Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C107

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

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

Chapter 107: Tonygel and the Young Lord Part 7

"Young one," Otaris' voice suddenly echoed in Brandon's mind, "I've been meaning to ask—does that Silver Elf girl follow the Elven King’s lineage?"

"Lady Otaris, Metissa is indeed of royal blood. Why do you ask?" Brandon replied.

"Nothing significant. She reminds me of someone I once knew—a familiar face. Perhaps a descendant? Unlikely, but possible," Otaris mused before adding, "If she is of the royal line, then your earlier question isn’t as troublesome as it seems."

"Why not?"

"One of the relics of the Silver Folk—the Silver Elves—is their mastery of elemental conduits. The royal family undoubtedly possesses this knowledge." With that, Otaris fell silent.

Ah, so that was it. Brandon finally understood. Turning to Metissa with renewed curiosity, he asked, "Can you do it, Metissa?"

The Silver Elf princess nodded gently.

"Well, that settles one issue," Brandon said. This was one of the two most challenging aspects of constructing an elemental furnace. Solving it addressed at least half—if not more—of the problem. Still, he pressed on: "But how do we convert these fire elements into a continuous flame? Most alchemical arrays today are instantaneous, whereas an elemental furnace requires sustained activation."

"No solution?" Beru’s hopeful expression faltered. He sighed, "It doesn’t seem that difficult."

"It is," Brandon countered. "Such stability demands exceptionally robust arrays. However, there are alternatives. Reinforced arrays work, though they diminish output. Or we could use superior materials, albeit at higher cost."

He pondered briefly. Smaller furnaces could utilize reinforced arrays, while larger ones might justify the added expense. After all, costs would be recouped eventually. Though challenging, he recalled Tama, confident the Alchemist Master could handle it.

Shaking off the thought, he continued, "Well, having options is better than none. Now, onto the next issue: the magic energy conduit device and core?"

"I can arrange for some cores," Beru hesitated, speaking cautiously for the first time. "I still have acquaintances in Ampersal, Colcova, and Sifah. Perhaps they can assist—but don’t expect anything too large."

"Medium-sized will suffice," Brandon replied. As for the conduit device, Antietta possessed a rudimentary design that could likely serve their needs—it was rarer than the core itself, tightly controlled by royalty and high nobles.

Brandon glanced at Beru with newfound surprise. This was the first time the elder had volunteered his network—a testament to how enticing the project was. If harnessed, such connections could prove invaluable.

Venturing cautiously, Brandon asked, "Since you’re willing, why not ask them to send people over? You’ve mentioned a shortage of hands, Master Beru."

Beru shot him a glare. "You want to drag more souls into this mess? Fine for others, but don’t involve my contacts. They’re either loyalists or my students. I won’t see them dragged aboard a sinking ship."

"Not at all," Brandon persisted. "Whether loyalists or us, we’re all on the same vessel now, serving the princess, aren’t we?"

Beru grunted, skeptical but then recalled the incident where Brandon resonated with the Lionheart Sword. "I’ve pledged my service to you, young man. As for my students, I won’t dictate their choices—and forget about the loyalists."

"I’m not asking you to dictate anything, Master Beru," Brandon sighed dramatically. "I’m not forcing them into servitude. Just… lend a hand here and there. Adaptability is key."

"Think of it as ‘smuggling’ assistance—not so different, really. It’s all for the princess and restoring Eruin’s lost glory."

"Most importantly, we’ll compensate them fairly. No loss on your students’ part, Master Beru. A win-win situation."

As Brandon painted this grand vision, Cinnabar and Metissa exchanged amused glances. To them, the young lord resembled a devil tempting souls from the fiery depths—charming yet devious. Watching Beru, caught off guard and swayed by Brandon’s persuasion, they stifled laughter until the young lord shot them a warning glare to preserve the atmosphere.

Internally, Brandon chuckled at himself. A few years leading guilds in-game had honed his ability to sell dreams, though compared to corporate managers in his world, he was still an amateur. He imagined if those suited professionals came to this world, they’d swiftly build multinational enterprises—or perhaps religious organizations rivaling the Wind Sovereign’s Temple or the Temple of Flames.

Lost in these musings, Brandon continued promising Beru the moon. Finally, the elder craftsman seemed convinced, hesitating before asking, "Very well, Lord Brandon. What else do you need?"

"People," Brandon replied simply. "More people."

"People?" Beru nearly choked, staring at Brandon in disbelief. "You... you want me to engage in human trafficking? Have you gone mad? Such practices are forbidden in Eruin!"

His protest lacked conviction, however. Everyone knew underground black markets thrived on such illicit trades, a poorly kept secret among nobility. Yet, Beru had always viewed Brandon as above such corruption. Despite dismissing the young lord’s idealistic integrity, he admired it personally.

Brandon frowned, shaking his head. "What nonsense are you spouting? Human trafficking is vile. Master Beru, don’t bring the old nobility’s depravity to my lands."

Beru didn’t flinch, glaring back. "Isn’t this what you proposed? You spoke of needing people—what other means exist besides trafficking?"

"What I mean," Brandon clarified, "is something entirely different. Do you know of the Black Rose War?"

"The what?"

"That is..." Brandon hesitated, realizing the war hadn’t yet been officially named. "Ahem, I mean the recent conflict—"

"You mean Madara’s invasion?" Beru puzzled. "But what does that have to do with this so-called Black Rose War?"

Brandon flushed awkwardly, cursing the old man’s persistence. Before he could smooth things over, Cinnabar interjected softly, "I’ve heard Madara referred to as Brovento’s Black Rose. Perhaps that’s what the lord meant."

Beru’s eyes widened in understanding. "Ah, that makes sense. Historians might adopt the name. Go on, then."

Brandon resisted the urge to kiss Cinnabar—if only to avoid Roma’s wrath. Clearing his throat, he continued, "The Black Rose War appears to be Eruin’s largest conflict since the November Wars. But appearances deceive. Since the crown lost control over local lords, annual skirmishes have plunged this ancient kingdom into suffering for decades."

Brandon’s words resonated deeply; everyone present nodded somberly.

"Master Beru, do you know of the refugees currently in Minty?"

"Of course. Some under my employ came from their ranks." Beru paused, realization dawning. He stared at Brandon, astonished. "Lord Brandon... refugees?"

Brandon nodded. Years of war had displaced countless souls. These refugees either became serfs bound to powerful lords or wandered destitute, without food or shelter. While exact numbers eluded him, Brandon believed thousands across northern and southern Eruin endured such hardships.

Attracting them would be simple: a full meal, a promise of a better life, and safe passage to Tonygel.

Yet Beru, recovering from his initial shock, cautioned, "Lord Brandon, while refugees exist, many are elderly, infirm, women, or children. Able-bodied laborers are prized everywhere. Such opportunities rarely fall to us."

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.