Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C12

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Chapter 12: The Territory Part 6

Indeed, was correct— did not produce crystal mines.

To forge the , the final step required imprinting wind sacred insignias onto the armor’s key joints and chest plates to reduce its weight and enhance agility. For this, Eruin’s craftsmen typically used or —both high-purity magic energy crystals and primary materials for magic crystal balls. In Vonder, light amethyst was also known as moon quartz, a type of . Goran-Elsun, Anlek, Viero, and eastern Jandel were rich in such crystals, growing densely in caves formed by water erosion in mountainous and hilly regions. However, Tonygel lacked these natural conditions.

Even for Brandon, Tonygel remained an unfamiliar territory.

The drawbridge creaked as it lowered, chains scraping against the stone bricks with a harsh clatter. A sliver of light pierced through the dark archway, casting a bright stripe on the brick wall. Brandon sat motionless atop his horse, his hazel eyes reflecting the growing brilliance of the light behind him. His lips pressed tightly together as he watched the widening gap between the bridge and the gate, allowing more light to flood in and illuminate his surroundings.

Beyond lay the streets of . Aside from a brief speech to the surviving mercenaries and townsfolk after that night’s fierce battle, this was his first time observing the city from the perspective of its lord—a city now his, at least temporarily. , located in southern Tonygel, was directly governed by Grudin. Its main population centers were few: Cold Fir City, the mining town of Shafrend, the Gris Port to the east, and Grisford Crossing. The total population was around eighty thousand, with roughly thirty thousand residing in and around Cold Fir Castle. Villages like Green Village were not included in official counts, but Brandon estimated the region’s total population did not exceed one hundred thousand.

This was the most densely populated area in Tonygel, which itself housed about three hundred thousand people spread across its vast expanse.

Tonygel spanned approximately one hundred seventy knightly territories, though Grudin’s direct jurisdiction was not the only noble domain here. Most of the land was controlled by his vassals. Brandon knew Grudin had two closest confidants: Lord Minty and Lord Palas. Lord Palas, a knight himself, possessed upper-tier silver-rank strength and commanded the only regular army in the region. Known as “the Benevolent Knight” Saruf, his sobriquet stemmed from his strict and rigid adherence to chivalric codes, which contrasted sharply with the brutality of other local nobles. That such a man could coexist harmoniously with Grudin and earn his trust spoke volumes—Saruf’s unwavering loyalty to Grudin was the sole reason.

Thus, the first challenge Brandon faced would likely come from these two lords’ armies. They served as Earl Jandel’s scouts, and only by teaching them a lesson could Brandon force the Earl hiding in the shadows to tread more cautiously.

Their first objective was clear: instill fear in Grudin’s vassals during the upcoming battle.

The drawbridge groaned as it descended, revealing a brilliant blue sky beyond. Brandon tilted his head upward, gazing at the heavens. From Cold Fir Castle to the northern wastelands of Patton, the flat plains of Tonygel basked in the same radiant weather. This was the best season before winter’s arrival, with golden fields shimmering under the sun. Yet, after autumn’s harvest, temperatures would soon plummet.

Northern nobles were busy preparing for war, aiming to launch offensives before winter set in. Delaying would push the conflict into the following spring—a scenario neither Queen Anna nor Kluge desired, especially with Eruin’s “Lion-Dragon” fleet looming behind Colcova, poised to alter the balance at any moment.

Sifah’s Black Blade Legion had already reached the Lodal River line. The remaining task was to sway Ampersal’s Freeport merchants. If the queen’s top negotiators succeeded among those profit-driven traders, thousands of Sifah heavy infantry would cross the river and march straight to Flada’s borders—just as history once recorded.

Similarly, in southern Tonygel, tensions were rising due to Brandon’s presence. The scent of war mingled with the sweet aroma of harvest, tinged faintly with blood.

Time marched forward under the heavy, leaden skies.

