Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V2C126

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Chapter 126: Power and Responsibility, Part 2

“Cinnabar?”

Macaro froze, his heart sinking as he realized the intent behind Brandon’s earlier question. But now was not the time to dwell on it. Even Liwutz wouldn’t tolerate him upsetting this young man, no matter how painful it was to watch one of his own being swayed against him. Yet this blow struck deep and fast, and for all his composure, Macaro couldn’t bear to meet Cinnabar’s gaze—her eyes brimming with disbelief, accusation, and a fragile plea for justification.

He had a thousand excuses, perhaps even a single word of explanation would suffice, but in this moment, Macaro dared not utter a syllable. Everyone present could feel the pulsating energy of a golden core emanating from Cinnabar—gold-rank power. He didn’t know what had transpired to cause her rapid ascension, assuming it was the latent potential unleashed in a life-or-death struggle. This meant that the fiery-haired girl before them was no ordinary talent—but a prodigy they had overlooked.

And yet, the Golden Apple in Brandon’s hand radiated an even purer essence of the golden bloodline.

Its consumption granted the destiny of the chosen.

The words Macaro intended to say lodged in his throat, emerging instead as a feeble, “Cinnabar, you…?”

That single sentence seemed to drain the last of the girl’s resolve. She stared at him—the man who had long occupied the role of a father figure in her heart. Her gaze wasn’t one of disappointment so much as a desperate plea, begging for even a single lie that might offer her solace. Like the foolish daughter awaiting reconciliation with an unyielding family member, she hoped he would turn back and whisper, “I’m sorry. Welcome home…”

But all she received was an evasive response, cloaked in concern yet distant as that of a stranger. The towering figure she once admired now felt impossibly far away. Clutching her chest, tears spilled over as she whimpered like a wounded animal, collapsing to her knees before falling forward into unconsciousness.

Seeing this, Macaro found himself speechless.

Brandon watched the man coldly.

He felt a gentle nudge at his back and nodded, understanding the silent message. Without Aloz’s intervention, he wouldn’t have detected Cinnabar’s approach. Still, it hadn’t been his intention to subject her to such sorrow. Perhaps he’d foreseen Macaro’s answer, but even so, he needed Cinnabar to grasp the truth—not as charity, but because he refused to allow Macaro to manipulate another pawn.

“I’m sorry,” Brandon murmured, exhaling deeply.

Rising, he walked over to Cinnabar, wiping the dirt from her tear-streaked face. In sleep, her vulnerability surfaced; pale but serene, she resembled an angel. Carefully, he propped her upright and leaned her against a fir tree. Turning back, his gaze swept over the others with quiet authority.

“Sir Brandon?” Liwutz interjected, noting Macaro’s faltering composure.

“Macaro.”

Brandon cut him off, his voice sharp as a blade glinting in moonlight. His fury burned white-hot, leaving the group momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in his demeanor. With biting clarity, he declared, “Don’t think I don’t see through your schemes—”

“Since the reign of Anson VII, Eruin has waned, its light flickering in the chaos like a dying ember. For ten years, you’ve gambled everything, seizing every chance to reverse fortune’s tide. Your plan was precise, merciless, seemingly logical—all to overthrow Duke Anlek. You concealed the truth, making the world believe Duke Lantonilan merely sought to preserve his crumbling legacy. Who else aids you? Sivak?”

Each word pierced their hearts like daggers. Macaro and Liwutz paled, momentarily forgetting to breathe. They could only wonder who this young man truly was.

Brandon had laid bare the entirety of their plot—a sacred gamble they believed would restore glory to the realm. Every sacrifice, they reasoned, was justified, even worth their lives. Political maneuvering had become a fervent faith. As Brandon said, opportunity came but once. If seized, dawn’s light would surely banish the shadows.

Their legendary tale awaited its fabled conclusion. Yet none expected a stranger to unravel their plans entirely, down to the smallest detail. Conceived a decade ago, certain intricacies remained unknown even to later participants. So who was this youth named Brandon?

