Amber Sword
Chapter 82: Scene 34: Golden Magic Tree

He had taken this route hundreds of times before. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been discovered during failed attempts in the past, but that was when he wasn’t as skilled. Compared to before, the likelihood of being spotted now was slim. Although the Magic Tree People were strong and aggressive, these naturally blind creatures were not good at detecting—they were more delayed in transmitting sound than light.

However, the tense Brando still heard the slight scraping sound of a boot tip on rock. He turned his head and saw Frey glaring back at him nervously. The young man couldn’t help but frown: you’re still too nervous, Frey.

He stopped to let Roman pass him. Miss Merchant did it very well—she kept her body low, her breathing even, her steps neither too big nor too small, moving with the grace and dexterity of a cat, without making too much noise. Her mindset was cautious yet excited, and the tension in her heart only served to unlock more of her potential—Roman always believed she was a born merchant and adventurer.

"Roman, you did great, keep it up—" Brando encouraged silently with his lips.

Miss Merchant nodded quickly, with a small motion, but she could not hide her pride.

Brando let Roman go ahead and then focused his gaze on Frey behind him. The girl seemed to be aware of her state and couldn’t help but lower her head. The young man sighed silently at this sight. From any aspect—intelligence, judgment, mental toughness, and physical fitness—this future Valkyrie did not seem destined to be anything more than ordinary.

Yet only Brando knew that within her lay some potential that would one day earn her that legendary title.

He couldn’t help but watch her closely as she bowed her head, revealing her long, light brown hair. Its texture was smooth and well-groomed, showing the careful attention of its owner. Not exactly exquisite, but meticulous.

At this moment, Frey crept past him silently, her long ponytail swaying with her movements like a signal of her unyielding spirit. Brando knew it was a unique form of stubbornness.

Moved, he called out, "Frey."

Frey paused in her movements.

"You’re too tense, relax a bit."

"I’m sorry, I..."

"It’s okay."

"Do you see that rock ahead? Now it’s time to split up. You hide behind it, and when the patrol passes, you have to immediately divert the last two Magic Tree People’s attention."

Frey nodded.

"You go first. I’ll be right here watching you. I believe you can do it well." Brando flipped over, lying sideways among the rubble, and signaled to her.

The girl could no longer restrain her surprised expression. This wasn’t part of their initial plan, but she wasn’t foolish. She understood that Brando intended to stay behind to encourage her, a thought that touched her slightly—though all she could do at that moment was press her lips together tightly and nod solemnly.

Brando watched Frey as she moved forward, her actions becoming steadier, and he finally sighed with relief.

In fact, such on-the-fly adjustments were quite normal. Few people had innate talents like Roman. When he turned around, he saw the merchant lady had also stopped and was watching him curiously. He couldn’t help but gesture to her to continue forward with a hint of frustration.

Sadly, while her mental composure was excellent, her thought process was far from normal. When it came down to it, Frey was the more reliable one. He still looked forward to the day when the future Valkyrie would fully grow into her own.

Frey quickly reached her designated position. The patrol had just passed through half the valley without encountering any issues—truthfully, there never would be any issues; the girl was just too nervous. Still, Brando now faced a bit of trouble. Staying behind to encourage Frey had cost him some time, and the Magic Tree People had already rounded a half circle and were entering their ambush zone. From this distance, he was in real danger of being detected.

Nonetheless, Brando was Brando. He rigidly controlled the route and timing to perfection, without any mistakes. By the time he crawled up to Roman again, even he couldn’t help but wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. It had been nerve-racking, but he hadn’t let his emotions hinder his performance—just like in the game, it was flawless.