WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 43
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At the girl’s words that she was heading to Beringen Academy, Ricart and Boribori simply stared at her. Technically, that made her their junior. Not that seniority mattered much, but still.
It was early evening, and a faint trace of sunlight still lingered in the dark blue sky. With the campfire between them, Ricart asked,
“Why there?”
“Because I have to enroll. And...”
Ricart and Boribori waited for the girl, who had half-buried her face between her knees, to continue.
“I have to become number one there.”
“...Why?”
“Because then I’ll be useful...”
“Useful for what?”
“Just... everything...”
It seemed she had circumstances she could not speak about. So Ricart and Boribori did not press her further.
“Well, that’s a relief. We’re going there too. Beringen Academy.”
At Boribori’s words, the girl raised her head from between her knees, her large eyes wide.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re enrolling there too?”
“No. We enrolled about a year ago.”
“...What do you mean?”
“It’s an Adventurer Academy. Sometimes we take requests. We’re heading back after finishing a job.”
Ricart said it as though it were nothing, but they were returning after killing every one of the infamous Ernberg Five, including one of the Nine Swords of the Empire.
“Oh... wasn’t it dangerous?”
“Of course it was. But what else can you do? If you want to be an adventurer, you have to live like you’ve got half your life on the line.”
“R-right...”
“Why? Doesn’t sound too appealing now that you hear it?”
“No. It might actually be better.”
“Sounds like your family gave you a hard time too.”
Ricart said that because, aside from himself, he had never met a student who had grown up being properly treated as a child by their family.
“That’s about right... But still, I want to accomplish something with my own hands. Adventurers seem freer than knights. I think danger is the price of freedom.”
“You’re optimistic. But you’re right. Adventurers aren’t bound by oaths. Still, you have to establish principles of your own that matter as much as an oath. Otherwise, freedom just becomes self-indulgence.”
“...”
Ricart’s mature words left the girl speechless for a moment. They even came as a slight shock.
“...Then what are your principles?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m at the Academy. I’m finding them one by one.”
The girl fell into thought for a moment, then spoke again.
“Anyway, that means we all belong to the same Academy, right?”
They had not known one another long, yet that fact alone seemed to ease some of the girl’s wariness and reassure her.
No, it reassured her quite a lot.
“What’s your name?”
Ricart asked.
“Ah, um... Marie. What about you two?”
“...”
Marie introduced herself first, then asked Ricart and Boribori in return. Yet for some reason, the two boys were looking at her with doubtful expressions.
“W-why? What is it?”
“You’re a noble, aren’t you?”
Boribori suddenly asked. Marie flinched in surprise.
“Uh, ah, n-no. I’m not.”
It was an incredibly clumsy lie.
Ricart had always been frighteningly perceptive, while Boribori had learned to notice things after what Ricart had put him through before. In truth, there was no need to notice at all. It was obvious.
And after spending so much time with Ricart, Boribori had picked up quite a bit by watching him. Observation was one of those things.
Boribori questioned her as if interrogating her.
“Custom-made armor? Your family must have money.”
“U-uh, well, having money doesn’t mean you’re a noble.”
Marie was visibly flustered. Since she clearly did not want to reveal it, Ricart and Boribori did not push any further. Ricart himself had hidden the fact that he was a noble, after all.
“Sure, you probably have your reasons. But being part of the same Academy means it doesn’t matter whether you’re a noble or not. We’re all students. So don’t take offense, all right?”
“I’m not offended. I won’t be.”
“You definitely are a noble.”
“N-no. That’s not what I meant.”
“Ricky.”
“Hm?”
“I’m Boribori.”
“Uh...?”
“I know. My name is weird. But Bori Sword Art will be cool.”
“...”
To Marie, they seemed like somewhat strange boys. At least she could not feel any malice from them. Still, they were strange.
Yet that strangeness held many things within it. Despite being so young, the two boys seemed unafraid of the world.
Even though they were around her age.
There was something quietly impressive about that, and somehow, it made her feel braver too.
How could they be so relaxed?
“Anyway, you’ll have to work hard if you want to be number one in the pecking order.”
Boribori said.
“Huh? Well, I’m pretty confident with a sword. It might be difficult for now, but I’ll definitely become number one.”
“Sure, sure. Work hard.”
Ricart spoke as if he had no interest, poking at the campfire with a wooden skewer.
Ricart was currently number one in Beringen Academy’s pecking order, and since he was strong enough to kill one of the Nine Swords of the Empire, becoming number one among students was practically impossible.
Considering what had happened with his eldest brother in the past, Ricart might avoid a fight, but he would never deliberately lose one.
“Isn’t it a little early to go swimming?”
Boribori asked Marie, referring to her floundering about in the river.
“I just... wanted to get away...”