What did he seek?

But Brandon’s anger only grew. Standing tall like a blade, his voice chilled the air. “You claim to uphold the royal family’s justice, wielding swords for the nation’s future. Yet your folly blinds you to one truth: should you fail, will you still send others to die with clean consciences?”

“Wait,” Liwutz interjected, irritation seeping into his tone. Though this young man held something vital to them, their plan was sacrosanct—it represented the crown’s honor.

“What would you say, Master Liwutz?” Brandon asked icily.

“All you’ve said rests upon an assumption…”

“Do you wish to know the truth?”

Brandon sneered, drawing a deep breath.

In that instant, it was as if another soul stood beside him. His gaze pierced through the world’s constraints, Su Fei’s words echoing within. Time and space crumbled before him, revealing the past in stark clarity. Palaces and cities burned in flames, kingdoms fell, and all they once knew vanished.

The princess’s vision.

Valkyrie’s vow.

A kingdom reborn from ashes, where players poured their hearts into battle. Yet before Madara’s undead and the black tide of invaders, their efforts shattered. It was a destined failure, a tragic end. Yet these nobles still manipulated fate from their lofty perches, convinced of their ultimate victory. Like grim reapers, they sacrificed nameless lives to fuel their fervor.

Silent deaths bled coldly from their veins.

They perished.

For naught but a cold conclusion.

No one bore responsibility.

Players remembered the dark humor, but what of these nobles? They merely shifted boards, continuing their game. Each move was sanctified, representing light or darkness, justice or malevolence—a creed untouchable, like the blood flowing through noble veins.

“How do I explain this truth to you…” Brandon sighed wearily, waving his hand. “Take the Golden Apple in my hand. I understand its allure—it makes your game shine brighter, tipping the scales in your favor. That’s how you imagine it.”

“Unfortunately, your failure is inevitable.”

“What did you say?” Buga frowned, unable to contain himself.

“Young man, not everyone can be a Star Seer,” Liwutz shook his head.

“And those witches who spread rumors were bound to stakes and burned,” Macaro added coldly.

Brandon smiled faintly.

True enough, but he happened to foresee—or rather, see—their downfall. Yet he wouldn’t say as much, instead asking, “You doubt me?”

“Reasons?” Buga pressed simply.

“I remember Eruin’s brightest days. Knights bearing horns and pennants, banners unfurled as swords charged forth. Battlefields became seas of flags adorned with golden crests—Colcova, Goran, Elsun, Anlek. Nobles upheld their oaths then…” Brandon smirked. “Do you recall those vows?”

All were silent.

“You don’t?” Scorn filled Brandon’s eyes. “No matter. Allow me to recite them.”

“Beneath this sword, I swear a sage’s oath. I vow to lead my people—away from strife and slaughter, from the arrogance and greed of imperial nobility. I vow never to repeat history’s cold-blooded mistakes, ensuring this new kingdom’s nobles adhere to knightly virtues—just, resolute, brave, merciful, and generous. This vow I make, dedicating my life to uphold it.”

His voice rang out, firm and resonant, before turning to the stunned assembly.

“Do you remember who made this vow?” he asked softly.

Liwutz, Macaro, and Buga exchanged uneasy glances, shame creeping onto their faces. Of course they knew—they simply forgot.

“Yes,” Brandon nodded. “This is the foundation of all you believe, the spirit of Eruin’s nobility. It was King Eck the Merciful, Eruin’s first sovereign, who swore beneath the Lionheart Sword. Do you recall his words? Should Eruin’s nobles forget their duty, the sword which protected this land shall return whence it came, abandoning us forever.”

“Do you remember?”

“No, you’ve forgotten.”

“A pity.”

Brandon sighed, gazing into the forest.

Sunlight filtered through the trees, bathing the southern woods in an unprecedented tranquility.

Project Update: Volume 2 is now fully translated! However, as I'm currently focusing on stacking chapters for Volume 3, the release of the remaining chapters in Volume 2 will slow down a bit.

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