Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C125

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Chapter 125: The End of the Year of Blossoms

Beru nearly leapt to his feet. While road-building wasn’t his forte, he knew the Black Forest well—both as a treasure trove for craftsman masters like himself and as a perilous labyrinth fraught with danger.

“This is troubling,” Chael remarked, shaking his head gravely.

“What do you mean?” Beru sensed there was more to the young wizard’s words than met the ear.

“Our lord… has discovered a vein of symbiotic crystal ore in the Black Forest. Based on your earlier assessment, claiming it might prove difficult.”

“Magical crystal ore?” This time, Beru truly sprang up. “You’re serious?”

“No, not just magical crystals,” Chael corrected quickly. “After the lord’s investigation, it appears to be a deposit of star iron and cold iron, along with traces of other rare minerals.”

“Iron…?” Beru’s voice trembled.

“Yes, iron—but also star iron and cold iron.”

“How… how large is it?”

“We don’t know yet. They spent two days exploring but couldn’t find its boundaries. Time was short; they’ll need to survey further later.” Chael spoke matter-of-factly.

“Two days… and no boundary?” Beru felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs. Their lord’s group consisted of three Gold-rank individuals. If even they couldn’t map its edges in two days, what did that imply?

A chilling thought struck him. His face paled. “Is it an open-pit mine?”

“No,” Chael replied, shaking his head. “It’s underground.”

Beru exhaled in relief, though disappointment lingered. “I thought for a moment it might be open-pit. But how did our lord discover it while traveling through the forest? Prospecting is a specialized skill.”

“No, no, no,” Chael insisted, waving his hands. “Let me finish. It’s hard to describe, but imagine this—an underground open-pit mine.”

“Ah…”

Beru’s grip slackened, and the pipe he’d held for years tumbled onto the steps, shattering into pieces.

But he didn’t care. Grabbing Chael’s sleeve, heedless of whether the man was a wizard, he blurted out, “Are you saying there’s an untapped deposit in the Black Forest—a massive vein of iron, symbiotic crystal ore, and rare minerals waiting for us?”

Chael hastily pushed Beru’s hand away, placing a finger to his lips. “Shh, keep your voice down. Do you want Earl Jandel to hear about this?”

Beru froze, glancing furtively around before turning back to Chael. “Are you certain? If so, this is incredible! The White Lion Armor will no longer be a problem.”

“Wait,” Chael interjected, feigning confusion. “Master Beru, that place is deep within the Black Forest. From what you said earlier, it’ll take quite some time before we can begin mining.”

“Nonsense!” Beru waved a dismissive hand, his eyes bloodshot. “Leave this to me. Even if it costs me my life, I’ll make it happen.”

“Marsha above, an open-pit crystal mine…” The old master craftsman muttered under his breath.

“That won’t do,” Chael countered sharply. “If anything happens to you, the lord will have my head—especially if he finds out I encouraged this.”

Beru shot him a glare. “Hmph, don’t worry. I won’t tackle this alone—I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’ll enlist my students’ help, though it’ll take time.”

His resolve was evident. For a master craftsman like him, the allure of such a discovery was irresistible.

He paused, then added, “Still, we can start small. Send someone to extract some magical crystal ore—it’s worth far more than silver. With funds, everything else becomes easier.”

Suddenly, realization dawned on Beru. He eyed the young wizard suspiciously. “Wait… were you planning this all along?”

“Aha,” Chael feigned innocence. “Of course not. I think it’s a great idea, but others wouldn’t agree. I believe cave dwellers might work, though I’m unsure if Tagib would cooperate.”

Beru scrutinized the wizard, increasingly convinced he’d been lured into a trap. He recalled mentioning his students earlier and cringed at the thought of Brandon learning about it.

Meanwhile, Chael remained oblivious to Beru’s growing regret. Instead, he pondered how to convince Tagib to allocate sufficient manpower.

After all, carving a path into the Black Forest was no small feat—it would be a monumental undertaking unseen in Eruin for centuries.

