Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V2C149

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Chapter 149: The Dawn Part 3

The cold air churned in the depths of night, a rumbling sound growing louder as it approached.

Rows of noble cavalry, their armor gleaming under faint moonlight, lowered their steel visors in unison. The frosty glint of leveled spears caught the dim light as their horses reared and charged around the corner with thunderous hooves.

For a moment, the earth itself trembled.

But Brandon stood still, his gaze icy and unwavering. Between his fingers, he held a silver card etched with intricate runes, lifting it effortlessly before flicking it forward. "Unicorn Knight—enter the field," he intoned.

The card arced through the air, landing with a soft clatter on the cobblestones.

And then—it happened.

A cascade of white light poured from the heavens, shimmering like falling snowflakes. From within that radiant gate stepped a maiden knight, her silver spear resting lightly against her shoulder. Mounted atop a horned steed, both rider and beast exuded an aura of regal defiance. With a single motion, she leveled her weapon, appearing at the center of the street as if summoned by the dawn itself.

Summoner?

The battlefield froze for a heartbeat.

"My lord," the voice of the Silver Elf princess rang out, ethereal yet warm. Her words carried a quiet gratitude. "Thank you."

Brandon knew what she meant—the necklace. He shook his head slightly, replying, "I told you, this is something you should thank your own kin for."

Metissa’s lips curved into a gentle smile. One hand rested over her chest as she responded, "The process matters little, my lord. I failed to act as well. And now, what are your orders for Metissa?"

"Advance."

Brandon's voice was firm, his eyes fixed ahead.

The noble cavalry was nearly upon them.

Beside him, the young apprentice wizard hesitated. Summoning was a branch of Array Magic, sharing common threads with the ancient Arcane Magic—but even so, summoning a 'Silver Knight' was no small feat. Such entities were better suited for defense than offense.

Yet just as the young man opened his mouth to caution Brandon, his words died on his tongue. His outstretched hand froze mid-air, his body rigid as stone.

Because Brandon had raised his sword.

The silver knight turned her head, her pale gray eyes reflecting the approaching cavalry. Yet when she lifted her spear, the distance between them seemed to stretch impossibly wide in an instant—a disorienting distortion of space and time. It was as though the very fabric of reality solidified around her presence, tangible and unyielding.

Elemental force.

"Thousand-Man—"

"Strike."

The Silver Elf princess lowered her visor, her voice muffled but resolute. Then, she surged forward, rider and steed merging into a streak of silver light. This bolt pierced through the heart of the cavalry formation, halting their charge in its tracks. Metissa’s power erupted fully now—a golden-rank strength slicing outward like a blade, scattering foes in every direction.

In the blink of an eye, chaos reigned. Men fell, horses screamed, and the once-proud line of nobles crumbled.

Gold-rank.

Another one.

Three mercenary captains—Yuta, Frein, and Clenxia—alongside their troops, sucked in sharp breaths. To witness even one gold-rank warrior in such a remote place was rare; to see two appear simultaneously was unheard of. And among them, one was clearly a summoned entity under Brandon’s control.

Who exactly was this man?

At that moment, all three silently thanked their stars they hadn’t chosen the wrong side. While Baron Grudin’s bounty might have forced them into hiding, Brandon’s displayed prowess promised immediate death to any who opposed him. Gold-rank strength, once attuned to elemental forces, created an insurmountable chasm between those of silver or iron ranks.

Clenxia, watching the scene unfold, clenched his teeth. His pale blue eyes hardened with resolve. Drawing his longsword, he raised his arm high. "Men of Rose and Wine! For our fallen companions—fight!"

"Fight!" came the echoing chorus. Behind him, mercenaries surged forward, overtaking Brandon one by one as they joined the fray. Though the noble cavalry had been momentarily stalled, they began to dig in, holding their ground on the street.

But this was only one front. Brandon knew reinforcements would arrive without end.

They would want answers.

He glanced back at the silver-haired middle-aged man.

"My lord, Commander of the Rose and Wine Mercenary Company stands beside you," Clenxia declared, his voice low but steady. "I hope you will lead us through this trial—"

Brandon smirked faintly, neither confirming nor denying.

He could sense Clenxia’s reluctance, but he understood it. He had pushed these men onto this path with sheer force, leaving them no choice. But having chosen this course, there was no turning back. He would rely on these mercenaries—but never be bound by them.

This was merely the first move in a much larger game. The true battle had only begun.

