WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 109

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The clan’s rules were absolute. A thief had their wrist cut off. Britzlingen was peaceful because its laws were strictly enforced.

At the crack of dawn, Britzlingen Castle was in an uproar. The clan’s Supply Officer was dragging Roy around by the hair, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Thief! Thief!”

Before morning roll call had even begun, the students poured out to see what was happening. Full clan members staying in the Inner Castle looked out their windows or watched from afar.

At first, Roy’s parents could not even imagine it was their son, hidden as they were behind the crowd.

Even when Roy’s sister Beka cried out in shock, they could not believe it. Their son could never do such a thing.

“Roy!”

Still, dread suddenly washed over them. Repeating that it could not be true, they pushed through the crowd and saw a grown man dragging Roy around by the hair as though abusing an animal.

“Hey!”

Hartmann roared like an enraged beast, fire flashing in his eyes. He rushed at the Supply Officer and grabbed him by the collar, but blades sprang out from every direction and were held to Hartmann’s throat.

Hartmann should have hesitated, but he did not show a trace of fear. He shoved his face close to the Supply Officer’s and shouted as though he would devour him. The blades cut his skin, and blood ran down his neck.

“Let go of him!”

The Supply Officer, furious as he had been, was overwhelmed by Hartmann’s force and released Roy’s hair.

Just then, Volka limped out of the Inner Castle. The trainees who had drawn their swords hurriedly sheathed them again.

“What happened?”

A brief silence fell, like the sky clearing after a storm. Then the Supply Officer pointed at Roy.

“This little rat snuck into the clan warehouse and stole our stored food. He also broke the Master’s prized liquor.”

Murmurs rose among the probationary trainees. Of course he did. Filthy beggar. A woodcutter’s brat.

Res stood hidden among the crowd, watching with trembling eyes.

Volka looked over the murmuring people.

“From now on, anyone who speaks without being questioned will have their tongue cut out. Shut your mouths.”

The crowd fell silent like frost settling too late in the season. Volka may have limped on one leg now, but his charisma as a leader managing many people seemed stronger than before.

Volka watched Roy quietly, as if studying him. Before him stood a terrified boy, hunched over like a rabbit rolling its eyes and waiting to die.

“Is what he said true?”

Roy looked at Volka with shaking eyes. His parents and sister stood nearby, looking desperate and unsteady, as though they stood at the edge of a cliff.

Roy’s feelings as he looked at them were too tangled to describe. Yet for some reason, he did not insist on his innocence. He only kept his mouth shut.

“...”

His silence made it seem as though he had confessed.

“The clan’s rules are absolute in this land. No matter how honored a guest you may be, there are no exceptions. A thief has their wrist cut off. Do you still have nothing to say?”

Did it really have to go this far? Even if he had truly committed the crime, was it right to inflict permanent injury over a few slices of ham and cheese?

It was too old a customary law to discuss fairness now. A thief had their wrist cut off. That was the punishment people believed theft deserved.

“Say something, Roy.”

His mother spoke to him as if pleading. She could not accept it. She could not accept his wrist being cut off, but more than that, she could not accept that her son had done such a thing.

Roy struggled. He did not know why he was struggling, or why he could not easily tell the truth.

He looked around at the people surrounding him. Their eyes held contempt and disgust. His parents and sister looked at him desperately. Volka’s stern, unwavering gaze was fixed on him.

Then his eyes met Res’s in the crowd.

At that moment, Roy could no longer think of himself. All he could see was his terrified friend.

So, though he trembled from head to toe, he said it.

“...I did it.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Elia collapsed as though she had fainted, and those nearby hurried to catch her. Hartmann’s eyes reddened, perhaps from rage.

Roy closed his eyes to the world.

Let me die. As long as I die, it will be fine. If someone had to die, it should be me. He could only feel sorry for his father and mother. It would pass soon enough.

But having his wrist cut off would not kill him if he received proper treatment. In any case, Roy had truly resolved himself to die.

The moment he confessed, everything was over. All that remained was the sentence being carried out.

Then Hartmann suddenly stepped forward and stood in front of his son. Holding out his thick forearm, he shouted.

“I’ll take responsibility! As his father, I’ll pay for my son’s crime in his place! Cut off my wrist!”

Roy began to cry. His mother, collapsed helplessly in her daughter’s arms, cried as well.

They had thought they had finally made it. They had thought they could begin a new life here instead of going all the way to the distant Eastern Frontier. Yet such a tragedy had suddenly befallen them.

Ricart, who had watched everything, did not intervene until the very end. Even if Roy was traveling with them, even if he was young, a mistake could not simply be covered up as though it had never happened.

