Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C58

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Chapter 58: The King Beneath the Earth, Part 9

The subterranean world was cloaked in an endless shroud of darkness. The long tunnels were eerily silent, save for the occasional drip of groundwater seeping through the rock above and splashing onto the ground below—a sound that echoed faintly in the pitch-black depths, occurring only after long intervals.

After repelling waves of unwelcome visitors from the depths, , the , had no choice but to pause and rest. Though she was a ghost, it didn’t mean she was immune to fatigue. The activity of soulfire placed constraints on the mobility of undead beings. However, she had no need for light; within her pupils glowed a faint, spectral luminescence that allowed her to see far into the dark.

The princess did not sit, but leaned against the cavern wall with one hand resting on her spear. Surrounding her were fragments of , their broken bodies scattered across the ground and extending far into the distance.

Unlike , Metissa had been under attack almost since entering this level. She had fought her way here through sheer force. After a moment of silence, the Silver Elf princess addressed the darkness beyond:

“Is there a lift nearby?”

The darkness concealed more than just Metissa. A single set of breaths emanated from the other side of the mine tunnel.

“Yes.”

That voice responded.

But Metissa remained cautious. As soon as her words left her lips, her hand tightened around her spear, and she turned sharply toward the direction she had come from. Yet, before she could react further, her face lit up with joy as she exclaimed:

“My lord.”

It was indeed Brandon and who had arrived.

They raised their illumination crystals, casting beams of light in her direction. Seeing Metissa, they weren’t particularly surprised—they had traced her markers back to this point. When Brandon first suspected that the “formidable opponent” might be Metissa, he hadn’t been overly shocked. In these depths, the only individuals capable of such feats were either the Silver Elf princess, , or perhaps Yuta—but even Yuta lacked the skill to match what they’d seen.

However, when the light illuminated another figure sitting silently on the ground, both Brandon and Cinnabar froze momentarily.

“Metissa,” Brandon asked, “What happened?”

He stared at the disheveled Kulan, his mind struggling to reconcile the sight before him. The once-majestic elder now appeared battered and bloodied, his forehead, face, and blue-gray uniform smeared with gore, his gray hair unkempt and wild.

“Sir Kulan has been injured,” Metissa replied succinctly, leaving much unsaid but confident that Brandon would understand her meaning.

Kulan snorted. “A captive is a captive—no need to hide it. But this young lady saw some use in my old bones and struck a non-aggression pact with me.” He glanced sidelong at Brandon. “Though she holds you in high regard. She said the final decision rests with you. So speak—will you kill me or spare me?”

Though his tone was defiant, inwardly Kulan cursed the cunning of this elven girl. When the mine collapsed, everyone’s first instinct had been self-preservation—a natural reflex, even for those of gold-rank strength like himself. What Kulan hadn’t anticipated was that not everyone present was “alive.”

While others sought safety, Metissa launched an all-out assault during the chaos of falling rocks. It was reckless, bordering on suicidal, and even the steadfast Kulan had been momentarily stunned. Yet battles between gold-rank combatants were often decided in the blink of an eye. Though Kulan’s far surpassed Metissa’s, his earlier pursuit of Brandon had drained his vigor, and the sudden quake caught him off guard. One strike from Metissa left him grievously wounded.

If not for the girl dragging him out of the rubble, a proud gold-rank warrior like Kulan might have perished ignobly in the mine collapse.

Despite his humiliation, Kulan couldn’t help but admire Metissa’s audacity. In that situation, even he might not have dared to make the same choice. To be defeated by an enemy on the battlefield, regardless of circumstances, left no room for complaint for a seasoned soldier like Kulan.

Of course, had he known Metissa was merely a ghost, he might have bitterly regretted underestimating her.

Hearing Kulan’s explanation, Brandon nodded slightly. “An agreement?”

