WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 22

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There were several things one needed for harsh outdoor work, such as war or hunting. One was gloves, and another was sturdy shoes.

When carrying heavy things or handling rough objects without gloves, it was common to scrape one's hands or tear off a nail.

Sturdy shoes were necessary because few situations were more troublesome than getting a hole in one's shoe while out in the field. There was nowhere to get a new pair right away.

So shoes made of tough leather, with solid soles that could endure rough terrain, were important.

Coats and cloaks were also important in case they had to sleep outdoors. As for food, they were not heading out to fight a real war, so bringing a few personal necessities should be enough.

Volka explained all this at length before the group.

But everyone already knew it, so they looked uninterested. Volka looked deflated as a result.

“...Oh, daggers are essential too. You need them for all sorts of things. Ricky, you already have one, so you're fine... Is there anything else to say?”

A dagger was not only a weapon. It was also a useful tool in daily life. Having one or not having one made a great difference.

As Ricart listened quietly to Volka's explanation while wearing his newly bought gloves and boots, he thought that the supplies had not changed much from a hundred years ago.

When it came to such matters, Ricart knew more than Volka did. In truth, Volka was still inexperienced.

Still, Volka was the leader. Even if they were close friends, Ricart believed he should respect Volka's position and authority in an official setting. So he did not casually interrupt, add to, or interfere with what Volka said.

There were fourteen students participating in the commission: Ricart, Volka, Molty, four girls and two boys Ricart did not know, and the five members of the Ice Gang.

Just as the Adventurer Guild consisted of several clans, they had naturally divided into three groups.

Ricart, Volka, and Molty made up one group. The four girls and two boys made up another. The Ice Gang made up the third.

Still, on the surface, they were one team supported by the Academy.

“So what's the commission about?”

One of the unfamiliar boys asked Volka with a blunt expression. He had once been one of the students who collected protection money, but he kept quiet these days.

The students accepted the outcome of a fight fairly well, so there had been no particular trouble or resistance. Everyone knew the value of their own life, even without being taught.

“As I told you before, we're just cutting off deserters' heads. Apparently, a lot of them deserted. But we're only support, so we need to join up with the Yakt Clan first. The meeting point is our guild's hideout outside Griffinswald. Does anyone know where Griffinswald is?”

Two or three people raised their hands. Volka had not asked because he did not know, so he explained for those who did not.

“It isn't that far. About two days southeast of here. We could get there in a day if we force-marched, but we've still got a week before we need to meet up, so we have some room. I'd like to leave tomorrow or the day after. Anyone have another opinion?”

Volka certainly had leadership. There were many kinds of leadership, and Volka seemed to be the kind who actively listened to the opinions of the group.

He gathered their views, set a goal everyone could accept, and made them follow it willingly. It was good leadership. After all, barking orders and forcing people along were also forms of leadership.

Still, no one offered much of an opinion. They were all still a little awkward around one another.

Then Volka looked at Ice and asked,

“Ice, do you have anything to say?”

Ice simply shook their head. Yet the girls looking at Ice wore expressions as though they were dreaming. Ice was unrealistically handsome enough to have that effect.

And the four students who went around with Ice were also strikingly beautiful boys.

As usual, Ice remained silent, so Ricart asked,

“I'm curious about something. How did you become first in the pecking order?”

Since Ricart, the current number one, asked that question, the atmosphere became strange despite his intentions. The two had never actually fought one another.

Ice looked quietly at Ricart before answering.

“Just did.”

“Anyway, you're really handsome. Are you descended from elves or something?”

“Don't know.”

The replies kept getting shorter.

“You don't want to talk to me?”

“...”

Ice turned away and closed his mouth, as though he did not want to continue the conversation.

What could Ricart do when Ice did not want to talk? He was not particularly offended, but something else bothered him.

Ricart had started the conversation because they were doing something similar to a military operation, and he thought they needed at least some sense of connection with one another.

They were all in professions that handled weapons, and their lives were at stake. They needed to be able to trust each other in every sort of emergency.

If such a situation arose, there would be no time to think things over and make judgments. They needed to be able to trust one another and charge ahead, or flee together if they had to run.

But other than attending the same Academy, they had no connection with the Ice Gang. Ricart had no way of knowing whether he could trust them.

If they were people he could not trust, at least he could be on guard beforehand. But he simply could not figure out the Ice Gang.

As if he understood why Ricart had tried to speak with them, Volka studied Ice and the gang before saying,

“They'll handle themselves. Then we'll leave tomorrow.”

