WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 121
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The city had changed. Nothing had changed on the surface, but something more fundamental had.
The citizens of Adelivari now had daily routines. Some tended small vegetable plots. Some led livestock far away to graze. Some melted iron. Some cut and hauled timber. Some built guard posts at strategic points near the city. Some carried stones. Some stored food and checked the inventory...
Markwin’s job was to oversee all of it under Ricart’s instructions.
It was different from what Markwin had done before, so Markwin faced small difficulties, overcame them, and gradually adapted.
Originally, this had been the king’s retreat. Every citizen of Adelivari had held a job or role little different from that of a servant to the king.
Their purpose had been to provide everything they could so the king would be comfortable and never feel inconvenienced.
But not anymore. The man who could now be called the king of this city did not want such things.
What he wanted was not a comfortable retreat, but to fight the enemy.
Markwin took a scroll and headed for the royal villa. After passing through a short corridor, Markwin reached the room being used as an office. The door was already open.
It meant anyone could come in.
When he glanced inside, he saw Bori sorting and reviewing documents.
“General.”
Bori looked up from the document. After seeing who it was, Bori gave a faint laugh and lowered their gaze again.
“What general? I’m only a wandering swordsman. Just call me Bori. It’s fine.”
“Well... Some people are not accustomed to etiquette, but some have become too accustomed to it. I would feel uncomfortable simply calling you by name.”
“Then do whatever makes you comfortable.”
Bori said it with a smile.
To Markwin, they were all remarkable people. Ricart included, as well as those around him. They felt different from ordinary people.
They seemed detached from the things ordinary people clung to. Anyone with even a little power usually became arrogant or trampled others beneath them, but these people did not.
Markwin walked over and placed the scroll on the desk before Bori.
“What is this?”
“It is the asset ledger the Hero requested. A list of all the property belonging to this city and its citizens.”
“Ah.”
Bori broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. It contained a long list of livestock such as cows, chickens, and sheep, as well as real estate and movable property.
As in most cities, the wealthiest people owned most of the property, so it did not take many documents.
“Hmm, but this will not be enough.”
“Pardon?”
“To get through the winter. We don’t know how long this fight will last, but we need to survive this winter at least.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. That is why Ricky is trying to cross the pass.”
Ricart was currently preparing to cross the pass beyond the city’s rear gate with soldiers. There was no other reason. He intended to bring in food from outside.
Like any other city in the world, if its food supply failed, it could fall into famine in an instant.
Cities with large farmlands were better off, but those without them had to buy food from rural villages.
Adelivari had a small population, and by purchasing food from the Beringen region, it had somehow endured the past four years of civil war.
If they could not secure the food supply route, they would simply sit there and starve to death.
“Grants is going to divide the army into two large forces. One will take a long route around to cut off the food supply line, while the main force prepares siege towers and advances. It is, in effect, a diversionary operation.”
Bori spoke of this enormous matter as if it were nothing. Markwin was briefly dumbfounded. To someone unfamiliar with such things, being attacked from both sides meant utter ruin.
“...Is the intelligence reliable?”
“Ricky says it hardly even counts as intelligence. An army of ten thousand can’t be hidden even if they try. Both sides will know what the other is doing as they fight. He says the important thing is deciding which pieces of the vast amount of information to accept.”
“I see... Still, is this not a grave matter? Even divided in half, they will have five thousand men in each force. That is far more than we have.”
“But we won’t have to fight all ten thousand at once. Their numbers have been cut in half, haven’t they? We can defeat them separately. Ricky said that too.”
Bori looked up from the documents and smiled at Markwin.
By then, Markwin wondered whether Bori was being too optimistic. Did Bori have no worries at all? Or no thoughts at all?
Still, Markwin could roughly guess why.
It was the ease that came from trusting Ricart completely.
This was not loyalty. It was a different kind of absolute trust. Markwin was curious about it.
“If it is not too rude, may I ask what kind of person the Hero is?”
It was a somewhat abrupt question, but Bori stopped reading the documents and considered it seriously. Or rather, Bori seemed to be looking back over the past.
Then a smile spread across Bori’s lips once more. It was a memory like the most beautiful jewel in the world, one that could not help but make anyone smile.
“He is a hero. At least, he is to me. Ricky is more precious to me than everything else in this world. If I am with Ricky, even dying does not frighten me at all.”
“How can you trust someone that deeply?”
“I was bullied when I was young. Ricky was the one who saved me then. It might seem like nothing to adults, but back then, I think I only had two choices. Give up on the world, or destroy it. But thanks to Ricky, look at me. I’m living well now. I’m even writing a book.”
Part of the reason Bori had taken charge of organizing the documents was the Mana Drive called Black Stone that Bori was writing. While working, Bori could also study and conduct research.
Markwin watched Bori quietly before speaking.
“What happens in childhood is not something trivial. It determines one’s fate for a lifetime. Then the Hero has already saved the world once, from the destruction you nearly brought upon it, General.”
