Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C17

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Chapter 17: The , Part 4

"The creatures I’m talking about stand over two meters tall when upright, covered in fur. Though distantly related to surface goblins, they are an anomaly—strong and robust. Even a newborn possesses strength comparable to that of an adult human," explained calmly. "When shield-wielding bear goblins protect as they dig tunnels below, they can be quite challenging."

He paused, then added, "However, cave dwellers often coexist with bear goblins. It’s possible this lumber mill houses both."

The group fell silent, their attention snapping back to the lumber mill across the river. The wooden gates creaked open once more, revealing another squad of cave dwellers followed by three hulking figures. These massive creatures carried large shields in one hand and flails with iron chains that rattled ominously in the other.

Bear goblins.

Though most present had never encountered such beings, Brandon's earlier description allowed them to identify these new arrivals instantly. Standing over two meters tall, covered in brown fur, their heads seemingly tucked into broad shoulders, each wielded a shield and flail just as Brandon had described.

Everyone turned to look at the young lord with newfound admiration.

Yuta remained unusually quiet, her gaze lingering on Brandon as though trying to uncover some hidden depth.

"I’ve seen those before," Frein muttered, his eyes fixed on the monsters crossing the river. "Once, in , we fought one. Even a dozen soldiers couldn’t get close to it." His dark complexion paled slightly. "My lord, are you certain these belong to the first-tier units?"

Brandon nodded. "The military classifications were originally devised by the Four Temples, based not solely on individual combat prowess. Bear goblins aren’t particularly intelligent, and their symbiosis with cave dwellers limits their numbers. If not for cave dwellers forming the backbone of Joggindigin’s armies—and bear goblins developing fixed tactics alongside them—these brutes might never have been classified as first-tier."

Frein nodded silently, saying nothing further.

At this moment, the cave dwellers and three bear goblins were wading through the center of the riverbank. The forest-edge cave dwellers had retreated but still surrounded Mafeli and his companions, creating an eerie silence. The balance of power on the battlefield hung precariously.

The cave dwellers launched a second assault, but something felt off immediately.

On the earthen fortress, the two crossbowmen discarded their heavy crossbows and drew longswords from their backs—gleaming silver blades etched with peculiar patterns that shimmered in the sunlight.

"!" someone whispered among the mercenaries.

These weren’t the low-grade alchemical trinkets most could afford; they were genuine magic swords—bronze-grade or higher artifacts capable of altering the balance of power between wielder and foe.

"Whose men are those?" The captains' gazes instinctively shifted to Yuta, Frein, and Clenia—the only leaders who could field such an elite team.

Yet even these three leaders exchanged puzzled glances. Those weren’t their people.

If the revelation shocked them, what came next left them breathless. Two flashes of white light erupted from the fortress, and two cave dwellers leaping onto the walls were cleanly bisected. This was peak Iron Rank strength verging on —a level few mercenaries could match. Among those assembled, only the three leaders possessed such skill.

"Who are they?" Yuta finally asked, turning to Clenia. "Your men?"

Clenia, however, was too preoccupied to respond. His face paled as he recognized the swords—the same holy swords wielded by the two Archangels of Sanctity who had accompanied Brandon that night. Only now did he understand why Frein had so readily sent his best wizard as bait. With two Silver Rank warriors guarding them, what could possibly go wrong?

But while Clenia understood, others did not. The forest fell eerily silent, save for the sharp intake of breath from those watching.

Brandon said nothing, his gaze steady as the cave dwellers faltered under renewed attacks. From behind, the first bear goblin charged forward, swinging its flail with a thunderous roar. It struck the magical fortress, shattering it into pieces. Everyone watched as the two disguised crossbowmen leapt high into the air—one grabbing the wizard, the other the warrior—and rolled backward to safety.

The cave dwellers shrieked in excitement, preparing to press their advantage.

But then, a sharp whistle pierced the air. A cavalry unit of over fifty riders burst from the forest flank, led by none other than of and several smaller mercenary bands.

"My lord, is this…" Frein suddenly realized Brandon’s intent. By gradually reinforcing the battlefield rather than committing all forces at once, he aimed to lure the cave dwellers deeper into the trap—a slow boil tactic.

"This was Tiger Finch’s idea," Brandon replied, his eyes gleaming as he watched the riverbank. "The key lies in their unwillingness to abandon deployed troops. Underground denizens often exhibit this flaw in strategy. Whether or player, habit becomes nature. After all, every life is precious in …"

In truth, Brandon had known Tiger Finch’s plan would succeed—it mirrored strategies players used to exploit underground psychology perfectly. Watching his controlled archangels and their ‘companions’ feign relief upon seeing reinforcements amused him. Perhaps he was being a bit too cunning.

"NPC? ?" Frein asked.

Brandon cleared his throat. "Look ahead."

The three leaders turned simultaneously. The lumber mill’s gates creaked open again—not one, but three entrances on the east, west, and south sides. An endless stream of cave dwellers poured out from behind towering wooden fences. Clenia counted quickly, nearly gasping—over two hundred. His earlier estimate had been far too low.

This meant the camp might hold over three hundred cave dwellers. By ’s grace, how were they supposed to fight this?

He glanced at Brandon, his face pale.

But Brandon merely watched the black tide of cave dwellers wade across the river. Their goal was clear: rescue their vanguard before the human cavalry could regroup.

Speed was indeed their advantage.

And Brandon had waited precisely for this moment. Ignoring the grim expressions of the three leaders, he raised his hand. "Ready your crossbows."

Everyone froze. The sea of cave dwellers and advancing bear goblins seemed overwhelming. Wasn’t it too early to prepare? Yet no one dared defy a noble lord like Brandon, whose authority and strength commanded respect—even if reluctantly—from the three leaders.

With no objections from the largest mercenary groups, others followed suit. Crossbows were drawn slowly to avoid alerting the keen-eared cave dwellers. The forest rustled faintly, like a breeze brushing against leaves.

"Level them," Brandon commanded softly as the last crossbow was readied.

Timing was perfect. The goblins and cave dwellers were just emerging from the water. This precise prediction startled every captain present. Clenia, the most perceptive of the three leaders, looked at Brandon in astonishment. How could he know his mercenaries so well without ever commanding them directly?

Brandon inwardly smirked. In , mercenaries shared similar capabilities and habits. His judgment stemmed from years of gaming experience—he had made such predictions countless times before. Whether facing bear goblins, cave dwellers, or even faster wind elf cavalry, he always ensured his forces struck first.

Now, every mercenary leveled their heavy crossbows—or at least a bow. No mercenary went without ranged weapons; bows, firearms, or crossbows were standard issue.

Each crossbow targeted its mark, but doubt lingered. Could this barrage truly make a difference?

They recalled Brandon’s earlier claim: This is just a warm-up.

Was there such a thing as a warm-up like this?

Brandon didn’t answer. He waited two seconds, then snapped his fingers.

"Fire."

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