And though Ricart had seen Res enter the warehouse with Roy and come out alone, he did not know what exactly had happened inside.

He could only quietly watch what people said and did, his friend’s judgment, and a child’s resolve.

Marie tightened her grip on Ricart’s hand. Ricart squeezed back. Being able to do nothing but watch was harder than he had thought.

Then Volka showed remarkable calm and insight.

“I have not made my decision yet. So please step back for now, honored guest. We can discuss who will pay for this crime afterward.”

Then he turned to the Supply Officer.

“Supply Officer, how did you discover the crime?”

“Pardon?”

“Explain exactly what happened.”

“What happened? The lock was fastened, which seemed strange, so I brought the key and opened it. Then there he was.”

“Why would it be strange for a lock to be fastened?”

“Pardon?”

“Shouldn’t a lock normally be locked?”

The Supply Officer fell silent. After all, the fact that he usually did not lock it could be considered neglect of duty and poor management.

Volka’s question made the probationary trainees and trainees watching think the same thing.

Wait, that was strange. Something was off.

They had simply been swept up in the mood, assuming some beggar would lose an arm. But that was not what was happening.

“If you lie here, you will be punished too.”

Volka glared fiercely at the Supply Officer. Only then did cold sweat begin to run down the man’s face. After opening and closing his mouth several times, he barely managed an answer.

“I, I don’t usually fasten the lock. Opening and closing it every day is a bother... and if I forget the key, the warehouse is quite far...”

It was a ridiculous excuse. How far could the warehouse possibly be from the quarters where he stayed?

“We will discuss your neglect of duty later. For now, we are judging only the theft. If it was locked from outside, how did this child get inside?”

“...?”

Now that they thought about it, it was strange. He could have entered because the lock had not been fastened, but how could he lock it without coming back out?

That meant there had to be at least one accomplice, or someone else was framing Roy.

Volka looked at Roy again. Roy had thought that if he confessed, it would all be over. But it was not so simple.

“If you truly committed this crime, explain exactly how and why you did it.”

Roy could not answer. He could not say that Res had woken him at dawn and taken him along, and that this and that had happened.

Roy had done nothing wrong. If anything, he had tried to stop it. Yet he had confessed because he wanted to bear it all himself and hoped everyone else would be safe.

It may have been foolish, stubborn, and impossible to understand through common sense, but he was young enough to think of nothing else.

“I, I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember something that just happened? Then how did you confess to the crime?”

“...”

“Let’s go to the scene. It may help you remember.”

Volka began to limp forward. The crowd split apart to make way for him.

When they arrived at the nearby warehouse, the scene was clear even from outside the door. Pieces of ham and cheese lay scattered about, along with a broken liquor bottle.

More importantly, there were footprints. Everyone had been too shocked and flustered at the time to notice them.

“What!?”

The Supply Officer, who had followed them, opened his eyes wide in surprise. The footprints made it obvious that two people had been inside.

Avoiding the footprints on the floor, Volka walked toward the scattered food. Roy had been brought along, and everyone else watched from a distance.

“Looking at the footprints, someone besides you came in. Did they leave and lock you inside?”

“...”

“The liquor bottle probably broke, and they panicked. So they must have tried to pin the crime on you.”

Volka had not spent only a day or two as a leader guiding people. His insight in reconstructing the incident was remarkable. He was not someone easily fooled.

When leading people, all manner of things happened. Volka had handled matters like this more than once, and he had dealt with far worse.

A clumsy act by children could not fool his eyes.

But this was still a serious matter. Theft was a grave crime. It could not simply be brushed aside.

He was responsible for many people, and he needed to show them how fairly and wisely he handled matters. Volka knew that if this wavered, the group itself would waver.

He was not in a position where he could forgive someone simply because he wanted to. Yet he could not go around killing people or cutting off wrists without thought, either. Volka felt that responsibility heavily.

“Who was the child who came with you?”

Cornered, Roy trembled. He had never been good at lying, so he could not say anything.

“Even if you keep your mouth shut, I will find out. Do you think your friend will be safe then? A harsher punishment will be waiting. Hey! Find out which probationary trainees were absent from their rooms at dawn! We will compare them with the footprints!”

Volka shouted at the crowd. Now it truly would be revealed before long.

Then Roy, driven by the thought that he had to do something, suddenly swept the liquor bottles from the shelf.

Crash!

Fine bottles of liquor fell to the floor and shattered.

No one had expected it, and everyone was startled.

Roy, who had kept his mouth tightly shut until then, looked at Volka with a resolute expression. For the first time, he was not trembling.

“Is that enough? I did it. Cut off my wrist already.”