“You’ll die doing that.”
Ricart warned her. He was not expressing concern. It was a genuine warning.
“Sorry...”
“You don’t need to apologize to us. Anyway, let’s eat something, sleep early, and leave early tomorrow.”
“...Thank you.”
Ricart and Boribori decided to eat the heavier food first so they could lighten their load.
They roasted potatoes and sweet potatoes over the fire, adding flavor with small pieces of salted meat. It made for quite a good meal. Marie did not seem picky about food either.
After dinner, Ricart took off his cloak and draped it over Marie. Marie fidgeted for no reason, her eyes darting around.
“Th-thank...”
“Only say it sometimes.”
“Huh?”
“Say thank you and sorry only sometimes. If you say them too often, they lose their weight.”
“Okay...”
Then Ricart shared one cloak with Boribori. Leaning against the wall, they rested while watching the campfire.
Before long, the sky had turned black, and the stars sang silently.
Marie still had not fully relaxed, so she did not think she would be able to sleep properly. Sleeping outside itself was unbearably uncomfortable.
But when your body and mind were exhausted, and your stomach was full, sleep came before you knew it.
The sound of the campfire, crackle, crackle, was like a lullaby.
In the dim dawn of the following day, Ricart stamped out the cold fire. Then he spoke to Marie, who stood awkwardly in the clothes he had lent her. She was still wrapped in Ricart’s red cloak.
“Your gambeson isn’t dry yet, so I think I should wear the armor.”
A gambeson was a thick outer garment worn beneath armor. It offered some protection on its own, which was why many people favored it.
But since it was padded with cotton, even drying it by a fire made it difficult for the inside to dry completely in one night.
“O-okay.”
“You carry the helmet and gambeson.”
“Okay.”
Ricart put on the chain mail Marie had been wearing. After adjusting the belt around his waist, he handed the girl a sword.
“And this. Use it for now.”
It was Steiner’s sword. Marie had lost her sword and only had the scabbard left.
Judging from her scabbard, Ricart inferred that the sword Marie usually used was similar in size to Steiner’s.
“Don’t wear it at your waist. You should carry it over your shoulder like I do.”
“Okay.”
There was nothing wrong with wearing it at the waist, but the weight would be concentrated on one side, and she would tire quickly after walking for a long time.
Unless made to order, combat gear was generally designed for adult men, so carrying it in a way that suited one’s body was important. Marie’s armor was custom-made, but her sword was not.
Ricart explained everything to her, even the smallest details. He did not know how skilled she was with a sword, but her fieldcraft seemed lacking.
Fieldcraft was the overall ability to sleep, eat, walk, run, adapt to, and overcome every situation outdoors, rain or snow. It required physical strength, but mental strength was important too.
Swordsmanship was naturally important, but in real combat, fieldcraft mattered more. Many people died because they were too exhausted to properly display their skills.
On top of that, one needed sound judgment, decisiveness, focus, tactical understanding, courage, and patience to become an excellent fighter.
Ricart was strong not only because of his transcendent swordsmanship, but because no one could match him in all those abilities.
As they finished preparing to set out again, Ricart had one last thing to say to Marie.
“Put your hood up.”
“Huh?”
“You might attract pests for no reason.”
Marie panicked, thinking he meant she smelled.
But that was not it.
“You’re pretty.”
At Ricart’s words, Marie went rigid. No one had ever told her so directly that she was pretty.
She had heard empty, roundabout compliments and words laden with every kind of flowery embellishment, but never that.
Her face grew hot, but fortunately, it was still the dark dawn.
“U-uh...”
Marie put up her hood, trying to act as though nothing had happened.
“Let’s go.”
Ricart spoke indifferently as he started walking.
And so, the three of them walked toward Beringen Academy.
As they followed the road through the fields, the sun slowly rose. The field lit by dawn was the color of the sea. Then sunlight spread across it like a carpet, and greenery soaked with melting snow stretched before them.
Ricart and Boribori walked along, trading jokes and playing pranks on each other now and then.
Boribori said armor suited Ricart, and suggested he become a knight instead of an adventurer. He told him to start practicing riding a horse while he still could.
What made knights frightening was their horses. No matter how much mana a person cultivated, if a galloping horse struck them properly, every bone in their body would break and they would die.
Their mobility and usefulness in actual combat were also far greater than those of an ordinary swordsman. A knight was no different from a chariot that shattered formations.
But the skills needed to fight on horseback could not be mastered through one or two years of training. They were advanced combat techniques that required at least ten years, or even a lifetime, to hone.
The downside was that they cost a great deal of money. Buying a horse was expensive, but the cost of keeping one was no small matter either. It required pouring money into it.
Marie felt slightly left out, but the two boys were not deliberately excluding her, so she gradually grew closer to them. In fact, this was more comfortable for her than if they had fussed over her too much.
