Chapter 472: Act 221 – The Sword Against Destiny (Part 2)
Freya took a deep breath and walked onto the competition platform. This 10×10 stone platform had been specially built for today’s match and was elevated one and a half meters off the ground; falling off or conceding meant a loss. Freya had already won two matches, but the opponents became increasingly formidable as she progressed. To be honest, she didn’t have much confidence left to move forward.
Thinking of this made Freya feel a bit frustrated. Brendel had brought her here to make her stronger so she could protect everyone in the village. But now she couldn’t say she had accomplished that; compared to those monstrous geniuses, even her original confidence had been worn down considerably.
Freya raised her sword; this time, her opponent was an upperclassman from the academy. Nemeses watched as usual from the side, but when she saw Freya’s state, she couldn’t help but frown.
“You can’t win if you’re not focused,” the upperclassman noticed this and couldn’t help but remind her.
Freya snapped back to attention immediately. She lifted her head, and for a moment, everything before her overlapped with a dream; the red earth stretched endlessly beneath her feet, and her opponent transformed into that knight engulfed in phosphorescent flames.
She couldn’t help but feel a wave of panic and shook her head, trying to break free from this hallucination. But the opponent had already drawn his long sword and was coming at her. Freya was startled and instinctively thought back to the scene in her dream—at this moment, she had completely forgotten the essence of swordsmanship and just wanted to retreat to avoid it.
Laughter surged from the stands; those present were either nobles or academy students who had never seen anyone flee awkwardly in the competition.
“Freya, what are you doing!” Nemeses couldn’t help but shout, frowning.
But just then, a white light suddenly flickered on Freya’s forehead, and a pair of luminous wings stretched out from behind her, ringing out as they struck the long sword held by the academy student.
“What was that?”
Near the princess, several high-ranking officials stood up all at once. They had just witnessed the scene on the competition field; the white light flashed, and the long sword in the upperclassman’s hand was sent flying. But that wasn’t all; there was a light buzzing sound, as if it resonated, and suddenly a white light rose from afar at the academy.
“That’s in the direction of Yusong River!” someone among the nobles recognized it immediately.
Before he could finish speaking, everyone saw that the rising white light suddenly veered mid-air, tracing a long arc directly towards the academy.
“What…is this…”
In front of everyone, that white light descended vertically onto the competition platform, landing right before Freya. Then the light faded, revealing the true form of a stone long sword embedded in the ground.
At that moment, not only everyone else, but even Freya herself was stunned. She had no idea what was happening; she only felt that the sword before her seemed to be calling her, its voice so familiar, just like Brendel’s gentle encouragement.
But Freya’s heart was racing, and at that moment, she didn’t know what to do.
The competition area fell into silence—
“F-Freya, you have a strange mark on your forehead—!” Freya suddenly heard Tisa’s voice calling her from below. She instinctively touched her forehead and felt a stinging sensation; looking down, she found it was covered in bl**d.
Injured? How could this be? The girl clearly remembered that previously, as if a flash of white light had knocked the long sword away, she hadn’t even been close enough to get hurt, yet how could she be injured now? She couldn’t help but raise the gleaming long sword in her hand to look at her forehead, only to discover a beautiful azure mark there.
“What…what is this?”
Freya had no idea, but this mark in Brendel’s past game world had a resounding title—Valkyrie Battle Mark.
This was a testament to the glory bestowed upon her by Martha, a mark of faith in the hearts of all Erluin players, the lighthouse and banner of Erluin.
But at this moment, she was completely oblivious; she felt lost. She nervously looked up, only to meet Nemeses’s utterly calm and dark eyes. “Take up that sword, it belongs to you, Freya.”
There was a trace of indescribable complexity in Nemeses’s expression at that moment, but her first words were so firm.
Freya was taken aback.
Nemeses nodded to her, and Freya took a deep breath. She raised her head to survey the surroundings; everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for her next move. After hesitating for a moment, she finally gathered her courage and approached the stone sword.
She placed her hand on the hilt; it felt icy cool, then gently pulled upward.
Then the miracle happened—
Everyone saw countless golden rays of light shooting out from within the stone sword, and the rocky exterior fell away piece by piece, revealing a golden long sword inside. The sword measured over three feet in length, with the guard resembling outstretched wings, adorned with the Lionheart emblem; the entire sword was dazzling as if forged from gold.
“The Lionheart Sword—!” said Freya’s teacher, the elderly man whom everyone in Erluin respected, unable to contain his surprise.
“No, it’s not the real Lionheart Sword; it’s different from the descriptions—it’s as if some rules have changed,” the half-elf princess appeared much calmer, but as she looked at the sword in Freya’s hand, her eyes also flashed with an indescribable light.
“The previous commotion seems to indicate a bloodline awakening, right?” She immediately turned to Overwell behind her and asked.
“It seems so.”
“The Everton family’s lineage is indeed not so simple; we should keep an eye on her,” Overwell replied.
“Just possessing the Lionheart Sword is already enough,” he continued. “By the way, the Lionheart Sword has appeared in the south and bonded with a master; the northerners should be in a panic now.”