“Mayor, you speak so elegantly. So elegantly that I want to learn from you. Truly.”
“Ha ha... Regrettably, that is the only talent I possess now.”
Markwin smiled bitterly.
Yet Markwin also felt relieved. This was the first time Markwin had been able to speak so openly with someone.
After chatting with Bori for a little while longer, Markwin left the royal villa. This time, Markwin went to find Ricart.
After leaving the city and following the river downstream, Markwin spotted Ricart in the distance, surrounded by soldiers. He was sitting on a rock in a red cape, eating something.
At first, it seemed as though he were explaining a strategy. But it was only ordinary conversation. Talk of wives, children, life before military service, and such things.
The soldiers occasionally burst into hearty laughter. It was natural laughter, not forced.
When Markwin came closer, they saw that Ricart was dipping thin baked bread into honey.
“What brings you here, Mayor?”
Ricart turned and called out to Markwin. Hazel eyes, shining blond hair, and even teeth. Judging by his appearance alone, he did look like a noble.
His eyes, nose, and mouth gave him a boyish look, but his strong features also made him look masculine. Ricart’s appearance held two opposing impressions at once.
Then again, perhaps it was not his appearance. Perhaps it was the mysterious air that seemed to rise from within him.
“I heard you were transporting food.”
“Ah, have you come from seeing Bori? That is right. I was discussing with the soldiers whether to go to Beringen’s regional capital or to Thorweil. We have just finished, so we will likely depart tomorrow.”
“But Hero, if you will forgive my presumption, should you not stop going out yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“You spent five days alone tearing through enemy territory and taking their flags. Now that everyone knows your resolve, would it not be better to stop putting yourself in danger? If something were to happen to you, the people’s will would break as well. Why not entrust the food transport to someone capable and remain here to bear the weight of your position?”
“Ha ha... I appreciate the concern, but I cannot. It is not that I don’t trust the others. I must see and understand things with my own eyes. The next battle will likely take place along the rear route.”
“How can you know that so well? Have you commanded armies before?”
“Let us say that I have. No, isn’t it obvious? They say they will pressure us from both front and rear. Would they not send the force to block our rear first? Arriving early would be better than arriving late, so the enemy will likely try to take our rear. We must crush them, transport the food safely, and perhaps seek mercenaries as well.”
“Mercenaries?”
“I know you have a poor opinion of mercenaries, Mayor. But if we are to settle this, we must fight a pitched battle, so we need to reinforce our numbers. With one hundred men, we can do no more than hold them off.”
“But... we don’t have the money to hire mercenaries.”
“We will have to rely on loyalty. Or buy on credit.”
“Pardon?”
“Mercenaries may have no loyalty, but I have quite a few connections in Beringen. While we transport food, I will ask around.”
After Ricart had said that much, Markwin could no longer dissuade him from going himself. Ricart always seemed to have a plan, a vision.
He was not merely strong. He was generous and deep-hearted, and clever as well. It was truly remarkable.
When someone was clever, they often lacked courage. When someone had too much nerve, they often lacked intelligence. But Ricart possessed both.
Ricart was a truly multifaceted man. A man in whom opposing qualities coexisted, at least in Markwin’s eyes.
Markwin stared at him.
Ricart wondered if there was something on his face.
Then Markwin suddenly asked, “What do you think a king is, Hero?”
“Hmm, I have never thought much about it. But I do not think the place of a person who reaches the summit exists merely for them to enjoy themselves.”
Markwin reflected on Ricart’s words for a moment, as if savoring them, then stepped back.
“I see. I understand. Forgive me for disturbing your leisure. I shall take my leave.”
“No. Come anytime. I have nothing to hide.”
At that moment, one of the soldiers raised a hand and said, “Should you not hide a little when you are with your wife?”
The other soldiers burst into laughter, and Ricart simply laughed too. Markwin was unfamiliar even with how freely Ricart treated his soldiers.
Those truly at the summit were humble toward those below. That was Markwin’s thought.
Not boasting, showing off, and enjoying oneself.
The next day, Ricart led sixty soldiers out through the city’s rear gate. Ricart’s surcoat over his chainmail was red with a white cross. It was the crest of the Calderbern family.
It had always been that way, but like his cape, Ricart favored colors that stood out wherever he went.
It was not to show off.
It meant: Attack me.
I will bear the danger, so my friends and allies can counterattack.
Was this what it took to calm disorder and become a true king? Was he truly unafraid of spears and blades, of being cut and stabbed to death?
From the window of Markwin’s room, Markwin watched Ricart depart, turning something over in Markwin’s hands.
It was a roughly made iron crown. The most precious treasure of the Kingdom of Adelorne, the Adelorn Iron Crown, symbol of kings that had endured for a thousand years.
As Markwin handled the crown, Markwin sincerely prayed for Ricart’s good fortune in battle.
God, without him, this kingdom will not survive. He is our last hope. Please, do not let our final flame be extinguished.
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