Ricart’s eyes widened at the sight. Even Volka, who had remained calm and cool throughout, could only blink in surprise.

Res had been watching as well, but Roy’s actions shocked him so deeply that he nearly could not breathe.

I betrayed you. How can you go this far for me?

In that moment, this child overwhelmed everyone present. His parents, the other adults, even the students who trained so diligently, were left speechless.

A thought suddenly came to Volka.

Putting all this uproar aside, this little bastard had guts.

As silence hung in the air, Ricart stepped forward. He walked over to Roy, looked down at the boy, and asked,

“Why won’t you tell the truth?”

“I, I don’t know.”

“I saw it. I can point out the child who was with you here. But if you tell me why you are going this far, I will keep my mouth shut too.”

Roy lowered his head, then spoke in a voice so soft it was barely audible.

“...Because he’s my friend.”

“Fine. If you insist on carrying that heavy burden, I understand. I’ll carry it with you.”

Ricart turned to Volka and the people watching.

“From this moment on, this child is my disciple. Volka, I respect you as my friend and as the clan’s Master, and I respect the clan’s rules as well. But for my disciple, I do not care about the clan or its rules. If you tell me to leave, I will. But if you force punishment on this child, you will have to fight me. Anyone with a complaint can take it up with me.”

Though Ricart was stronger than anyone else, he did not like using strength to crush others. This time was different. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he acted as though daring anyone to do their worst.

For a child willing to bear an honorable disgrace, Ricart was willing to bear disgrace beside him.

Roy was not polished yet, but his core was full and strong. Ricart wanted to protect that core. Perhaps it was a seed that would grow into something noble and great.

Volka looked at his old friend.

“Back then, I might have laughed this off. But not now, Ricky.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll think about it before I make a decision.”

Volka let out a deep sigh, turned away, and limped off.

He had once wondered which he should choose if forced to pick between the clan and his friend. Because of the issue involving Ice, Volka had always said he would choose the clan.

But as time passed, he began to wonder what any of it was for. In the end, all he had wanted was to live peacefully with the people he cared about.

Even firm convictions could waver and change with time. Volka no longer knew what should come first.

Ricart looked back at Roy. The boy seemed unable to understand how things had turned out.

“If I were you, I would have killed the one who betrayed me with my own hands. You are the opposite of me, Roy.”

“...I only feel sorry for my parents. I don’t know why I did it either.”

“Who knows? Perhaps this happened for something greater. No one can know God’s design. You only understand after it has passed.”

“Thank you, anyway.”

“By the way, I made you my disciple without asking. Is that all right?”

“Ricky, from what I’ve seen of you, you seem like a cool person. I like it.”

Ricart snorted softly.

“Cool, my ass.”

Ricart led Roy out of the warehouse. Volka was gone, but people were still gathered outside in groups, all staring at Ricart and Roy.

Ricart swept his eyes over them with a faintly mocking expression. Most were unfamiliar faces.

At the beginning, there had only been a few friends. Was this really still the clan he had known and liked?

Volka had accomplished much and created a better environment. But was there a place for him here? Ricart did not know.

He simply did not like the current system or its people. He just had not said so.

There was competition, the pursuit of profit, disregard, contempt. They grovelled before the strong and were cruel to the weak.

Ricart knew it could not be helped for the sake of running an organization efficiently, and he did not think it was wrong. But it did not suit him.

“Move.”

Ricart’s tone was somewhat cold. Still, it was less harsh than the way these people had treated Roy.

Ricart led Roy through the crowd. Hartmann and Elia, who had been waiting, came over. The family embraced, relieved that Roy was safe for the moment.

A day later, after careful thought, Volka made his decision. Hartmann’s family would be expelled.

Those who remained, remained. Ricart set out once more for the Eastern Frontier. Hartmann’s family, Bremen, and Marie went with him.

Res followed them as they left the castle. He continued following even as they passed along the embankment road and reached the border of the territory.

In the early morning, with the sun just rising, Roy finally carried a pack suited to his size. Before entering the mountain pass, he turned back to look at Res.

Res hesitated for a long time, then came closer.

“Sorry...”

“Friends don’t need to apologize.”

Res’s face crumpled, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Sorry...”

“I’m fine. If you can only feel at ease after I accept your apology, then I accept it. Study hard, and I hope you become a fine swordfighter someday.”

“Yeah... I promise. I really will. I won’t betray you again.”

Roy looked bitterly at the crying Res, then turned toward those waiting for him. Far away, the sun hung over the crest of the pass.

“I’m going. Take care.”

On the cool morning mountain pass of the Britzlingen Viola Clan territory, violet flowers bloomed at every step.

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