Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V3C126

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Chapter 126: Wind Circlet – Part 1

Nodas had a dream. In it, he was surrounded by a tide of undead creatures. Across an endless, desolate plain, skeletons with calcium-yellow bones and crimson flames flickering in their hollow eye sockets surged toward him in relentless waves.

He watched as his comrades fell one by one. The battlefield was littered with arrows, corpses strewn in every direction. Eruin’s battered banner hung limp and lifeless, unmoving in the still air.

In the final moments, the heavens themselves seemed to collapse upon him—

And then he awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright on a bed covered in soft reeds. The Black Forest was chilly in the early morning, but Nodas felt the cold sweat soaking his back. His pale forehead glistened with beads of perspiration.

He sat there for a long while, catching his breath, before reality slowly returned. A faint glimmer of dawn spilled through the round window carved into the tree trunk, illuminating the small room.

The furnishings were simple, mostly wooden, and the entire space was a hollowed-out cavity within a massive tree. Vines draped down from above, forming a natural yet modest living area.

Nodas pressed a hand to his forehead, finally recalling that he was no longer on that battlefield. Months had passed since those strange people had rescued him and brought him here, yet the nightmares persisted.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still unsteady on his feet. Just then, he heard a commotion outside the window.

The village was usually so quiet.

What had happened?

Had the Festival of Rebirth begun?

Curious, Nodas approached the window and peered outside—

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The druids’ settlement at the edge of the Wind Circlet was a town called “Green Tower.” Though referred to as a town, it housed thousands of inhabitants, including centaurs, tree elves, and some Tanians.

The druids lived alongside other races throughout the Black Forest, establishing many such villages. They cultivated ancient trees that grew rapidly and resided within their magical trunks.

The village was built about twenty to thirty meters above the ground, connected by suspension bridges made of enchanted vines intertwined and reinforced with wooden planks. These bridges were stronger than the sturdiest stone constructions.

Countless bridges crisscrossed between the colossal trees, creating a unique aerial cityscape. The druids rose with the sun and rested at sunset, but the centaurs followed the opposite schedule. They preferred vibrant night markets and adorned the bridges with glowing lantern-like lilies that illuminated the darkness.

Thicker, spiraling vines led upward to the higher levels of the town, where the druids held assemblies and where giant eagles nested.

The druids had been allies of the giant eagles for centuries. As Brandon ascended the lush vines with Great Druid Gray Crow, he spotted enormous birds of prey darting between the towering trunks.

The dense canopy acted like clouds, allowing the eagles to soar through layers of green.

Brandon also noticed patrols of centaur guards clad in gleaming armor and wearing stern helmets. The centaurs’ symbiotic history with the druids was long-standing; they were a warrior race, with individual strength surpassing even cave dwellers.

Yet, even they relied on the druids to survive in the Black Forest.

Besides centaurs, the town housed tree elves, Tanians, bearfolk, pegasi, and unicorns—all followers of the forest goddess Nyia and guests of the druids.

However, the druids did not oversee daily operations. The town’s defense was commanded by Zenia, a centaur leader, while governance fell to an administrative council comprising tree elves, Tanians, and bearfolk.

The druids lived in the upper levels, governed by an independent body called the Witherwood Council, which handled all internal druidic affairs.

Their primary duties involved monitoring the Wind Circlet and any anomalies in the Black Forest.

The druidic upper level was far simpler than the town below. The Great Druids had woven a square plaza between six ancient trees arranged in a ring. At its center stood a statue of the goddess Nyia, and the hollow trunks of the six trees formed six halls. The hall in the west housed the Witherwood Council.

Two Ents, each two or three stories tall, sat guard at the entrance, their branch-like hands supporting their upper bodies as they dozed. These Ents were supposed to be vigilant sentinels, though they hardly seemed to take their duty seriously.

As Brandon’s group approached, the Ent on the left half-opened one eye, glanced at Gray Crow, then lazily closed it again.