Once the decision was made, Ice and the gang left without looking back. The other students also departed.

Only Ricart, Volka, and Molty remained. The three walked around the city and bought the things they needed, such as potions, herbs, bandages, and travel rations.

They had to buy them with their own money, and Ricart paid most of the cost. As a result, he had almost no money left.

The next day, Ricart left the Academy and headed for Griffinswald.

Molty carried the luggage. The pack was large enough to cover Molty's broad back, and Molty's weapons were a one-handed axe and a shield. A helmet and round shield were tied securely to the pack.

Since they might need to camp, every student wore a cloak, concealing their bodies so no one could see the condition of their equipment.

All five members of the Ice Gang wore pitch-black cloaks. They looked like some order of death knights from a fairy tale.

The other students wore dark brown or similarly dark cloaks, while Ricart alone stood out in bright red.

Though the weather was somewhat warm, the students wore thick outer garments. They served as substitutes for armor.

Weapons, armor, and horses could become endlessly expensive. Metal armor was still beyond their dreams, and helmets were as expensive as armor. Helmets used less iron, but required advanced forging techniques.

That was why most people wore gambesons, outer garments padded with cotton, both in daily life and in battle. Unless they were knights or wealthy mercenaries, most people wore them.

Molty alone had a helmet, but not because Molty had money to buy one. The blacksmiths at the smithy had given it as a gift, wishing Molty good fortune in battle.

In any case, the Academy students set out to support the adventurers, prepared as thoroughly as they could be.

Volka led as the commander of the support force. The others stood in the middle, while the Ice Gang followed in the rear. No one had arranged the formation. It had simply formed that way naturally.

Ricart walked southeast along a road different from the one he had taken with Sandy.

The road he had traveled with Sandy had at least been a main road, with better security. But the southeast road looked dangerous from the start.

Old bones lay in the grass at the roadside. They were not animal bones. They looked more like a human shinbone. Ricart had returned to a world where death was close at hand.

Still, perhaps because they had chosen students from the higher ranks, no one was frightened by the sight. They simply continued walking in silence.

They left in the morning, and around noon the road led into a forest. The group entered it. Birds sang in the peaceful place, at least on the surface.

Beringen was a frontier region to begin with, so monsters could appear if they were unlucky. It was not a forest where they could let down their guard.

Everyone walked while keeping watch over the surroundings. Fortunately, nothing happened until sunset.

When night fell, the group made camp at a suitable spot where travelers seemed to stay often. They lit three fires, and the three groups sat apart from one another.

They were traveling together, yet it did not feel as though they were companions.

Ricart used the dagger he had broken several opponents' swords with and killed people with to cut ham and cheese as he ate. Then he called to the girls.

“Hey. You.”

The girls turned toward Ricart but did not answer.

“Do you have a pecking order too?”

“No.”

One of the girls replied.

“Then what?”

“We have ranks. It's a little complicated, but broadly speaking, there are maids, attendants, Ladies, and Princesses. Attendants and those below them only serve others and do not train separately. Only Ladies and Princesses train.”

It was utterly childish. What did bastards and commoners think they were doing, calling themselves Ladies and Princesses? Still, Ricart did not care much about that.

“Then are you Princesses or Ladies?”

“There are no Princesses among us.”

“Did they stay at the Academy?”

“No. They died while participating in commissions like this one. If we make it back safely, we'll probably become Princesses.”

Girls could be brutal too. Then again, that meant there had been no Princesses for some time. With the boys' pecking order, everyone moved up automatically when a spot opened. It was not the same for the girls.

“What do you get for becoming a Princess?”

“Just the best feeling in the world, I guess? Unlike yours, our dorm is divided into five rooms. A Princess is the highest-ranking person in each room. You can do whatever you want in the dorm. You're the only nice one, the prettiest, the strongest, that sort of thing.”

“...That's ridiculous.”

Volka muttered as he cut up a roasted potato with his knife. Volka had once dated a girl, so he knew about this, but hearing it again was still ridiculous.

“Then do maids and attendants just serve people until graduation?”

“If they're lucky, they can keep serving people after graduation too.”

“...That's lucky?”

“Yeah. What else are they supposed to live on? They're ugly and have no ability. Their families abandoned them anyway. They have nowhere to return to.”

“Yeah... I suppose that's true.”

It was a bitter reality. Ricart felt sorry for them, but he did not think there was anything he could do for them.

It was not like teaching them swordsmanship would make them good at it, and I can't marry all of them and support them.

“Anyway, aren't you interested in girls? Is it because you're still young? How old are you?”

