WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Abood
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Friedrich's Battlefield
Chapter 8: Battle Preparation (2)
“By the way, Yurika. What’s that sword?”
“I found it there. Looks like someone dragged it out from the steward’s mansion, but since no one could actually use a sword properly, they probably just threw it away.”
The sword Yurika had gotten while Friedrich had looked away bore the crest of the Viscounty of Dofen.
Normally, this would have been something the steward Hermann should have kept in a crisis like this. But if he abandoned his duty, then Yurika was justified in using it.
“But, Yurika, you don’t actually know how to use a sword, do you?”
“Heh heh heh. Doesn’t matter. Even if no one taught me, I can sort of use something like this just by feel.”
Saying that, Yurika swung the sword around. Her movements were surprisingly graceful and confident, showing no sign of awkwardness. It was hard to believe it was her first time holding a sword.
“Ay, you’re pretty good.”
"Told you, didn’t I? Fufufu. With this, I could fight for you in a real battle.”
With a seductive smile, Yurika stepped in front of Friedrich.
She tossed the sword to the ground, freeing both hands. With her left hand, she pulled Friedrich close, and with her right hand, she lifted his chin just a bit, bringing their foreheads together.
Their faces were so close their noses almost touched, and Friedrich’s vision was filled with her smile.
“...Everyone’s watching.”
“Doesn’t matter. Let them watch.”
Yurika’s breath brushed Friedrich’s cheek as she spoke.
Since they’d always been inseparable, the people of Volga glanced at the close pair but said nothing.
“Hey, Friedrich.”
Yurika whispered Friedrich’s name softly and took his left hand.
She rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, the same long sleeves he always wore even in summer, revealing his slender, pale arm and the scar that remained.
The scar was thin and long, the skin there slightly lighter than the rest of his arm, with a subtle indentation. It looked as if flesh had been gouged out and then healed over.
“I gave you this scar, and still you accepted me. That’s why I love you. That’s why I will protect you no matter what. You have always stayed by my side, so I will never leave yours. You understand that, right?”
“......”
Friedrich smiled as well.
He first met Yurika when he was five years old. While helping the nuns gather medicinal herbs in the nearby forest of Volga, Friedrich found her hiding inside a hollow tree, gnawing on the corpse of a squirrel.
Judging by how dirty her clothes were, she had probably been abandoned in the forest for about a week. Friedrich remembered Alma saying that.
They barely spoke; all she managed to tell him was her name, Yurika, and that she was seven years old. Friedrich stayed close to her. He couldn’t recall what was going through his mind at the time.
A few weeks after Yurika had been taken in as an orphan, one of the nuns approached her with scissors, intending to cut her hair. But Yurika reacted violently, struggling fiercely. When Friedrich tried to calm her down, she bit into his arm, tearing the flesh.
Though a seven-year-old’s teeth didn’t cause a serious wound, the nuns were more concerned about her behavior itself.
They doubted such a child could survive in society. Before she hurt herself or others further, before she grew uncontrollable, perhaps it was mercy to send her back to God.
Friedrich, overhearing the young nuns’ serious discussion, threw his first tantrum in life.
Clinging to Yurika, confused and terrified, he screamed and cried harder than he ever had, pleading that he would take care of her and begging for her to be allowed to stay. He did so for a whole day.
Even the elderly priest, who usually left the care of orphans to the nuns, came over. After everyone made a solemn vow, right there in front of Friedrich, sworn to God, to watch over Yurika for a while longer, Friedrich finally calmed down.
From then on, Friedrich never left Yurika’s side, not even for a moment. As they spent time together, Yurika gradually grew more like a child her age. The long hours and close bond between them connected their hearts and led them to where they are now.
“I’ll be wherever you are, and I’ll do whatever you do. Always.”
“...Yeah.”
They exchanged words, smiles, and then their lips drew close.
Just as Yurika’s soft lips touched Friedrich’s, suddenly—
“Are you two seriously doing this right now?”
A voice called out from behind with a tone of exasperation, freezing Friedrich in place.
But Yurika ignored the interruption and pressed her lips to his anyway.
After a kiss that felt like she was stealing his very breath, Friedrich turned around with a serious expression.
“...Sister Alma. Priest.”
Friedrich’s foster mother, Sister Alma, had just witnessed his passionate kiss with Yurika. Alma sighed with an exasperated expression, while beside her the elderly priest gave a faint, knowing smile.
It was awkward. Friedrich thought so, but it seemed Alma and the priest’s frustration was about something else.
“Friedrich, you’ve gotten yourself into quite a situation.”
“You’ve really done something serious, pretending to be related to nobility…”
The gentle old priest spoke calmly, still wearing his faint smile, while Alma sighed openly. Both of them naturally knew that Friedrich was not the illegitimate child of a noble.
It was said that eighteen years ago, Alma had been the one to receive the baby Friedrich in a basket from traveling merchants. She and the priest carefully examined the basket and the cloth he was wrapped in, but there was nothing at all to prove his identity.
“...I’m sorry. At the time, I couldn’t think of any other plan.”
“What’s done is done. We understand that you said those things because you wanted to save everyone.”
“The punishment for falsely claiming to be related to a noble is decided by the head of the noble house you impersonated. In this case, it’s Count Hosenfeld, famed as a hero. Since you did not deceive for your own gain, there is room for leniency. Both I and the priest will advocate for you… if you survive, that is.”
Alma’s exasperated expression softened into a gentle smile.
“Friedrich, if Volga and all of us are to be saved, it will be thanks to you. May God protect you both.”
As always, Alma offered a prayer for Friedrich and Yurika. The elderly priest joined her in prayer.
“...Thank you, Sister Alma. Priest.”
Grateful for the prayers from his foster mother and former guardian, Friedrich sincerely expressed his thanks.
・・・・・・
Some time later, as the sky began to lighten.
“Bandits! The bandits are here!”
“There’s probably around sixty to seventy of them! We should see them at the south gate soon!”
Two fast-footed men, who had been posted as lookouts outside the south gate, rushed into the square.
Everyone’s eyes immediately turned to Friedrich upon hearing the news.
“I was expecting to face a hundred, so that’s fewer than I thought. And they’re late too. We stayed up all night waiting for nothing.”
To mask the rising tension inside, he quickly made a lighthearted remark.
Whether seeing it as a sign of confidence or relief, the crowd’s expressions softened. Laughter even broke out.
“All right, everyone. Finish your preparations and take your positions.”
Friedrich forced a calm expression as he called out.
“It’s okay. If we follow the plan I came up with, we’ll definitely win. After all, the hero’s son says so. Trust me.”
Even though it was a reckless promise, the confidence in his voice gave it some weight. The people of Volga responded enthusiastically, shouting back in unison.
Seeing their reaction, Friedrich smiled to himself.
Honestly, he admired how easily he could keep lying one after another without breaking a sweat.
Footnotes:
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