WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 48

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There was a clearing between the Inner Castle and the girls’ dormitory, created by clearing away part of the forest. No one had officially decided it, but only the Academy’s so-called prominent students used the place.

Boribori was crouched near a patch of thick grass, watching something with an utterly pleased expression.

Pine nuts and beans lay in Boribori’s palm, and a squirrel was eating them. More precisely, it was not eating them, but storing them in both cheeks.

Boribori gently stroked the squirrel with only his thumb. Building trust and sharing a bond with an animal that could not speak was deeply moving.

Then a sudden metallic sound rang out, startling the squirrel into fleeing.

Clang!

Boribori flinched and turned around. Ricart and Marie stood there, with other students watching the two of them.

Ricart casually caught Marie’s practice sword as it flew through the air. Holding both swords in his hands, he spun them playfully and spoke to Marie, who was clutching her wrist in pain.

“Do you really have to take first place?”

Over the past month or so, it seemed they had already done this more than forty times. Even if he combined all his sparring matches with Ice, Volka, and the other students, he had sparred with Marie more often.

He had once let it go in one ear and out the other, but taking first place seemed truly important to Marie.

“Ugh... I told you. That’s why I came to the Academy.”

“Hmm... Then do you want me to just let you take first place?”

“I don’t want that.”

“Then why not wait until after I graduate?”

“I want that even less.”

What exactly was she asking for? Ricart had no intention of losing, and deliberately letting her win would be even crueler to Marie.

Still, one thing weighed on him. He wanted Marie to learn something, but that was not something he could decide for her.

Marie was calm and kind, but she was also strong-willed and knew how to resist injustice. On top of that, she had a certain pride, or perhaps stubbornness, when it came to swordsmanship.

Ricart wondered whether he should crush that stubbornness and make her come to her senses.

“It won’t be easy to throw away everything you’ve done until now and start something new, but it’s better to begin, even if slowly. You’ll never beat me with attacks that are only fast and strong. What’s the rush?”

At that question, Marie bit down hard on her lower lip. It seemed as though there was something she could not say, but Ricart had no way of knowing.

“Again.”

Marie spoke with her usual sharp gaze.

Ricart tossed her original practice sword back to her. Marie caught it lightly with her uninjured hand.

She took her stance again, and Ricart did the same.

Marie felt as though her heart had stopped.

Usually, Ricart only stood awkwardly, almost as though he knew nothing at all about swords.

But now, he was clearly different. His legs were spread front to back, his upper body angled toward his opponent, and his sword was raised beside his face.

More than anything, there was something in his cold eyes. Looking into them felt as though she would be pulled in, as though her body would freeze.

A blazing presence also seemed to follow the outline of Ricart’s body.

Marie bit her lip so hard it nearly bled. Then she pushed her mana to its limit. Her heart pounded powerfully, and blood rushed through her veins, carrying strength through her body.

Mana reached her fingertips, and the sword began to hold it as though it were an extension of her own limbs.

But mana was a power that had to be handled carefully. It was like violent water, like fierce fire. Mishandle it, and it could damage the veins or even injure the internal organs.

To gain greater power, one had to wield it roughly. To avoid harming the body, one had to handle it carefully. Finding that balance was truly difficult.

That was why it was even harder to control in real combat, where life and death were at stake.

Marie pushed her strength beyond its limit, then exploded forward and swung her sword upward at Ricart from below. It was no different from a flash of lightning, and the force behind it was like a boulder.

Yet in that brief instant, Ricart shifted slightly to the side and brought his sword down like lightning against Marie’s blade.

His sword held no mana.

Craang!

“Eek!”

Sparks flew as the swords collided. Then Marie’s blunt practice sword split in two. The impact that traveled through her hand was so powerful that Marie squeezed her eyes shut and dropped heavily to her knees.

“Whoa!”

“Gasp!”

The watching students cried out in admiration or sucked in sharp breaths without meaning to. It would have been difficult even with an edged weapon, yet Ricart had split it in two with a blunt practice sword.

More surprisingly, Ricart lightly caught the broken pieces spinning through the air without even looking at them.

Then he looked at Marie, still kneeling, and spoke.

“There used to be a guy named Ice. Marie, you’re basically a weaker version of him. Ice realized pretty quickly that attacking as fast and hard as possible wasn’t the answer. He just couldn’t find the answer after that.”

That was what he said, but his thoughts were different. To Ricart, there was not much difference between Ice and Marie. Still, Marie now seemed as though she was being chased by something.

Being compared to someone else wounded Marie’s pride beyond measure. She lowered her head, letting her long hair cover her face.

“I don’t know who that is.”

“It can’t be helped even if you don’t. You’re much worse than him.”

