The Amber Sword

Coulan looked with a little complex look at the young man sitting firmly on the silver warhorse. He entered the gold field thirty years ago, and only solidified in the middle stage a few years ago, but this young man seems to be heavenly Beloved-No, even the apocalypse cannot reach the middle of the golden age at this age, unless it is a man born by fate.

But the people who can be selected by heaven are all locked up with the fetters of fate, and they are deprived of a crippled body, like a blind Yola. So when the old swordsman saw Brando, he didn't even think in that direction. He paused and asked anxiously:

"Young man, who is your Imprint?"

"What?" Brando frowned.

"Don't pretend me to be garlic, I ask who your Imprint is, you understand!" The old man suddenly jumped angrily, and he yelled, "This is very important, tell me--"

"What are you talking about, what do I understand?"

Brando was really confused this time. When he saw Kuran coming over, he thought the old man wanted to remind himself, but he didn't expect that the other person said a series of inexplicable questions.

But he was about to ask, and the huge voice over the gladiatorial field suddenly sounded again, interrupting the conversation between them:

"Mortal, continue to challenge?"

"Of course," Brando replied.

"Boy, answer me!" Couran yelled against the air wall outside. But Brando glanced over him, gave him a wait gesture, and then he looked up, waiting for the host in the fantasy to announce the rules.

Sure enough, he saw a row of faint green text immediately appear on his retina—

"Nightmare Arena."

"The next battlefield is the Nightmare Arena!" At the same time, the sound of a thunderous sound over the sky also announced the same words in everyone's hearts.

Brando's face suddenly changed.

"What is a nightmare arena, Lord Lord?" Matissa frowned, and asked back quietly.

...

"What is a nightmare arena, Cowen?" At the same time, Maher asked the same question from his companions.

"I don't know." The thin boy's answer was simple.

"What are they arguing about?" But Joca's attention fell on Brando and Kuran. Compared with this strange world, he was more worried about whether this pedestrian could leave here safely.

"I don't know." The same answer.

"But why should he continue to challenge, there is no one else to save here?" Someone among the teenagers asked.

"I don't think it's that simple," someone replied, "Although I don't know where this is, I think it will cost a lot of money to build such a place. Is it just for the game of grabbing or letting people go? ? "

His words resonated with many people, and they all looked up and looked around worriedly.

"Well, you don't know the hobbies of the noble masters. Maybe they are just for fun!" But some people retorted.

"It's not necessarily made by the noble grandpas. I remember if we were right under the mine, how did I feel weird with the thing we dug out."

"Yeah, I support that too! Besides, it was a dragon just now. I think those things are a bit-how to say, now I feel like I'm in a dream, and I don't know if this is true. "

The teenager said as he touched the cold iron fence.

The people were silent.

"His goal is that sword." Ke Wen's voice was not high, but he always waited for these shy teenagers to finish speaking slowly, which sounded particularly weighty.

The skinny boy stared at the dark sword on the central monument of the gladiator field, and he noticed that Brando had turned his gaze in that direction several times.

When he said that, others immediately seemed to make some sense.

"Then he doesn't plan to save us?" Someone asked worriedly.

"Why do others save us—" It was a questioning voice.

"Kevin?" Joca looked at his companion. In his mind, Kewen was the most knowledgeable and most thoughtful person he had ever met, although he was not very talkative most of the time, but every time Very insightful at one time.

"I have a way," Ke Wen whispered, but more like cheering himself up: "--- I think of a way to convince him."

"How do you convince him?" Maher asked puzzledly.

"Make a deal with him."

Maher's eyes widened: "You wouldn't really want to trade with you for those weird things that are worthless. It would be no good for us to anger him!"

Ke Wen didn't answer, but glanced at his companion silently.

...

"The nightmare arena is an extreme mode. No matter how strong you are in this arena, you are just an ordinary person. Here, you must use your skills to defeat the enemy."

"Tricks?" Meditis raised her eyebrows slightly. "What tricks?"

Brando flicked his blade with his fingers: "Combat skills."

The silver elf girl was silent, as if thinking. It sounds more favorable to them, but she would not think so. Although the Lord Lord did not mention it, she could probably guess that it would not be so simple.