One of the girls asked.

“Eleven.”

“Then you're getting old enough to know about that stuff.”

“Unfortunately, I don't believe in love.”

At Ricart's words, the girls opened their eyes wide, then burst into laughter.

“We don't believe in it either!”

Ricart smiled awkwardly.

“Ha ha ha...”

“Don't talk to bitches like that. They've got to be pretty fierce. No matter how good you are at fighting, Ricky, they might eat you alive before you realize it.”

“Yeah... I'll be careful.”

Ricart smiled awkwardly again at Volka's words. He was not offended. But had Volka not dated a girl once?

Still, it was certainly true that they had strong personalities. Girls who trained with blades and fought could not possibly be ordinary.

In fact, even the boys traveling with them looked somewhat intimidated.

Then again, the girls were very pretty just by appearance. There was a common saying that bastards tended to be handsome and beautiful.

After all, if someone cheated, they would cheat with a handsome man or a pretty woman, not just anyone.

That saying seemed somewhat true. The mothers of noble bastards were often high-class prostitutes.

“Shouldn't we decide on a night watch?”

Molty said.

“There are a lot of us, so how about we pick six people? Two from each group.”

Ricart offered his opinion. Volka nodded and readily agreed, and no one else, including the Ice Gang, objected. They decided to select two people from each group for the night watch.

Standing watch, or letting someone else stand watch, meant protecting and trusting one another. Even if only in this way, they seemed to be growing closer little by little.

The group spent the night, then left for the meeting point early the next morning. Since they had made it through the first day safely, everyone seemed a little less tense.

Ricart walked after Volka with the sword too large for him slung over one shoulder.

But the forest road did not end, even after they had walked from yesterday through this afternoon. Griffinswald itself was a village located in the forest.

Just when Ricart thought they should start encountering locals, such as herb gatherers or hunters, something caught his eye.

At first glance, it was a bush swaying gently in the wind. But it looked artificial to Ricart.

“Volka.”

“Huh?”

Ricart called Volka and pointed with his chin toward the spot he suspected. Volka looked there, and the other students soon focused their attention on it as well.

Nothing looked strange at first, but perhaps because Ricart had pointed it out, it seemed strangely dangerous.

The column had stopped before they knew it, and everyone looked around warily.

Then someone suddenly rose from the very spot Ricart had suspected and hurled a spear.

Whoosh!

People hiding on the other side of the road appeared all at once.

Rustle! Rustle! Rrrrustle!

Judging from the sound of grass brushing together, there were not just one or two of them. It was an ambush. The only fortunate thing was that they were not monsters, but whether they were monsters or people, their intent to kill was clear.

“Who are you people?!”

The startled students panicked.

Even students who ranked fairly high at the Academy could not quickly draw their weapons when they entered a real fight, especially after being ambushed. They were simply shocked and confused, unable to decide what to do.

“Aah!”

A girl's scream rang out. From that moment on, they fought desperately against the unidentified attackers.

They had forgotten every bit of training they had received and were almost forcing their way through the fight. Still, it was praiseworthy that they did not run away.

Of course, praise or not, surviving was what mattered most.

One of the attackers rushed at Ricart and tried to thrust a sword into him. Ricart instinctively twisted aside, grabbed the sword slung over his shoulder, and struck the attacker's chin upward with the pommel.

Crack!

The attacker jerked their head back before collapsing face-first onto the ground. Ricart had no time to look back. He drew his sword and tossed the scabbard aside.

Then he ran toward the girl he had briefly spoken with the previous night. She had managed to block the attacks, but she had been knocked onto her backside and was in danger.

Someone raised a sword high and prepared to bring it down. All the girl could do was lift her sword like a stick and block. At that rate, she would not be able to stop the blow, and her head would be split open.

Whoosh!

Clang!

Ricart rushed in at just the right moment and knocked the sword aside. Then he gripped the ricasso at the base of the blade and drove it into the enemy's stomach like a short spear.

When he pulled the sword free, blood poured from the wound. The enemy dropped to their knees with wide eyes.

“Fuck...”

Blood covered the blade. Sounding angry, Ricart shouted at the girl.

“Get up!”

This was no time to speak gently. The frantic sound of blades clashing came from every direction.

Ricart quickly swept his gaze over the area and instantly counted the enemies. There were more than thirty of them. Too many.

“Volka!”

There were too many enemies, all tangled together, and Ricart could not properly see Volka. But he heard a shout that told him Volka was alive.

“Ricky!”

