Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C96

Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

Chapter 96: The Maiden’s Thread, Part 3

“A crude method?”

Chael had just entered the room when he caught Brandon muttering this cryptic phrase. Antietta and Metissa also overheard, though they didn’t understand why their lord was speaking to himself. Still, the meaning of his words was clear enough.

“My lord, do you mean you have a way to save Cinnabar?” Antietta was the first to ask.

Metissa hesitated, glancing back at the frail figure on the bed before retreating into silence.

But Brandon shook his head.

“There’s no good solution,” he said, breaking off his mental conversation with Otaris to address the others.

Chael visibly paused. “My lord, what do you mean?” The usually unreliable young man now carried an uncharacteristic seriousness.

“The tenacity of the blood of gods surpasses your imagination,” Brandon began, his gaze fixed on the motionless redhead. “It is not of this world, and worldly solutions are severely limited. Moreover, Cinnabar has already died once. Reversing life and death is taboo in this realm—were it not for the extraordinary energy of the blood of gods…”

He trailed off, but there was no need to finish. Everyone understood.

“So there’s truly no way?” Chael glanced at Cinnabar before turning back to Brandon.

“Seal her into a card.”

Neither Antietta nor Metissa showed much surprise at Brandon’s suggestion. One had witnessed him seal cards before, while the other had personally experienced it.

“But sealing someone into a card isn’t a perfect solution,” Brandon continued. “It merely preserves them in their current state as a summoned being.”

He paused, his tone softening. “And let’s not pretend it’s fair to the person being sealed.” He looked at Metissa, who quickly shook her head.

“My lord, it was my choice,” she said firmly.

“And what about Cinnabar?” Chael pressed.

“You should ask her directly,” Metissa replied. “I believe she wouldn’t refuse, my lord. You don’t fully understand her heart—”

Brandon fell silent. He wasn’t blind to Cinnabar’s dependence on him, though he couldn’t fathom why such a strong-willed girl seemed so unexpectedly vulnerable. But trust came with responsibility. Beneath the Shafrend mines, he’d promised her he wouldn’t abandon her—and he intended to keep that promise.

Still, sealing her into a card wasn’t without risks.

“I won’t resort to such a desperate measure unless absolutely necessary,” he finally said.

“Why not?” Antietta asked, puzzled.

“Sealing a Fate Card isn’t risk-free,” Chael interjected. “It preserves the subject’s exact state, turning them into a summoned entity. Even if we seal Cinnabar, there’s a high chance her consciousness will be overtaken by the blood of gods.”

“In which case, all our efforts would be for nothing.”

Brandon had discussed this with Chael before, so the young wizard understood the stakes better than anyone.

“But isn’t some chance better than none?” Antietta frowned. “My lord, we can’t simply do nothing!”

“Patience, Antietta,” Brandon chided gently. “No one here has said we’ll do nothing. We’re simply waiting until the last possible moment.”

“The last moment?” Antietta calmed slightly. “You mean there’s still hope?”

“I mentioned a crude method,” Brandon reminded her.

“A crude method?”

“The blood of gods always takes control of the body first before consuming the soul,” Brandon explained, glancing at the bedridden girl. “In the final stage, the host loses their strength because the blood of gods has fully taken over both its own power and the body’s inherent energy.”

Chael and Metissa listened intently, nodding along. As a wizard and a princess of the Silver Elves from a war-torn era, they were familiar with such arcane knowledge.

But Antietta was lost. Her extensive knowledge covered history, humanities, geography, and some aspects of magic—but little of this made sense to her.

“What does that mean?” she interrupted after a long pause.

“Simply put, Cinnabar originally possessed considerable strength, nearing silver-rank as a warrior. The blood of gods also brought immense power, granting her temporary gold-rank abilities upon infusion.”

“But that power is only lent to facilitate fusion with the body,” Brandon elaborated. “The blood of gods transfers part of its energy to the host, proportionate to the body’s capacity, then lies dormant while the host adapts to the new strength. This borrowed power carries the essence of the blood of gods.”

“Since this process occurs under the original soul’s guidance—in this case, Cinnabar’s—her body doesn’t reject it.”

Antietta frowned. “What if Cinnabar had chosen to resist?”

“Impossible,” Chael cut in. “She was already dead. Besides, few can resist such overwhelming power. Even if she succeeded, it would only result in mutual destruction.”

Antietta shivered as Brandon nodded in agreement. She’d heard terrifying tales of Treeminders and the Ouroboros Society but had dismissed them as mere legends. To her, those groups were no different from bandits or thieves outside city walls. But Chael and Brandon’s explanations painted a chillingly vivid picture.

“It’s monstrous,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Why would they do such things?”

Brandon shrugged. “No purpose. From what I know, they oppose all civilization.”

He waved dismissively. “Enough of that. Returning to the matter at hand: once Cinnabar’s body adapts to the infused power, the blood of gods awakens and reclaims it—first its own, then hers.”

“Finally, it consumes the life force itself,” Brandon’s voice grew somber. “When that’s depleted, the process is complete.”

“Cinnabar is now in this final stage.”

Antietta bit her lip. “Then what’s this crude method you spoke of?”

“It’s simple,” Brandon replied. “If the process ends only when life force is exhausted, the crude solution is to continuously replenish the depleted vitality.”

Antietta blinked, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes. “How do we do that, my lord?”

“The blood of gods converts energy at an incredible rate. If we translated that consumption into actual sustenance, Cinnabar would need to consume Tonygel’s entire annual output to keep up,” Chael calculated dryly, delivering a grim joke.

“That’s impossible,” Antietta stammered.

“Indeed. Another option is holy water—if we have enough.”

“We do have some reserves,” Antietta frowned. These vials, salvaged from Grudin’s private hoard, were meant for the next war. But for her companions, she’d make the sacrifice. “How much do we need?”

“At least thirteen hundred bottles of Number 7 holy water.”

“That… that much?” Antietta was stunned.

“And daily,” Chael added bluntly.

Antietta slumped, defeated. “So… after all this, there’s still no solution?”

This time, even Metissa nodded. She’d known from the start it was impractical, but she wondered why Brandon had brought it up now. Their lord wasn’t one for idle talk.

Just as the Silver Elf pondered this, a faint cough drew everyone’s attention. They turned to see the red-haired girl slowly opening her eyes, as if emerging from a nightmare.

…

Cinnabar felt drenched in sweat, her mind foggy as she struggled to regain awareness. Weakly turning her head, she gazed blankly at Brandon.

Who was he?

His face seemed both unfamiliar and deeply comforting. Then it clicked—he was her lord, the young man who had softly promised never to leave her behind.

That answer lingered in her memory, just as Macaro’s had years ago. Two similar choices, yet one came from a lord she’d known for mere months, the other from a man who’d been both father and mentor for over a decade.

Cinnabar felt a strange detachment. Lying there, devoid of strength, she sensed a shadowy demon lurking within her mind, ready to drag her into the abyss. She knew her condition better than ever—she was nearing the end, returning quietly to Marsha’s embrace, much like her arrival into this world.

Yet she felt no fear, only resignation. She was tired, ready to let go. Still, something kept her clinging to the last vestiges of consciousness, though she didn’t know why.

Then she saw Brandon, and understanding dawned.

Her weary eyes blinked, tears welling up. A single crystalline drop rolled down her cheek as she whispered, almost inaudibly, “My lord…”

Please rate or leave a review for this novel at

https://www.novelupdates.com/series/the-amber-sword/

If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.