrowly escaped death on the battlefield gamble his life again, which is why I've devised this plan. Please, allow me to lead you all to fight and protect Bucci. This isn't about me taking away anyone's glory, but rather, I cannot escape—"

"Well said, Vice-Captain."

"We support you."

"Captain Maden will understand you."

Bresen smiled. He had already decided to refuse when Maden ordered him to lead the villagers to break through Dagger Riverbank. However, he knew the old man's temperament and that he would never allow him to object, so he decided to take a gamble.

He also understood that Maden was trying to preserve him. The old captain had said more than once that he might achieve great things one day and become a pillar of this country's future. But Bresen also knew that Eluin didn't need cowards.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but recall Brando. That uneducated fellow had actually volunteered to cross the Xavier mountain pass. He couldn't help but maliciously speculate if the other party was just looking for an excuse to escape, as it didn't seem impossible.

However, it was at this moment that a soft sound in the quiet forest made everyone turn their heads.

They saw Brando emerge from behind the parted bushes, pointing his sword at Zeta and Lyons. At first, the atmosphere was tense, and then everyone's face showed a look of disbelief, as if they had seen a ghost.

"Zeta?"

"Lyons, what are you doing?"

"Haha, a slight miscalculation," Zeta said with an awkward expression.

Brando, on the other hand, looked with surprise at the usually overbearing vice-captain of the guards. The other man's face was as dark as ever. How could it not be? If he just shouted here, the other party's plan would be ruined.

However, Brando hadn't expected this guy to be so audacious as to want to lead these young people who were willing to follow him in a feint attack against Madara, in place of Maden.

What kind of spirit was this?

Brando found it a bit laughable, but he couldn't help but feel some surprise and admiration. Should this be called the simplicity and passion of youth, or the pursuit of ideals? Yet, from Bresen's somber face, he saw a trace of responsibility.

The responsibility of this vice-captain of the guards.

"What do you want to do?" Bresen asked in a deep voice. Of course, he wanted to use a stronger tone, but he didn't want the other party to disrupt his plan.

Although it seemed almost inevitable.

Brando lowered his sword—

(PS. Ugh, I woke up this morning and saw we were in eighth place, so happy. Then I happily went home, ate dinner, and came back to see we'd dropped to tenth. I want to vomit blood... I checked today's collections, and they only increased a little. So sad TT.

Everyone, please give me some support to help The Amber Sword's performance reach new heights.

Also, student Shuzhi, did I offend you? You posted the same complaint three times in a row?)