WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 45

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“There’s such a thing as an escrowed reward. There’s a request, but the requester cannot be identified. Not just anyone can make one. Only people or groups with considerable standing can. Rumors get around, but there’s no way to know for sure. So, if you really completed the request, the escrowed reward will be paid out.”

Dunkel spoke while seated before a small table in the room where Ricart had spent the night. The room was filled with a soft white light that was easy on the eyes.

Ricart and Boribori sat on the bed and listened. Boribori was clearly lost in thought, though, so Ricart was the only one truly paying attention.

“So it needs to be verified, beyond the evidence we brought.”

Dunkel nodded at Ricart’s words.

But there was a more serious problem than the request right now. Dunkel swallowed hard before speaking.

“Are you certain X the Nameless and Mad Dog Steiner are dead?”

Instead of answering, Ricart slightly drew Steiner’s sword, which lay on the bed, and showed it to him. As sunlight through the window brushed across it, a faint blue sheen ran along the blade.

He sheathed it again and said, “This is the sword Steiner used.”

“...”

It had been shocking enough to hear that Erze and Reto had been killed. What came afterward was even more shocking. Dunkel was still so stunned that he could barely speak.

Ricart’s incredible accomplishment was one reason he took this so seriously, but there was another reason as well.

“Is the guild suddenly about to go under or something? What’s wrong?”

At Ricart’s question, Dunkel barely calmed his still-pounding heart.

“It’s a power vacuum. The Ernberg Five held territory in the central north. Passing through was one thing, but the Adventurer Guild couldn’t just establish branches there and operate as it pleased. But now that they’re gone, what do you think will happen?”

The Nameless One had no territory in particular. He had merely wandered across the Empire, hunting wanted criminals or taking revenge on his enemies.

The Ernberg Five, on the other hand, had their own sphere of activity, including Sigpringer. And now that territory was empty.

In other words, land without an owner had appeared.

Of course, there were lords who ruled those places, as well as criminal organizations that operated in the shadows. But the Adventurer Guild was an independent force that straddled both the open and hidden worlds.

Securing a sphere of activity meant more than earning money. It meant making use of its logistics, manpower, and more.

And in an age when the roads connecting city to city were more important than anything, having a wider territory also meant drastically reducing transportation costs.

Acquiring a new sphere of activity would bring benefits in every respect. More importantly, those benefits would not be one-time gains, but sustainable ones.

“So the question is who will take it.”

Ricart immediately understood, and Dunkel nodded again with a grave expression.

“You remember the trouble we had with those Rubens bastards before. Matters like that can be more or less settled and covered up. But not this. We could deploy our forces, no, we have to deploy them. The summons has already gone out. Clan masters, clan leaders, and every adventurer of intermediate rank or above are gathering.”

It meant a guild war might break out.

No, it seemed nearly certain.

It was ironic. People dying could be brushed aside, but a war would break out over interests.

“So we must be careful, but swift. Tell me where the work was done. The guild will verify the facts, then make its move. Since we learned this first, we have to use that time as best we can. And naturally, this is top secret. Don’t tell anyone.”

Ricart was not the sort to brag about what he had done, so he nodded at once. Still, his heart felt somewhat heavy.

The guild master and the guild’s upper ranks were likely in meetings so intense their heads would split. Whether to strike a hostile organization first, claim the central north first, launch a two-pronged operation, and so on.

But was it really that important?

Important enough for young people to spill their blood?

The question arose in his mind, but asking the guild master would not bring an answer. The guild master had duties to fulfill, and it would be foolish not to move now.

Whether he intended it or not, what Ricart had accomplished over the winter was causing an upheaval.

His efforts to save the Academy students from starvation now seemed likely to call down a bitter wind instead.

When did the most people die?

Perhaps when the balance of power shifted and the map of influence changed.

Because the future was at stake.

Would they be overpowered and live in humiliation? Or would they seize the advantage and secure their authority?

