Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C103

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

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

Chapter 103: Tonygel and the Young Lord Part 3

The winter of the year the Black Rose War erupted was unusually bitter. The gray skies seemed to freeze the very air into powder, which drifted down in a ceaseless cascade.

Jelte had spent the night crouched in the bushes atop the mountain, nearly frozen solid. He reached out to catch some of the falling flakes in his palm. A faint chill touched his skin as the ice crystals melted on contact—it was snow. The young man, still clad in his ever-present apprentice robes of pale green, tilted his head to gaze at the overcast heavens.

The first snowfall of the year.

He couldn't help but recall the frequent discussions between Chael and their young lord about the situation in the north—the coalition of dukes, the fate of the princess…

"The war in the north has dragged on past the first snow," Jelte murmured to himself.

He was merely the scion of a minor gentry family from Karasu, another remote corner of the kingdom. Though technically noble-born, his horizons were limited; he'd only ever watched the great figures of society from afar. Still, life had been better than for most commoners—though recent years had grown increasingly harsh.

Jelte’s decision to leave home wasn’t driven by ambition alone. Like many young men of this chaotic age, he sought to change his destiny. Under the tutelage of a wizard mentor, he had studied magic systematically and gained glimpses of the wider world. This era of turmoil held an irresistible allure for someone like him.

Amidst chaos lay opportunity—or so it seemed.

After his mentor’s passing, Jelte embarked on the journey he’d long dreamed of. But fortune hadn’t favored him as much as he’d hoped. Two of the companions from similarly modest backgrounds succumbed to illness along the way, forcing the rest of them to rest briefly in Cold Fir before deciding whether to retreat or press onward.

But fate dealt him a crueler blow still. Grudin descended upon them, cutting down every one of his companions in cold blood. Stripped of all hope, his heart knew only despair. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than to remain behind and drag the noble butcher with him into death. Yet fate is capricious. That very night, he encountered the young lord, joined the ensuing battle, and found himself swept into the man’s service. Soon after, he became the first member of Chael’s fledgling wizard group.

As Chael’s second-in-command, Jelte occasionally sat in on conversations between Brandon and Chael. Of course, he rarely spoke up—the topics were far beyond his station. They discussed the northern front, the invasion of Brovento’s Black Rose forces, and Cruze.

The breadth of the young lord’s vision opened Jelte’s eyes to a world he’d never imagined. It surpassed anything his late mentor had ever shared with him.

In that moment, Jelte realized he might already be standing on the threshold of his dreams. Perhaps he’d even crossed it. From then on, he became one of Brandon’s most ardent supporters. When the mission to scout deep into Palas arose, Jelte volunteered without hesitation.

The reconnaissance team needed someone skilled in magic, and Jelte was the obvious choice. Chael had complained to Brandon that he’d "stolen" one of his capable right-handed men, but Jelte felt no regret. Rather than languishing in obscurity at Chael’s side, he chose action—a chance to prove himself.

Adventure called to him, just as it had when he left home.

Lost in thought, Jelte stared at the sky for a long while before snapping back to reality. He rubbed his hands together cautiously, careful not to draw attention from the sentries below. Below him stretched a forest dotted with grayish-yellow tents and bustling campsites.

A rustling sound came from behind him. One of his comrades was stationed there; any noise likely meant friendlies—but caution dictated considering other possibilities.

Jelte tensed immediately.

“Whi…te cab…bage…” came a peculiar password from the woods, reportedly coined by Chael himself.

Jelte relaxed. Friendlies. Turning slightly, he replied, “Parsnip—who goes there?”

“Melf.”

Jelte recognized the name instantly. Another apprentice mage from the same squad, previously known only by a nickname until the young lord bestowed him with a proper name.

Lucky dog, Jelte thought wryly.

“Jelte, well? Is that the camp of Palas down there?” Melf crept forward in his drab gray robes, crouching beside Jelte and whispering. “But Rat and the others said there’s no camp here—”

“It’s not the Palas camp,” Jelte shook his head firmly.

“Not?” Melf blinked in surprise.