“Sir Kulan promised to guide me to you and help us return to the surface,” Metissa explained calmly, her tone measured and unhurried. Though speaking in , her words carried an almost melodic cadence akin to an elven lament. “My lord, there is a lift not far ahead, leading to the main tunnels of the third level. From there, numerous routes connect to the surface, and it’s unlikely they’ve all been blocked.”

She smiled faintly. “Without Sir Kulan’s assistance, I wouldn’t have found this place so quickly.”

Brandon recognized the lift she referred to—it was likely the one Koven and the others had used to descend. He remembered the scale of that tunnel well; it had boasted three wooden tracks.

Nodding, he glanced at Kulan. “And what are his terms?”

“Let him explain himself,” Metissa said.

Kulan shot Brandon another sidelong glance. “I know your intentions. As a prisoner, I have little say. Now that you’re here, you can take control of this place as planned. Within a month—or three at most—Palas won’t suspect a thing.”

He paused. “As for my condition, it’s simple. I don’t want to end up like Grudin.”

“He knows?” Brandon felt a jolt of surprise.

The uprising in couldn’t remain hidden, but few outside Brandon’s inner circle truly knew Grudin’s fate. While revolts in Eruin weren’t uncommon, it was rare for a powerful noble to perish during such events. Most assumed Grudin had escaped through secret passages. Only a handful of Brandon’s trusted associates knew the truth—that Grudin was dead.

Realizing this, Brandon regarded Kulan with newfound intensity. If word of Grudin’s death reached , the situation would escalate dramatically. Palas would march immediately, unwilling to give Tonygel time to resolve the matter internally.

Should the old fox sense any risk of losing this territory, he wouldn’t hesitate to send troops within two weeks.

Brandon had hoped to exploit the ambiguity of information to buy time. If Earl Jandel doubted whether Grudin was truly dead, he might allow the incompetent son to handle his own troubles. After all, nobles viewed rebellions as mere nuisances—Grudin still had loyal vassals, didn’t he?

But with Grudin dead, the revolt became outright rebellion. Though Brandon acknowledged his actions challenged the established order, he intended for Earl Jandel to realize this only after Minty and Palas had fallen. Until then, he needed at least a month or two.

Yet Kulan seemed to read his thoughts, offering a cryptic smile. “You needn’t worry. Rumors have spread, but seeing you here confirms my suspicions—the unrest in Cold Fir City wasn’t caused by mere rioters.”

Shaking his head, he added, “Still, I wonder if you're mad—or if I am. For nearly a century since the Year of the Lute, Eruin hasn’t seen rebellion.”

Brandon nodded thoughtfully.

The Year of the Lute marked the reign of the infamous , mockingly called the “.” This notorious ruler of Eruin’s history was one of the last monarchs of the . His nickname stemmed from organizing private armies to rob merchants passing through Eruin, whether domestic or foreign. Declaring all property on Eruin’s roads his, he demanded two-thirds of goods as tolls—a behavior akin to banditry that infuriated everyone except himself. After a mere three years on the throne, Blacksen I was deposed and became the only king in Eruin’s history to die at the hands of an angry mob.

His reign reflected the dire state of Eruin’s populace at the time. Outside of this era, Eruin’s darkest days coincided with its most frequent uprisings, revolts, and rebellions. Such occurrences were rare in Vonder’s historical records.

Perhaps this was the essence of the rise and fall of a nation’s power and its destined fate. While Madara rose through Eruin, Colcova’s dynasty experienced a resurgence, whereas Grifine’s reforms faltered despite better conditions.

But Brandon had no time for reflection. Shaking his head, he countered, “Your terms are too vague. We may coexist peacefully here, but how can I trust you not to flee and report us once we reach the surface?”

His reasoning wasn’t unfounded. With cave dwellers, he could have them swear an oath to their gods, but humans were perhaps the least devout creatures. Though they often invoked ’s name, even oaths made in her honor were seldom binding.

As a human himself, Brandon understood this all too well.

Kulan shrugged. “With these injuries, I can barely move, let alone escape.”

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