WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 55

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When ten people gathered, about two of them were brave. At most, three.

If those ten people fought another group, the two or three brave ones generally took the lead, while the rest merely followed behind them.

Once those two or three brave people died, the rest naturally scattered. Therefore, when fighting ten enemies, there was no need to kill all ten.

Just two. Or three. If the core fighters were neutralized or driven away, the battle was effectively won.

The death of even one upper rank adventurer was a great blow and burden to a guild. Those upper rank adventurers were what determined a guild's reputation and standing.

But when a hundred brave people gathered, one of them was a hero.

On a night with an unusually bright full moon, ten upper rank adventurers died all at once. Before that, more than one or two had died in duels as well.

They did not all belong to the same guild, of course, but it was still no small number.

Thus, the attempt to seize the Kaits Highlands naturally fell through, all because of one young hero.

The guild alliance, which had never trusted one another much to begin with, broke apart, and each guild withdrew from the war.

They had enough on their own plates now. They had poked at something because it looked like easy pickings, only to get badly burned and return home.

But the war was not over. The guild alliance, including the Heigen Guild, had really only come to pick up scraps.

The Beringen Guild had other true enemies. They were the guilds around Sigpringer, led by Brabant.

That was why the Beringen Guild's command could not properly support the Kaits Highlands.

They had other enemies they truly needed to face. They could not commit their forces to people who had only come to pick up scraps.

Still, those people were not weak enough to ignore, and just as the command was racking its brains over the problem, the young hero appeared.

And word of that young hero spread beyond the guilds to the common people.

The tale of how he had executed the infamous Ernberg Five, fought twelve duels, and cut down ten swordsmen bent on revenge passed from mouth to mouth.

As rumors always did, the stories gained embellishments. Sometimes they became harrowing and tragic, sometimes thrilling and satisfying.

In taverns and on the streets, children and adults alike, rich and poor, highborn and lowborn, from prostitutes to noble ladies, whispered the young hero's name.

Ricky. Ricky. Ricky...

There was power in that name. Hearing it, saying it, made hearts pound.

With admiration, anguish, and exhilaration.

Of course, people believed what they wanted to believe, and much of what they imagined had little to do with the truth. That was why the stories were far removed from the actual events and the people involved.

Then how did the owner of that name, whispered by so many, feel now? What was in his heart?

Only he could know.

And it was something he had to bear alone.

The wind blew, making the red cape flutter. Ricart's back, standing at the edge of the cliff, looked somewhat precarious.

One misstep, or a push against his unguarded back, and he could fall straight down.

Yet whether he could not think of such danger or simply did not care, Ricart let his hair blow in the wind as he looked toward the gentle ridge in the distance.

“Ricky.”

A familiar voice came from behind him. Ricart turned to find Boribori.

“Did you fight with Marie?”

Ricart smiled without meaning to. Boribori must have asked because the two of them had seemed awkward around each other lately.

“No.”

“No? Hmm, it doesn't seem like that's true...”

Boribori furrowed his brow, put a hand to his chin, and sank into thought with what he considered a serious expression.

Ricart almost laughed at the innocent sight, but he did not want to go into every little detail of things between a man and a woman. Then again, perhaps he could tell Boribori a little.

“We can't become closer than friends. Maybe things will be all right after some time passes. It's not something I can do anything about.”

Boribori's eyes widened.

“Closer than friends? Is that possible?”

“I don't know. I don't really know either.”

“So there are things Ricky doesn't know. If you're worried about something, tell me. I'll listen.”

Boribori had grown into someone dependable before Ricart knew it. Perhaps he had changed after meeting the Nameless One.

Ricart and Boribori had gone beyond a relationship where one simply led and the other followed. Now, they were friends who supported each other as equals.

“...Yeah. Thanks.”

“You'll keep being close with Marie anyway, right?”

“I hope so too. But I can't force her...”

“I should go tell her.”

“What? Hey. Hey!”

Boribori turned and trotted off. Ricart called after him urgently, but Boribori did not look back.

Near the defense tower, Marie sat beside Delphi, talking with her. It looked as if she were receiving counsel, or perhaps comfort. Delphi's hand gently stroked Marie's back.

Boribori ran to Marie and stubbornly pointed toward Ricart as he said something to her.

Ricart's face immediately grew hot at the sight. Telling Boribori felt like the greatest mistake of his life.

Boribori, you betrayed me...

Yet Marie's expression did not change much. She merely glanced at Ricart with a blank face, then turned her head toward the distant gentle ridge.

Boribori ran back to Ricart.

“Marie says she understands. I think you can keep being close.”

“Hey... You...”

“Why?”

“...Never mind...”

What was the point of getting angry at Boribori for acting out of kindness and concern? Ricart only decided never to tell him about such things again.

As he looked down below the cliff, the bustling crowd had disappeared, leaving only trash scattered throughout the valley.

It meant there was nothing left to see, and that the battle here had ended.

It had always been a deserted place where few people came, so after the fighting ended, the Kaits Highlands became quiet again.

From a strategic standpoint, they had defended the rear well. Now Ricart wondered whether there was any need to defend this place any longer.

It had been four days since they had reported the news of victory, and Ricart and his friends were waiting for someone from the command to arrive.

That person arrived after noon, making their way up the Kaits Highlands through the short grass.

To Ricart's surprise, it was someone he knew.

“Sandy?”

“Wow, our junior young master has really grown up. Making your big sister run errands for you now?”

Had it been two years? Sandy smiled brightly and spoke playfully, unchanged in the slightest. She was still a beauty with brown hair tied tightly high behind her head and slightly upturned eyes.

Happy to see her, Ricart gave her a light hug.

