Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C5

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Chapter 5: The Letter, Part 5

Brandon rose from his seat and walked over to Funiya, placing a gentle hand on her small shoulder. He patted it lightly, speaking in a warm and reassuring tone. "Funiya is a thoughtful child," he said, raising his gaze to meet the towering druid elder. "I consider her like my own sister, and thus I entrust her to you according to her wishes. Whether she becomes one of the Children of the Forest"—as druids were sometimes called in Vonder—"is not my concern. But I require your solemn promise to ensure her safety." He paused, his voice growing firmer. "Can you guarantee that?"

Andrew nodded without hesitation. "You need not ask, Lord Brandon."

"Thank you, Brandon," Funiya murmured, clutching the hem of her dress and looking up with wide, earnest eyes.

Brandon smiled faintly, brushing a hand across her forehead. Her sincerity and maturity were naturally endearing, but truthfully, Brandon wasn’t particularly concerned about her talk of forming an alliance between the druids and himself. It was clear Andrew had initially been reluctant, but with Valhalla now tied into their agreement, such cooperation seemed inevitable.

Turning back to Antietta, he instructed, "Antietta, take Funiya and prepare what she’ll need for the journey."

"Eh?" The noblewoman blinked, glancing at Andrew as if snapping out of deep thought. She looked at Brandon, puzzled. "Me?"

"Of course," Brandon replied. "Though Funiya is still a child, she’s also a girl. Only another woman would know what essentials to pack. Unless you’d prefer to leave it to Roma—" He chuckled, his tone shifting slightly. "But are you really willing to trust her with this task?"

Antietta thought of Roma’s carefree nature and imagined her stuffing Funiya’s tiny backpack full of the glass beads she cherished so much—each painstakingly acquired during her time in Buchi from passing merchants. She sighed involuntarily. "But... couldn’t Cinnabar handle it instead?"

"She’s not as meticulous as you," Brandon answered simply.

Antietta glanced at him, a small flicker of satisfaction warming her chest despite herself. Yet when she met his gaze, she sensed there might be more beneath the surface. After a moment’s consideration, she decided to ask outright. "Any other orders, Sir Brandon?"

"Notify Clenxia and have them come see me," Brandon replied.

Antietta nodded, then stepped forward to take Funiya’s small hand. Leading the little girl, who kept turning her head back every few steps, she exited the room and closed the door behind them. Once they were gone, only Brandon, the three druids, and the elf maiden—who stood quietly by his side, head bowed over her ledger—remained.

"What else do you wish of us, Lord Brandon?" Andrew asked, studying the ambitious young man before him. Though unfamiliar with worldly matters, the seasoned druid elder understood that Brandon dismissing Funiya wasn’t merely about preparing for her departure. "We druids don’t mince words, so speak plainly."

"I’m busy, so I won’t see you off on your journey," Brandon began. "There are things I must say. I know you view our alliance as something trivial—"

"Lord Brandon," Red interrupted sharply, furrowing his brow. But Brandon raised a hand, silencing him.

"Hear me out," Brandon continued. "I understand your stance toward the Black Forest and your covenant with Nyia—it’s part of your tradition. However, I have something else to share. The forces of Chaos are formidable."

"Are you a member of the Ouroboros Society? Silver Celestial Serpent? Treeminders, or perhaps followers of the Ram-headed faith?" Andrew’s voice chilled as his eyes narrowed.

"I expected you’d mention Treeminders first."

The druid elder snorted disdainfully.

"No," Brandon shook his head. "All those factions happen to be my enemies."

"But an enemy of our enemy isn’t necessarily a friend."

"Precisely," Brandon responded instantly. "Yet we both know this epoch nears its end—the era of the Magic Moon approaches. The last minor magical tide ended the Age of Chaos; no one knows what this cycle will bring. In such times, trying to suppress the growth of the Black Forest is nothing short of delusional."

"So what?"

"I know far more about the Black Forest than you do."

Andrew crossed his arms, eyeing Brandon with extreme skepticism. They were people who’d spent lifetimes entwined with the forest, yet here stood a stranger claiming greater knowledge. The notion felt absurd, almost laughably arrogant.

Brandon merely smiled. "Believe me or not—it doesn’t matter. Reflect on this: before the Age of Chaos, Vonder covered less than a quarter of its current size. Who carved out these vast territories, transforming thorny wilderness into civilized lands?"

"Druids," Andrew replied with a hint of pride.