Ricart deliberately spoke coldly. He felt sorry inside, but he only hoped that this would calm her impatient heart, even a little. Only then could she improve.

Ricart threw his practice sword and Marie’s broken sword onto the ground, then turned away.

Clatter.

“Marie...”

Once Ricart left, Boribori approached Marie, who was still kneeling.

“Let me see your hand for a moment.”

With her head lowered, Marie weakly entrusted her hand to Boribori.

More carefully than he had handled the squirrel, Boribori examined Marie’s wrist. Fortunately, nothing appeared to be broken.

Boribori took out an herb good for bruises and chewed it into a paste. Then he carefully applied it to Marie’s wrist.

But drops of water fell onto Marie’s thigh.

They were tears.

It seemed the wound in her heart hurt more than her wrist.

There was nothing Boribori could do about that.

“Do you really have to take first place? Giving up a futile dream early is one option too.”

Whether he meant it as comfort or practical advice, Marie burst out laughing in the middle of her tears because it was so ridiculous.

“Hehe... Don’t make me laugh, Bori.”

“Hehehe.”

Since Marie no longer seemed quite so devastated, Boribori left her with the other girls and followed Ricart.

Thanks to that, Marie was eventually able to gather her aching heart and stand.

When she looked up, the sky was filled with gray rain clouds.

Spring rain fell.

Marie sat by the window with her chin resting on her hand, blankly watching the rain fall over the Academy courtyard.

Streams of water formed and ran through the drains. Energetic boys ran around laughing loudly, unconcerned about their clothes getting wet.

Soon, though, they too went inside the Inner Castle, leaving the rain-soaked courtyard full of nothing but loneliness.

Some people said their moods changed with the weather, but Marie was not like that.

Yet now, it felt as though rain was falling in Marie’s heart beneath that cloudy sky.

Old memories she did not want to recall rose through her mind like creeping smoke.

“You must become useful. Otherwise, there is no difference between you and a beggar on the street.”

It was as though her great-great-great-grandfather’s cold words echoed in her ears. That sort of treatment had not hurt her much, but there were words she truly wanted to erase from her memory.

“I live like this because of you. You should never have been born into this world. No one wanted you.”

Her mother had said those things to Marie, an innocent child, as though they were a habit. Whenever she heard them, it felt as though a knife had stabbed her through the heart.

Perhaps that was why she had devoted herself so fiercely to the sword, to become useful, to become someone needed by others.

The Lustful Emperor Claudius was famous for his vigorous libido. He had many children, and many bastards as well.

No one knew exactly how many bastards he had. Some said one hundred and fifty, while others said as many as four hundred.

Marie was one of them.

Both her father and mother came from noble blood, but theirs was an unblessed union, and her mother had been unmarried.

It was a birth no one had wanted.

Marie had grown up under the care of her maternal family, a family of swordsmen. Perhaps because she had sensed the uncertainty of her own position from a young age, she worked harder than anyone else. She never wasted a moment and honed her skills every day.

Then one day, as her ability was beginning to receive some recognition, she heard that the father she had never once met had formally registered her in his family.

At last, she received a name and became part of the imperial family.

Martelia von Nibelinger.

That was Marie’s full name, her true name.

Did that make Marie happy?

No.

After all, she was still a tool of the family.

The higher a noble’s rank, the more thoroughly and ruthlessly they treated their family members like tools.

There was no special reason she had been formally acknowledged. It was simply to show that the imperial family, too, was entering the Academy in order to encourage other nobles to do the same.

That was all.

Only then did Marie have a thought.

She wanted to escape.

She wanted to escape from all of it.

When she begged her great-great-great-grandfather, he smiled as though amused.

“There is a genius at Beringen Academy. Defeat that child and take first place, and then you may do as you please. On the other hand, if you cannot defeat that child, you will marry that child. That is the path that benefits me, the family, and the Empire.”

“...”

Patter patter.

With half-lidded eyes, Marie looked out at the rain falling over the Academy. Yet even that rain could not wash away her gloomy, tangled feelings.

Ricart’s cold gaze seemed to linger before her eyes. Whenever she remembered it, her heart ached.

Ricart was Marie’s close friend, a swordsman worthy of respect, and an insurmountable wall.

It was not simply a matter of talent or effort. His strength seemed beyond the realm of humanity. Defeating him appeared impossible.

More than that, the fact that Ricart could not use mana had completely shattered Marie’s fixed beliefs, making it feel even more hopeless.

Then what had all my efforts been for? Avoid attacks that are fast and strong? What could that possibly mean?

Yet that despair strangely made her happy, made her heart race, and made her endlessly sad.

