Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C59

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Chapter 59: , Part 10

chuckled. “You may not be able to escape now, but that might change once you’ve recovered. An old blade like yours remains sharp, and few could stop you once you’re back to full strength.” He left some thoughts unspoken. After all, Brandon couldn’t afford to leave two forces behind just to guard one man.

His nascent territory was in its most precarious phase, and every one of the four gold-rank powers—including himself—was indispensable. Brandon understood that his knowledge of this world would eventually attract capable hands, but this was no time for extravagance.

rested a hand on his sword but quickly withdrew it. The elder subtly sensed that the young man was intrigued by his proposal; otherwise, he wouldn’t have engaged in such lengthy discussion.

Without betraying his intent, Kulan asked, “Then what do you propose?”

Brandon paused, then spoke. “What’s the name of the scribe overseeing this mine?”

Kulan blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt shift in topic. He didn’t see how this related to their conversation but answered nonetheless. “.”

“Orkins of ?”

“You know him?” Kulan’s eyes narrowed as he instinctively discerned the other’s identity. This must be a young noble, for only those well-versed in aristocratic genealogies would recognize such names. While news-savvy denizens of the capital might know the names of prominent nobles, they’d likely be ignorant of provincial elites beyond .

Yet Orkins was the nephew-in-law of , occupying a similar rank to Grudin within . Brandon, of course, knew of him. Though obscure in this era, future generations of players would inevitably deal with these rising young nobles as the older generation faded away.

Brandon recalled that Orkins later became the lord of . Still, he hadn’t expected the man to currently serve as a scribe in . He realized that the silver mine was central to Earl Jandel’s interests, and perhaps this was where Orkins had earned the earl’s trust.

Internally, Brandon lamented that his actions would likely derail this promising young noble’s career. But adhering to the principle of self-preservation over camaraderie, he could only mentally mutter, Sorry about that.

“Heard he’s an average sort,” Brandon prodded indirectly.

“That’s quite the compliment,” Kulan quipped, raising an eyebrow. “But ‘average’ is too kind. Cowardly and inept would be more accurate.” He mocked mercilessly, still bitter about how Orkins had cost him a squad of men. “You nobles always sugarcoat things.”

With a challenging glance at Brandon, he awaited a response.

Brandon remained unfazed by the elder’s probing. Based on Kulan’s assessment of Orkins and his own understanding of the young scribe, Brandon deduced that Orkins would prioritize his career. He’d suppress any disturbances in the mine and avoid alerting , buying them ample time to find a route to the surface. Whether or not this aging swordmaster led the way mattered little to Brandon’s plans.

Still, contemplating Kulan, Brandon devised another approach. He wasn’t willing to return a gold-rank power to Jandel, but detaining the elder posed a challenge.

From Kulan’s demeanor, it seemed he wasn’t entirely loyal to Earl Jandel, or he wouldn’t be negotiating terms. Yet, the elder retained a knightly honor, making surrender unlikely, especially given Brandon’s current lack of leverage.

After deliberation, Brandon formulated a plan.

“We’ll trouble you to accompany us to temporarily. Once this period passes—in a month or half a year—I’ll release you.”

In Cold Fir City, Brandon could spare one or two gold-rank forces to guard the swordmaster.

“Half a year?” Kulan’s eyes narrowed. “If I’m absent from the mine for too long, suspicions will arise. Aren’t you worried about leaks?”

Brandon inwardly marveled at the elder’s cunning but had already anticipated this. “No need to worry. You sustained grave injuries during the quake, requiring recovery. Orkins will understand…”

He emphasized Orkins will understand pointedly.

Kulan sneered. He knew why Orkins would comply—if not willingly, Brandon’s threats would ensure cooperation. Imagining the spineless scribe cowering under duress, Kulan remained silent.

“It seems you’ve made up your mind. But how can I trust you’ll let me leave after a month—or half a year?”

“Why should I assure you?” Brandon countered.

Kulan faltered, glaring indignantly at the younger man.

“Since I’m inviting you to Cold Fir City, as long as you don’t act rashly, I won’t take unnecessary measures. No futile sacrifices. As a veteran of , you know life is precious. In war, the victors are those who survive.”

The elder grunted. “You seem well-informed. Are there veterans of that war among your elders?”

Brandon didn’t respond, merely meeting his gaze.

Kulan’s eyes flicked to the rings on Brandon’s fingers before he continued. “Judging by your actions, you intend to stay here long-term. But I must warn you: Earl Jandel won’t tolerate losing control of even the most barren territories, like . Are you prepared to face the wrath of a ‘king’?”

Outside Colcova Province, was effectively governed by thirteen ‘feudal lords’: six dukes, two marquises, and five privileged earls. Their power rivaled the royal family, earning them the jesting title of ‘kings beneath the throne.’

Among these ‘kings,’ the three strongest were , , and . The rest were relatively balanced, with Earl Jandel neither the strongest nor the weakest.

To Kulan, opposing such power made Brandon’s group akin to ants challenging a giant, liable to be crushed at any moment.

But Brandon merely smiled and shook his head. “You misunderstand two things. First, I’ve always known how Earl Jandel would react. Second, Tonygel isn’t the most barren land.”

Kulan studied him intently. “Confidence is admirable, but arrogance isn’t, young man.”

“I agree,” Brandon replied.

“Very well, think as you will.” Seeing persuasion was futile, Kulan ceased further argument. His hand returned to his sword. “I still require assurance. Assure me that, at least after three months, you’ll let me leave.”

“Will you promise not to return to Earl Jandel?”

“Sorry, I cannot promise that,” Kulan stated firmly.

Brandon admired the elder’s resolve but didn’t refuse this time. Smiling, he said, “Fine, I promise. Not half a year—just three months.”

Kulan was momentarily stunned, looking up at him in surprise.

Brandon smirked, offering no explanation.

With the agreement settled, Metissa had regained her strength as her soulfire reactivated. The group resumed their journey.

At this point, Brandon glanced at the miner trailing behind. Upon learning that Brandon and weren’t mine guards but rebels opposing Earl Jandel, the poor man had been terrified, nearly bolting.

But he quickly calmed down. Faced with immediate threats from lurking monsters, fleeing seemed less appealing. Reluctantly, he followed them.

However, when he approached Cinnabar, the red-haired girl’s feigned intimidation left him no choice but to agree to relocate his family to Cold Fir City, albeit with a despondent expression.

Through conversation, Brandon learned the man also possessed silversmith skills. Thus, he offered him an apprenticeship as a blacksmith—a safer and more lucrative position than mining. Though apprehensive, the man couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope.

Carrying these conflicting emotions, he noticed the group halting again.

This time, however, it wasn’t due to monsters or people—but the absence of a path. More precisely, everyone saw a massive, black door blocking the tunnel ahead.

Metissa and Cinnabar turned to Kulan, who had assured them this route led to the lift. Yet, the elderly swordmaster wore an expression of disbelief.

“What is this?” he murmured, bewildered.

“Isn’t this something you should explain?” Cinnabar frowned, her voice weak yet laced with suspicion.

“No, no, how is this possible?” Kulan muttered, furrowing his brow. Turning to Metissa, he requested, “Young lady, could you help me over to inspect this?”

Metissa glanced at Brandon, who nodded. He’d traversed this area before and knew Kulan hadn’t lied—this door shouldn’t exist.

He had a suspicion but needed confirmation.

Complying, the princess assisted the elder to the door. Kulan ran his hand over the cold, heavy surface, muttering, “How… how is this possible…”

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