Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C9

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Chapter 9: The Territory Part 3

“But I am a loyalist,” the old man shook his head. “Do you truly believe I would agree?” He lifted the waterskin in his hand. “Or do you think this small act of kindness will sway me?”

“, hear me out,” Brandon replied calmly. “Different actions carry different meanings depending on the times. Stubbornly refusing to adapt is a path to ruin. Surely, Lord Beru, you’ve already experienced the lessons of Duke Everton’s failure.”

The old man snorted softly. “Very well, young man. Explain yourself.”

“Less than two weeks ago, with Queen Anna’s support, the Crown Prince declared succession,” Brandon began. “Behind him stand not only House Sifah but also Marquis Kluge of Thistle Flower and his faction. Though you’ve been imprisoned for over three years, Lord Beru, you must surely recognize these names.”

Beru gasped. “How could Kluge have seized control of the kingdom? What are Lord Orville and the others doing?” He paused, his voice trembling. “And His Majesty?”

Brandon remained silent, simply meeting the old man’s gaze.

Beru faltered. His pale hair quivered, and the deep lines etched into his face seemed to deepen further. In an instant, he appeared ten years older. “How… how could this happen…” he murmured, his voice breaking. “All our efforts… wasted…” He trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. But true to his experience, he soon steadied himself. “Very well. Lord Orville is no ordinary man. Tell me, what has allowed Kluge, that clown, to seize such an opportunity?”

Brandon nodded, though inwardly he scoffed at the notion of Marquis Kluge being a mere clown. As one of Ouroboros’s core members, Kluge was anything but insignificant. Still, he recounted the events following the , framing the conflict in a way that few in could comprehend. At this moment, he was perhaps the only person who fully grasped the earth-shattering changes occurring in the neighboring dark land.

“You speak of Madara’s invasion?”

“Precisely.”

Beru’s complexion grew increasingly grim. Finally, he raised a trembling hand to interrupt. “So you’re saying all of this traces back to the you mentioned?” A flicker of sharpness gleamed in his cloudy eyes. “Are you telling me the Mercury Staff has reappeared? ?”

Brandon was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this master craftsman to be familiar with the artifact. After all, the legend of the Mercury Staff was scarcely known in the human world. Even in the game, players from Eruin and other human realms only pieced together its backstory and related quests in the second year.

“You know of the Mercury Staff?” Brandon asked, his tone tinged with surprise.

“Of course,” Beru replied.

He brushed the dust from his chest and rose unsteadily to his feet. Though shaky, he managed to straighten his frail frame. “I not only know of the Mercury Staff, but I also understand its origins—the story behind that legendary staff of darkness.”

“Oh?” A flicker of excitement sparked in Brandon’s eyes. The origins of the Mercury Staff were a mystery even within the game. All he knew was that it first appeared in Loki’s hands, then vanished into obscurity for countless ages before resurfacing in Madara, the land steeped in darkness. Its prior history—and whether it once belonged to a deity—remained unknown. To his delight, it seemed there was an unexpected plot twist here. Yet, how much did this master craftsman truly know?

“The Mercury Staff is not the only one of its kind.” Beru’s words froze Brandon in place, as if he had turned to stone.

“What?”

“It is part of a set of divine artifacts,” the craftsman explained calmly. “I always thought it was merely a legend, but now that you confirm the Mercury Staff’s reappearance, it seems this legend may be transforming into reality. And if that’s the case…” He paused, lifting his head to fix Brandon with an unexpectedly keen gaze. “The next artifact will be the .”

“The Rod of Flames?” Brandon blinked, confusion mounting. Despite his extensive knowledge from the game, he had never heard of such an item. Surely, an artifact of this caliber would have caused a stir upon its discovery, much like the Mercury Staff, which had been confirmed among players within a year despite Madara’s tight secrecy.

“Are you familiar with the legend of the ?” Beru asked.

“Naturally,” Brandon nodded. “King of Flames Geert, the Wind Sovereign Saint Orlso, High Priest Fainzan, and Sage Erlanta—I know them well.”