But the moment they parted, he sensed something troubling and turned around. Marie had lowered her head and was huffing to herself as though holding back her anger.

Ricart realized what had happened and hurriedly spoke.

“Th-that is Sandy. She took me from Rainfurt to the Academy. That's all. She's someone I know. An older senior, that's all.”

The words came out like an excuse before he knew it. Marie kept her head lowered as she drew deep breaths and barely calmed herself down.

Then Sandy looked between Ricart and Marie, immediately caught on, and grinned.

“I told you, didn't I? I said you'd make lots of women cry.”

Ricart could only give an awkward smile. It wasn't lots...

Of course, if Daisy was included, there were two women he had made cry, but Ricart had completely forgotten about Daisy.

Like the experienced senior adventurer she was, Sandy gave Marie some advice born of experience.

“Don't make it so obvious. That'll only make other women go after him more.”

But it did not seem like the right time for advice. Marie looked at Sandy with the sharp gaze she showed in battle and snapped back.

“What about me? Don't act like you know me.”

“Hmm... Looks like you were dumped not long ago. You should tone down that venom. It's a shame to see such a pretty lady acting like this.”

“What? Hah!”

Marie seemed so dumbfounded that she could not speak. She was still too young to match Sandy with words.

Feeling as if cold sweat might break out, Ricart forced himself to introduce the others in an attempt to smooth things over. A woman's instincts were more frightening than the sharpest blade.

“Uh, shouldn't we introduce ourselves first? This is Boribori, this is Volka, our clan master, this is Delphi, and... this is Marie.”

Sandy looked at Marie with an amused, almost affectionate gaze before turning to the others.

“I'm Sandy of the Fighting Cock Clan. I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Volka.”

“Me? Not Ricky?”

“Wouldn't the person leading Ricky's clan be famous? And Boribori, you're much cuter than I expected. I heard you enjoy chopping people into pieces.”

“Uh... I don't enjoy it...”

Perhaps Boribori was the one suffering most from the rumors. People practically thought he was a crazed murderer.

“Anyway, things are crazy lately. Whenever two adventurers get together, all they talk about is your clan. And what is it with last year's graduates? That Ice fellow too. I hear dealing with the enemies is hard enough, and the Master can't handle all of you.”

“What do you mean, the Master can't handle us?”

Ricart did not like the sound of that.

“Maybe the pie is only so big, and the Master can't decide how much to give you? I heard the command is even saying they should stop giving you missions. I don't know the details.”

Every organization had internal circumstances. Influence and power within the organization could create factions.

Those factions could help one another develop through competition, but they could also eat away at an organization from within.

It was a troublesome matter, but as long as humans lived in societies, it was unavoidable. It had always been a problem, regardless of culture or era.

A thousand years ago and a thousand years from now, factional struggles existed and would continue to exist. The heart of the problem was how to divide limited resources and power.

The Beringen Adventurer Guild had the same problem. There were clans and upper rank adventurers who already held influence within the Beringen Guild, and then Ricart and the Viola Clan had suddenly risen to prominence.

The guild had used them because the war made their help urgently necessary, but once it could breathe a little easier, the question became how much reward they should receive.

Give them too little, and they would be dissatisfied. Give them too much, and the existing factions would receive less.

How nice it would be if rewards could simply be distributed fairly according to each person's achievements, but the world was not that simple.

There were two things in the world that made people lose their heads.

Power and money.

Once those two were involved, reason no longer worked.

It was not rare for everyone to become both wronged victims and vicious perpetrators, driving one another mad.

Kings killed their children, and princes rebelled. When power and money were at stake, people would no longer recognize even their own parents and children.

“So?”

Ricart asked, sensing an ominous whiff.

“Leave this place to the pig. The Master wants to see you all. I came to deliver that message.”

The pig Sandy meant was Reinhart, the clan master of the Widowmaker Clan. Perhaps someone who lived as simply and foolishly as he did was actually the wisest.

“How are things over there? They didn't tell me when I visited before.”

Volka asked.

“At first, they wanted to divide the region into three. But Ice's accomplishments were greater than expected. So they considered splitting it in two, but then they heard things had been settled here. I think they changed their minds and thought that if Ricky came too, they might be able to take it all. At least, that's what it looks like to me. I don't know exactly what the command is thinking.”

“...That won't do.”

Ricart muttered after hearing Sandy's words.

“Hmm?”

“That isn't how you fight a war. You set a clear objective, and once you achieve it, you end things cleanly. If you drag things out thinking, ‘We could keep going,’ or ‘It might not be enough yet,’ you won't even break even.”

Ricart had seen many operations ruined that way in his previous life. Whenever something went wrong, that kind of complacent thinking from the commander was always where the problem began.

“I don't like it much either, but what can we do? We aren't the ones making the decisions. Guilds were never trustworthy. If you expect anything from them, they always disappoint you. The only thing you can trust is your clan. That's how everyone lives. Still, Ricky, you're such an unprecedented case that even I don't know what will happen.”

“...”

There was no point in arguing with Sandy about it, so Ricart held his tongue.

Looking through history, there had been many cases where someone caused trouble by achieving too much. From above, it was a problem if those below were incompetent, but it could also be a problem if they were too capable.

Ricart had never met the Guild Master, so he did not know what sort of person he was. Because of that, he could not guess how things would unfold.

Still, he was not entirely without something to rely on. He had been told to get in touch if he ever had trouble, so perhaps he could do that if necessary.

In any case, Ricart ate with Sandy, told Reinhart that they were leaving, and departed the Kaits Highlands with everyone else.

They headed for Sigpringer, where Ricart had spent the past winter with Boribori and the Nameless One.

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