Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C117

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Chapter 117: The Alchemist's Treasure Trove, Part 1

Travel often begins in the liminal space between anticipation and unease. Before you know it, you're already knee-deep in the journey itself.

The Tower People have a saying: "The toil of a long trek erodes even the grandest ambitions." This wandering folk, known for their merchants and adventurers, understood the burdens of travel better than most.

In the blink of an eye, Brandon and his group had been within the Black Forest for a week.

Kulan had initially suggested camping at the forest’s edge overnight before venturing deeper, but Brandon dismissed the idea. They didn’t have time to waste, and besides, he knew the Black Forest far better than Kulan did. There was no sense in delaying their progress unnecessarily.

Deep within the forest, the canopy resembled layers of emerald clouds, propped up by countless black trunks stretching endlessly toward the sky. Shafts of light pierced through gaps in the foliage, bathing the surroundings in a soft green glow while casting the shadows into near-blackness. Dust motes danced in the beams of light, scattering across gnarled roots that twisted like ancient serpents. Beneath the roots lay tranquil pools of jade-green water, undisturbed save for the occasional ripple caused by a water spider gliding across the surface.

The interplay of light and shadow created a scene both serene and surreal. Yet, despite its beauty, dusk was fast approaching. Brandon sat with a notebook open in front of him, its pages filled with entries written in glowing ink:

- Dark Mage: A symbol of mystery in witchcraft languages, used to extract meditative states. A third-level alchemical process yields "Breath of Calm," a key ingredient in meditation incense.

Meditation incense was a highly sought-after commodity in Amber Sword. For those practicing mystical professions, it significantly enhanced their practice efficiency, allowing them to achieve twice the results with half the effort. When used in a quiet chamber filled with swirling clouds of fragrant smoke, practitioners found it easier to attune themselves to the intangible and mysterious forces that governed their craft.

This effect was especially pronounced in the practice of spirit-binding spells. In gameplay terms, this translated to a 5% increase in experience gain—a notable boost for players and characters alike.

With Level 7 Alchemy, one could extract the lowest-grade Grade 2 material in Amber Sword: Essence of Mystery. This substance could be consumed directly to grant a single point of bloodline enhancement. However, its effects were limited to a one-time use per individual, making it a valuable but finite resource.

- Moonflower: The mage's bloom, brimming with magic energy. Chewing it raw restores about one mana point, but extracting its essence via fifth-level alchemy produces Pure Magic Water—the base for beginner mana potions.

- Four-Leaf Clover: A rare find outside the Black Forest but abundant here. Used in nearly all potion-making to increase success rates. With an advanced technique, eighth-level alchemy can refine it into Essence of Luck, applicable to any craft, including forging and ritual circles.

- Witch’s Bane: Often dismissed as a cheap poison favored by scheming nobles, this plant holds darker significance. Cultists use it as a dual-element component—"Suffering and Venom"—to summon beings from lower planes, such as the Demon Lord of Torment or the Malevolent Queen of the Blazing Purgatory. It’s strictly forbidden by the Temple of Flames, yet those who truly understand its value are willing to pay exorbitant prices—or resort to murder—to obtain it.

These notes chronicled the efforts of the forty-some young recruits over the past week. In truth, during the first three days of their expedition, they’d returned empty-handed and complained bitterly. But Brandon hadn’t brought them here for leisure. Any sign of laziness or negligence was met with merciless lashes from the mercenaries' whips, driving the youths forward without mercy.

Each dawn, the recruits were roused by the mercenaries. Many had struggled to sleep amidst the damp cold of the forest, tossing and turning until exhaustion finally claimed them. Yet, regardless of how weary they felt, they were forced to complete their daily regimen. The training wasn’t overly complex—it included marching, group combat exercises, swordsmanship drills, and survival skills. Each evening before setting up camp, they scoured the forest for materials requested by Master Tama, framed as “collaborative survival training.”

By now, the list of materials recorded in Brandon’s notebook had grown significantly, and the rarity of the finds indicated they were moving away from the forest’s borderlands into more untamed territory. After finishing the records for the second team, Brandon marked the end of the entry with a dot on the parchment.

