WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 49
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The Adventurer Guild building beneath the hill in Beringen City was as quiet as an empty house. There was not a single adventurer there, not even Dunkel.
Only the patter of rain could be heard outside. A young clerk sat before the fireplace, keeping watch over the building.
It seemed far too defenseless, but the real guild headquarters was inside the castle on the hill, so it did not matter if this place was robbed.
Especially when a war broke out between guilds, the location of the command center and gathering point were top-secret matters. No one but a fool would keep using their usual headquarters.
It was late at night. Perhaps midnight had already passed. Without being able to see the sky, there was no way to know for sure.
The young clerk was nodding off in the warmth of the fire when someone suddenly began pounding on the door, startling him awake. What was going on? They had said this place was safe.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Someone pounded on the door again. The clerk's heart pounded along with it.
He cautiously walked to the door and slid open the small window set into it so he could look outside. Cloaked figures stood beyond the door like messengers of death.
The person at the front lowered their hood, showed their face, and spoke.
“It’s me. Volka.”
It was a familiar face, and the clerk let out a breath of relief.
“Ah... Volka, you scared me. You should've said something first.”
“Idiot. What if the enemy heard my name? Just open the door.”
The clerk undid the lock and opened the door. Five people in soaking-wet cloaks stomped into the building. Water streamed from the hems of their cloaks.
Traveling all the way from the Academy in the rain for five or six hours was no easy task.
Perhaps because of that, Volka immediately went over to the fireplace, tossed on several logs, built up the fire, and removed his cloak to hang it beside the hearth.
Ricart, Boribori, Marie, and Delphi also took off their wet cloaks first and dried them by the fire. Just sitting down made their aching legs feel much better.
Volka leaned all the way back in his chair, tipped his head back, and propped both legs on another chair.
“Ah... This is nice. How did I keep traveling back and forth to that place? It’s fucking far. Seriously.”
Volka had traveled more actively and frequently than anyone between the Academy and the city, but now that he had graduated, he seemed to find it unbearable.
Once he had taken off his cloak, Ricart noticed Volka's unusual armor. Several iron plates joined together like an arthropod's shell covered his entire left arm.
It was not visible, but there were also iron plates beneath his clothes protecting his chest and stomach. It was armor that protected vital areas while preserving as much mobility as possible.
“Hey, take off all your gear and rest. You need to wipe yourself dry.”
Delphi said this as she sorted through her own equipment and belongings.
“After I rest a little.”
“Honestly, if I weren't here, you really would...”
As she spoke, Delphi stuck close to Volka and removed his equipment for him.
Ricart drew his sword first and tended to it. It was not particularly wet, but he wiped it down with a towel before carefully applying camellia oil. Marie and Boribori did the same.
They sat down for a moment to catch their breath when the young clerk spoke.
“Volka, do you want something to eat?”
“Is there anything left?”
Volka asked. Most of the needed supplies had been cleared out, so there was not much left here.
“Breadcrumb soup. The only bits in it are jerky. There are some potatoes too.”
“Let's have that, then.”
The clerk guarding the building alone brought out wooden bowls. Then he lifted the lid off the pot over the fire and ladled out the soup that had been simmering all along.
He handed them out, one bowl per person. Ricart took one as well, blew on it, and slurped it down.
It was just thin porridge with a moderately salty taste. More than being delicious, it simply warmed his stomach.
When Ricart was halfway through his bowl, he asked Volka a question.
Volka had already taken off his shirt and was drying himself with a towel. His chest and stomach were thick with hair.
“So where are we going?”
“Kaits. We'll join up with the Widowmaker Clan there. We don't have enough people to handle one front on our own.”
The Viola Clan had four members, making it the minimum-sized clan. Large clans could have several dozen members.
It was like how there were powerful nobles such as dukes and grand dukes, as well as minor nobles. A large clan could even control the entire guild.
Though rare, some clans left the guild entirely and became independent.
“What’s the mission?”
“Just guarding a route.”
“So it doesn't sound like any serious fighting has broken out yet?”
“I heard there have been sword fights here and there, but I don't think our side has many casualties. The guilds all seem to be watching each other.”
“Watching for what?”
“First, don't they need to figure out who’s an enemy and who’s an ally?”
Guilds could form alliances with one another. Of course, whether those alliances could be trusted depended on the guild masters' judgment.
“So a war is certain, but no one knows when it will truly begin.”
“Yeah. But lately, the signs have definitely been bad. More and more people are wandering around armed.”
“What kind of people are the Widowmakers?”
“Hot-blooded people. The problem is that they're idiots.”
Delphi, who had been tending to Volka's gear for him, answered instead.
“Ice is nearby too. I heard he’s already killed five enemies. That makes him the enemy’s number one target now.”
“If it's Ice, I guess that could happen.”
“Ice...”