Raising his sword, Brandon pointed its tip toward Cold Fir City’s fortress, shrouded in darkness.

"Clenxia?"

"Yes?" The silver-haired man blinked, startled.

"We’ll discuss the next step when we reach there. Until then, idle talk is meaningless. Either way, failure means annihilation for us both." Brandon spoke slowly, each word deliberate and calm.

Clenxia faltered.

"You truly intend to kill him, my lord?" His throat felt dry, and he swallowed nervously. "Grudin is a noble of the kingdom, son of Earl Jandel. Surely teaching him a lesson suffices...?"

Brandon met his gaze.

He shook his head, inwardly amused at how Eruin’s rigid hierarchy made even a seasoned mercenary leader like Clenxia naively optimistic about such matters.

"It is not I who seeks his death, Clenxia," the young man replied with a faint smile. "But rather, evil deeds sow their own destruction."

Clenxia stiffened, clenching his fists tightly.

Behind them, Yuta, the red-haired mercenary captain with emerald-green eyes, observed the exchange. Turning to Frein, leader of the Firelands Warband, she remarked with interest, "Looks like Clenxia’s made up his mind to see this through. Quite unusual for him."

"Hmph," the towering figure snorted disdainfully. "Just a fox playing coy."

The battle raged on.

Reinforcements from Baron Grudin were closing in from all directions. The distant rumble of hooves grew louder down the streets.

Yuta’s eyes flashed. Pointing at the hulking man, she commanded, "Frein, hold this position. I’ll go support the lord. As for the west gate, leave it to me and my people."

"Why should I stay behind?" Frein frowned, crossing his arms. "The Firelands Warband isn’t weaker than any of yours."

The red-haired woman smiled slyly. "Oh? Are you challenging a mere woman, Frein? I heard you were once a knight. Shouldn’t knights practice chivalry?"

Frein grunted, turning away dismissively. Planting his massive greatsword into the ground with a sharp crack, he scanned the gathered warriors. His voice boomed across the field. "Until dawn breaks, not a single undead shall enter the city. Any coward who retreats risks losing more than pride."

With that, he raised a clenched fist.

Moments later, weapons rose in silent acknowledgment.

Yuta’s lips curled into a victorious grin, though her expression quickly sobered. When she turned back, her face was as cold as winter frost. Extending her arm, she called out, "My men, follow me!"

Her voice cut through the air like a blade dipped in ice.

Frein watched her go, his jaw tightening. Chivalry didn’t dictate sending women to fight, but this time, he said nothing. He knew Yuta’s younger sister had perished in the morning’s massacre. Each of them bore silent burdens, their hearts ablaze with vengeance yet choosing to turn away from the darkness. That young man had driven them to this point—but hadn’t their choices aligned with his?

Facing their inner truths, confronting the flames of wrath within.

Frein gazed into the endless night, sighing deeply.

Dawn.

Light must come first for dawn to break.

But where was the light?

…

If the battlefield was a grand chessboard, then the pieces had come alive, dancing vividly in this moment.

The noble cavalry couldn’t halt Brandon’s advance. Soon, crossbowmen took positions behind their lines. These heavily armored marksmen formed the core of the noble private army. At a command, they raised their quad-bows, winding taut strings and loading steel bolts.

Then, with a shout, a storm of black arrows descended.

Mercenaries at the forefront fell in rows, cut down mercilessly. Clenxia slashed through incoming bolts aimed at himself, his face darkening as he witnessed his companions’ losses.

Yet as the arrows neared Brandon, the young man shielded Funiya with one arm while sweeping his sword in a wide arc. A gust of wind pressure from the White Crow Swordsmanship sent the projectiles spiraling back, embedding themselves harmlessly into walls.

Pressing forward, Brandon gestured ahead. Metissa charged forth, spear leading the way.

The defenders’ hastily organized second line wavered instantly. The noble soldiers relied on two silver-rank knights—but alas, their opponents were far beyond mere gold-rank strength.

For facing them now was a true Silver Elf knight.

Trained over centuries in combat arts, the Silver Elf maiden’s instincts surpassed mortal comprehension. Like a breeze, she evaded the knights’ spears, sweeping them off their mounts with a single thrust.

In an instant, the heavily armored crossbowmen found themselves staring down a terrifying Unicorn Knight—with nothing left between them.

Metissa lowered her spear, her silver eyes glinting with icy resolve.

And thus, the defenders broke.

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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