Fear of vanishing because one lacked strength. Desire to gain strength and survive. Whether to wage war or not was not a matter that could be settled with words.

Listening to the situation unfold, Ricart understood that.

“Reto and Erze’s bodies should be near Reto’s laboratory in Sidria, unless someone tampered with them in the meantime. The rest are in a ruined village called Lindveil. The nearest city is Rigenhafen. Go north from there, and you’ll find it. But I can’t tell you where I buried the Nameless One. That’s deeply personal. Please understand.”

The most important matter was confirming the deaths of the Ernberg Five, so Dunkel readily nodded.

Verifying their deaths meant exactly that, verification. The fact that Steiner’s sword and Ghost Sword were in someone’s possession convinced Dunkel that every one of the Ernberg Five was dead.

“But, um...”

Boribori, who had listened quietly until now, spoke up. Given the gravity of the situation, the mood was serious, but Boribori did not seem to understand that from the look on his face.

“If skilled adventurers are gathering, will we get to see Volka, Ice, and the friends who graduated first?”

The innocent question made Dunkel feel as though he could breathe again, and he smiled gently instead.

“They won’t stay in the city long. Once the people above make their decision, they’ll be sent into the field. If things happen to overlap, you might see them. If not, you won’t. We have to move quickly. If too many people start moving, the other guilds will notice something is wrong.”

“Is there something I need to do separately?”

Ricart asked.

“No. It isn’t that I don’t trust you, but... how should I put this? For now, you’re someone we need to watch. Both inside and outside the guild. Stay at the Academy for a while. You’ve now effectively gone beyond being a student. Do you know what that means?”

“It means walking on a blade’s edge.”

Ricart looked out the window as he spoke. His previous life came to mind. A life spent walking on a blade’s edge. It was familiar, but not welcome. Had nothing changed? He did not know.

“Right... Then rest. Don’t think about anything else. And... I’m a little afraid of you now.”

It felt like something he had not needed to say. But it was honest.

Ricart continued looking out the window and merely smiled faintly.

Dunkel could not tell what that smile meant. He had killed a Sword Master at twelve? What would happen when he became an adult? Would he grow even stronger? Was that even possible?

Perhaps he was witnessing the beginning of a legendary hero.

For Dunkel and the guild alike, figuring out how to handle Ricart was one of their most serious concerns. He was, quite literally, far beyond common sense.

Dunkel left the room filled with clear white light.

The moment he was gone, Boribori, apparently uncomfortable sitting up, flopped down on the bed. Moving his legs back and forth in alternation, he asked Ricart, “What are you going to do when you get the escrowed reward?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“What about buying clothes for all the Academy kids?”

“Hmm?”

“They could all wear the same clothes. The girls’ would be a little different, of course. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Ricart briefly imagined all the students wearing the same clothes. He could not picture it well because he had no idea what they would wear.

Still, Boribori seemed to have a knack for sewing and a fondness for flowers, and things like that.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

Ricart agreed lightly, without much thought. Boribori was already grinning as though it amused him, and Ricart smiled along with him.

The light in the room was clear, but the winds of war were gathering in the distance. They could not simply laugh without care, but sometimes a light decision lasted longer.

Ricart and Boribori took Marie around Beringen.

Just as Volka had once done, they taught her about the districts divided into east, west, south, and north, what to be careful of, and where the main shops were.

They sold the armor and bought clothes and other necessities for Academy life. The cloth merchant looked puzzled when they sold the surcoat, but they still got a decent price for it considering it was used.

They could have bought Marie a sword, but she decided to keep Steiner’s sword for the time being.

“I’ll give it to you if you take first place. Until then, I’m only lending it to you.”

“Doesn’t that mean I have to beat you, Ricky?”

“I suppose it does. Anyway.”

“Still, this seems like a pretty good sword. I know enough to tell.”

“It’s almost a problem that it’s too good. There isn’t anywhere suitable to sell it.”

Honestly, it was a bother. Going all the way to a large city and putting it up for auction was a whole process.