“No.” Jelte shifted his stiff limbs slightly. “They’re mountain folk.”

“Mountain folk?”

“Aren’t they fighting against Palas?” Melf exclaimed, astonished. “What are they doing here? Planning an invasion? That’d be a stroke of luck for us!”

But Jelte shook his head again. “It’s not that simple. There are many factions among the mountain folk—they might be coming for us.”

“What?”

“You sure?”

“I’m certain. I know them better than you do. Now go relay this information to the reporting team. We’re pulling out. With the snow falling, we can’t stay hidden. We’ll need to change disguises soon.”

Melf nodded silently and slipped away.

…

“Mountain folk?”

The snowflakes grew denser as Brandon stepped out of the southern gate, nearly colliding with one of Chael’s hired elementalists. Brandon recognized the man immediately—one of Chael’s subordinates.

At Brandon’s request, Chael had assembled a group of spellcasters from among mercenaries and adventurers: amateur wizards, third-rate elementalists, charlatans, witch doctors, and countless apprentices. With Chael—a gold-rank wizard—as its figurehead, recruitment hadn’t been difficult. Many wizards voluntarily left their mercenary bands to join this so-called wizard corps, though it drew some grumbling from various mercenary captains. Backed by Brandon, however, the initiative faced little resistance.

Brandon understood the strategic advantage of concentrating casters, proven repeatedly in both player-driven and NPC-led wars. Chael often griped that these individuals hardly deserved the title “wizard corps,” dismissing them as a motley crew. But Brandon cared little for labels. To him, this was his first functioning wizard corps.

Among them were talents worth cultivating. Given proper training, they could form the backbone of a future wizard’s association. Unfortunately, Chael lacked experience mentoring apprentices, leaving the corps structurally weak.

Still, they weren’t entirely useless. Most possessed rudimentary magical ability and had apprenticed under mentors—if not formally trained—and some even hailed from prestigious academies. Their shared trait? Literacy.

Thus, Brandon, Antietta, Tiger Finch, and Chael often assigned them tasks involving intelligence gathering and clerical work. The elementalist now before him belonged to Tiger Finch’s nascent “intelligence department.”

“Yes, my lord,” the elementalist confirmed. “Chael instructed me to deliver urgent news. Our informants from ‘the north’ report something concerning the mountain folk.”

“The north?” Brandon paused, recalling that he’d tasked Tiger Finch and Retto with infiltrating Palas territory to gather intel on Earl Jandel’s troop movements.

Tiger Finch oversaw the operation, though Brandon was familiar with the details. Chael integrated his ragtag band of third-rate wizards and apprentices into scout teams disguised as wandering adventurers. Messages returned via animal couriers—a method Brandon personally suggested. While not groundbreaking, it dated back to the Year of the Burrowing Beast during the November Month War. Few considered deploying wizards to the front lines in this era, making the technique relatively obscure.

Yet since the onset of the Black Rose War, wizard talent surged alongside the coming Magic Tides, spreading the practice widely. By the war's later stages, it became highly refined. More stable alternatives emerged—like enchanted artifacts—but Brandon lacked such resources, reverting to this “primitive” approach.

With animal couriers, a single apprentice could transmit messages within a day’s range. Relay stations ensured rapid delivery, reducing delays from nearly a week to mere moments.

However, manpower remained scarce. Combining magical aptitude with scouting skills proved rare, limiting their network to just two or three effective teams. Monitoring Palas territories remained spotty, and Brandon hadn’t expected results so soon.

Evidently, the nobles still underestimated these “rabble.” While treating them seriously as wartime adversaries, Palas remained complacent otherwise.

This made sense. Despite Brandon’s limited numbers, his unconventional tactics rivaled Eruin’s regular army. Traditional soldiers like Palas struggled against such unorthodox strategies. Deploying wizards as frontline scouts? To noble sensibilities, it bordered on absurdity.

Only Brandon, accustomed to such practices, saw nothing unusual. Even Chael had balked at the idea initially, let alone the conservative Antietta.

…

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.