Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V2C160

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Chapter 160: The Planeswalker's War Part 4

Chael’s spell was finally complete.

A wall of light, woven from countless intricate lines, unfurled before Brandon. Black Knight, who had just arrived with his scythe trailing sparks along the surface, narrowed his golden eyes and immediately retreated. Even as he saw the barrier form, he knew his mission had failed. There was no way he could kill the young nobleman in such a short time—not when facing a Rule Wall crafted by a seventh-tier master wizard, let alone Brandon himself, who possessed Gold Rank strength. White had initially believed his speed would secure victory, but he hadn’t anticipated that Brandon would abandon all battlefield support to focus solely on restraining him.

Despite having so many guards around him, Brandon chose to prioritize his own safety over the larger battle. Such a decision suggested either an overwhelming fear of death or a terrifying level of foresight. Either way, Brandon’s gamble had paid off.

White raised his head, his burning golden eyes meeting Brandon’s calm hazel ones. For a fleeting moment, he felt as though he were staring at an old adversary—one he’d clashed with countless times.

And indeed, White wouldn’t understand—Brandon was that old adversary. They had fought dozens of times in the mountainous regions surrounding the Church Knight Order’s state during the Grace Era. Back then, White had already obtained the blood of the dread dragon, making him far more formidable than the current version standing here now. Yet Brandon’s knowledge and experience of White remained unchanged.

To Black Knight, this familiarity only deepened the strangeness of their encounter.

Withdrawing swiftly, White turned to retreat. Brandon immediately commanded, “Stop him!”

Among the Four Knights of Revelation, Black Knight—the Scale of War and Judge, White Tiamas Jyomir—though ranking lower in personal strength among the four, was undoubtedly the most brilliant military strategist. Brandon knew that it was White who orchestrated the strategy to capture Braggs during the Second Black Rose War. Allowing him to return to Madara and become a future thorn in Eruin’s side wasn’t something Brandon could tolerate. Capturing or eliminating him here would be akin to severing one of Targus’ arms. Without White, Madara’s undead forces in the south would pose significantly less pressure.

Not to mention, Brandon still had to contend with the wrath of Earl Jandel.

But upon hearing Brandon’s words, White couldn’t help but sneer. Leave him behind? Easier said than done. While he currently lacked the means to deal with Brandon, that was partly due to his need to maintain control over the crumbling noble forces. If he shed those concerns and focused solely on punishing the young human, White believed the outcome might still be uncertain. Still, despite being provoked, White chose to retreat fully—a sign of his intelligence as a commander. Knowing when to act and when to withdraw was essential for someone of his caliber.

In a single fluid motion, he slipped past Chael’s Stasis Domain, darted between the two radiant angels like a ghost, and narrowly avoided Cinnabar, who had pursued him onto the battlefield. The entire sequence unfolded within the span of a breath. By the time the red-haired halberd-wielding girl turned her head, Black Knight’s silhouette was already dozens of meters away.

“Damn it,” she muttered through gritted teeth, glaring in his direction.

Brandon shook his head.

Inside, he sighed in disappointment. “Tch.” He hadn’t expected failure. He’d hoped to provoke White into staying, but it seemed that since the First Black Rose War, White had grown as cold and calculating as ever. Brandon had assumed the younger, less mature version of White might be more impulsive, given his pride and relative inexperience.

“What a troublesome freak,” Brandon grumbled inwardly. “The design team behind Torrential Rain really doesn’t know how to make NPCs easier for players. Can’t they simplify things from the player’s perspective? Damn it.”

However, another thought quickly came to mind. Turning to Chael, he instructed, “Chael, find Clenxia. He might need your help. I’m worried White will take Grudin with him.”

“Clenxia?”

“A mercenary commander. He’s on our side now.”

“What should I do, my lord?”

“Are you the mage, or am I? Use your judgment,” Brandon replied. “Even Freya can become a Valkyrie. I trust you’ll manage just fine.”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing,” Brandon said solemnly. “I’m merely helping her plan out her life.”

“Understood,” Chael bowed deeply. “It’s an honor.”

“Go.” Brandon nodded. Just then, the red-haired girl limped toward them. As Chael passed her, he couldn’t resist remarking, “She looks just like Lady Freya. So, my lord, you have a type, don’t you?” His comment earned him a sharp glare. Cinnabar clenched her teeth, shot him a glance, and brushed past him to stand beside Brandon.

Brandon asked, “Cinnabar?”

Cinnabar blinked. “Hmm?”

Brandon studied her.

“I’m fine,” the red-haired girl wiped the blood from her face and answered casually. “But Metissa…”

“I know.” Brandon nodded. Fortunately, there was still some residual Light Element available. Saving Metissa wouldn’t be difficult.

