Amber Sword
Chapter 89: Act 36 Superego_2

Chapter 89: Act 36 Superego_2

He stared into his grandfather’s eyes. The old man’s demeanor was always calm and composed, but there was an air of penetrating insight about him.

Brand suddenly found it strange. Why was such an exceptional grandfather so indifferent in Brand’s heart? Even when he first saw the old man, Brand had to rely on his childhood memories to confirm—this was indeed his grandfather.

This was obviously abnormal.

Searching through his memories, Brand’s recollections of his grandfather seemed to amount to only sternness, a lack of humor, and the heavy aura of the Candlelight Medal and the November War veteran. Other memories of his grandfather were even less vivid than those of the old house or that oil painting.

But how could it be possible for a grandson who lived with his grandfather for several years to become strangers upon reuniting one day? Even forgetting his grandfather’s appearance and voice seemed uncharacteristic of Brand.

He blocked another sword strike with a clanging sound of metal. The sword in his hand felt heavier, almost slipping from his grasp. Brand was surprised and couldn’t help but glance at the old man.

The old man’s expression grew serious, and he seemed somewhat displeased.

Ten years, and I still can’t match my grandfather.

Brand couldn’t help but spell out the message in his heart—this is self-doubt! Shocked, a crack appeared in his mental defense, and his attacks became more disorganized, allowing the old man to knock him to the ground with a swift counterattack. Our protagonist felt chilled to the bone and quickly scrambled to his feet.

But when he looked back, there was no grass. It was obviously a grayish house. Yes, this was Buqi’s old house, where he had awakened that night and entered this world.

Brand’s forehead was drenched in cold sweat, indicating that the Golden Magic Tree’s intrusion had deepened. He couldn’t help reaching for his pouch, where the key to overcoming this scene was—but he hesitated, wondering if he should take the easy way out.

Suddenly, a sense of unwillingness arose in his heart. He looked up at the old man’s face, his grandfather’s face. The old man still wore a stern expression, with a hint of disappointment in his deeply wrinkled face.

This disappointment pierced him deeply.

It was as if Brand’s twenty years of memories suddenly became clear, as if wanting to break free from his body and fight his grandfather alone.

I can do it, let me do it—

Suddenly, this thought emerged in his heart. He knew this was Brand’s emotions influencing him. He had already integrated into this world, into the memories of his loved ones.

But he shook his head. No, maybe this was the Golden Magic Tree exploiting human weakness? He had to use that technique to leave this dream immediately, but when his hand reached the spot, he was suddenly startled.

Because he saw the disappointment on the old man’s face becoming more pronounced—

"No, I can’t abandon Brand."

"But you must understand, the Golden Magic Tree is exploiting Brand’s weakness."

"But even so, it is part of me."

"You will fail."

"But abandoning weakness is not conquering oneself."

Brand suddenly calmed down.

He suddenly realized something. Why hadn’t Brand’s grandfather spoken a word since drawing his sword? Even though the old man had many opportunities to completely break Brand’s mental defense, his face remained deeply disappointed.

But the old man said nothing, just quietly watched and waited.

Suddenly, Brand felt a lightning bolt strike through his soul, illuminating every dark corner of his heart. He suddenly understood that this was not the Golden Magic Tree showing compassion to Brand.

No, it was because that young man was still holding on to the last piece of purity in his heart!

Why was that?

Brand couldn’t help but look up at the old man’s solemn and slightly sighing face, the face hidden in the shadows of the old house. In the midst of its old age, was it hiding something? Was it disappointment?

Indeed, it was disappointment.

Suddenly, his whole body started trembling. What was this waiting in the disappointment? It was an unspoken expectation, Brand. That was the grandfather in Brand’s memories, severe, with eyes full of disappointment for this young man’s growth, but this deep disappointment wasn’t blame—it was the hope that Brand would one day understand the familial love behind this expectation.

Family will never truly blame you; they only wait for the day you understand. Maybe someday they will grow old, maybe someday they will not be in this world, but they still remain in your heart, waiting for the day you understand.

For the day you understand their love.

Brand raised his head, gripping his sword tightly. He looked up, fighting back tears. He always thought he understood this world, but he realized he knew nothing.

"Brand, do you remember what I told you? Your spine must be as straight as your sword, Damon family men must live with their heads held high. You are my grandson, the best one in my heart." The old man raised his sword again.

"Come, let me see what you have learned in the ten years since I left."

Brand nodded, tears streaming down his face. These were his grandfather’s words, yet they were not; this was the answer he gave himself. This was the path Brand wanted.

He took a deep breath.

The two swords clashed—

"Stand up, Brand, how can a Damon family man be so weak."

"Why are you crying, does a little scrape mean you’re done for?"

"Tell me, how should I punish you this time?"

The grandfather in his mind should be the one who sat sternly in the elder’s seat, silently watching him with disappointed eyes.

The grandfather in his mind should be the one always dissatisfied with his every action.

But the old man in his memory eventually walked his last journey in life. Brand stood in front of the wooden bed, feeling his grandfather’s hand gently placed on his head, just like when he was a child by the Prague River, brushing his hair. But in the end, he lost strength, his hand sliding down his young face.

So rough, yet filled with a sense of reliability. Was that sigh, even to the end, disappointment, or did it carry heavy expectations and hopes?

Brand felt his grandfather’s dream world collapsing around him, and he held the Candlelight Medal, which was turning into specks of dust and fading away, in his hand, speechless for a long time.

"Thank you, old man."

"Thank you, my grandfather."

...

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