---

While Beru and Chael resolved to forge a path into the Black Forest, dispatching the first wave of cave dwellers, Brandon and his companions pressed deeper into the wilderness.

In Vonder’s calendar, the month of the Sleeping Moon symbolized latent potential. Astrologers believed children born during this time possessed extraordinary gifts.

Yet, in ancient witch prophecies, potential meant dormant power—and dormancy inevitably led to awakening. Thus, the final month of the year signified both the end of slumber and the beginning of renewal.

It marked the spark of civilization amidst darkness and ignorance, as well as the farewell to the old year. On the last day of the Sleeping Moon, the thirty-first, Vonder celebrated its grandest festival—the Festival of Rebirth.

The festivities lasted seven days, though in bustling cities like Freeport, the revelry often stretched for months, continuing until the season of Rebirth.

But in the desolate wilds, such luxuries were absent.

At midnight on this night, Brandon and his party reached the outskirts of the Wind Circlet.

To commemorate the passing of the Year of Blossoms and Summer Leaves, Fleur, the group’s self-appointed quartermaster, distributed small pieces of gingerbread to everyone—even Ropal and his fireclaw lizardfolk.

The youths gathered around the campfire, singing songs of their homelands. Their voices carried nostalgia for the past and hope for the future. Sparks from the fire ascended into the dark sky, carrying with them the trials of the past month in the Black Forest.

Each person felt a newfound maturity.

Brandon sat by the fire, offering his gingerbread to Tia, the young wild elf who seemed delighted by the unfamiliar treat. She clutched a piece in one hand, crumbs clinging to her lips, and smiled sweetly at him.

“It seems Tia likes me better,” Brandon teased Fleur.

Fleur stood behind him, glancing at her sister but offering no reply. In truth, she too had given her gingerbread to Tia. Though stern, her affection for her younger sibling was undeniable.

“Fleur doesn’t bother arguing with you,” Antietta chimed in, handing her own gingerbread to Tia. For once, the noblewoman felt at ease. So much had happened this year—more than she could even recall.

Tia collected the treats in her skirt, forming a small pile. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at them. Nearby, Cinnabar considered her piece, then added it to the collection.

“Thank you, Cinnabar,” Tia chirped.

The red-haired girl ruffled her hair fondly.

Brandon chuckled, ignoring Antietta’s comment and Fleur’s indifference. He gazed upward at the ink-black sky, watching leaves hang motionless on branches above. Sparks from the fire flickered briefly before vanishing.

The brightest star belonged to Marsha. Brandon watched it shine at its peak brilliance—the moment when the Year of Blossoms and Summer Leaves ended.

He would remember this year forever, along with the Black Rose War that defined it. As he looked up, he envisioned the summer skies of Buchi in late spring, streaked with the galaxies’ luminous band. Faces appeared in his mind—some fading, others growing vivid. He recognized Roma, Freya, Marden, Breyson, and many more.

This was his Year of Blossoms and Summer Leaves.

It had come twice into his life and departed twice, leaving no trace yet etching itself indelibly into his soul.

Then Brandon reflected on what lay ahead. The Year of the Sword loomed—a time when wars across the continent would trace their roots to this pivotal year. Though it might not mark the full half-century of conflict to come, Vonder’s descent into chaos began here.

The sword symbolized conquest—but also bloodshed. When swords emerged on the land, stars altered their courses, and heroes rose in response.

Astrologers named this year the Year of the Sword—the start of Vonder’s turbulent history and the epoch where players began writing their epics.

Yet, as Brandon stared at the night sky, another thought consumed him. The Year of the Sword would decide Eruin’s fate. Would history return to glory, or slide further into despair? The answer seemed closer than ever.

The young lord lowered his gaze to the Wind Circlet beneath the night’s veil.

A colossal cyclone of atmospheric currents stretched before them, originating at the southern foot of the Kalanja Mountains and spanning the entire peninsula, reaching skyward like an ancient beast lying prone.

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

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