The two boys looked after Marie while pretending not to care.
Just like the Nameless One.
When Boribori imitated the way she spoke while pretending to be an adult man, Marie flusteredly told him to stop, and Ricart laughed loudly.
Their steps were lighter than when they had left the Academy. Marie also seemed less afraid of the uncertainty ahead.
When one was young, the scariest thing about going somewhere unfamiliar was having no one one knew and being alone.
The three took plenty of breaks as they walked. Before long, it almost felt as though they were on a picnic.
Later, perhaps because she had lowered her guard considerably, Marie laughed loudly too.
“Pahaha!”
Marie was dazzlingly beautiful when she laughed so freely. So much so that no one would notice her mismatched clothes and somewhat shabby appearance.
And though they had not noticed before, her slightly large front teeth, which brought rabbits to mind, were charming.
But the two pure-hearted boys simply treated Marie as she was rather than caring about her looks, and Marie was simply happy to be free from the suffocating life and formality of a cage.
Anxiety and excitement were separated by only the smallest difference. Thanks to the two boys, Marie could feel excited and thrilled rather than anxious.
However, as evening came and darkness began to settle over the world, their lighthearted pleasure seemed to vanish along with the bright sunlight.
Ricart and Boribori had already calculated the distance, so they arrived at a tavern and inn by the roadside at just the right time.
Its name was Anna’s Loss.
It was where they had first met the Nameless One after leaving the Academy in winter.
Something seemed to well up, while something heavy seemed to press down on their chest. Still, it did not show outwardly.
But Marie clearly sensed the subtle change, and so she fell silent too.
When they opened the tavern door, an unwelcome stench greeted them. The rough-looking, filthy people inside all turned their eyes toward Ricart’s group.
But Ricart simply strode over to the bartender, with whom he had briefly spoken around a month and a half to two months ago.
The bartender did not recognize him at first, but then seemed to remember.
“Huh? You guys.”
“It’s been a while. We’d like a meal and some rooms.”
“Uh... By the way, where are you coming from?”
“The north.”
“The north? Oh, right. Didn’t you say you were taking a request back then?”
“They’re dead.”
“Huh?”
“The Ernberg Five. They’re all dead.”
“...”
It was impossible to believe. It was even more impossible to believe that these two boys had done it. The bartender could only stare in confusion.
It sounded like a joke that was not even funny.
Then someone looked at Ricart and spoke.
“Hey, look at this. What’s a little knight doing here?”
Ricart had a build that no one could mistake for a knight’s, so armor made to fit his still-growing body did look somewhat ridiculous.
Ignoring the man, Ricart asked the bartender,
“Do you have rooms or not?”
“Huh? Yeah, we do, but this place is a little different from before now, so...”
The bartender could not finish. The person who had called out to Ricart rose from his seat and approached.
“I asked why you’re here, little knight.”
Ricart turned to face him. He was tall and broad-faced. It would have been one thing if he were merely teasing or playing a nasty prank, but it did not seem likely to end there.
“Bori, your sword.”
Ricart unfastened the sword slung over his shoulder and handed it to Boribori.
“Yeah.”
They no longer needed to say much to understand each other. Since the space was somewhat cramped, Ricart was borrowing Boribori’s sword.
Boribori took Ricart’s sword and handed his Ghost Sword to Ricart. Then he grabbed Marie’s arm and pulled her behind him.
Marie, still wearing her hood, looked around in confusion and growing fear. It was her first time in a place like this, full of foul smells and rough-looking people.
Holding the Ghost Sword in one hand, Ricart said,
“Quit beating around the bush and tell me what you really want.”
“What?”
“If you want our gear, just come at us. Don’t pick a fight first like a coward.”
“...Hah!”
The man let out a breath of disbelief. He turned and gave someone a signal, and the people seated at two tables rose all at once.
The bartender had already backed far away. Unlike two months ago, this was no longer neutral ground. In the underworld, territories changed hands often.
The Arisen Brotherhood was gone. There was only a new ruling force now.
And with it, the rules of the streets had changed.
The man turned back to Ricart.
“Fine. I’ll speak like a man. Hand over everything you have. Your money, equipment, everything.”
“Then take it if you can.”
Ricart drew the Ghost Sword in his hand like lightning.
The companions standing behind the man saw that Ricart had apparently done something, but they did not see exactly what.
A moment later, the man’s thick neck slowly tilted, then his head fell to the side with a thud.
At the same time, Ricart kicked the body, which was still standing. It toppled backward, and blood burst forth, spraying over the man’s companions.
Whether the sword was good or Ricart’s skill was, not a single drop of blood stained the Ghost Sword.
Ricart spoke.
“Next.”
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