Hearing the name of the person she had been compared to despite not knowing who he was, Marie murmured to herself. Volka and Delphi looked over at her.
“You're Marie, right? Sorry for the late introduction. I'm Volka.”
“I’m Delphi. Nice to meet you.”
“Hello, I’m Marie. I've heard a lot about you from Ricky and Bori.”
“Speak casually. There’s no need to stand on formality when we could die at any time. We only graduated recently too.”
“Volka, you make it sound so bleak. Come here, I'll comb your hair.”
Delphi said this as she took out a comb and walked behind Marie.
“Huh? Ah, thank you...”
“Don't thank me. Just speak casually.”
After tending to Volka's gear for him, Delphi approached Marie and combed her wet hair. She was such a kind person, always looking after others before herself. Her first impression had been a little fierce, though.
As Ricart warmed himself by the fire, he briefly reflected on the days he had spent with them. Then he turned to Volka and called out to him.
“But Volka.”
“Yeah, go on.”
“Do you think this war is worth fighting? Are you only doing it because you belong to the guild?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“If a new area of operation opens up, won't it need a new branch chief? I can't live as a sword-for-hire who gets called all over the place until I die. I need to start settling down and preparing for the future now. Honestly, the north isn't that great, but you have to seize an opportunity when it comes.”
“You think you'll become a branch chief after the war?”
“How would I know what the people above me will do? I make a living by the sword anyway. It's not like there’s much else I can do. Once I save enough money, I'll reclaim some empty land and build an estate of our own. I’ll live there with Delphi. Until we grow old and die.”
“...”
Delphi, who was combing Marie's hair, said nothing. She did not tease him as she usually would. Her face merely turned a little red.
“Volka sounds like an adult.”
Boribori said this as he ate another bowl of thin porridge. Volka simply leaned his head back against the chair again and chuckled.
“I have to look after you all too. I am the leader of the Viola Clan, after all. If you have nothing to do later, come plow fields at our estate.”
This time, Ricart chuckled. It had been that way since their Academy days, but Volka seemed to have a strong sense of responsibility.
“Let's rest here for a while, then leave in the morning. Anyone who wants to wash, wash. The water will be cold, of course. You know this isn't the time to be picky, right?”
Volka said. After warming themselves by the fire for a while, Ricart, Boribori, and Volka went to the well in the backyard.
The men roughly splashed water over themselves to wash, while the two women filled a bath basin with water and washed, though they could not heat it.
Afterward, they dried their clothes by the fire and went into separate empty rooms, men and women apart, to get at least a little sleep.
The sound of rain striking the roof and windows was an excellent lullaby, and they slept deeply, if only briefly.
Drip. Drip-drip. Drip...
When morning came, they gathered their gear and belongings again before heading outside. Clear skies greeted Ricart and his companions.
“Take care of yourselves.”
The young clerk said this. It was admirable that he guarded the building alone. Of course, he did not fight enemies. All he did was dust and clear away cobwebs.
The rain-soaked world looked fresher than usual, though the ground was muddy. Still, it was better once they left the city and walked across the fields.
The group headed southwest, following Volka and Delphi. Kaits was a kind of highland where no one lived.
However, there was an old defensive tower there that had fallen into ruin long ago after serving its purpose. Holding it would allow them to influence the surrounding area.
Anyone could come down from the high ground and ambush the roads at any time. If they could not hold that place, traveling itself would become difficult.
In short, it was an important strategic point.
Volka walked at the front, watching the surroundings, while Ricart walked at the very back. Though there were only five of them, they maintained a formation of their own.
The land was open in every direction, but that made it even more important to be careful.
Flat land was not truly flat everywhere. There were rises and dips that could not be seen from a distance but only became visible when one got close. Especially in spring and summer, when grass had grown tall, it was easier to hide a body.
Enemies could conceal themselves in places like that and launch surprise attacks, so they had to watch their surroundings even while crossing open ground.
Ricart remained alert as they traveled, but his sharp senses picked up nothing unusual.
The group quickened their pace, and by late afternoon, they reached terrain where short grass and rough rocks rose from gentle slopes. This was where Kaits began.
Yet after arriving safely all this way, they encountered five or six people. The others had been hidden behind the side of the mountain, only appearing when they rounded it.
They were armed, each with different equipment that reflected their own preferences. They were obviously adventurers.
They were about forty or fifty meters apart. Near, if one considered it near. Far, if one considered it far. Far enough to pass without paying each other any attention. Too far for an ambush. Close enough to hear a shout.
In other words, it was an awkward distance, meaning neither side had known of the other before meeting.
“Hey!”
“Who are you with?”
The other side shouted first. Should they fight here, or ignore them and head up first?
Volka immediately raised his head and looked up the road leading to the defensive tower. More people had appeared at some point and blocked the path.
They quietly watched what was happening below.