Ricart ran toward the voice without hesitation.

Once a melee broke out, the enemies could not coordinate properly either. And in the chaos, Ricart realized they were absolutely not ordinary bandits.

But whoever they were, they needed to regroup first. They could not keep fighting like this. If they did, they would all die under the weight of numbers.

Rather than killing the enemies, Ricart stabbed and slashed however he could to open a path. Cries of pain rang out all around him, and people called names he could not identify.

When he reached Volka, Volka's face was flushed, and he held a sword that was not even his own. That sword was bent too.

Molty had no weapon. Holding the shield in both hands, Molty used that large body to ram and shove the enemies away.

But blood was streaming from Molty's side. Molty had been struck by the spear the attackers had thrown at the start.

“This way!”

Ricart shouted. Instinctively, he tried to break through the enemies' weakest point.

Naturally, the enemies blocked the way, but Ricart stopped short, seized the right moment, and swung his sword broadly to the side.

Whoosh!

Clang! Claaang!

Along with the sound of the blade cutting through the air, three people's weapons shattered like stalks of straw.

The enemies froze in shock, wondering what had happened. When Ricart rushed at them with that momentum, they scrambled back.

Ricart opened an escape route through the gap and got Volka and Molty out.

“Over here!”

Volka and Molty had been fighting so wildly that they could barely think. They simply moved toward Ricart's voice. The other students poured after them.

But Ricart remained behind and faced the pursuing enemies. Only after driving them back did he follow the students.

They ran madly through the forest away from the road, and it was hard to tell where they were. Fortunately, Ricart reached where Volka and Molty had hidden.

The other students who had fled were already there. The girls' hair was disheveled, and the boys looked dazed.

Two of the five members of the Ice Gang were missing. That left nine people in total. There had originally been fourteen.

Unlike usual, Ice looked disheveled, breathing harshly with his pupils dilated.

Molty leaned against a wall, breathing hard. Molty forced the pack off their back and said,

“T-take it.”

Ricart ignored Molty's words, sat down, and pulled out his dagger. Then he ripped the clothes open and exposed the wound.

Molty must have pulled out the spear in that desperate situation, because the spearhead was nowhere to be seen. But the backward-facing barbs had made the wound large. Blood pulsed from it.

Ricart pressed his hand over Molty's wound. In an instant, his hand was soaked with blood.

“Potion. Get the potion out.”

Ricart spoke to the nearby students. But one student's hands shook so badly that they could not even properly take a potion from their pack.

“Get it out already, you bastard!”

Ricart whipped around and shouted fiercely, like a wild beast. A habit from his previous life had surfaced. In an emergency, his nerves could not help but become sharp.

Volka was shaking too, but Volka could not stand it any longer. Volka snatched the pack away, took out a potion, and handed it over.

Ricart first poured water from a canteen over the wound to wash it. The moment he opened the potion, he poured it all over the injury. Molty drank what remained. It cost one gold coin per bottle, but Ricart used it all without hesitation.

Then he even took out a needle and stitched the wound. He slathered on enough ointment to nearly empty the jar, then wrapped bandages around it however he could.

Everyone was struggling just to take care of themselves, but Ricart had opened their escape route, held off the rear, and treated the wounded all by himself.

After finishing the first aid, he caught his breath and looked at Molty. Molty had already lost too much blood and did not seem capable of fighting any longer. Potions were only for emergency treatment. They did not suddenly heal everything.

“Huff, huff, huff, huff...”

“Molty, it's done. You're going to live now. Isn't that a relief? Stay awake.”

“Huff, huff, ha ha, ha ha ha...”

Molty gave a weak smile with a pale face. Molty would live if they rested quietly, but the problem was the enemies.

Before they could even worry about whether the other five were alive or dead, the enemies were coming this way. Then Ice suddenly tried to leave.

Ricart's eyes widened as he asked,

“Where are you going?”

“To complete the commission.”

“Are you insane?”

Ricart frowned as though he could not believe such a person existed. It was the first time he openly showed hostility toward Ice.

“...”

Ice stared quietly at Ricart, then simply left. The other students hesitated before following Ice.

“Sorry.”

The girl Ricart had saved said as she left.

Was it fortunate that she had at least apologized? Fortunate, my ass. Ricart had not saved her to receive thanks, much less an apology.

But as frustrating as it was, he could not tell them to risk their lives and fight for the wounded. Ricart stared blankly at the students as they moved away.

Volka also watched the students fleeing and abandoning them with an expression of disbelief.

“Those fucking bastards...”

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