Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C119

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Chapter 119: The Alchemist's Treasure Trove, Part 3

The notification "Eruin Military Swordsmanship has unlocked an additional level" was clear in its meaning. Beyond the master peak at level fifteen, Brandon could now invest further skill experience to push the art into level sixteen—a realm of creation and mastery.

However, while levels thirteen to fifteen required only two thousand skill points each, the leap to sixteen demanded a staggering five thousand. This had consumed nearly all of Brandon’s available skill experience. Though he’d eagerly chosen to advance his swordsmanship, he now faced the consequences: a complete lack of skill points, forcing him to rely solely on practice to improve other abilities.

Fortunately, the Black Forest was rich with materials, making it an ideal place to hone skills through trial and error. After extracting the “Fragmented Aura of Luck,” Brandon noticed his alchemy skill inch forward, solidly entering level seven. At this tier, he gained access to advanced potion-making and synthesis arrays—tools essential for crafting potent elixirs.

He glanced at the young recruits nearby. Several formulas came to mind that could enhance their strength—and even his own. For instance, an elemental affinity potion capable of increasing a fire elemental pool by five units. Unfortunately, he lacked the key ingredient: dragon blood moss.

“If only I had some dragon blood moss,” Brandon muttered under his breath.

“What is that?” Fleur asked curiously.

“Legend says when a dragon falls, its blood flows crimson and pungent, forming ancient pools. Around these pools grows thick, scarlet moss—dragon blood moss.”

“It’s used to make dragon power potions,” Brandon explained.

Fleur nodded knowingly. dragon power potions were as famous as dragons themselves, especially among warriors. They granted a substantial boost in physical power equivalent to two or three years of rigorous training for an ordinary person. In Brandon’s terms, they directly increased strength and constitution by five units, potentially elevating an average individual to iron-rank status instantly.

These potions were prized for training armies and coveted by nobles alike. On the black market, a single vial fetched around ten thousand torr. While spending such sums to create an iron-rank soldier was costly, the time saved made it worthwhile.

Still, Brandon had no intention of profiting from this. First, neither southern Eruin nor the Black Forest were known for dragon blood moss. Second, the impending surge of magic energy would soon cause prices for potions and magical items to plummet. Entering the market now would only invite trouble. He’d even warned Roma to avoid investments in magic-related goods. Surprisingly, she already knew about the magic tide—but thankfully, not the unprecedented super-tide looming ahead. If she had, Brandon might have grown suspicious of her aunt’s true identity.

“Can you make such a thing, My Lord?” Fleur inquired.

“Level-seven alchemy meets the threshold, but success won’t come easily,” Brandon replied, watching as the young recruits finally repelled the twelve stone panthers. They earned a brief respite, though Cinnabar and Kulan would soon teach them new lessons. The old swordsman focused on refining Eruin military techniques, while Cinnabar took a more direct approach—knocking her charges down one by one so they could reflect on their shortcomings.

“Level-seven alchemy?” Fleur frowned, wondering if wizards or their students always spoke so cryptically. But as her lord, she kept her thoughts to herself.

“I meant the current stage of alchemy,” Brandon clarified smoothly, accustomed to adjusting his explanations.

“In Rubis Port, few can craft such things,” Fleur remarked. “dragon power potions fetch over three thousand Rubis gold coins at auction—far beyond what mercenaries like us could afford.”

Three thousand Rubis gold coins equaled fifteen thousand torr. After marveling at Rubis’ exorbitant prices, Brandon casually remarked, “I’d love to hear your tales of adventure someday.”

“You know those are fabricated memories,” Fleur replied.

“But they’re also real in a way—distilled from countless Rubis mercenaries’ experiences, yet uniquely yours. To me, you exist in truth.” Brandon turned to face the stoic maid.

“Thank you, My Lord,” Fleur responded quietly. “We adventure to earn money, to better ourselves. Yet what we earn barely covers luxuries like these.”

“dragon power potions aren’t exactly high-tier,” Brandon admitted.

Still, he knew Fleur spoke the truth. During Amber Sword’s early chapters, a single recipe for dragon power potions was valued at three million torr. This era—the Empire of New Beginnings—was just five years shy of the next chapter, War and Chaos, marking the final days before history’s greatest magic tide.

In-game, this period was called the Age of Waning Magic. But the tide approached swiftly.

Fleur gazed at him silently.

“To buy a decent weapon, we weigh every option carefully. Armor? We patch it repeatedly,” she continued, her voice steady. “A mercenary’s life is harsh. Bloodshed doesn’t guarantee indulgence.”

“All lives are the same,” Brandon replied. “Nobles, kings, merchants—none escape suffering. No one stands above others on this scale. Happiness is fleeting; pain and sorrow endure.”

Neither spoke further. Each had their own answers to life’s purpose.

At that moment, heavy footsteps echoed behind Brandon. Turning, he saw Ropal, the towering lizardfolk lord, partially concealed by a redwood tree. Its dark crimson skin and mottled scales blended seamlessly with the bark, providing natural camouflage. But Brandon caught the wary inquiry in its cold, yellow diamond-shaped eyes.

“What is it, Ropal?” Brandon asked.

He’d summoned the lizardfolk lord on the second day of their journey into the forest. Leaving it in the territory raised too many questions, so keeping it close seemed prudent. Alongside Ropal, he’d brought thirty Fireclaw Spearmen—a company of iron-rank warriors whose prowess was amplified by Ropal’s presence. When “Fireclaw Lord on the field” triggered, they transformed into Fireclaw Assault Spearmen, a group of level thirty-two creatures, achieving lower silver-rank strength—nearly matching Ruby mercenaries enhanced by The Everwoven Myriad.

During this expedition, Ropal and his kin primarily handled perimeter vigilance. Occasionally, he was instructed by Brandon to allow beasts to slip past, testing the recruits’ reactions. So far, results were satisfactory.

Ropal said nothing but bent low, placing a stone in Brandon’s hand. Imagine the sheer size of this creature—nearly two and a half meters tall. As it leaned down, Brandon felt the overwhelming pressure.

Taking the stone, Brandon froze. It resembled a crystal, transparent with a lattice-like texture emitting a faint glow. Absorbing light, it appeared almost black. The surface was icy to the touch.

Brandon’s eyes widened. “Where did you find this?” It wasn’t a crystal—it was a scale from a war basilisk.

“A pond,” Ropal gestured with three fingers, conveying that Antietta and Tia had discovered the pond and found fragments of scales within.

This indicated the presence of basilisk nearby. Basilisk were descendants of the great sea monster Hydra, once widespread across the land before being driven to wilderness by humanity. Variants included nine-headed shadow basilisk bred by dark elves for warfare, and five-headed primordial basilisk worshipped as deities by swamp-dwelling tribes.

Typically, three-headed basilisks displayed early gold-rank strength, five-headed ones reached the upper gold-rank, nine-headed variants awakened elemental affinities, and twelve-headed basilisks boasted bronze-tier bodies.

Brandon’s interest piqued. Legend held that the chest scales of basilisk were blessed by the great Hydra itself, making them invaluable alchemical materials. Additionally, their blood—though inferior to dragon blood—surpassed dragon blood moss in quality and could be used to craft superior dragon power potions.

Standing up, Brandon clapped his hands to draw the attention of Kulan, Cinnabar, Uriel, and the recruits.

“There’s work to do.”

TLN: The entire third volume has been completely translated. You can read all of it through the links below.

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