The sixty recruits had been divided into six teams, each led by a captain. The leader of Team Two, Mars, hailed from Frein’s mercenary band. Though only lower-tier iron-rank in strength, he was diligent and possessed strong organizational skills—though perhaps a bit too rigid for some tastes. Still, rigidity wasn’t necessarily a flaw. As Brandon glanced toward Karglis leaning against a tree, polishing his slender blade—a design reminiscent of pre-November War command swords—he reflected that discipline could be an asset.

The swords issued to the recruits bore the same elegant style, crafted by Master Beru himself. Their quality was beyond reproach, and the design had proven wildly popular among the young trainees, whether or not they’d handled a sword before. To cement their attachment to the weapon, Brandon declared it a badge of honor: the symbol of the White Lion Guard. As long as they remained part of the guard, they would carry this Virtuous Sword.

When asked what ideals the sword represented, Brandon had replied succinctly: “Courage, pioneering spirit, and unyielding integrity.” The response resonated deeply with the romantic, knight-obsessed youth.

Setting aside these reflections, Brandon turned the page of his notebook and began writing anew:

"Sixteenth Day of the Sleeping Moon, Clear Skies —

The Black Forest grows denser. Even in broad daylight, some areas remain shrouded in darkness. Enormous spiderwebs and fist-sized cocoons fill the canopy, while moths and centipedes cling to the shadowy trunks. Strange thorny plants have begun appearing—like Witch’s Bane. This suggests we’re gradually leaving the border regions. For the first time today, we observed signs of monsters: black wolves, judging by their tracks and size."

Here, Brandon paused, lifting the quill slightly from the paper. Monsters were manifestations of magic energy warped onto the material plane, categorized into several types: feral beasts, corrupted forms, arcane creatures, shadow beasts, abominations, demonic entities, and nightmares. Black wolves fell under the category of shadow beasts—low-tier monsters, yet still formidable foes with a creature level of twenty-five. Their jet-black bodies, crimson eyes, and dagger-like fangs made them fearsome predators. Physical attacks dealt little lasting damage due to their rapid healing abilities, but their bites could easily pierce armor weaker than the level 2 plate mail. Only the reinforced chest plates of full plate armor stood a chance against their strikes.

However, Brandon kept this information to himself. The overseers maintained a deliberate silence, curious to see how the recruits would react to an ambush after a week of rigorous training. Danger was negligible; to gold-ranked individuals, black wolves posed no greater threat than docile puppies.

Brandon resumed writing:

"This is the seventh day in the forest, Brandon—"

He completed the sentence and looked around. The forest was anything but quiet. Nearby, the recruits were split into six groups, engaging in mock battles against twelve stone panthers conjured by The Sword of the Earth. Six obsidian panthers lounged nearby, disinterested in the spectacle. They lazily pawed at their noses or half-closed their eyes, seemingly puzzled by the humans’ enthusiasm. If given the chance, they thought smugly, they could easily snap someone’s neck in seconds. Fortunately, the recruits remained oblivious to the predatory gaze fixed on them—or they might have shivered in fear.

Overseeing the skirmish stood Cinnabar, Kulan, and Uriel. Uriel, captain of the peacekeeping cavalry and commander of the accompanying mercenaries, bore the heaviest burden. Beyond supervision, his men also acted as protectors. Early in the journey, they’d caught several recruits attempting to sleep directly on the damp forest floor. Night patrols ensured no one repeated the mistake, waking offenders with swift kicks and lifting their blankets to reveal the writhing centipedes and venomous snakes beneath. This tactic proved effective—many recruits learned quickly to obey orders.

Now, Uriel had a new task: evaluating the recruits’ performance in battle. The lowest-scoring team would face punishment—a grueling three-mile round-trip run through the forest. While three miles might seem trivial on flat terrain, navigating the treacherous Black Forest could take hours, especially if sent out at dusk. Returning by midnight was optimistic, and dinner? That depended entirely on whether their comrades remembered to save them a bite—or so much as a crumb.

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