Ricart had considered selling it through the guild, but with things as they were, the guild did not seem to have the capacity for that.

“Thanks. Can I give it a name?”

“What name? To what?”

“To the sword.”

“That’s the kind of thing only girls do.”

“...What?”

“Oh.”

Ricart realized at once that he had misspoken. Marie was a girl.

“Sorry.”

But Marie did not seem to mind at all. She gave him a playful smile.

“Then it’s fine, since I’m a girl. I’ll call it Ricky. The famed sword, Ricky.”

“Ha ha...”

Ricart could only laugh awkwardly, feeling sorry.

“What? Me too, me too. I want to give mine a name too.”

While Ricart was at a loss, Boribori eagerly joined in.

“It already has a name, doesn’t it? Ghost Sword.”

“No. That’s not my style. What should I call it? Hmm... Nameless Sword. Nameless Sword is good. Its name is that it has no name.”

“...”

Knowing the story behind it, Ricart could not casually joke about it. For a moment, he did not know what to say.

But Boribori was not sad or downcast. He was simply excited. As if to keep that excitement going, Boribori spoke to Ricart.

“Ricky, you should name yours too.”

“I’m not interested. It’s fine.”

“They say you should treat a sword like your best friend, or your most beloved lover. Wouldn’t it be nice to give it a name at least?”

Marie supported Boribori’s suggestion. Ricart did not know where she had heard such a thing, but Marie had a somewhat old-fashioned side.

“No. There’s no need to indulge in that kind of sentiment. A sword is just a sword.”

“Sometimes, Ricky, you talk like a little old man.”

“Me?”

Ricart’s eyes widened at Marie’s blunt accusation. Boribori laughed loudly, saying she was right.

Perhaps because the three had endured hardship together while sleeping outside, they already seemed close after only a few days. Of course, that was only possible because they got along in some ways. Still, they did.

Their conversation never stopped, and none of them hesitated to tease the others. The ones being teased only laughed it off as well.

When Marie bought clothes, Boribori got involved and recommended a dueling outfit similar to riding clothes. He probably wanted to use it as a reference later, when buying clothes for the Academy students.

Marie was tall, making her an excellent model. And in slightly fitted clothes, her trained figure showed clearly. Her firm thighs, slender ankles, and straight waist made it seem as though she could wield a formidable sword.

Not everyone was like that, but perhaps one could roughly judge someone’s skill just by looking at their usual posture. Ricart could, at least.

They bought clothes for fighting, training, and several everyday outfits. Since they had sold the armor, they had money to spare. It was not much of a burden.

The three ate fresh chicken soup and bread at the guild building, then set off for the Academy.

They traveled along a road through the fields. The wide, damp fields stretching out so refreshingly seemed to be the finest around here. Even some of the flowers Boribori liked were blooming here and there.

Violets, daffodils, starbellflowers... Wait. Violets were one thing, but why did I know these?

After walking for six hours, they reached the Academy around evening. The air was cold, but the large moonflower rising over the distant field gave off a gentle feeling.

With stars overhead, they climbed the long cliffside stairs, passed through the gate, and finally arrived at the Academy.

Ricart pointed to one of the buildings in the courtyard and told Marie, “That’s the girls’ dormitory. The boys stay in that one. Maybe no one came to greet us because it’s nighttime. The students on watch duty will come out soon. Anyway, I guess we’ll see each other again tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“It’s nothing. If anything is hard, tell me anytime.”

“Okay.”

Ricart smiled faintly and entered the Inner Castle with Boribori.

But something about the mood felt strange.

One of the students walking through the corridor spotted Ricart and cried out in surprise.

“Ricky!”

“It’s been a while. Have you been well?”

Ricart only offered a casual greeting, but at the sound of his name, students suddenly poured out of the dormitory. They rushed at Ricart as if trying to cling to him.

“Ricky!”

“What’s gotten into you all?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Not me. I knew Ricky would survive.”

“Thanks to you, not many kids died.”

“Where did you go? What did you do?”

