Amber Sword
Chapter 152: Act 10 Alchemy

Chapter 152: Act 10 Alchemy

Brand saw the riders bring the people who wanted to meet him on an open ground bathed in the golden sunlight of the afternoon among the fir forest, no, not one, but a group. He slid down the densely forested slope of the fir forest with the mercenary leading the way. As soon as he stepped out of the forest, he saw about a dozen people with haggard faces scattered in the open ground between the woods—two or three of them had horses, some had bandages, most wore thick leather armor or tightly fastened chain armor, with small colored round shields and long swords hanging on their belts—they seemed to be mercenaries like Mano and the others.

Not far away, standing with Yulier, was their leader. Brand had to admit that he rarely saw such a burly person in the southern Golan-Elsen Province, presumably a northern Anlek man or at least with that bloodline—the man had a conspicuous brown-red beard, a square face, and a sword scar at his brow. He wore an open-chested shirt, with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, revealing knotted muscles underneath.

This man must be very confident in his strength, otherwise, he wouldn’t wear just a simple leather shoulder guard, with almost no protective gear on him. His weapon was a string of hand axes hanging from his belt, commonly used by the local Anlek warriors, not only for close combat but could also be thrown to kill from a distance.

This berserker-like big man respectfully took off his hat and bowed his head when he saw Brand: "Honorable Sir Knight, greetings. I represent the Red Jackal Mercenaries to show you my respect. I am their leader, Batom."

Batom in the Anlek language means ’red, crimson’, further confirming his origin to Brand. He placed one hand on his sword, nodded imperceptibly, and looked at the man, waiting for him to state his purpose.

Brand’s current identity as the noble knight spread by word of mouth among the refugees was beneficial for him at this time—thus Brand neither admitted nor denied it, instead maintaining an intriguing demeanor, the mystery helping him establish authority among these people.

Without Brand’s response, Batom became uneasy. He cautiously asked, "Sir Knight, are you leading these refugees to escape the pursuit of the Madara army?"

Brand gave him a look and nodded.

"Then may I ask, do you need more people?"

"Why, do you want to join us?" Brand was taken aback, quickly realizing these mercenaries were probably retreating from Sharp Stone River Valley, exhausted and in need of shelter.

If that was the case, then the battle between the White-maned Knight Order and ’Dead Maggot’ Magus must have ended, and judging by the situation, Luc Besson must have lost.

Brand lifted his gaze, looking through the dense fir forest ahead to the undulating mountains beyond. He thought that the retreating refugees and soldiers of the White-maned Knight Order would likely arrive here, thereby increasing the number of refugees.

Seeing the young noble with one hand on his sword hilt, staring ahead in a daze, Batom became somewhat uneasy. He quickly nodded and replied, "Yes, Sir Knight, we only need a little food and medicine, and after a short rest, we can fight for you again."

"What’s the situation ahead?" Brand suddenly asked.

Batom was stunned.

"I mean, how many Undead armies of Madara are there in Sharp Stone River Valley?"

"Countless, my Lord. Large squads of skeleton cavalry, they’ve been chasing and driving the refugees forward since the night, that bastard Luc Besson couldn’t resist at all, he was chased all the way, then ambushed by a large number of monsters, nearly annihilated—"

Brand was not surprised at Luc Besson’s performance; ’Tiger’ Luc Besson was indeed among the fiercest in the White Mane Legion, but he couldn’t escape the limitations of history, failure was inevitable.

Large squads of skeleton cavalry, did Kabais and Dead Maggot merge their forces? He suddenly thought of this question: "Large number of monsters? What kind of monsters?"

"They are about the size of humans, with smooth dark green skin, long iron claws, and a foul stench. They sprang from the rocks around the valley to attack us, and only about two or three out of ten survived the onslaught."