Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C14

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Chapter 14: The Battle for the Lumber Mill, Part 1

While the three leaders gathered their forces, sent a messenger into the slums to find a guide.

The ragged man, plucked from a shanty on the southern edge of Cold Fir City, was uneasy about serving this unfamiliar lord—rumors of the night’s chaos in the inner city had already reached him. Even Antietta’s attempts to suppress the truth couldn’t hide the enormity of what had transpired. But gold has a way of loosening tongues, and his wife’s pleading finally swayed him. After much hesitation, he agreed to join the expedition. A single gold coin—a sum he could scarcely dream of earning in a year of backbreaking labor—would allow him to apprentice his child to a workshop in the inner city. Perhaps, just perhaps, it would change the fate of his family.

Thus, when Brandon questioned him, the man answered carefully. “The forest to the south of Cold Fir City has long been known as Bearman Forest—not because it harbors those dreadful monstrosities, but because bears are plentiful there. Four lumber mills once stood within its depths. Three lie deep in the forest, now claimed by , while the fourth was abandoned after being sabotaged by workers.” He hesitated before continuing. “Baron Grudin once sent his private army to drive out the subterranean folk, but after suffering two crushing defeats, the baron ceased speaking of the matter entirely.”

Brandon nodded. This was precisely what he had expected.

By now, they had been traveling south for over an hour. The wilderness began to thicken with trees, the forest stretching east to west like a vast shadow looming before them. Young Brandon sat astride his horse, one hand gripping the reins as he watched the mercenaries fan out into the woods ahead. Their figures flickered between the towering black pines and before vanishing into the dappled shadows.

“Hmm,” a girl’s voice piped up behind Brandon, interrupting the guide’s account. “Are these cave dwellers truly so formidable?”

Brandon’s brow frowned involuntarily; he hadn’t even noticed Roma slipping into the group as they departed. “Why is she here?” he thought bitterly. “Wasn’t she supposed to be poring over ledgers and inventory lists?” His lips twitched slightly. “Who told her we were heading out to deal with the cave dwellers?”

“Indeed, my lady,” the guide hurriedly interjected, raising his voice. “I’ve heard the city guards speak of them—they resemble rats, though they lack eyes. They navigate by scent and sound, possess immense strength, and move with astonishing speed. An ordinary person stands no chance against them. Even Baron Grudin’s men needed two or three soldiers working together to take down a single cave dweller.”

Roma tapped her chin thoughtfully, her pale fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air as she imagined the creatures. “So, they’d have quite the advantage at night, wouldn’t they?” she murmured to herself.

“Exactly,” Antietta replied, glancing awkwardly at Roma. She was reluctant to admit that Roma’s feigned innocence had tricked her into revealing their plans. Whether Roma had stumbled upon the information by accident or orchestrated the entire encounter, Antietta couldn’t tell—and neither possibility sat well with her. “It’s not just at night, either. Even in this dimly lit forest, their advantages far outweigh ours. Unless you’re an Iron Rank soldier, spotting them before they spot you is nearly impossible.”

She turned to Brandon. “My lord, we’ve entered the forest. Shouldn’t we send out scouts?”

Brandon shook his head. He knew full well that cave dweller warriors boasted Strength scores of 15 and Agility scores of 10, placing them firmly in the upper tier of Iron Rank combatants. Ordinary mercenaries didn’t stand a chance. “To maintain Cold Fir City’s defenses, I’ve brought only four regiments with me. I don’t intend to split them further,” he said, his gaze fixed on the forest ahead. “Besides, who knows this forest better? Our mercenaries or the cave dwellers?”

As he spoke, Brandon unconsciously slipped into habits from . In the game, a regiment consisted of eighty players, so he was actually referring to around three hundred men. But Antietta, caught off guard by his phrasing, blinked in surprise. “Surely the cave dwellers know the forest better,” she stammered. “But… my lord, do you mean we won’t use scouts at all? I’ve never heard of an army abandoning reconnaissance entirely.”

She studied him for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her dark eyes. Then, more cautiously, she asked, “Do you have another method?”

“Something like that,” Brandon replied. With a subtle mental command, Wind Spirit Spiders began emerging from the ground, their green forms wreathed in miniature cyclones. The mercenaries startled at the sudden appearance of the creatures, but having witnessed their loyalty to Brandon during the battle against Madara’s undead horde, they quickly calmed. These spiders were allies, not threats. Still, the soldiers couldn’t help but glance toward the center of the group with a mix of awe and reverence.

In Eruin, commanding a Gold Rank wizard was a mark of prestige. Even powerful lords like Duke Anlek and Duke Karasu typically employed only two or three such mages as advisors. Yet Brandon, heir to a noble house, traveled with Chael—a Master Wizard of Gold Rank who had become the natural leader of Cold Fir City’s spellcasters. Moreover, rumors whispered that Brandon himself was a Gold Rank swordsman, accompanied by Metissa and Cinnabar, both formidable warriors in their own right.

Even Earl Jandel’s retinue lacked such overwhelming strength.

