Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C111

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

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

Chapter 111: Tonygel and the Young Lord Part 11

Palas believed he had seen through Brandon’s intentions. But this aged knight would never understand the true nature of the force opposing him across the forest. Just as Brandon knew every lord of Eruin—past, present, or future—whether they wielded immense power or lived in poverty, he knew them as intimately as the lines on his own palm.

From the Year of Blossoms and Summer Leaves onward to the dawn of the Second Era, Brandon had interacted with nearly every noble family in Eruin, great or small. Had Palas known that Brandon could recall his nickname from decades ago—a name even Palas himself had long forgotten—he might have reconsidered his strategy entirely.

But history does not indulge in “what ifs.”

When Brandon received the report in his study in Cold Fir City about Palas retreating back into his territory, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He tossed the intelligence, delivered by one of his “Ravens,” onto the desk. The term “Raven” was a nickname for his wizard scouts who used messenger birds to relay information, a moniker that had spread quickly among the troops.

“Pity,” Frein muttered after reviewing the report. The former cavalry captain shook his head in disappointment. “That old man is too cautious. If only he’d acted rashly, we’d already have won half this war.”

“To rely on the enemy’s mistakes is no sound strategy, Commander Frein,” Antietta interjected coolly. Standing beside Brandon, her tone carried an air of authority that none questioned. Over time, she had earned such respect within Brandon’s inner circle that even her sharp words felt natural, almost expected.

Frein merely smiled. “It’s just unfortunate, that’s all. With his retreat, we’re now facing a grueling battle ahead.”

“Not necessarily,” Brandon replied softly.

He understood Palas well—the knight’s caution tempered by an unyielding spirit. Brandon knew how Palas operated, what choices he would make, and what tactics he favored. This so-called intelligence was merely another trap Brandon had set. Whatever choice Palas made, it fell squarely within Brandon’s expectations.

Hearing this, Antietta glanced at Brandon’s back thoughtfully. She had known of his plan since Tagib departed. At first, his arrangement had seemed less like a tactic and more like prophecy. Yet here they were—his prediction proving eerily accurate.

Even Antietta found herself momentarily stunned, staring at Brandon’s silhouette in silence.

“Not necessarily?” Frein asked, puzzled.

“Palas graduated from the Royal Military Academy and fought in the November Wars. He’s a textbook example of an officer shaped by rigid doctrine,” Brandon explained. “Do you know what’s written in Cruzean on the main wall of the Royal Military Academy?”

“For both sides in war, the means of warfare serve to achieve one’s goals while preventing the enemy from achieving theirs.”

“That principle forms the core of Eruin’s military philosophy, revered by all academy-trained officers.”

Frein nodded, as did Clenxia and Metissa nearby. Frein, having served in the military, was familiar with the phrase. Clenxia, despite decades of self-taught experience, recognized its universal truth. As for Metissa, the Silver Elf princess needed no further explanation when it came to matters of war.

“So Palas is no different,” Antietta murmured, catching on. “Right, my lord?”

“Yes.”

Brandon continued, “Which is why I ordered the cave dwellers to harass, raid, and strike deep into Palas’s territory—to send him this message: We are desperate, fighting tooth and claw to break the deadlock before Jandel’s forces fully mobilize.”

“But isn’t that exactly our situation?” Frein asked.

“Indeed,” Brandon nodded. “But has there ever been such a foolish enemy—one who reveals their true state so openly, practically inviting a ‘critical strike’?”

Leaning casually against his high-backed chair, Brandon looked nothing like a proper lord. Antietta’s brow furrowed in disapproval, and Fleur’s expression darkened. Still, the young lord seemed in good spirits, tossing out gaming terminology without hesitation.

“Critical strike?”

“It’s an ancient term,” Brandon lied smoothly. “Meaning a devastating blow.”

Frein nodded, accepting the explanation.

“So it’s reverse psychology,” Metissa whispered. “If we appear eager for battle, he’ll naturally refuse us. But logically, enemies wouldn’t expose their weaknesses so blatantly—they’d disguise their true intentions.”

“Unless it’s a trap,” Frein added.

“What kind of message does this trap convey?” Clenxia asked.

“The enemy wants to delay,” Frein replied, slipping into Palas’s mindset. “So the way to counter that is to advance swiftly.”