Just as the enemies began finding their lack of response suspicious, Ricart hurriedly shouted.
“Bravant!”
The Bravant Guild was, along with the Beringen Guild, one of the guilds closest to the central north. In other words, Ricart had quickly shouted the name because he thought there was no chance they would ever be on the same side.
The judgment itself was sound, but it was a flimsy lie.
“Bravant? Bravant is coming too? Hey! Not the guild! Tell us your clan!”
It seemed deceiving them would not work.
“Let's go up. Volka, clear the way. I’ll take the rear.”
Ricart spoke so only his own group could hear him.
“Yeah.”
Volka nodded. There was no time to argue. They could not run away from here, either. Shaking off pursuit would be more dangerous and difficult. It was better to break through ahead and quickly join the Widowmaker Clan at the defensive tower.
Without needing to discuss it further, Volka calmly started up the path. Neither side had drawn their blades yet.
When they came within a certain distance, the people above realized something was wrong and spoke.
“Don't come any closer. We’ll consider you enemies.”
“Hey! You there! Put down your weapons!”
“These bastards are from Beringen!”
That was when Volka charged the enemies above like a bull.
They were apparently not ordinary beginners either. In an instant, they drew swords, maces, and other weapons to meet him.
An enemy sword swung toward Volka at the front, but he deflected it with the iron armor on his left arm and simply rammed forward with his body.
Thud!
He shoved one arm between the enemy's legs, lifted them with his whole body, and threw them onto the slope where the other enemies stood.
“Whoa!”
“Damn it!”
“Stop them! Don't let them get through!”
Several enemies toppled over in a heap because of the person Volka had thrown, but those still standing desperately tried to stop Ricart's group.
Volka drew the short, broad sword at his waist. Then he fought with reckless aggression. He got in close, punched them, grabbed and threw them, or stabbed them with his sword.
Such a rough fighting style inevitably left openings, but Delphi filled them brilliantly.
After one fierce exchange, Volka broke through the enemies.
Marie and Boribori quickly followed behind him. As Ricart, with his scabbard slung diagonally across his back, moved last to follow them, an enemy came sprinting over and tried to stab Ricart in the back.
But Ricart suddenly spun around as though he had eyes in the back of his head and swiftly swung his sword.
Clang!
The enemy's sword broke, and Ricart's meteoric iron sword sliced through the enemy's jaw and throat at the same time.
“Ghk!”
Though one had gone down, enemies rushed Ricart from both sides. The broken sword was still in the air.
There was a slight difference in timing between the attacks from either side. Ricart met the attack coming first from the right by thrusting his own sword straight forward.
Clang!
Metal rang out again. As the attack from the left cut through empty air, Ricart twisted his wrist to free his locked blade, then immediately swung it.
Whoosh!
The enemy standing close to him was decapitated, while the enemy on the left had their throat severed. He had slashed down two people with a single stroke.
The broken sword that had been spinning through the air finally struck a rock.
Clang!
The enemies who had been charging after them hesitated at what had happened in the blink of an eye. Ice had made a name for himself by killing five enemies, but Ricart had arrived and cut down three at once.
Standing on the gently sloping hillside with his bloodstained sword in hand, Ricart looked down at the enemies. The wind blew, making his red cloak flutter slightly.
One of the enemies who saw him seemed to realize something in an instant. Pointing at Ricart, the person shouted loudly.
“You! Red cloak! Red Cloak Ricky!”
“You know me?”
Ricart asked in confusion after killing three people in an instant. But the person did not answer. Instead, like a shepherd calling out that a wolf had appeared, they ran across the highland field and shouted.
“It’s Ricky! Red Cloak Ricky!”
The other enemies fled after them in a rush. Volka, Delphi, Boribori, and Marie, who had been climbing higher, turned around in confusion. Ricart himself was the most confused of all. What was wrong with them?
The enemies kept shouting the same thing.
“It’s Red Cloak Ricky!”
“Ricky is here!”
Ricart did not particularly want to chase the enemies, but he wondered who they were shouting to. So he ran after them across the highland field.
When he rounded the side of the mountain, he involuntarily drew in a sharp breath.
Gasp!
Far below the highland, there were easily more than a hundred people swarming together.
Volka and the rest of the group, who had followed behind, were just as shocked by the sight.
“My god...”
“What is this... Are they really fighting a war?”
A guild war was different from a true war. It was simply swordsmen killing one another in sword fights here and there. At most, only a few dozen people would be involved.
Guilds differed in size, but even a guild capable of gathering around a hundred people would not normally gather them all in one place at once. It appeared that several guilds had formed an alliance.
In any case, it was clear that things were becoming serious.
The enemies who had met Ricart's group ran toward the crowd of adventurers, continuing to shout. Ricart's name spread in every direction across the highland.
“It’s Red Cloak Ricky!”
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