Amber Sword

Chapter 1170: Chapter 293: Ambeser Council_3

The hall was in an uproar.

Brand nearly jumped from his seat in shock. He stared in disbelief at the fragile seventeen-year-old Half-Elf Girl standing there, isolated and helpless, yet her gaze seemed to pierce through the heavy fog of history to glimpse the inevitable fate of Erune. She actually saw it? She actually saw it!

Brand had always believed the Princess had chosen the wrong path, ultimately leading the Kingdom into the Abyss. But he hadn’t realized the Princess had long seen her destiny, and had long seen the path leading into darkness and thorns, flowing with blood, burning with unstoppable destruction in the flames of hell—

What power drives her? Is it merely a support for hope? Or is it her Royal responsibilities? Brand looked at this seventeen-year-old Half-Elf Girl, finding his breath caught for a moment.

"Princess, you’re being alarmist," Moros responded indifferently. "The Flame Temple would never permit the Kingdom they protect to be suddenly destroyed."

Griffith calmly glanced at him, "Lord of Priest, please speak."

"It is time for Erune to choose a new master. All the Kingdom’s nobles are present, so in accordance with the ancient oath, let them decide the Kingdom’s fate once more," Moros answered. "This would also be the voice of this ancient Kingdom. Let it echo once more in this holy hall, and let us sign the sacred contract, glory and justice shall be fulfilled here."

Duke Sifah’s face showed a gleam, Duke Anliek lowered his lids and remained expressionless, most other nobles expressed agreement, only Duke Viero’s Envoy refrained from any statement, while Count Yanilasu—the naval admiral—turned his gaze solely to the Princess and withheld his stance.

For a moment, the grand mansion presented a one-sided situation. The Royalists turned their eyes to Duke Anliek, but received no response from the latter—Brand watched this scene, unable to help but feel slightly surprised; this was very different from history, the Royalists found themselves at a disadvantage in the meeting. He coldly stared at Anliek, his hand slightly relaxing from the sword hilt of the Earth Sword through the Dimension Hole.

The development of the situation exceeded his expectations, allowing him to once again suppress his murderous intent.

Fortunately, let’s observe further.

"Princess?"

"I will not allow that." Griffith seemed to have anticipated such a situation, answered coldly and decisively.

"Princess, I advise you not to act alone," Bishop Moros’s face changed, unexpectedly the Princess showed him no regard, "Even the Royal Family needs the nobles to govern this country. Acting alone will only alienate the Colcorva family—I assume you would not want the Kingdom’s nobles to slaughter each other, right?"

This was a blatant threat.

But no fear could be found on the Princess’s face; she replied calmly, "There is no King on the throne elsewhere. When nobles come to spill blood, Erune must choose a new King, but one condition needs to be met. Have you all forgotten the ancient oath?"

Lion Heart Sword.

Everyone’s expression changed; it was then they remembered that if Duke Sifah wanted to establish a new King, he must first fulfill Former King Ai Ke’s oath: ’Should the day come when Erune’s nobles forget their duties, then this Sword shall return from where it came and cease to shelter this country.’ The Lion Heart Sword has been missing for over two hundred and sixty years, and no one knows its whereabouts.

And this Sword happens to be what the Xifah Dynasty lost, and precisely the reason why the last King of the Xifah Dynasty abdicated to the Colcorva family. Until the day this Sword returns, the Xifah family is proven unqualified to reclaim the throne.

Everyone was momentarily stunned; Former King Ai Ke’s oath was a heavy shackle locked in the hearts of Erune Nobles. It served as the foundation of Erune’s country, and no one dared deny it because doing so equaled denying the existence of nobles themselves. Once the Princess had spoken, the hall fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Then, everyone suddenly recalled something, and all turned their heads, gazing in Brand’s direction.

To be precise, they focused on Earl of Yan Castle, Delphire.

Brand was slightly startled; he turned his head and discovered the Countess’s face showed no sign of surprise, as if she had anticipated this moment. Her expression was calm, but her snow-white face appeared somewhat dazed—she gazed at Griffith not far away, her eyes hiding a certain complex and struggling emotion.