And then there was Metissa—the Silver Elf. For centuries, the Silver Elves had vanished from these lands, and their reappearance sent shockwaves through society. Tales of Brandon’s close ties to the enigmatic beings spread like wildfire among the mercenaries. Yuta, Frein, and Clenia, the three leaders under Brandon’s banner, found themselves increasingly unable to fathom the young lord’s depths. It was precisely this aura of mystery that convinced them to throw their lot in with him against the Jandel family. Otherwise, they might have preferred to flee into the , where at least some slim hope of survival remained.

Brandon was well aware of these rumors. He knew Roma and Antietta had deliberately seeded them, combining the former’s clever schemes with the latter’s meticulous planning. He saw no reason to deny the stories; they served his purposes perfectly. After all, this was how he had always operated—only now, his two young aides had picked up on his tactics.

Without a word, Brandon drew the Holy Sword card from his cloak. Moments later, the dragon cavalry that had once devastated Madara’s undead army materialized before the mercenaries. This marked only the second time Brandon had used the deck in public, and Yuta, Clenia, and Frein exchanged uneasy glances. Fifty units of Silver Rank offensive power—far beyond what anyone expected. Initially, they assumed the Wind Spirit Spiders were Brandon’s familiars, but now they realized they were witnessing a spell. Its potency defied easy classification, potentially rivaling even mid-tier Gold Rank abilities if wielded correctly.

By conventional standards, this spell ranked at least Gold Tier or higher. Yet everyone present knew Brandon was a swordsman—a Gold Rank swordsman, at that. And now, apparently, a summoner as well.

The implications were staggering.

With a wave of his hand, Brandon issued a silent command: “Circle the perimeter and eliminate all non-human life.” The cave dwellers undoubtedly maintained sentry posts along the forest’s edge, and Brandon intended to neutralize them. While he didn’t expect to remain undetected indefinitely, every moment gained was precious. As he watched the Wind Spirit Spiders ascend into the sky, trailing emerald streaks of light, he turned to see Tiger Finch withdrawing his gaze from the forest.

“My lord, how do you plan to fight this battle?” Tiger Finch asked, turning back to face Brandon. “If reports are accurate, there are over a thousand cave dwellers in the forest. Outnumbered and outmatched, I fail to see how victory is possible.”

“Don’t lose heart before the battle begins,” Cinnabar chimed in from behind. “Captain Tiger Finch.”

“Captain?” Tiger Finch blinked, then chuckled. “Does this mean you’ve decided to join us, Lady Cinnabar?”

The red-haired girl shrugged indifferently. “I’ve considered it. I have nowhere else to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Cinnabar smiled lightly. “Let’s hear what the lord has to say. I’m curious myself. Back when Macaro led the Gray Wolves Mercenary Company, our greatest triumph involved defeating an enemy twice our size—but they were nothing more than disorganized bandits. This situation is entirely different.”

“Yes,” Roma added, rocking precariously on her horse. Her small frame seemed perpetually on the verge of tumbling off. “Brandon, Brandon, you said the cave dwellers rely on scent and sound. Fighting at night would surely put us at a disadvantage, wouldn’t it? That means we’ll need to end this quickly!”

Her words drew the attention of the three mercenary commanders, who edged closer to the group. Brandon noted their movement with a faint smile. Though he had never barred them from joining his inner circle, the leaders instinctively regarded him with caution. Sensing this, Brandon had deliberately avoided reorganizing his mercenaries too hastily, fearing it might provoke resistance. Instead, he bided his time, allowing them to approach him when ready.

This confrontation with the cave dwellers was one such opportunity.

“A swift resolution isn’t so simple,” Clenia remarked, glancing at Brandon before addressing the group. “Though I’ve never faced cave dwellers, their ability to thwart Grudin speaks volumes. Let’s be honest: while our mercenaries are marginally better trained than Grudin’s private army, the difference is negligible. Moreover, our forces pale in comparison to the scale of Grudin’s past campaigns.”

“So what do we do?” Roma asked, wide-eyed.

“The lord intends to eliminate their sentries first,” Antietta observed, watching the last Wind Spirit Spider vanish into the forest. Turning to Brandon, she continued, “To buy time before they realize we’re here?” She paused. “My lord, are you planning a lightning strike on one of the lumber mills, drawing the cave dwellers into an attack?”

Brandon turned to her, admiration flickering in his brown eyes. Switching from offense to defense—it was exactly what he had in mind.

“A brilliant strategy,” Frein echoed, his tone matching Antietta’s respect. “But can it succeed?”

“The cave dwellers understand their strengths,” Brandon replied confidently. “If we strike during the day, they’ll counterattack at night. Under cover of darkness, they hold the advantage of timing, but we control the terrain. Those factors cancel each other out. What remains is morale, combat prowess, and the skill of our commanders.” His confidence masked the truth—he wasn’t particularly gifted in strategy. This tactic had been overused by countless players in Amber Sword during battles between Cruze and Yhaggoroth.

Though unfamiliar with the cave dwellers, he knew the playbook.

“But what if they don’t attack?” Cinnabar asked, puzzled.

“All the better,” Tiger Finch grinned. “Then we’ll strike during the day. However,” he added, turning serious, “assessing their numbers and strength remains a challenge, my lord.”

Brandon nodded, instructing the guide to lead the mercenaries around the abandoned mill and toward the nearest occupied lumber mill. Simultaneously, he gazed at the sun sinking slowly toward the western horizon. “That is indeed a challenge,” he admitted, “but I have a plan.”

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