“But we need to confirm that the young girl is on our side first,” a nobleman questioned with some concern. “If the Lionheart Sword falls into the wrong hands…”
“Don’t worry; Freya is a straightforward girl. I believe she will stand on our side,” Grifian replied, giving him a sidelong glance.
“Indeed.”
Yet Overwell looked at the princess, seemingly possessed of a wisdom that saw through everything, as if asking, Are you truly standing on ‘our’ side, Your Highness?
The half-elf princess gradually calmed down but could only smile wryly in her heart. She thought of the young knight’s figure from that story; indeed, even she could not see clearly in whose hands Erluin’s fate would truly lie—
Grifian gazed at the sword in Freya’s hand, unable to help but wonder if this was the punishment given to everyone for breaking their vows by Lady Martha.
But why was he exempt?
…
“Lady Nemeses…”
The expressionless lady knight turned back to look at Freya, who had called her. She tilted her head as if asking, What is it?
“T-this sword…?” Freya felt as if she were still dreaming. The sword in her hand was certainly no ordinary weapon, but why did it come to her? She was still feeling a bit anxious.
“This is your possession,” Nemeses replied.
“But… this is a bit too much…” When Freya thought about the legend of the Lionheart Sword, her heart raced. She was a pure Erluin, having grown up hearing those stories, and the thought that everything that happened in those legendary tales was now connected to her—whether it was the late Sir Eke or the Lionheart Sword—felt far too unreal.
“Freya, I once knew a girl who was very much like you; she was equally stubborn and strong, with her own ideals,” Nemeses said as she looked at the girl, suddenly speaking. “Back then, I was still young and admired her greatly. I remember she had a sword quite similar to yours.”
“Hmm?” Freya paused.
“That sword was sharper than this one, but it didn’t possess the same steadfastness as this one,” Nemeses said. “I think this sword is more suited to you, Freya. Perhaps one day it can change everything.”
“W-what do you mean? I don’t quite understand, Lady Nemeses…”
“I mean, won’t you give it a name?”
“But it’s the Lionheart Sword.”
“That was Eke’s Lionheart Sword, but it’s not anymore.”
“Then what do you think would be a better name for it? I—I don’t really have a knack for naming,” Freya said, feeling a bit troubled.
For a moment, Nemeses felt that the Lionheart Sword in the girl’s hands should be weeping. However, she shook her head and sighed, answering, “Let’s call it Amber.”
“Amber?”
“Yes, Amber. The Amber Sword. In the Crusian poem, there is such a sword; it’s a legendary holy sword, the only sword among all holy swords that allows its wielder to fight against destiny,” Nemeses said seriously. “The last master of the Amber Sword was the legendary azure knight, the one who pierced the sky and caused the stars to fall, opening the Second Era…”
Freya held the long sword in her hands and nodded in understanding, “I get it, Amber, that sounds nice.”
The expressionless lady knight suddenly realized that Freya was indeed not wrong about her lack of name-giving talent, but she shook her head and, after speaking, didn’t linger but turned to leave.
“Wait, Lady Nemeses,” Freya called out to her once more. “Um, what happened afterward…?”
“Afterward?”
“Yes, I mean, the girl you said was a lot like me, what happened to her?”
“Afterward?” Nemeses glanced at Freya and actually smiled slightly. “There was no afterward—”
“How could that be?!” Freya could not help but widen her eyes.
But indeed, there was no afterward—
As Brendel walked through the jungle, he suddenly felt a wave of unease. Instinctively, he touched the stone tablet resting in his embrace; it was vibrating gently at a frequency.
“What’s wrong?” The dryad Quinelle noticed his abnormality and turned to ask.
“Nothing.” Brendel shook his head.
It was the Lionheart Sword, but why was the Lionheart Sword sending him signals at this moment? It had been several months since that last time. The earlier sensation felt strange, as if it were a message of some sort of pact being formed; from the other end, he sensed something familiar, even a bit endearing.
This feeling was too strange; not to mention now, even in the game, he had never encountered such a thing.
But now he could only suppress those thoughts, because ahead of him, the centaur clearing a path suddenly slashed through a patch of thorns with a “crack,” revealing a wide-open hilly area before them—
“We’ve arrived.” Brendel took a deep breath.
He raised his hand, signaling all the elves and mercenaries behind him to stop—the land before them was the territory of this legendary young man, and everyone’s gaze rested on Brendel.
The farce that had occurred in Toniger was about to reach its conclusion at this moment.
…
(PS: These two chapters are nearly 7,000 words. My cold is getting worse. Well, actually, I feel like I might be done for or already am; this is just a remnant of my will to type. This will is quite strong; you see, it can not only type but also cutely ask for votes! Please cast your monthly tickets; if you’re generous, I might have more for you tomorrow, classmates~~~
Also, it’s New Year’s, and I forgot to share my well-wishes, so I’ll add them here. A new year brings new beginnings; may all lovers be siblings, and the lovely ones will surely be boys.)（To be continued. If you enjoy this work, feel free to vote on Qidian (qidian.com); your support is my greatest motivation.）