Cinnabar glanced at the young lord.

She vaguely understood the relationship between the Silver Elf princess and this young man—it was peculiar, but she didn’t press further. As long as Metissa could be saved, that was all that mattered. Though Brandon hadn’t explicitly confirmed it, his expression conveyed the answer she sought. After all, Brandon wasn’t the kind of person who neglected his subordinates.

---

The tide of battle was shifting. In fact, the mercenaries had already breached the final line of defense outside the inner city.

After White’s retreat, he issued orders for the noble army to fall back into the inner city. However, he never anticipated that this very command would exacerbate the chaos on the battlefield. Accustomed to commanding undead armies, White understood human behavior but lacked the nuanced understanding of human nature possessed by seasoned human generals. When the mercenaries surged forward like a flood, overwhelming the scattered skeletal remnants, Grudin’s private forces lost all footing. Their morale was already shaky, and the order to retreat shattered their confidence entirely. Along five streets, the noble troops fled in disarray, routed like panicked livestock. This was only because Brandon, intending to herd them into the inner city, specifically ordered Tiger Finch to instruct Clenxia not to pursue annihilation. Otherwise, these once-arrogant noble soldiers would likely have been reduced to sobbing wrecks by now.

At this sight, Tiamas could only gape in disbelief.

When Black Knight mounted his nightmare steed, he witnessed the spectacle of the army’s collapse and couldn’t help but curse under his breath, “Fools.”

Yet curses wouldn’t change anything. White understood this. He looked up at the night sky, where glowing points cruised like sentinels, occasionally firing beams that eradicated the last pockets of resistance—remnants of noble troops or scattered undead squads. A flicker of interest crossed the undead general’s eyes. The surprises this young human kept delivering were greater than he’d imagined: a summoner?

Summoners didn’t employ such bizarre summoning techniques—or perhaps it was ancient magic. Before the era of the Dragon of Darkness, magical systems were vastly different from today’s. Take the ancient Arcane Magic used by dragons, which bore little resemblance to modern Arcane Magic. White’s golden eyes narrowed as he mused that if Lord Targus’s main force were here, wraiths and high-tier skeletal wizards could easily counter these aerial units. But he knew this was wishful thinking. Lord Enstallone had more critical missions in the southern territories, and the main force was tied down confronting the remnants of Eruin’s southern legion. It was impossible for reinforcements to arrive here.

He understood that Targus assigning him part of the Bone Spine Legion was already pushing limits. Still, White shook his head. That young human had cost him nearly ten percent of his forces in a single strike. Thankfully, they were only skeletal javelin throwers.

But declaring victory? That was far from simple.

The inner city still held several dozen defenders, mostly knights under Grudin’s employ, who could hold out for a while. However, the safest course of action now was to extract the baron himself. Whether they could endure until reinforcements arrived remained uncertain. Unwilling to risk it, White silently turned his gaze westward.

“Young human, our duel continues.”

Black Knight’s nightmare steed galloped past the fleeing troops, entering the inner city at top speed. His long cloak trailed behind him like a streak of black lightning as he crossed the drawbridge, issuing commands for the knights in the gatehouse to raise the bridge and seal the gates. He decisively abandoned any notion of reorganizing the stragglers. Not only did he doubt the young human would grant him the time, but he also refused to let them regroup outside the inner walls, lest it provide an opening for the enemy.

As for the fate of the humans outside? What did it matter to him?

However, when this Madaran undead general emerged atop the inner city walls clad in fresh armor, he found Brandon and his mercenaries already stationed below. Their speed exceeded even his expectations. The fleeing troops scattered along both sides of Cold Fir City’s fortress, offering no resistance whatsoever. Turning his head, he saw Grudin standing beside him in a silk robe, his complexion pale.

“Commander Tiamas?” the baron ventured hesitantly.

“This place won’t hold them,” Black Knight replied coldly after glancing downward. “If you want to survive, you’ll come with me.”

The baron froze.

“And my men?” he whispered.

“Do you think you can still save them?” Golden eyes beneath the metallic mask swept over him icily.

Grudin faltered.

Before he could respond, a collective gasp erupted nearby. Both men turned to see a young man in a robe adorned with three golden stripes emerge from the mercenaries. Holding a short wand, he extended it forward, and six golden rays stretched from the streets to the inner city’s walls.

Grudin blinked. But White growled, “That’s the archmage. Stop him!”

It was too late. Chael lowered his hand and declared, “Material Transmutation, Rule: Equivalent Exchange.”

“Iaz U?” The gem atop the wand glowed. (Ancient Tongue: What shall be exchanged?)

“Magic energy.”

The six golden lines shimmered, branching into countless threads that descended. Behind them, three massive stone bridges materialized out of thin air.

Silence reigned—

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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