Brando lifted his head and looked up into the air, and soon there were rows of golden text in the sky, dwarven, ancient / modern Cruz, Tatar, elven, dragon and even a way to make Brando Scary Language:

He touched his nose, pretending not to see the rows of familiar squares.

However, enough weirdness has been shown here, and the Chinese characters appearing out of thin air in the sky have not attracted much attention. To ancient civilization, it seems that there is no obscure language that behaves abnormally.

And everyone present was more concerned about the content of those words:

I. Power dissipating (Force participants, the power is forcibly reduced to less than 10 energy levels)

Second, skill dissolution (the two parties involved in the battle, all except the specified skills, all other abilities automatically disappear)

3. Swordplay (designated skill is swordplay)

Yuta took a breath. Although the power of the young lord had surprised her, the head of the mercenary knew that it was different from the level of power—like the apocalypse might have been born with more than silver power— -But sword art is different. This is a skill that needs years of training.

Without decades of indulgence, no matter how talented one is, one cannot be called a master in swordplay. Whether in Eruin, Cruz or even Warnd, those who are regarded as a generation of grand masters are mostly gray-haired, old age.

"Don't worry, Yuta," Qian's thin voice came from behind, and she seemed to see the worry in the head of the female head. But the red-haired girl seemed to have more confidence in Brando, she just hid her worries deeper in the amber eyes: "Lord's sword skills are very powerful-"

"I know grown-up swordsmanship is very good." Yuta responded, but she frowned. "But I don't know who the enemy is," she whispered. "Even in the history of Eruin, she was famous There are many sword masters. "

Akane could not help but worry for a moment.

Brando himself was also worried. His thoughts were actually similar to those of the head of a mercenary regiment. The nightmare challenge was not so simple. He already wondered which swordsman master he was going to face.

The young man held the sword in his hand and suddenly felt the light around him dimmed. Then the next moment, Metissa by her side, the silver warhorse sitting down, and even the celestial spider in the sky disappeared in an instant.

A whisper sounded around.

Mage's ability was also deprived. Brando immediately felt scalp tingling. He had hoped that this ability, which has always behaved like a plug-in, could escape the rules, but now it seems that the role of mage is still in this world Within the rules.

Fortunately, Brando had not yet relied on the identity of the travelling wizard to the point where he could not fight without it. He just took a breath, adjusted his emotions, and then stared vigilantly.

At that moment, the light was getting dark, and he found that he had come to an unfamiliar site-the ground was no longer sandy, but rough granite-neatly cut granite was laid into a huge field.

Brando looked around the field, and then he saw a black shadow appearing just north. He narrowed his eyes slightly and recognized the identity behind the shadow:

"Buga?"

"Cross Sword, Buga."

Kuran and Yuta flashed exactly the same name. Buga's fame in Eruin was not small, not to mention his peculiar standing style of swordsmanship made this old swordsman and head of the maid recognise at a glance. The other party comes.

Kuran frowned deeply, and he had seen the talented young man he had seen in previous years, and knew the opponent's accomplishments in swordplay. But what reassured him a little was that Tobes would not be bad in the same vein, after all, it was the offspring of that person.

Yuta, however, was relieved. She had only seen Buga once as a mercenary when she passed Lantonilan. Of course, she still knows the opponent's swordplay genre, but in her opinion, at least it is easier to deal with than the famous swordsman masters.

But the two had not had time to finish their respective abacus in their hearts, and another dark shadow appeared on the scene.

Brando cried in his heart, because the old acquaintance was the white knight Alberton.

Then came the third shadow, and Brando recognized the man, Viscount Thester.

In the fourth shadow, Brando felt sweating on his forehead, because the figure made him so familiar that he almost lost his sword.

Standing just south of him was his grandfather.

"Tobbs!" Kuran's face changed.

"That's ..." Yuta's complexion also changed, and she felt as if something was stuck in her throat, making her want to speak without making a sound: "Ha ... ha ... Harrasgron ... ... "

"Who is that?" Qian frowned and asked inexplicably.

Yuta looked back at her strangely, but couldn't speak for a moment.

But Brando now has no mood to bother with these things, because he now realizes that he may face a big trouble--

To one enemy four.

"Martha is on!"

...

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