WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 104
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“Those two are Bori’s disciples.”
Ricart said, pointing his thumb at the boy and girl behind him.
Marie, who had been watching the strangers with a cool gaze, one hand resting on her sword hilt and one hip cocked, opened her eyes wide.
Bletter looked surprised, while the others naturally had no idea what was going on.
“Bori has disciples?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“No. Is Bori even capable of teaching anyone?”
“Bori should be good enough... shouldn’t he?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
There seemed to be a slight misunderstanding between Ricart and Marie.
Marie had only meant that Bori’s swordsmanship was so unusual that it did not seem like the sort of thing anyone could learn.
In any case, that was not important right now. Ricart turned to the boy and girl and introduced Marie.
“This is my wife, Marie. This is my senior, Bletter. He graduated from Beringen Academy and used to be an adventurer in the same guild as me. This is Bremen, our guide, and...”
While introducing Marie, Ricart introduced everyone else as well. Hartmann’s family, Dalia and her son, and the four siblings.
But the boy and girl kept their mouths shut for a long while, as though shy around strangers, before finally giving their names.
“...Kaspar.”
“I’m Yulia. But are you really that Ricky?”
“Don’t believe me? I believe you’re Bori’s disciples.”
Ricart asked with a smile. The boy named Kaspar avoided his gaze as he replied.
“I’ll know when I see it.”
They were only half convinced. That was fine.
“Did Bori ever talk about me?”
When Ricart asked, Yulia glanced at the boy traveling with her before answering. Though they did not show it, the two seemed bewildered by the situation as well.
“There are no prodigies in the world. Except Ricky. That’s what Master said.”
“That’s all?”
“Master doesn’t usually tell us personal stories.”
“Did Bori say anything about me?”
Marie cut in with a question. She seemed fascinated to learn that her friend was raising disciples and looked expectant.
“Master said you wielded the most manly sword among his companions...”
“What?”
Marie looked baffled by the unexpected assessment. Ricart, however, could guess what it meant.
Bori had a peerless sword style, while Ice’s sword was precise as though measured with a ruler. Marie’s sword was exceedingly direct and could even be explosive at times.
In short, she overwhelmed opponents through power and speed rather than subtle variations. Its foundation was the swordsmanship of the Kelbron family, established by Hellawman.
Compared to the other three, whose swordsmanship had no clear roots, Marie’s had the clearest lineage.
“Still, this is really strange. Bori is raising disciples. Maybe we should have raised disciples too?”
“Marie, you said I had no talent for teaching.”
“I can teach them. Ricky can help.”
“Shouldn’t we raise our own child first? Is Bori married?”
Ricart looked toward Kaspar and Yulia as he asked. The two shook their heads.
“Does Bori have other disciples besides you two?”
“There are many disciples in the clan, but Master only has four direct disciples. We are two of them. You need talent worthy of becoming a Sword Master to become Master’s direct disciple.”
The Viola Clan had something like ranks: apprentices, probationers, trainees, and direct disciples.
The boy and girl before them had been recognized for their exceptional talent and were taught directly by Bori, the current Sword Master.
“But don’t you need to learn ancient script to master Bori’s swordsmanship? Studying that is incredibly boring.”
“Ancient script?”
“Yeah. Bori writes characters with a sword and all that.”
“I don’t know. We’ve never seen it. Master is simply someone who has reached the ultimate realm of the sword. Master always says that, among the Four Swords, Master was the least capable, but we think that is only humility.”
They had never seen it? Not understanding what that meant, Ricart and Marie looked at each other. The first thing that came to mind when they thought of Bori was swordsmanship like writing letters, yet these two had never seen it.
There seemed to be a difference in perception between those who had worked alongside Bori and those who received Bori’s teachings. Or perhaps Bori had never properly demonstrated that swordsmanship before the children.
“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. This brings back memories. Bori and I once talked about raising disciples, having them spar, and betting on who would win. Sadly, I have no disciples. Nobody could understand what I was saying.”
“I told you, Ricky. You have no talent for teaching...”
“No, I think I explained it simply enough.”
“Excuse me for interrupting, but what are we supposed to do now?”
As the four seemed to be having a private conversation, Bremen cautiously stepped forward. What mattered now was deciding whether they should continue on the road or not.
According to Kaspar and Yulia, though, everywhere was dangerous now.
“First, let’s hear the situation. The east is dangerous because of the war.”
Ricart spoke. They needed to understand the situation before they could make any plans.
Kaspar and Yulia looked at this mismatched group for a moment before speaking.
“The Ringwald Sword Brotherhood controls this place now. They say its leader was once the Guild Master of the Adventurer Guild, though we aren’t sure. In any case, he claims he has succession rights to Rotheim and killed the lord’s family. Since then, he has raised taxes and strictly enforced the laws of the territory under the pretext of restoring discipline. Anyone who drinks, fails to pay taxes on time, does not show loyalty to the lord, or otherwise behaves suspiciously is executed without exception.”
