Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C35

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Chapter 35: Expansion (Part 16)

“?”

Brandon nodded.

“...Of course, if there are any skilled craftsmen in the city, keep an eye out,” he added, though not expecting much. Master builders were renowned figures in this era—Brandon doubted a backwater like harbored hidden experts.

This wasn’t fiction; Beru’s case was an exception.

Even Brandon felt a twinge of difficulty. Building a fortress—especially a large one—wasn’t a game. Resources didn’t magically deplete from warehouses, and fortresses didn’t appear with a “beep” in dense forests.

Clay and stone wouldn’t climb walls by themselves; even bricks needed to be made before reaching construction sites. Labor wasn’t just numbers—it took more than gathering people to avoid creating food-consuming black holes.

Coordinating manpower was a specialized skill—ensuring a hundred people worked as a hundred, not fifty or fewer. Though Brandon managed small groups well, scaling to thousands overwhelmed him.

This wasn’t battle; knowing each person’s role was crucial.

He considered top candidates—, Roland’s mountain dwarves, or Yhaggoroth’s hobgoblins—all masters of fortress-building.

However, the best weren’t always suitable. Besides Buga’s Craftsmen wizards, Brandon had no idea where to find mountain dwarves or hobgoblins.

Roland’s mountain dwarves lived far north beyond Saint Orlso, rarely seen in southern Eruin. Hill dwarves were common but excelled in brewing, not construction.

As for hobgoblins, they were noble underground dwellers—master builders and warriors. They wouldn’t endure the surface world’s hardships like Tagib.

The only accessible option was Buga’s Craftsmen wizards. But those white-bearded elders of the likely wouldn’t take Brandon seriously.

Those cunning beings might guess his identity as a transmigrator.

For now, he could only advise Antietta step-by-step. Short-term solutions were elusive, but future power increases might offer alternatives.

Thus, he concluded, “Proceed boldly. I trust your abilities.”

These words lit up the noblewoman’s eyes, and she nodded earnestly.

At that moment, a young voice called from outside, “I heard you calling, my lord?”

Cinnabar, leaning against a black pine, instinctively turned to see Chael entering—cloaked in black. Since the night of chaos, the young mage had rarely appeared publicly, seemingly immersed in his assigned room.

According to Chael, he was familiarizing himself with spells—a necessary transition from apprentice to Master Wizard.

Now, he appeared relaxed—even enthusiastic—finding the outside world more interesting than the graveyard.

“Why are you here?” Brandon asked, noticing Chael wasn’t alone. Behind him stood a familiar young man—an apprentice of Arcane Magic from the adventurers Brandon first met in Cold Fir City.

This young man had remained with the group post-Grudin’s defeat, puzzling Brandon. Hailing from gentry families, they had no need to mingle with mercenaries—a group Antietta labeled as rebels or bandits.

True bandit groups lacked individuals versed in noble rules.

Chael smiled, approaching respectfully. He bowed deeply—a gesture astonishing to outsiders. Addressing Brandon formally, “My lord.”

His actions startled the young man behind him.

The expressionless young man, clad in gray robes, finally showed surprise at this master-servant dynamic. Though Brandon was a gold-rank swordsman, Chael—a —held higher status, even surpassing nobility.

Antietta, accustomed to such scenes, ignored them. Metissa and Cinnabar, unfamiliar with human etiquette, remained calm.

“I’m here for money,” Chael joked, scratching his head—a sight making even Cinnabar twitch. “But first, I bring money.”

“Bring money?” Brandon puzzled.

“Let’s address the bad news first—I know you prefer it,” Chael quickly responded. “Your previous request—I believe it’s feasible.”

Brandon recalled asking Chael to form a council akin to the Tower of Stars and Moons. As the de facto leader of wizards in his territory, integrating the mercenaries’ apprentice wizards wasn’t impossible.

Though modest now, the vision was promising—not rivaling the Silver Alliance but at least matching the Black Tower.

The challenge lay in potential prohibitions regarding Chael’s Black Tower heritage. Mages guarded their knowledge fiercely; the Black Tower’s split from the Silver Alliance nearly sparked war.

Setting that aside, Chael’s mention of “bringing money” genuinely surprised Brandon.

What trick is he playing now? Brandon thought.

“Let’s discuss the second matter,” Brandon replied.

Chael smiled, reminding, “My lord, have you forgotten what’s in my custody?”

“What?” Brandon puzzled, until Chael retrieved a painting from his dimensional pouch—

“By Marsha’s grace, It’s .”

Antietta’s eyes widened, dropping her files, exclaiming softly.

She immediately suspected, “This isn’t a fake, is it?” Glancing between Chael and Brandon, she thought it plausible given their natures.

But Brandon shook his head, “It’s genuine.” He remembered now—it was stolen during their . Though unseemly then, it proved prescient.

Darkglow’s paintings could easily fetch millions in the collectors’ market—a sum sufficient for immediate needs.

However, Cold Fir City lacked buyers. Selling required the right place. Brandon already had a target: , Eruin’s sole free trade port.

Someone needed to visit Ampersal. Beyond establishing future trade relations for Cold Fir Barony, its intricate power dynamics attracted political adventurers.

With armies pressing in, Brandon imagined Ampersal bustling.

Thus, a confident smile spread across his face.

...

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