Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V2C151

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Chapter 151: The Dawn Part 5

On the battlefield, a collective gasp rippled through the air.

The noble soldiers and mercenaries paused, their eyes fixed upon Brandon—the young man standing amidst the vast army—with a mixture of awe and reverence. The tale of Copper Dragon Retto had already spread across the southern territories, and whispers of his deeds had even reached certain corners of the north.

It was the Year of Blossoms and Summer Leaves, the year the Black Rose War erupted.

When Karasu fell, the Viero region was thrown into chaos. The White Mane Legion crumbled at the slightest touch, while Goran—Elsun’s stronghold—retreated behind its walls like a turtle withdrawing into its shell. The Stygian Lord Enstallone advanced unopposed, leaving Jandel teetering on the brink of collapse.

No one was surprised by the news of defeat, yet the people of the kingdom still cried out in despair: Where is our army? Where are our victories? Where is our honor?

Their answer came in the form of a cold treaty, written in emotionless ink, declaring that Buchi no longer belonged to the ancient kingdom.

Silence followed.

But within that silence, a faint voice began to rise—a voice that told a story, softly answering the hopes burning in every heart.

It was a bolt of lightning in a pitch-black, rain-soaked night in Ridenburg.

A massive caravan of refugees surged forward, breaking through the flank of the Stygian Lord Enstallone's forces. They cut down the White Knight Eberton, defeated the Corpse Grub Magus, and fought off countless pursuers led by Ladios and Gulob. Like something out of legend, they emerged from the morning mist as if summoned by destiny, appearing before the gates of Braggs overnight.

The man who led them was called Copper Dragon Retto.

Braggs was electrified.

The south erupted in fervor, and the name traveled far—even to the ears of northern nobles lounging in their gilded halls or becoming the subject of tavern gossip among commoners. Retto was hailed as a bringer of miracles.

But now, this undead general who had personally witnessed those battles—this lord of darkness known as the "Deathbringer"—was revealing a different truth. Could it be that the figure standing behind Copper Dragon Retto was someone else entirely?

Kabirus had no reason to deceive them, nor any need. Especially not when the tall skeletal general spoke with a rasping, hollow tone tinged with genuine admiration and anticipation. Its eye sockets flickered with pale yellow soulfire, burning like embers of appreciation.

Was it because of this young knight before them? All eyes instinctively turned toward Brandon.

Why had he remained in the shadows all along? If not for Kabirus mentioning him, would his name have ever been known to the world?

The mercenaries and noble soldiers could scarcely fathom why anyone would reject such glory and renown. They couldn’t begin to guess the circumstances and choices Brandon faced during those times. All they saw now was his reaction—a faint smile.

It wasn’t disdain; it was indifference.

Everyone drew a sharp breath, suddenly grasping the essence of what it meant to walk away from fame, leaving achievements unnamed. Who was he? Though Brandon said nothing, an aura of mystery settled over him like a shroud.

For a moment, the battlefield fell utterly silent.

Brandon, however, remained oblivious to the thoughts swirling in the minds of those around him. Had he known, he might have inwardly sighed in relief. For his expression wasn’t one of arrogance but rather the result of being caught off guard by Kabirus, unsure how to respond while maintaining a practiced, polite smile.

“Clenxia, what are you standing there for?” he called out sharply.

The mercenaries blinked, snapping back to attention. Metissa leveled her spear and charged from the left flank, her unicorn steed streaking like silver light into the enemy ranks. With a single thrust, she pierced the towering Crusader Executioner through the heart. Their makeshift stronghold collapsed in an instant, and the shaky lines of the noble private armies wavered once more before retreating in disarray.

Amidst the chaos, the skeletal general stood firm, the flames in its eye sockets flickering faintly.

Grudin’s private forces inside the city were no match for these mercenaries, and Kabirus knew it well. Unless they could fortify themselves within the inner walls, fighting street-to-street, noble soldiers’ lack of willpower would pale in comparison to the vengeance-fueled mercenaries. One side fought for coin, the other for conviction—the outcome was clear.

But the outer city had already fallen, and retreating to the inner defenses would take time. That was why Kabirus was here. There weren’t many undead within the city, and it needed to deploy its limited forces where they mattered most.

Like here.

But Brandon understood this too.

He had once commanded a warband and knew exactly how pathetic noble levies could be. He also understood Madara’s battlefield habits. Moreover, the critical shift in the balance of power had been meticulously planned from the start. In short, there was no way they could allow Grudin’s men to retreat into the inner city and entrench themselves.