Yulia spoke while looking at the gallows tree in the distance. That seemed to be the result of those territorial laws being strictly enforced.
Of course, it made no sense for someone who was not even the lawful lord to establish and enforce territorial laws.
While everyone else trembled in fear at the sight of the gallows tree, Ricart saw through Ringwald’s hysterical anxiety.
He was afraid. His position was unstable, so he feared suffering exactly what he had done to others.
“Then the toll must be incredibly high too.”
Marie asked. Yulia silently nodded.
The road was practically blocked.
It might seem they did not need to follow the road in such open country, but the territory was surrounded by mountain ranges. They had no choice but to pass through the gorge, where they would inevitably be caught.
The group’s expressions turned grim. The east was a hell on earth because of the long war. Here, they executed even people who behaved suspiciously, so being noticed meant death.
They did not have enough money to stay in Wertheim and set out again later. Should they find work there instead?
Everyone’s face darkened with worry. Marie would follow whatever Ricart decided, while Kaspar and Yulia watched Ricart as if observing him.
“Why do you all look so gloomy?”
Ricart said as he looked at the migrants.
“Isn’t this better than being attacked without warning? We know the danger beforehand, so we can act accordingly. First, let’s set up camp.”
Then he immediately headed toward the village.
Bremen called after him in alarm. They said anyone who behaved suspiciously would be killed without exception, yet Ricart was openly heading into the village.
“H-hey, where are you going?”
“To that village.”
“Then won’t we be noticed and put in danger?”
“If they’ve been killing people like this, there’ll be empty houses. The border of the territory is more dangerous. That Ringwald bastard is scared out of his wits, so he’ll be patrolling hard to see whether outside forces are coming.”
It made sense, but Ricart had reached his conclusion so readily that no one quite knew what to say.
They wondered whether this was really right, but when they followed Ricart into the village, there truly were many empty houses.
The people were so gaunt that they neither looked surprised nor afraid when they saw Ricart’s group. They merely stared with lifeless, hollow eyes.
It was dreadful. There was no one left to protect the common people.
It seemed that Ringwald had never possessed any sense of responsibility or duty as a lord. Naturally, he had no sense for economics either. He had probably been blinded by the title itself, which glittered like a jewel.
He had committed the deed, but did not know what to do afterward. He had only ever made his living by the sword, so how could he know anything about ruling people?
Ricart looked through the small village before settling in a house with a ruined vegetable garden. Inside, the house was simply empty.
“Don’t unpack everything. Stay ready to leave at any time. If anything happens, Marie and Senior Bletter, protect the people.”
He meant to use the house as a kind of fortress. It was difficult to fight while protecting people in the open, which was why he had suggested coming to the village.
“You two and I will go to the border of the territory. If things go well, we can settle this and pass through today.”
Ricart swiftly assigned everyone their roles, then simply left, leaning on his cane. He was so decisive that it hardly seemed like a problem that could be solved so easily.
Ricart walked toward the border with Kaspar and Yulia. He did not even try to hide himself, walking openly down the road. The boy and girl followed him with bewildered expressions.
“So, how many good people have you saved?”
Ricart suddenly asked as he walked ahead.
“I don’t know. Maybe... three or four?”
“Not every bandit is the same. Unlike before, many bandits these days have good equipment and can fight quite well. If there are too many of them, there’s nothing we can do.”
Ricart had not even criticized them for saving so few people, but Kaspar spoke as though making excuses.
“I suppose so. Adventurers who used to hunt wanted criminals or take care of requests must have become bandits in large numbers. But what is this, some kind of warrior training? Did Bori tell you to do it?”
“Master said that we could never become Sword Masters if we only trained with swords without gaining real combat experience.”
“That’s true.”
“But did you really teach our master?”
“I lied.”
“What?”
“I only taught Bori a little at first. After that, Bori learned on his own. What’s remarkable about Bori is an unbreakable heart. Looking back, Bori had every reason to turn bitter, but didn’t.”
Ricart spoke as he remembered Bori being bullied in the Academy chicken coop.
Bori had reason to hold a grudge and could have sought to repay it after growing stronger. But Bori did not.
Even in this harsh and merciless world, Bori only knew how to see the bright side of the world and the goodness in people.
“Why do you two learn the sword?”
“...I don’t know. Because I’m good at it? Because I can become even better?”
“Sure. Work hard, then. You should do what you’re good at.”
Ricart spoke as if he did not care.
But Kaspar and Yulia could not help being interested. Their revered master occasionally spoke of Ricart as someone far greater than Bori.
Yet Ricart was strangely shrouded in mystery. Of course, the faint reputation passed from mouth to mouth was impressive.
He had killed a clan master at a young age and executed an infamous Sword Master. Ricky the Severer, Tiger of Kaits, the genius swordsman of Beringen Academy, the Red Cape.