“But what if it’s a double trap?” The discussion grew heated.

“In the end, there are only two options,” Antietta cut in, regaining her composure. “Either wait until Jandel’s forces gather, or strike immediately to resolve the matter decisively.”

But Metissa shook her head.

“Military analysis isn’t so simple. This isn’t rock-paper-scissors. Some things can’t be hidden—troop numbers, supplies, morale, weather, terrain, and potential reinforcements.”

“Two choices, combined with these factors, should give Palas enough to decide.”

“And don’t forget personality,” Brandon added.

“So where exactly is this trap you’ve set, my lord?” Frein asked, reminded by Metissa’s earlier insight.

According to the Silver Elf princess’s logic, hadn’t Palas already made the correct judgment? And indeed, the old knight appeared to have done just that. As Brandon predicted, they seemed desperate, seeking any chance to break the deadlock before Jandel’s full muster.

Yet Palas chose caution, waiting for reinforcements. Didn’t that mean they’d lost their best opportunity?

But Brandon shook his head and smiled. “The trap? I’ve already laid it, and you’re all caught in it without realizing.”

“What?”

Everyone was taken aback.

The young lord tapped his forehead. “The limitation of your thinking lies in accepting a binary problem I presented—one that trapped you in a vortex of choice. But remember, this is real war. There are countless possibilities, not just two paths. If you can’t escape this mental labyrinth, you’ll miss the third option.”

The room fell silent.

“A third path?” Frein frowned.

“If Palas advances, he’ll face a crushing blow, and we’ll break the deadlock outright,” Brandon explained. “But of course, he’s not foolish enough to do that—not even Grudin would make such a basic mistake. However, if he chooses to withdraw and delays the conflict until Spring Awakening, I welcome that too.”

Brandon shrugged. “What do we lack? Time.”

“But time may not work in our favor, my lord,” Antietta countered, her brow perpetually furrowed throughout the month.

Seeing her expression, Brandon teased, “Constant frowning will give you wrinkles, my dear advisor.”

The noblewoman shot him a glare. “Then I’ll hold you responsible, my lord.”

Brandon chuckled, finding satisfaction in loosening her tension slightly. “Relax. In the end, time will be on our side.”

He wasn’t bluffing. Since the druids returned to his domain, he suspected they’d uncovered news of Valhalla—a development consistent with historical accounts. His arrangements, including Tagib’s raids to delay Palas’s advance, aimed to prepare for this eventuality.

Only Brandon understood what Valhalla truly meant. Thus, he needed to delay the war until that legendary land fell under his control. After that, nothing else would matter.

With clarity, he surveyed his companions, whose expressions ranged from skepticism to muted trust. They at least knew one thing: their young lord never made empty boasts.

“But won’t the old man suspect something amiss?” Frein still felt uneasy.

“Did any of you?” Brandon countered.

“But that’s only temporary…”

“One moment decides everything. In war, the smallest details alter the outcome. A commander must avoid indecision, and changing strategies repeatedly is a cardinal sin.”

“Besides, once he decides to retreat today, he’ll soon find himself bogged down by Tagib’s incessant harassment. By the time he realizes his mistake, his mobilization will have slowed irreparably—and then it’ll be too late.”

“So he’s doomed either way?” Frein asked.

“I gave him a test with two answers, both crafted by me. How could he possibly win?” Brandon replied. “Sometimes, you need to shift perspectives. Following your opponent’s rhythm isn’t always wise.”

Brandon paused abruptly, sensing the sudden quiet. His subordinates stared at him with an odd mix of awe and bewilderment, as though they were gazing upon some mythical creature.

Feeling awkward, Brandon realized his methods weren’t particularly profound. They were merely leftovers from Enstallone’s playbook. During the Second Black Rose War, the Stygian Lord had humiliated Palas in much the same way. Brandon’s approach was little more than borrowed inspiration.

“So what now?” Frein asked. “What should we do?”

“Focus on your duties,” Brandon answered. “That’s the second point I wanted to address today. I’ll be leaving the domain shortly—likely for a month or longer.”

He clasped his hands together, fingers interlaced. “I expect this place to remain intact when I return.”

“You’re leaving again, my lord?” Antietta’s brow creased anew. “Shafrend?”

“A secret.”

The young lord pressed a finger to his lips.

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.