The young man’s lips pressed into a thin line. Kabirus’s calculations were as clear to him as an open book.

The two figures stood motionless amidst the surging tide of battle.

But Brandon wasn’t in a hurry. With Metissa leading the charge, the mercenaries could press forward without him. He had time to wait, but Kabirus might not. His hands hung loosely at his sides, his expression calm as he watched the skeletal general amidst the chaos, waiting for the moment when it could no longer hold its ground.

Meanwhile, the flames in Kabirus’s eye sockets flickered again.

This young man was proving to be unusually troublesome. When had Eruin produced such a brilliant commander? To Kabirus, it seemed as though Brandon possessed an uncanny understanding of the battlefield despite standing amidst the chaos. Little did it know that Brandon had long since ascended to a higher vantage point, viewing the entire conflict from above. Instead, Kabirus felt only a growing sense of unease.

No wonder that man had personally ordered him spared. This young human’s tactical acumen rivaled even Lord Enstallone himself. Were he in Madara, he would surely earn the favor of His Majesty.

At the thought of the supreme ruler cloaked in darkness, wielding the Mercury Staff, Kabirus felt its soulfire tremble. A surge of long-forgotten passion coursed through its bones.

It was as if it had been transported back to the days of glorious combat.

The memories stung, but they also ignited a fierce resolve within Kabirus. Just as Brandon had anticipated, this towering skeleton couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The elven knight leading the mercenaries, her presence eerily similar to Kabirus’s own, was maneuvering around it. If it continued to delay, the tide of battle would turn decisively against it.

Kabirus tightened its grip on its battle axe, only to feel a sudden pressure lock onto it.

“So, you intend to fight me yourself? Aren’t you going to recall the Unicorn Knight?” Kabirus thought bitterly. Brandon’s confidence irked it. Yesterday, they had clashed briefly, and Kabirus knew full well that Brandon’s strength barely scratched the surface of the gold rank.

“I’ve heard you’re proficient in Eruin’s White Crow Swordsmanship,” the undead general rasped, raising its head. “But young human, in battles beyond gold rank, do you truly believe some middling technique can stand against elemental mastery?”

Brandon smiled faintly. If only this creature knew that he not only understood what lay beyond gold but also comprehended the intricacies of awakening elemental affinity and reshaping one’s body for combat. Perhaps then it wouldn’t adopt such a condescending tone.

It was almost amusing—in fact, Brandon found it bordering on absurd.

Still, he activated Detection—a technique honed by the Silver Elves over centuries of warfare. In an instant, data streamed into his mind, and countless white lines extended outward from Kabirus’s form.

Its torso and limbs glowed deep red, indicating strength and constitution at least midway through the gold rank. Its lower limbs, arms, and core shimmered a lighter red, signifying agility at the lower end of gold rank. Its soulforce coalesced like a tangible substance, its mental barriers fluctuating but still at least silver-rank. Intelligence remained inscrutable, as the skill couldn’t probe abilities directly.

None of that mattered.

What mattered was that Detection revealed Kabirus’s potential attack vectors. Each white line represented a possible trajectory of assault.

Prediction—one of Detection’s most powerful abilities.

When Brandon first tested this skill, he could hardly believe his eyes. Only then did he understand why it had gone unmentioned in games past. Amber Sword’s version undoubtedly enhanced hit-and-evade reaction speeds, reducing prediction to mere bonuses in reflexes.

Such a niche ability rarely made waves online, overshadowed by flashier techniques. But here, Detection took on new meaning entirely, describing enemy movements with precision. What might have been mundane elsewhere became extraordinary here.

Every move, every action—laid bare before him.

Only now did Brandon grasp Minnis’s descriptions of the Silver Elves’ martial prowess. With this, combat effectiveness soared exponentially. Knowing your opponent’s next strike before they delivered it? The implications were staggering.

As Kabirus assumed its battle stance, the white lines extending from its body gradually diminished: five, four, three, until finally settling on three definitive paths.

Brandon recognized the opening posture immediately—it was one of Madara’s Black Knights’ fundamental techniques. Detection confirmed his analysis: three potential angles of attack.

With a flick of his wrist, Brandon unleashed a gust of wind using White Crow Swordsmanship, sending a discarded steel blade spinning into the air before catching it deftly.

“Words mean nothing,” Brandon replied coolly. “Boasts may ring loud, but victory belongs to the stronger.”

Kabirus snorted derisively.

“Then let me test your elemental power, young human.” It moved, its potential attack routes narrowing from three to two, then from two to one—

Brandon was already there, standing precisely where the final route converged.

Kabirus froze.

…

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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