The other Ent snored loudly, its rhythmic breathing resembling an ancient woodland melody.

“Please follow me,” Gray Crow nodded to the Ents, then turned to address the others.

Brandon nodded and entered the hall. His companions had been left behind in the town, entertained by hospitable tree elves. Kulan and Ropal remained with them to ensure the energetic youths didn’t cause trouble.

Only Cinnabar and Antietta accompanied the young lord now. Neither had ever seen such a place before, their eyes wide with curiosity. Even Antietta, who tried to maintain her noble composure, couldn’t help but glance around.

The hall reflected the druids’ typical architectural style: simple and natural. Aside from statues of ancestral druids and animal spirits, there were no excessive decorations. The walls were hollowed out, leaving only pillars, giving the impression the hall was exposed to the elements.

But the magic trees were resilient, continuing to thrive despite this. Above, the ancient tree’s branches remained lush and verdant.

Brandon noticed a circle of people standing inside the hall.

Among them was Andrew, the elder druid he’d met before, along with several others—seventeen in total. However, only two radiated an aura comparable to Gray Crow’s.

Thus, all three Great Druids of Green Tower were present.

“They really do think highly of me,” Brandon thought wryly. Then, suddenly, a small figure burst out of a side room, her long green hair trailing behind her as she leapt into his arms.

“Brandon!” Funiya buried her head in his chest, her voice brimming with joy.

As the chosen one of the forest goddess, she had known Brandon was en route to this region for over a month and had eagerly awaited his arrival.

Brandon blinked, recognizing the little girl. Funiya had grown taller and healthier over the past six months, thanks to the care of the tree elves.

Though unbeknownst to Brandon, the druids themselves weren’t responsible for her well-being. Her daily needs had been overseen by the tree elf council, who took their duties seriously under the Great Druids’ instructions.

Brandon patted Funiya’s head and addressed the druid elders: “I admire people who keep their promises. You haven’t deceived me—I’m satisfied.”

Funiya seemed to sense Brandon was about to discuss serious matters. She tilted her head in response to his touch, then stepped aside obediently.

Antietta knelt to take the girl’s hand, offering a gentle smile.

Funiya responded with a sweet grin.

“Lord Brandon,” the eldest Great Druid among the seventeen elders spoke. Leaning on a staff, draped in a long cloak of leaves, his gray hair and weathered face contrasted sharply with his piercing eyes.

But before he could continue, Brandon politely interrupted: “Elder, I am a noble of Eruin, but my title holds no meaning outside the human world. There’s no need to address me so formally.”

“Here, you are the elder, and I am the youth. Simply call me Brandon.”

The elder paused, his expression softening slightly. He nodded, then gestured for Andrew to step forward.

“Lord Brandon, allow me to speak,” Andrew began, addressing Brandon respectfully.

Brandon appreciated the gesture and nodded his consent.

“The elder wishes to ask, Lord Brandon—you claimed to understand the ancient magic of the druids and know secrets of the Black Forest. How credible is this statement?”

Brandon inwardly sighed. These druids certainly weren’t adept at hospitality. What kind of host interrogates a guest fresh from a long journey without offering rest? Their bluntness bordered on rudeness.

Still, he preferred this straightforward approach. If they had insisted on three days of feasting and pleasantries before getting to the point, it might have taken half a month just to enter the Wind Circlet.

Time was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

After a moment’s thought, he replied: “I know only fragments of ancient magic—not enough to claim understanding, let alone mastery. As for the Black Forest near Tonygel’s border, I am aware of certain truths.”

“For instance, is the ruin in the forest truly Valhalla?” another tall druid asked.

“No,” Brandon replied, recognizing him as a member of the Beast Spirit Circle. “I merely stated that Valhalla lies within the Wind Circlet. Whether the ruin corresponds to it—well, their locations are close, but not identical.”

The elder nodded. Brandon’s refusal to exaggerate or jump to conclusions lent him credibility. Still, the elder remained silent, exchanging glances with the others.

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

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