Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C41

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Chapter 41: The Silver Mine, Part 2

"That’s harder to say," the innkeeper leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "But if you’ve got coin to spare, consider hiring one of the . Those fellows have scoured the forest countless times and even drawn maps of the area."

"Maps?" Brandon raised an eyebrow.

"Not cheap, mind you."

Brandon nodded thoughtfully, continuing to inquire about local conditions—worker schedules, patrol routines of the mine guards, and so on. He posed as an adventurer, while the innkeeper assumed him to be a reckless noble youth seeking amusement. Neither corrected the misunderstanding, and their conversation flowed smoothly. Gathering this information didn’t take long. After a short while, Brandon turned back toward his companions, who had already found seats in the hall. Just as he prepared to join them, however, someone blocked his path.

A dwarf stood before him, swaying slightly from drink.

"Excuse me," slurred , squinting through bleary eyes. He vaguely recognized the young man—he thought—as one of the earlier arrivals. But that wasn’t important. What mattered was why this stranger stood in his way.

The old dwarf shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

Brandon suppressed a wry smile. It was as though the road stretched wide enough for ten men, yet this stubborn dwarf insisted on claiming obstruction. Not wanting trouble, Brandon hesitated before stepping aside. But just then, something caught his eye.

Odum’s flushed face initially suggested he might be a common . Yet upon closer inspection, Brandon noticed the distinct grayish hue of his skin.

His heart skipped a beat.

Runic dwarves.

For a moment, Brandon wondered if he’d imagined it, nearly pinching his cheek to confirm whether he or the dwarf was truly drunk. Unlike the , weren’t prominently featured in . They hailed from the depths of , much like cave dwellers. But unlike other subterranean races, they were descendants of the ancient subterranean —a civilization believed to be wiped out in the wars before the end of the .

Legends claimed remnants of their kind still thrived beyond the , hidden beneath the earth. Regardless of truth, Brandon hadn’t expected to encounter a living runic dwarf here. Their pale gray skin was unmistakable—a trait unique among dwarvenkind.

These dwarves, hailing from the , were the master builders of the . Their architectural prowess earned them renown even amidst the chaos of their time, placing them on par with . Though their creations lay hidden beneath the earth, their legacy endured as a testament to their unparalleled skill and artistry.

Shaking off his initial shock, Brandon regained composure. Perhaps this was merely a stray descendant, bearing only traces of his heritage. Such wanderers existed across many races, carrying fragments of their ancestors’ legacy but little else. Some didn’t even know their origins.

Had Brandon not read descriptions of runic dwarves, he might not have recognized this drunken figure. As it was, Odum staggered past, disappearing into the crowd without a backward glance.

Brandon paused briefly, deciding against pursuing him immediately. There was no point engaging a tipsy elder, especially one employed locally. His primary goal was securing control of the silver mine; contacting the dwarf could wait until later. Still, curiosity lingered, prompting him to ask the innkeeper:

"Who was that?"

"Just an old fellow named Odum. He’s been around for a while," the innkeeper replied, puzzled by the nobleman’s interest in a scruffy dwarf. "He works as a minor overseer at the mine."

"What does he do?"

"Supervises laborers, nothing more."

"Any notable skills? Engineering or construction expertise?" Brandon pressed.

The innkeeper shook his head. "Not that I’ve heard."

"Huh. I thought all dwarves were master builders." Brandon chuckled lightly.

"Perhaps the mountain dwarves up north fit that description, sir," the man offered.

Brandon nodded, letting the matter drop, and returned to the table where the women sat. Approaching, he noticed Roma and Metissa exchanging quiet words, which ceased abruptly as they turned to greet him.

"What’s wrong?" Yuta asked.

"Nothing serious," Brandon replied, shaking his head. "But the news I gathered isn’t promising."

"How so?" Concern flickered in Yuta’s eyes. Of everyone present, she cared most about the mission's success after Brandon.

"We assumed workers commuted daily, but that’s incorrect. They’re only in town one day per week—from Monday morning till Saturday evening, they remain in the mines."

"Those in charge keep tight control over them."

"Precisely. Our chances of slipping in unnoticed are slim," Brandon explained.

"What’s the issue?" Cinnabar frowned.

"Two problems. Taking the mine isn’t hard—we eliminate the mid-tier gold-rank swordsman leading the guards. The rest are manageable. But doing so covertly, without alerting , is tricky."

"With you, me, and Princess Metissa, how can a single gold-ranked foe pose a challenge?" Cinnabar countered sharply.

"It’s not the fight itself—it’s the noise. You know how disruptive combat at that level can be. If anyone learns of an attack, word will spread quickly. Within days, Palas will know more than we do."

"Can’t we suppress the news?" Roma suggested.

"Palas isn’t a fool. Prolonged silence from would raise suspicions," Brandon countered. "Our best option is controlling the site discreetly, maintaining normal operations while secretly funneling silver to ."

Unspoken yet understood, these funds would fund private minting operations—a secret shared openly among regional lords. Before leaving, Brandon had tasked Chael with locating near Cold Fir City.

Technically treasonous acts, but as Brandon often quipped, “A condemned man doesn’t count his nooses.”

Cinnabar absorbed this, nodding slowly.

"Couldn’t we lure him out? Or strike when he leaves? Surely the human won’t stay underground forever," Metissa murmured softly.

"Possible, yes. But if he surfaces once a month, must we wait that long? No, we need proactive measures. At least infiltrate the mine to study their patterns. Eventually, our people must penetrate its defenses," Brandon reasoned.

Metissa nodded in agreement.

"So what’s the plan, my lord?" Yuta whispered.

"Hush. Don’t call me that here," Brandon glanced around cautiously. "I did uncover two useful pieces of information alongside the bad."

No interruptions followed, awaiting his elaboration.

"First, nearby adventurers may possess maps of the mine. This seems plausible—they often document such details."

"Yes, M… Young Master," Yuta corrected herself hastily under Brandon’s gaze. "Sometimes adventurers collaborate with . Nobles typically overlook such arrangements, knowing they cause minimal trouble."

"And the second piece of news?" Roma prompted curiously.

"Adventurers occasionally work shifts in the mine. Survival dictates flexibility."

Yuta blinked in surprise. "The nobility permits such troublemakers inside?"

"Why not? The mine needs labor. Weapons are forbidden entry, and miners cannot remove even a single ore fragment upon departure. Payment comes via trade within the mine. What harm can they cause?"

"Besides, this is an Earl’s domain. Who else would dare disrupt it?" Brandon countered quietly.

"Then couldn’t we blend in?" Cinnabar’s eyes lit up.

"You and the others can’t—the mine doesn’t accept women. Chaos would ensue otherwise," Brandon clarified.

They exchanged glances, recognizing the feasibility of the plan. Infiltrating as laborers would make observing guard routines straightforward.

But how exactly to proceed?

...

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