Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C42

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Chapter 42:

A bustling crowd gathered at the mine’s entrance. Workers and adventurers alike filed into the compound under the watchful eyes of a cavalry unit, forming three orderly columns to expedite the process. Brandon glanced at the map in his hand, committing its details to memory before folding the parchment and tucking it away.

He glanced ahead and noticed that over twenty mercenaries had successfully blended into the crowd. The cavalrymen stationed at the entrance seemed remarkably lax in their vigilance.

This was likely due to . Though occasionally suffered raids from bandit groups, these desperate souls rarely ventured deep into the mining district. Whether deterred by the reputation of or simply calculating the risks as unworthy, few dared disturb this region.

Brandon’s gaze drifted toward the lush mountain forest. He speculated that , , and might already have infiltrated the area. Even the least skilled among them possessed at least silver-rank strength, making it easy to evade the watchful eyes of the guards stationed on the towers. Meanwhile, remained behind in Shafrend, her safety assured by the presence of two celestial angels.

Just then, Brandon heard one of the cavalrymen shout hoarsely, his voice thick with a local accent, “Next!” Realizing it was his turn, Brandon quickly lowered his head and stepped forward. He half-expected a cursory search for weapons, if only for appearances’ sake. To his surprise, the silver-helmeted guard merely swept his gaze across the group, ensuring no visible arms were present, before waving them through without further inspection.

“Had I known it would be this effortless, perhaps Yuta and the others could’ve disguised themselves as men,” Brandon thought wryly, shaking his head. “And if the guards here are so negligent, it’s unlikely the gold-rank swordsman is much more vigilant.”

That realization came as a relief.

Beyond the checkpoint, surveillance grew even more relaxed. Brandon scanned the area, quickly spotting his disguised mercenaries among the throng. Their “disguise” amounted to simply leaving their weapons behind. Still, he refrained from approaching them immediately. While adventurers sometimes traveled in groups, a band of twenty-plus would undoubtedly raise suspicion.

Besides, they had established covert communication methods. No need to rush.

Though Brandon had completed countless missions in , infiltrating enemy territory in disguise was a novel experience. A thrill of tension mixed with excitement coursed through him. Yet, recalling his current status as a first-tier gold-ranked individual, he felt a measure of reassurance.

True, in the game, gold-rank warriors were everywhere, and those who had awakened their elemental affinity were a common sight. But this was still the . The had only just ignited the flames of conflict across the land. Few individuals under twenty possessed such power.

Glancing aside, Brandon observed the terrain, pretending to admire the scenery. Between Shafrend and the mines lay a narrow path winding through dense woodland. Occasionally, gaps in the trees revealed the rolling hills of stretching toward Tonygel—deep blue ridges against a green canvas, speckled with patches of foliage.

Pleasant to behold.

He raised his hand, studying the unfamiliar patterns etched into his palm, momentarily lost in thought. The journey thus far felt impossibly long, yet mere months had passed. It felt like only yesterday that he was still a nobody. Yet in just a few short months, he had gained companions, strength he could rely on, loyal subordinates, and even his own territory. Everything had unfolded just as he had always believed it would—step by step, he was taking control of a future he thought he knew, striving to alter the unknowable fate that tied him to this ancient kingdom. The great ship had already begun to turn. And now, it seemed, it was no longer drifting toward darkness—there was a glimmer of light on the horizon.

If only his senior could see him now. Brandon smiled inwardly.

A movement caught his eye—a corner of a watchtower peeking above the canopy. Soldiers in gleaming helmets patrolled, and similar towers dotted every hilltop.

"Compared to the cavaliers’ lax attitude outside, the defenses here are impressively tight," Brandon noted, cross-referencing the towers' positions with his map. The adventurers hadn’t lied. That map cost three thousand torr, but its accuracy justified the expense.

As Brandon focused intently, someone bumped into him from behind. Turning, he saw a youth staggering backward after their collision.

The boy likely hadn’t expected to collide with anyone—or rather, he hadn’t anticipated colliding with Brandon feeling like running into a mountain. Regaining balance after several stumbling steps, the youth pressed a hand to his chest, clearly startled. Looking up, he met Brandon’s gaze with wide eyes.

Realizing his mistake, he apologized sheepishly. "Sorry."

Brandon studied him. The boy wore typical adventurer garb—durable leather clothing, unremarkable except for its practicality.

"Since you’re apologizing, return what you took," Brandon said calmly.

He’d encountered pickpockets aplenty in Amber Sword. Even without his current prowess, he’d have caught the thief then. Now, as a genuine gold-ranked swordsman, his control over this body surpassed anything the game’s systems provided.

Surprise flashed across the boy’s face, followed by a grin. Without protest, he pulled out a pouch from beneath his shirt—it was Brandon’s money bag.

Brandon accepted the pouch, adding gravely, "Next time, be gentler. And choose your targets wisely."

The boy nodded vigorously but couldn’t resist asking, "Are you an adventurer? You don’t seem like one. Are you from out of town? But you know our rules pretty well."

Shaking his head, he continued, "I agree about picking the right mark. I didn’t expect you to be so sharp at such a young age. You’re quicker than —he’s always boasting..."

Brandon ignored the reference to Mahler, unused to such familiarity. After a pause, he replied, "I’ve traveled extensively. Thieves’ guilds operate similarly everywhere. Since you returned my money, there’s no need to escalate things. Nobody wants unnecessary trouble."

His words carried the weight of experience. Such insights might come naturally to a seasoned adventurer, but from someone so young, they seemed almost unnatural.

"People like you are troublesome," Brandon concluded.

The boy grinned, taking it as praise. Curious, he persisted, "You say you’ve been to many places. Impossible—you’re so young!"

Brandon smiled enigmatically, saying nothing.

Undeterred, the boy introduced himself, "I’m . And you?"

Receiving no reply, Joka shrugged, linking his hands behind his head. "So, is it true? Do really exist? What are they like?"

"They do what you lot do," Brandon replied curtly.

Joka raised an eyebrow. "I heard war’s brewing. True?"

Annoyed, Brandon countered, "Are you local? Why care about the outside world?" He recognized the boy’s accent as native.

Joka chuckled mysteriously. "Just curious. I’ll leave you be—for now."

Falling back, he disappeared into the crowd. But Brandon’s keen eyes tracked him joining a group of similarly aged youths. Focusing, he eavesdropped:

"Failed. That guy’s tough," Joka admitted.

"Tough? A kid like that? I can steal from the town’s adventurers easily. Maybe you’re just incompetent, Joka," another voice teased.