Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C101

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Chapter 101: Tonygel and the Young Lord Part 1

The search for any connection with the Eruinthe Southern Legion had reached a dead end. The mercenaries sent toward the Graharl Mountains either disappeared without a trace or returned with useless tidings. Brandon knew better than to trust the reliability of those he had dispatched. Among the ragtag group of mercenaries, few were truly loyal—Frein, Clenxia, and Yuta each harbored their own ambitions, while many others simply drifted through life, doing just enough to scrape by.

Some of the men sent out never returned at all; they had fled the moment they were beyond sight. Brandon was not oblivious to this but chose not to enforce stricter measures—it would have been futile. Only those who stayed willingly, sharing in his hardships and hopes, could be trusted.

Still, Brandon was no fool to sit idly by as the shadow of war from Palas loomed ever darker over Tonygel. While sending trusted individuals through the treacherous passes of Shafrend to continue the futile hunt for the Eruinthe Southern Legion, he also ensured that the development of his territory proceeded without delay.

The repairs to the city walls were finally completed at the tail end of Frostfall Month, nearly a week behind schedule. The cost in materials far exceeded expectations, though the workers hired for the task benefited handsomely from the labor. At first, the project had been anything but smooth sailing.

No one wanted to work for this "unproven" young lord. Grudin’s lingering influence still weighed heavily on the minds of the common folk, and Earl Jandel’s name carried an even greater weight, like a mountain pressing down upon them. The initial policy of gentle persuasion quickly faltered. Even promises of material gain failed to overcome their fear—not only of the old nobility’s wrath but also of potential reprisals should they dare defy tradition.

It wasn’t long before Antietta realized the gravity of her mistake. Had it not been for the mercenaries stationed around Cold Fir City, or the fact that these peasants feared Brandon almost as much as they did the old regime, mass desertions would have begun already.

Understanding this, the noblewoman took drastic measures to rectify the situation. To ensure progress, she resorted to coercion, playing the role of what some might call “a noble’s enforcer.” Accompanied by armed guards, she personally marched into the outer city, rousing the wretched inhabitants from their hovels and forcing them to gather shivering in the square. Tools were distributed under the watchful eyes of soldiers, and the mercenaries oversaw their reluctant labor.

Though Antietta tried to minimize brutality, violence inevitably crept into the supervision. Whispers of the “Demon Lady” spread among the workers like wildfire. That day passed in a haze of resentment and half-hearted effort, punctuated by muttered curses against their overseers.

But attitudes shifted unexpectedly when the sun dipped below the horizon. To everyone's astonishment, the so-called Demon Lady provided a feast after the first day’s grueling work. The dinner included rare white bread and steaming bowls of stew—a luxury unimaginable to most.

Admittedly, the stew was more water than meat, clear as a mountain spring, earning a raised eyebrow from the refined lady herself. Yet it wasn’t due to stinginess; the meat came from hunts in the forest, which yielded little compared to the hundreds of hungry mouths needing sustenance.

Antietta braced herself for complaints, but instead, she witnessed something remarkable. For refugees accustomed to squalor, the aroma of stew alone was intoxicating. Their eyes gleamed brighter than the hungriest wolves in the wilds. White bread was a delicacy reserved for festivals, and meat? That was a once-a-year indulgence—if the lord felt generous enough to toss them scraps.

Clarity of broth mattered little to them now. Watching the workers devour their meals, Antietta reflected on her own folly. She recalled her days in Braggs, subsisting on stale black bread, dreaming of even the smallest taste of meat. Realizing this, she made a promise: so long as they remained on the job, every worker would receive such a meal daily.

The announcement sparked murmurs of disbelief, yet curiosity—and fear of the mercenaries—kept most workers rooted to the spot. Doubts vanished swiftly when the Demon Lady kept her word. Each evening brought a white loaf and a small bowl of stew, however meager.

This generosity drained the reserves of meat rapidly. The stores, once meant for Grudin and his retinue, dwindled alarmingly fast. Fleur voiced her concerns repeatedly, warning that at this rate, there’d be nothing left for Brandon upon his return.

For a moment, guilt tugged at Antietta. Between her revered young lord and mere laborers plucked from the dregs of society, the choice seemed obvious. But after much deliberation, she stood firm. She ordered the mercenaries to intensify their hunting efforts, suspending regular training sessions solely to replenish supplies.

Unexpectedly, this act endeared her further to the workers. News of her sacrifices reached them—the Demon Lady venturing into the forests to secure their dinners. Some even pleaded through intermediaries, urging her not to strain herself, assuring her that white bread alone sufficed.

Their concern touched Antietta deeply, but she used the opportunity wisely. She informed the workers that the provisions weren’t her doing—they were Brandon’s orders. Thus reassured, the workers redoubled their efforts, convinced they owed their newfound comfort to their benevolent young lord.

Unbeknownst to him, Brandon’s reputation soared among the lower classes. Meanwhile, Antietta marveled at her own success. With no prior experience governing lands, she had stumbled blindly through decisions based on fleeting discussions with Brandon during their travels. Yet here she stood, having achieved what many deemed impossible.

Less than a week later, inquiries trickled in via the mercenaries: was the young lord seeking additional hands? It was a sign—a fragile one, perhaps—but proof nonetheless that cracks were forming in the old nobility’s dominance. People were beginning to question where true power lay.

Despite these victories, delays plagued the project. Time lost early on proved insurmountable, compounded by their collective lack of expertise in construction. Beru’s arrival helped somewhat, though his mastery lay in crafting enchanted armor, not masonry. Relief came only with Odum, an elderly dwarf from Shafrend Mine, whose knowledge of engineering techniques surpassed theirs, albeit modestly.

Under Odum’s guidance, progress accelerated dramatically. By month’s end, the walls stood complete, their weathered stones rising defiantly against the misty chill of early winter.

On the morning of completion, Antietta summoned Brandon, Metissa, Chael, and the rest of the young lord’s inner circle. Standing alongside Cinnabar and Roma in the predawn fog, she gazed at the newly fortified walls shimmering faintly in the distance. A sigh escaped her lips, equal parts relief and exhaustion.

Turning to Brandon, she murmured softly, “Forgive me, my lord, for wasting so much time…”

Brandon glanced at her, admiration shining in his eyes. He remembered feeling fortunate in Braggs, discovering someone skilled in crafting magic energy conduits—a stroke of luck akin to finding gold on the roadside. But now, reflecting on everything Antietta had accomplished, he realized he possessed something far more precious.

Quiet though she may be, Antietta possessed a quiet resolve that inspired awe. What had he done to deserve such unwavering loyalty from someone so exceptional? Upon returning, he reviewed every detail of her efforts. Initially worried about how inexperienced she was, he braced himself for setbacks. He anticipated the repairs stretching into Dormant Month, perhaps delaying until after the first snowfall.

Instead, Antietta delivered a stunning triumph. Her meticulous nature had seen the task through ahead of his wildest expectations. Beru and Odum’s contributions pleased him too, despite the latter’s occasional hesitance.

Meeting her gaze, Brandon offered a small, approving smile.

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