Because she did not want to be tied to him that way.

Not that way...

Her pride in the sword, her desire to escape her fate, and her feelings for Ricart each became chains binding Marie.

The weight of an unspoken truth pressed down on her. Perhaps because of that, she found herself resenting Ricart, who had done nothing wrong, and thinking him cruel.

Even her unhappy days did not make her cry, but whenever she thought of Ricart, her chest felt tight and throbbed until tears seemed ready to come.

Marie did not know what those feelings meant.

The cloudy sky made night fall early. The dormitory room quickly grew dark, and the other girls began lighting lanterns one by one.

Marie was about to leave the window and go to bed when something caught her eye.

Two figures passed through the castle gate and entered the Academy.

Who could they be at this hour?

They wore cloaks that reached their feet and had their hoods pulled low, making them hard to recognize. They were a man and a woman, and judging by their height and build, both seemed to be adults.

Still wearing their cloaks, they stood in the rain and looked around the Academy courtyard once before heading toward the Inner Castle.

At that time, Ricart was on his bed, joking around with Boribori and the other boys as they prepared to sleep.

Then someone suddenly began pounding on the Inner Castle doors.

Bang! Bang!

He heard a student from another room running barefoot through the hall, and once the door opened, he heard outsiders entering.

Then one of them shouted loudly.

“Ricky! Ricky!”

All the boys gathered around Ricart’s bed turned to look at him at once.

Then the shout came again.

“Ricky! Come out, you little shit!”

Who could it be?

Confused, Ricart went outside in light clothes. There, he found two people standing in the central hall, soaked through.

They turned toward Ricart, and when one of them pulled back their hood, a broad smile spread across Ricart’s face.

“Volka!”

At that, Boribori immediately ran out as well, followed by a crowd of other students who knew Volka. The students who did not know him could only stare in confusion.

Ricart ran over barefoot and threw his arms around him, unconcerned about getting wet.

Volka laughed loudly. He had always been big, but in the time Ricart had not seen him, he had grown so much that he seemed to tower over most adults.

“Hahaha! You’re not a little kid, so why are you running at me?”

“Doesn’t Ricky look like he’s gotten taller?”

The person beside Volka was Delphi. She was now unmistakably a lady, with the relaxed air of someone who had gained experience.

“What brings you here? Haven’t you been busy lately?”

Ricart asked with a smile still spread across his face.

But Volka’s expression turned uneasy.

“Well, we’re in the same clan.”

“Right.”

“I think we need your help. Some Academy students might be called up soon. We want to take you with us before that happens.”

“...Ah.”

It seemed to be because of the guild war. The guild would not leave someone like Ricart sitting idle, but the Viola Clan desperately needed him too.

Volka and Delphi alone were far too short-handed to accomplish much in a war. They could not simply attach themselves to another clan and get pushed around from one side to the other.

“Sorry it’s not good news. Maybe I should’ve told you tomorrow. No, it’s kind of urgent. It’s raining, it’s nighttime, and I think we should leave.”

“No, it’s fine. Wait a moment. Bori, let’s pack.”

“Okay.”

There was no need for many words. Ricart immediately returned to his room and packed his belongings. He put on his red cloak and slung his meteoric iron sword over his shoulder.

Then he went outside with Boribori, following Volka and Delphi. The students could not understand what was happening and only stood there watching.

But just as Ricart crossed the courtyard and nearly reached the castle gate, someone called from behind him.

“Ricky!”

Ricart turned around.

Sure enough, it was Marie in her pajamas. She stood in the spring rain.

“Marie?”

“Where are you going?”

“Uh... It looks like I’ll need to fight. I’m sorry about today. I’ll go easier on you next time. Sorry.”

“...”

Those casual words of apology felt as though they washed away the heaviness in Marie’s heart. One look from him made her chest ache, yet one word from him made it feel as though a terrible illness had been cured.

Marie stood there blankly in the rain without realizing it.

Then she suddenly came to her senses and shouted.

“Wait for me! I’m coming too!”

Then she ran back into the girls’ dormitory.

“Who was that?”

Volka asked, unable to make sense of it.

“Ah, she’s a new student. She’s decent with a sword, but in real combat, who knows?”

“I could tell at a glance.”

Delphi spoke.

“Huh? Tell what?”

“Never mind. This isn’t something you say aloud. You really are a bad man, Ricky.”

“Huh? Me?”

Ricart was dumbfounded at being suddenly called a bad man.

In any case, Marie soon returned after packing her things.

Whether this was all right or not, Marie joined them, and the five of them left the Academy together.

Spring rain fell.

Rain fell upon their hearts as well.

But the world gave them no time to be gloomy or sad.

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