Brandon shook his head again. "More accurately, the ancient druids of the World Ring. After the fall of the Tower of Babel, the Dragon of Darkness scattered the druids into the wilds, fracturing the World Ring into today’s Treeminders and orthodox druid sects." He paused. "You’re familiar with this history, yes?"

"The breadth of your knowledge is impressive, Lord Brandon."

"Not entirely," Brandon sighed deliberately. "Since the fall of Babel, a rift has formed between ancient and modern magic systems. Both wizards and druids seek remnants of the ancients. Coincidentally, I’ve encountered members of the dragonkin and gained some insight into druidic doctrines."

"You comprehend Ancient Magic?" Andrew’s gaze sharpened. He knew the only known Golden Remnants resided among the dragonkin, the sole practitioners of Arcane Magic from antiquity. While druidic spells relied on Rune Magic—a different yet equally mysterious path—profound knowledge often overlapped. If Brandon spoke thus, he surely implied something deeper.

To miss the subtext would make him a fool indeed.

"Auis eaam rs," Brandon enunciated slowly, syllable by syllable. "Have you heard of the Seed of Life?" He lifted his eyes. "I trust you grasp the significance of my words."

The three druids’ expressions shifted immediately. The Seed of Life referred to the seeds of the Elven Tree, which Treeminders often cultivated into Golden Magic Trees. These sacred trees were among the few capable of effectively converting areas of the Black Forest into fertile ground. However, the seeds were exceedingly rare, obtainable only through artificial cultivation or discovery within ancient ruins—themselves relics of the past.

They realized instantly: the phrase Brandon recited was a transmutation incantation. The core rune, 'Eaam,' symbolized the earth, likely linked to the ancient druidic language known as the 'Tongue of Nature.' Legends claimed it could purify entire swaths of the Black Forest, rescuing them from the taint of magic energy. Such spells hadn’t existed for over a millennium, surviving only in fragments of archaic texts. At best, the three druids might recognize connections between the chant and druidic lore.

Andrew regarded Brandon with a complex expression. "The Tongue of Nature?"

Brandon nodded.

"Lord Brandon, you wield this spell? Are you a druid?"

Brandon shook his head. Truthfully, the incantation wasn’t unfamiliar—it was inscribed on ancient tablets accessible to nearly every player in later stages of the game. Knowledge alone didn’t enable its use, as the spell required support from ancient artifacts, a fact that sparked countless wizard wars. Simply put, it was a tantalizing concept, beautiful in theory but practically useless.

Yet it served its purpose here.

As expected, Andrew frowned. "What does this mean?"

"In simple terms, I share an interest in the Black Forest," Brandon explained. "However, the stronger the forces of order grow, the fiercer resistance from Chaos becomes. Solitary efforts aren’t the optimal solution." As he spoke, he picked up a candle from the desk. "Druids traditionally approach problems through the lens of natural laws. Yet Lady Nyia has already illuminated another path."

"What path?" Andrew asked.

Brandon carefully trimmed the wick of the candle with scissors, then lit it. Raising his gaze, he answered, "The power of humanity." He tilted the candle, allowing molten wax to drip onto an envelope. "Since the Year of Chaos, aside from the limited 'Church-Frontier Knight' model, civilization has rarely expanded its guarded territories. Yet dwindling lands and encroaching magic energy have fueled internal conflicts—"

He paused, his tone shifting. "But I intend to forge a new paradigm to end this cycle. Even if it’s just an experiment." The young lord smiled faintly. "I’m confident. The question is whether you’re interested."

Andrew lowered his head, pondering deeply. "Speak plainly, Lord Brandon."

"My meaning," Brandon said, "is to transform Eruin into a vibrant, outward-expanding nation."

The three druids collectively drew sharp breaths. Andrew had anticipated Brandon’s ambition, but not its staggering scale. His goals transcended mere lordship; he sought to reshape the ancient kingdom—and perhaps even more.

An expansionist Eruin.

This youth aimed to build an empire with his own hands.

Such grand aspirations inspired awe in some, but unease in Andrew. He eyed Brandon warily. "Expansion breeds bloodshed and war, contradicting our beliefs," he murmured softly, careful not to provoke. "Thus, Lord Brandon, attempting to sway us with this vision is misguided."

"War is unavoidable," Brandon countered, setting the candle down and removing the Ring of the Wind Sovereign. "But for me, war is a means of protection. You misunderstand the nature of this expansion—"

"Wait—you mean?" Andrew interrupted, incredulous.

Brandon nodded solemnly. "The target of this expansion is the untamed wilds." He pressed the ring firmly into the wax, then lifted it. "With the nation’s strength, we will carve new frontiers from the wilderness."

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