The Amber Sword

Her green hair were like newly sprouted vines covering her dusty face. Even though her eyes were weak and timid, she did not shy away from his gaze, rather, she was studying him carefully.

“And who might this be?” He said.

[Emerald-like eyes only belong to Forest Elves and pure-blooded Senia citizens, but her green waist-long hair is remarkably striking— The only NPC I have ever seen with such green hair is the Avatar of Forest.]

“Scarlett rescued her from the riders. She might have been kidnapped from the nearby village.” Amandina answered as he lowered her head and carefully combed the little girl’s hair.

“Do you know she’s a Senia citizen?” He suddenly said.

“What’s a Senia citizen, Brendel?” Romaine asked with blinking eyes.

“A Senia citizen?” Amandina’s hand drew back momentarily and hesitated, but eventually went back to comb her hair. The little girl looked up at her and saw the latter had complicated expressions.

There were many rumors about these ‘Green Folks’. One of the highly circulated rumors was this: The Senia citizens carried a disease that turned people into beasts. Most humans did not want to come into contact with them, and nobles were even more loathed to go near them. In certain areas, some extremists even support burning these pagans in order to prevent these supposed disease from spreading.

“What’s your name?” Brendel ignored Amandina’s reaction, softened his tone and asked the little girl.

He was indifferent to the different races. The Senia fled to the south in the forest some seven or eight hundred years ago to avoid the Dragon of Darkness while the other races participated in the battle to fight for their freedom. Civilization progressed while the Senia lagged behind because of their isolation.

The various races thought they deserved the discrimination they had.

The little girl did not respond.

“She doesn’t understand our language.” Amandina answered.

Brendel was not surprised. He nodded and straightened up his body: “That’s fine, I can roughly guess where she’s from, but I’m a little puzzled.”

Amandina nodded to agree with him. Graudin’s private soldiers must have realized the little girl was a Senia, and it must have been great mercy to spare her from death. Even if this was some other land outside Trentheim, it was legal for the army to execute a Senia citizen.

Brendel took a few steps forward and surveyed the land around him.

“We’re sending her to the Viridien village.” He said.

“The Viridien village? Where’s that?”

“It’s a Senia village. It’s the south of here, approximately half a day’s journey.” Brendel took up a sword from one of the riders. He pulled the sword out, inspected it and replaced his sword which had been damaged during the fight at Graudin’s manor.

“What are we going there for?” Amandina frowned and lowered her voice to the point where it was out of the little girl’s reach: “My lord, we should just send someone to escort her back—”

Brendel waved her off.

“My lord! Do you really intend to go to their village? If anyone knows that we went to their land,” She lost her composure and blurted out. “Your reputation......”

She suddenly realized what she did and glanced at the little girl beside her. Even though she knew that the latter did not understand her words, she chose to stop talking.

“That’s enough, Miss Amandina. That’s where we’re going in the first place.” He said.

“What?” Amandina was completely shocked.

Valhalla. That was the place he was searching for. It was tremendous help to him that Mother Marsha had delivered the little girl to his hands. The Senia might be isolationists but they treated their true friends with great sincerity.

[Getting Valhalla’s location requires the Druids. This particular race chose to retire around the same time as the Silver Elves, and their presence have completely disappeared some three hundred and fifty years ago. The only possible way to get to them is have the Senia to contact them.]

“Brendel, who are the Senia?” Romaine asked again since she did not receive an answer.

“It’s a long story,” Brendel smiled and flipped her nose, causing her to scowl angrily as she retreated backwards. “The Elves called them At’zon, The Forest’s Children.”

“Lycanthropes?” Romaine’s eyes turned wide with curiosity: “I heard of this term before!” (TL: What the....... Green Fur Lycanthropes.......)

The young man suddenly felt a gaze on him and turned around. The little girl had an obvious reaction when he mentioned the word at’zon. He pondered for a while to ensure he did not make any mistakes in his plans before he ordered his men to set out.

The Viridien village was a foreign name to numerous regions and even local mapmakers. The latest edition of the political map made by the order of King Oberg listed a total of four hundred and fifty locations, but it did not mention the name either.

In the game, adventurers made their way to Karanjar’s mountainous region from their village and Brendel was one of them, but the sight he saw that day was different from today—

“These fucking bastards.” One of the Grey Wolves Mercenaries muttered under his breath.

They rode through abandoned farmlands with damaged fences. Gardening tools were broken and strewn everywhere, while the planted vegetables were trampled and ruined by the riders’ warhorses. It was quite easy to see how much effort and time the Senia had spent to clear the verdant forest in order to create arable land, only to have them completely ruined by the Graudin’s men.

[When I came here in the game there wasn’t anything like this. It was a place that had dense foliage and trees with no signs of anyone living here at all.]

Brendel’s eyes glanced across the farmlands, almost able to see the nearby river there. He had a difficult time cross the forest back then because it was full of level thirty plant-type monsters.

The Grey Wolves Mercenaries glowered unhappily as they continued to ride. Their backgrounds were either hunters or farmers, and they regarded farming as something sacred because it was everything their families had.

“Stop advancing. Let’s enter this area and check for villagers.” Brendel suddenly said. He heard sounds coming from the inner farmlands.

His men followed his instructions and went around the damaged fence. They finally saw a woman wearing a tattered dress, covering her face and sobbing in front of the damaged vegetables.

Another man, perhaps her husband, was carrying a rake over his soldiers with a sullen look as he inspected the damage. When he saw Brendel’s men coming around the fence, he was initially startled before he placed the rake horizontally across his chest and yelled:

“Jora, get up and run! They’re back!”

He lunged at the young man in front of him with a bellow. However, Scarlett urged her horse forward and used her lance to sweep across the enemy’s legs. He immediately stumbled and fell forward onto his face almost comically. She frowned and instantly realized the man in front of her was just a simple farmer. She quickly dismounted in order to help him up, but the woman behind him ran up and blocked his body with her own.

“Please, have mercy and spare my husband. Yol, run away!”

But the man did not have the intention to do so. He pulled Jasa back and tried to attack Scarlett with another savage yell and bloodshot eyes. However, before he even took a step forward he found a lance already at his throat. He stared at the girl’s cold amber eyes and shivered subconsciously.

His movements faltered and stopped.

“Fool.” Scarlett’s voice was cold. “You can’t even discern the difference between us.”

She lowered her lance slowly before she suddenly swung it to the sides. There was a flash of lightning that seemed to dim the surroundings because of its brilliance, and when it was over a black pine tree was sent crashing to the ground.

Brendel’s men merely watched the scene unfold. They did not have a good impression of the Senia, and Romaine was about the only person who looked at them with curiosity and neutral feelings.

The man named Yol finally seemed to understand their difference in strength. He did not understand why Scarlett did not kill him, but strength left his legs and he wanted to fall backwards and sit down. A voice suddenly rang out in the midst of the mercenaries.

“(Uncle Ulf!)” The little girl spoke in a different language.

His head jerked towards the direction of the voice, almost disbelieving his ears. When he turned around, he saw the little girl in the embrace of a pretty woman looking curiously at him.

“Sifrid, w-why are you here, didn’t they take you away.....?” It was Jasa who spoke in astonishment.

“(Uncle Ulf, these people saved me.)” The little girl’s voice were like crystal bells that rang in the wind.