Ricart was bewildered enough to wonder if he had really been this close to the other students.

But it did not feel bad.

I’m glad they’re doing well. That means I accomplished what I set out to do.

Pride showed through his awkward, embarrassed smile.

Still, everyone was saying only what they wanted to say, so he did not know how to respond.

And with the students blocking him, it was difficult for Ricart to get back to his room.

But when he reached it, Ricart saw something strange.

There should have been twenty people staying in every room, yet only around ten were inside.

On top of that, the upper sections of all ten bunk beds had been torn off.

The ten students inside looked at Ricart. The students who had surrounded him fell silent and stepped back.

Something was wrong.

Ricart silently looked over the ten students, took off the sword hanging from his shoulder, handed it to anyone nearby, and entered.

“Where did my bed go? And who are you?”

“Are you Ricky?”

One student answered. He was neatly dressed overall, and unlike the ordinary students, his clothes looked expensive.

“Who are you?”

Ricart asked.

The student curled his lips in a sneer.

“I am Carlich, fourth son of the proud Rosten family. Nice to meet you, but we’d like to rest quietly right now. Would you leave?”

He was a noble.

They had said nobles were coming, and it seemed they had enrolled while Ricart was away.

But Ricart only stared at Carlich as though asking what he was supposed to do about it.

Then he spoke.

“Have you gone through initiation?”

“Pfft. We have no desire to take part in such a lowly event.”

“That’s unfortunate. It isn’t up to you whether you take part.”

“What?”

The instant Carlich frowned and asked again, something flashed before his eyes.

Smack!

A terrifying slap sent Carlich sprawling to the side.

The students who had been half lying or sitting on the beds sprang to their feet, while those leaning against the wall pulled away from it.

And all the students watching outside the room drew in a breath.

Gasp.

He had struck a noble. That was a serious crime.

But Ricart’s initiation was not over.

“We’re not done yet.”

He grabbed the fallen Carlich by the hair and slapped him across both cheeks again.

“Y-you... Wait!”

Smack! Smack!

After two more slaps, Carlich’s eyes lost focus as he nearly passed out. Blood mixed with saliva streamed from his torn mouth.

Ricart kicked and stomped on him.

Thud! Thud! Whump!

“You weak bastard. Next? Anyone else not gone through initiation?”

Ricart looked over the remaining noble students.

“Y-you, you, you...”

The other noble students stammered, too shocked to speak.

Ricart walked up to the nearest one and delivered a powerful low kick.

Whump!

“Argh!”

The student dropped with his mouth hanging open after a single blow.

Ricart continued beating him.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“You bastard!”

Someone shouted.

Then they all rushed him at once, which only shortened the initiation.

Like a raging tiger, Ricart beat every one of them down.

Thud! Crunch! Whump! Thud! Thud!

The sounds of students being beaten echoed through the quiet Inner Castle.

The ordinary students watched in silence.

Then Carlich, who had barely regained his senses, spoke with both cheeks badly swollen.

“Y-you bastard. Do you know who my father is? You would do this to a noble...”

Without saying a word, Ricart kicked the half-risen boy once more.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

Then he grabbed Carlich by the hair, dragged him outside, opened the Inner Castle’s door, and threw him out.

Pointing at Carlich, who lay there miserably, he said, “Bring your father here. Until then, you can’t come inside.”

“W-wait, wait.”

Slam.

Ricart coldly shut the Inner Castle’s door.

Badly beaten and left outside, Carlich felt his life threatened by the chilly cold. Forgetting all about his status, he banged on the door and begged.

“H-hey. Wait a moment. Hey.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

But no one inside answered.

Ricart returned to the room and spoke to the remaining noble students.

“You tore apart the beds, so sleep on the floor until you restore them yourselves or pay to have them restored. Anyone have a complaint?”

“...”

The students groaning on the floor could not raise a single complaint.

If they so much as opened their mouths, they might end up like Carlich.

Before overwhelming violence, status meant nothing. Everyone was equal.

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