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edvertisementideas > The Amber Sword > Volume N/A - CH 587



Whether it is Vaunte or our world, there will always be some aspects of the battlefield which go unnoticed throughout the ages. It was like a dead end forgotten by the gaze of the gods. No matter how fierce the fighting was there, or what odd things were going on, it was like a vacuum within the minds of the commanders on both sides of the war, and no one would look much into it. Constructed around the chaotic age of 1400 at the East Gate of Ampere Seal was an elfin-style fortress called Hafermeri Fortress. Ever since its birth, it seemed to either be blessed or cursed; every battle was far from it. When Erik faced the barbarians, Razor Sihad, the lord of the mountain folk, spared the wide-open east side and took the long way to attack Ampere Seale’s southern gate. Later, in the fight against Madara’s first invasion in the Tide of Darkness, the Skeleton Lords once again spared the ancient fortress. So much so that to this day, the princess’ party and the northern nobles seem to have agreed that there is not much use for Hafermeli Fortress. After the demon invasion, the whole city was turned into rubble but the northeast corner was still as silent as ever. For a fortress built to deal with the war, it was really hard to say whether this is a good or bad thing.

But after seven hundred years of erosion, the fortress, which had hardly ever seen war, showed its age. The battlements had moss growing all over them, and the walls had turned dark green – which represented its history. The only difference between it and other fortresses was that there was not a single scratch on the 300-meter-long section of the fortress. There were no signs of old and new sections blending with each other haphazardly. No human soldiers were in the fortress at the moment, however, hordes of eagle demons huddled on top of the battlements, chattering, or hovered over them in the heavy rain. The Harbor Guards had withdrawn on their own, so Fort Hafermeri was lucky to have missed another battle.

The eagle demons watched from the sky as a large pit that was hundreds of meters in diameter took shape below. Hundreds of cavemen dug in this worksite – or more accurately, muddy puddle. Doing anything in such stormy weather was not the wisest thing, which included digging holes and fighting a war. Although the cavemen under the command of the warlocks of the Jorgendigan Underground erected scaffolding to stabilize the four walls, collapses still occurred from time to time. The good thing was that the cavemen’s lives were insignificant, and Lord Stark didn’t care if one, a hundred, or a thousand more cavemen died, it didn’t make any difference to him. The only thing that mattered was how much gold was spent. The cavemen bred so fast that it only takes a small piece of land to get a whole army of them. All he had to do was dig that thing up within the deadline, and any losses would be repaid later on.

A throbbing sensation came from the gr

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