Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C22

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Chapter 22: Expansion, Part 3

The sky gradually darkened as the spread across half the heavens. Wisps of cirrus clouds blazed like fire, transitioning from a golden line on the horizon to a deep purple overhead, then fading into an inky blue that stretched eastward into shadowy gloom.

Such celestial hues often foretold days of clear weather, and nature seemed to settle into quietude. Birdsong drifted through the woods, and the forest grew still as dusk enveloped it.

Cinnabar stood alone beside Brandon, her gaze reflecting the muted hues of twilight. She looked toward —the northern extension of the Kalanja Range encircling and forming the easternmost blade of Eruin’s southern frontier. Legends claimed this mountain was the source of the land’s wealth, its depths rich with treasures like . In just days, she’d heard whispers of vast veins beneath its surface, though only a fraction lay within Tonygel’s borders—enough for Grudin to squander lavishly.

To locals, the peak appeared sacred and silent, but to Cinnabar, it loomed like a slumbering beast. Its towering rocks shimmered faintly under the waning sunlight, yet shadows concealed secrets unknown.

Below, the lumber mill nestled amidst autumnal gold and crimson foliage resembled a small blotch against the vibrant canopy. From above, few were visible—but appearances deceived. These denizens of Yhaggoroth had hollowed out the mountain, their tunnels hidden within rocky crevices.

Entering the valley meant traversing areas heavily monitored by the cave dwellers.

Cinnabar turned back. Hours had passed since Brandon finalized the plan, yet they’d moved scarcely more than a few hundred feet along the valley—and even then, only after her persistent urging. For hours, Brandon remained motionless, offering no explanation beyond a cryptic smile.

"This guy..."

Outwardly calm, the red-haired girl kicked at the gnarled roots of a black pine, frustrated. Why linger if the plan was set? Whether it was “capture the leader” or assassination, waiting felt maddening.

She frowned, disliking the waste of time.

Glancing down, she saw another wave of cave dwellers emerging from underground—the second group. The first had already entered the forest. "Are they heading straight for or regrouping elsewhere?"

The vanguard numbered over a thousand. If they marched directly to the mill, they’d arrive earlier than anticipated. Could the mercenaries hold until late night?

She doubted it.

"I don’t know," Brandon replied succinctly.

He truly didn’t. He wasn’t a military genius, merely familiar with cave dweller behavior. Their decisions? Anyone’s guess.

"So, my lord, the sun is setting. Didn’t you say we’d act at dusk?"

Brandon blinked in surprise. "Did I say that?"

"Of course. You said..."

"Oh," Brandon interrupted, smiling. "I must’ve said it to ease your impatience."

Cinnabar’s amber eyes narrowed, revealing tiny fangs despite her otherwise composed demeanor.

"My apologies." Brandon grinned.

Silent now, Cinnabar faced forward. As Brandon’s subordinate, questioning him wasn’t her place. Still, his reticence today felt unusual—he usually explained himself.

But Brandon couldn’t explain. Within his constructed space, he horizontally placed , channeling six wealth points into his resources. Since his recent spending spree, his treasury had climbed to 98 points. Yet compared to what he’d expended, this trickle made his heart clench.

"You plan to go into their tunnels to find the chieftain?" He finally spoke. "Their network likely spans the entire mountain. Entering would mean months searching without success."

"But we can’t just wait forever," Cinnabar protested.

"Don’t worry. This is a small tribe—around three thousand. The chieftain is likely their . To face a human wizard, he’ll need to lead personally."

"How long will that take?"

“It depends on how cautious they are,” Brandon replied. “At the latest, it won’t be long after the moon rises.”

"Can they hold off the cave dwellers until then?" Cinnabar pressed.

"I trust ," Brandon replied, gazing upward. "I’ve given her solutions; now it’s up to the mercenaries to decide where they stand. But if things go awry, they have fallback options. Honestly, holding Horseshoe Herb Lumber Mill isn’t crucial. This skirmish was decided during the afternoon battle."

"What do you mean?"

"Wait and see." Brandon smiled faintly. "Victory isn’t my sole aim."

…

The moon soon ascended, casting its glow over the land.

At Horseshoe Herb Lumber Mill, the night air carried an eerie stillness. Yet seasoned mercenaries sensed unease. , patrolling the wooden walls, detected an unusual scent carried by the wind.

Cave dweller scouts might already be near.

Frowning, she instinctively raised a hand, fingers brushing her fiery red hair as she smoothed it back against the cooling breeze. Then, signaling below, she sent several mercenaries into the forest to investigate.

Her actions drew attention. Clenxia, commander of the Rose and Wine Mercenary Company, glanced briefly before resuming oversight of his men digging trenches—not fortifications, but precautions against subterranean attacks.

Frein, towering and silent, gestured for his troops to man the walls.

Order reigned among the mercenaries, easing Antietta’s concerns as she inspected the perimeter accompanied by twin wild elf sisters. Ascending the wooden ramparts, she approached Yuta bathed in moonlight.

"Anything amiss?" Antietta asked.

Yuta turned, unsurprised but unimpressed. Facing away, she answered, "Something stirs in the forest—cave dwellers or beasts. Scouts are investigating."

"Cave dwellers? Already?" Antietta masked her alarm. "So soon?"

"Possibly," Yuta emphasized.

"And if so?" Antietta steadied herself. "Does this indicate rapid mobilization? Can you gauge their coordination?"

Though well-read, Antietta valued firsthand experience, especially among veterans like Yuta. Adopting a humble tone, she posed her questions.

Yuta regarded her, finding the young noble less irritating than usual. Many nobles were similarly shrewd, so why not accept her earnestness?

"The battlefield shifts unpredictably," Yuta began, shaking her flame-like hair. "These could be remnants left to observe us or newly arrived scouts. The former suggests high tactical acumen, which I’d prefer avoiding. The latter implies superior coordination—an omen of tough battles ahead."

"And either way," Yuta added, "their scouts’ swift traversal of the forest speaks to exceptional individual prowess."

"Which scenario seems more likely, Commander Yuta?"

"Based on experience," Yuta replied, "the latter."

"Experience, huh?"

"Experience matters, Lady Antietta—especially when certainty eludes you. It’s intuition grounded deeper than knowledge." Yuta licked her lips, watching birds scatter from the forest—a sign mercenaries clashed with cave dwellers. Narrowing her eyes, she murmured, "It seems my suspicions were correct.. Your lord knows these creatures well."

"How so?" Antietta turned sharply.

"If scouts are here, the main force isn’t far. Timing suggests the attack will delay slightly, intensifying later tonight. That young man—pardon me, Lord—understands these underground foes thoroughly."

"He understands far more than that," Antietta murmured, gazing at the moon.

"Oh?"

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