“On the 17th day after the war began, according to the communication standards of this era, letters detailing the mercenaries’ rebellion should have reached Lord Minty at Minsburg Castle. The first knights are leaving that ash-gray fortress, dispersing to gather forces,” Brandon mused silently. For now, his control extended only to the area surrounding Cold Fir Castle, while knights from nearby estates had fled with news. “After initial preparations, Lord Minty might muster two or three thousand men—typical noble private armies, with less than twenty percent iron-rank soldiers. But even so, they outnumber our mercenaries, who barely reach a thousand.”

“Lord Minty likely assumes the mercenaries will either defend Cold Fir Castle or retreat into the forest.” However, Brandon’s ideal battlefield lay in the hills north of Grisford Crossing. When their forces would march depended on scout reports. He had already dispatched a small group of Rubis mercenaries to reconnoiter the area. In Cold Fir Barony, no one was better suited for espionage than these seasoned fighters—except perhaps the .

Brandon pondered all this, aware of how crucial this battle was to everyone involved.

It wasn’t just Lord Minty’s imminent sortie—a minor test compared to what loomed ahead. What truly troubled Brandon was the Earl of Jandel’s potential relentless pressure. He estimated having about a month to prepare—fortify defenses, organize the territory—but more importantly, to build confidence among the mercenaries. Though they currently stood with him, their alliance was fragile. Unless they believed he could offer them protection, their loyalty wouldn’t last.

Yuta, Clenxia, and Frein were no ordinary leaders. Brandon knew vague promises wouldn’t suffice; this battle would cement their trust.

Privately, Antietta agreed. This fight wasn’t merely about stabilizing their nascent coalition—it was also a declaration of Brandon’s legitimacy to Cold Fir Barony’s populace. If successful, it would slow the Earl’s advance, naturally swaying public sentiment in their favor.

The people needed not just a benevolent lord but also one who could protect them.

By now, the drawbridge was halfway down, revealing the terracotta rooftops of Cold Fir City in the distance. Tonygel, nestled along the western coast of the Dead Moon Inland Sea, benefited from abundant rainfall brought by sea winds. Consequently, residential roofs were steeply sloped, with drainage channels hanging from the eaves. New green vines cascaded from attic windows, contrasting beautifully with crimson tiles.

Light flooded the gatehouse, outlining Brandon’s figure on horseback. Behind him, the graceful curves of two maidens came into view. Cinnabar, weapon slung over her shoulder, stood tall atop her horse. Her amber eyes maintained a cool, protective demeanor, yet beneath lay a flicker of youthful anticipation. Having grown up amidst the southern forests with the Gray Wolves Mercenary Company, she found castle life stifling. As for the elven maiden, her emotions remained largely indifferent.

After briefly observing his companions, Brandon refocused his gaze ahead, his thoughts settling. The drawbridge continued lowering, revealing more of the outside scene. The streets were still being swept, but pedestrians had begun to appear. Most shops and workshops remained closed, yet sharp eyes noticed wary, suspicious gazes peeking from windows, scrutinizing the new lord whose legitimacy was questioned.

Though Brandon had ordered Antietta to revise tax policies, exempting most taxes and wiping out past debts, such measures, while appealing, raised doubts about their feasibility. Moreover, whether he could maintain his position remained uncertain.

With a thunderous crash, dust billowed as the drawbridge finally settled into place. Brandon chuckled inwardly, unperturbed by the crowd’s skepticism. Beyond the gate, Frein, Yuta, Clenxia, and Antietta awaited him.

“My lord.”

Seeing him approach, Clenxia, the silver-haired middle-aged man, bowed deeply. Having fought alongside Brandon, he understood the young lord’s capabilities. Though worried about Brandon’s ability to withstand the Jandel family—or whether he’d sacrifice them as scapegoats—his anxiety translated into exaggerated respect.

Yuta smirked slightly, impressed by Brandon’s unexpected affability today. Only Frein stood tall, expressionless.

“Do you know why I’ve summoned you?” Brandon asked.

All three shook their heads.

“My lord,” Clenxia replied respectfully, “whatever your command, we shall follow without hesitation.”

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