Still, it was hard to imagine that he was stronger than their master, who was now nearly among the Empire’s strongest.
That was why they were curious. Desperately so. The boy and girl had also chosen the path of the sword.
At the same time, they were uncertain. Was he really that person? Was he an impostor? Could he truly be that strong?
“To be honest, I’m a little upset too.”
Kaspar suddenly blurted out what was on his mind.
“About what?”
“Ever since I first picked up a sword at seven, I grew up always being called a prodigy. I changed my mind after meeting Master. But I can’t agree that there are no prodigies in the world except Sir Ricky.”
Ricart walked a little farther, then turned to look at Kaspar. Their gazes met.
Ricart’s fixed stare was the kind that seemed to see through a person. Ice had said that this piercing gaze was practically cheating.
Kaspar was filled with the youthful spirit and stubbornness of his age, while Ricart saw not only that stubbornness but the substance beneath the shell.
Ricart turned forward again and spoke.
“I can guess why Bori said that. Bori is too kind to say cruel things.”
Although they had not seen each other in four years, Ricart understood what Bori had felt when saying that to a disciple.
They had traveled together through hardship for years and experienced so much together. It was not difficult to imagine Bori’s feelings.
The cold winter, fresh spring, sweltering summer, and cool autumn he had spent with Bori flashed through Ricart’s mind in an instant.
But Kaspar, who could not know those past days, frowned and asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Your swordsmanship is for you to handle. But if you want to become a Sword Master, you must ultimately face yourself. Marie, Ice, and Bori all became Sword Masters by overcoming themselves. That’s how it looked to me. They all had burdens of their own.”
“...”
“So Kaspar, can’t you let go of being called a prodigy?”
“...I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Prodigy is only a word. It has no meaning at all. But if you can’t let it go, isn’t that your fixation? Look deeper, and it’s probably the sense of superiority that comes from being better than others. You can’t let go because those admiring and jealous looks feel too good. That’s what I mean.”
Kaspar’s face flushed at Ricart’s sharp observation. He wanted to argue, but no words came out.
Their conversation ended there. The three walked silently down the road.
The border of the territory was farther away than expected. By the time they nearly reached it, it was late afternoon. Considering the time it would take to go back and forth, they would likely not be able to cross the territory today.
And as expected, armed people guarded the passage. They appeared to live in something like a guard post, and there were more of them than expected. About fifteen, perhaps.
Kaspar and Yulia tried to hide themselves and observe first, but Ricart kept walking ahead, leaning on his cane as though nothing were wrong.
“W-what? W-wait.”
If Ricart was stronger than their master, killing around fifteen swordsmen would not be difficult. Still, seeing him walk straight toward them without hesitation was alarming.
Ricart only stopped, turned back, and said,
“You said this was warrior training.”
“What?”
“If you can’t even deal with punks like that, when are you going to train?”
“...”
“Do you carry swords at your waists without being ready to die? All style and no substance. Tsk, tsk, tsk...”
Ricart clicked his tongue as though they were pathetic.
“But the numbers should at least be close. Or we should ambush them...”
“Looks like Bori coddles children. You’re old enough already. What great prodigies we have here. Hmph.”
Ricart sharply turned his head as though dissatisfied, then continued toward the passage alone.
Kaspar seemed to be suddenly overcome by defiance, and he followed Ricart again.
“K-Kaspar.”
Yulia was startled, but she followed Kaspar without thinking.
The people guarding the passage had been chatting, but when they saw three sword-bearing figures approaching from a distance, they took up their weapons. Some alerted those inside the guard post.
Ricart walked up to them with perfect calm and said,
“How much is the toll?”
One man, who had already drawn his sword and was putting on an intimidating display, answered.
“One gold coin per person.”
“You need to know when enough is enough. Do you think you can make money by gouging people like that?”
“What did you say?”
“These two say they can’t overlook your evil deeds any longer. Killing innocent nobles and tormenting people ends today. Prepare to die.”
With that, Ricart stepped back. Kaspar and Yulia, who had followed him, now found themselves standing at the front.
What? Wait a moment. We never said that.
“I did it all with Bori when we were younger than you. Go on. Go kill them all. That’s what training is. Let’s see those prodigious sword skills of yours. You don’t call yourselves prodigies just because you wave toy swords around in sparring matches, do you?”
Kaspar and Yulia had not even drawn their swords when additional people emerged from the guard post carrying weapons, as if wondering what was happening.
Ricart truly looked ready to stand behind them, lean on his cane, and watch.
Around fifteen cold blades flashed. By common sense, it made no sense for two people to face ten or more.
But in Ricart’s view, discussing the sword without ever standing at the boundary between life and death was what truly made no sense.
How could someone who walked the path of the sword always fight only battles in their favor? In that uncertainty of victory or defeat, life or death, the will that flashed forth was the foundation of a swordsman.
It had been the same in the past, but Ricart and Bori held different beliefs about the sword. Especially when it came to teaching.
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