Beru’s eyes flickered, as if gazing across a millennium to the days of the Holy War. In a tone laced with nostalgia, he said, “To defeat the Dragon of Darkness, Geert, Saint Orlso, Fainzan, and Erlanta secured the ancient kings’ blessing.” He turned to Brandon. “This event is recorded in the Azure Poem of Cruzean’s creation epic. Surely you are aware?”

“The four ‘Hermits’ vanquished the ‘Emperor’ of darkness—” Brandon murmured reflexively. But he suddenly froze, a vision overtaking him. Beneath a luminous moon, a pitch-black tower stretched endlessly into the sky. He felt as though he stood on a vast plain, gazing up at the towering structure piercing the clouds, overwhelmed by its immensity. Shaking his head to dispel the image, he snapped back to reality.

“My lord?” Cinnabar whispered, noticing the fine beads of sweat glistening on Brandon’s forehead in the torchlight.

But Brandon shook his head, signaling he was fine. Taking a deep breath, he pushed aside his unease and asked, “I understand. What then?”

Beru studied him. “The four sages retrieved four divine artifacts from the ancient kings’ valleys. They are the Rod of Flames—.”

“Wait—”

Brandon interrupted with a low exclamation. “Odysseus? Isn’t that the full name of King of Flames Geert’s sword, the Flame Sword?” He glanced at the Ring of the Wind Sovereign on his finger, realization dawning. “So the Nine-Headed Hydra Ring of the Wind Sovereign, the Sacred Staff Oramisor, and the Sacred Spear Azure Sky—are all part of this set?”

Beru nodded.

The young lord fell silent for a moment. “How do you know all this, Lord Beru?”

The old man looked at him, his voice low. “Do you believe I can trust you?”

Brandon hesitated, then exhaled and nodded. “I understand. But Lord Beru, what of my earlier proposal?”

“Before that, I have a question,” Beru replied. “If you comprehend the significance of the Mercury Staff and Eruin’s precarious position, teetering on the edge of a cliff, what gives you confidence in restoring Eruin?”

“I have no confidence,” Brandon answered without hesitation. “But that’s irrelevant. You need only know this: after the Black Rose War, civil war in Eruin is imminent. I have chosen to side with House Colcova. Duke Anlek will soon declare support for the Crown Prince, leaving the princess in grave danger. I intend to aid her when the time comes. In that sense, you may call me a loyalist if you wish.”

Beru eyed him skeptically. “If that’s the case, why not join us? Don’t you understand the strength of numbers?”

“I’ve said it before,” Brandon replied. “I have my own principles and methods.”

“Forgive me, but I fail to understand,” Beru shook his head. “Every action has a motive. What is yours?”

“My motive?” The young lord smiled faintly. “My motive is simple: if I didn’t intend to act, why would I be here?”

The master craftsman frowned, puzzled by Brandon’s words—or perhaps by the deeper meaning hidden beneath them. He studied the young man carefully before speaking. “Even so, what would you have an old man like me do? If it serves House Colcova, I would gladly walk through fire. But regarding your private army, surely you don’t lack armorers like myself. From what I know, Cold Fir City alone has at least five professional workshops producing standard armor for lords. Surely such trivial matters wouldn’t trouble a ruler?”

Brandon sighed, exasperated by the stubborn old man. He couldn’t fathom why a decaying house like Colcova still commanded such loyal subjects. Still, he understood his own shallow roots and counted himself fortunate to currently align with the princess. “Lord Beru,” he said, shaking his head, “ordinary armor is easy enough to obtain. But the of Eruin—only royal craftsmen like yourself possess the knowledge to forge it, correct?”

“The White Lion Armor…” Beru stared at him, disbelief written across his face. “Eruin light infantry swordsmen—you intend to form a regular army regiment?”

Brandon nodded, but then his brow furrowed slightly.

He felt the Philosopher’s Stone in his pocket begin to vibrate once more.

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