WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 56

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Sigpringer was a province in the north-central Empire, ruled by the Sigpringer ducal family.

The province had one large city and several small and medium-sized cities. Ricart and Boribori had mainly operated with the Nameless One in around four of those smaller cities, including Lunenberg.

Over the past winter, they had avenged the Nameless One and, in the process, destroyed several Thieves’ Guilds and criminal organizations.

So even before they fought in the Kaits Highlands, Ricart and Boribori had become fairly well known throughout Sigpringer.

Here, they were called the Heroes of Sigpringer, or the Sigpringer Trio. Ricky of the Red Cape, Boribori of Fivefold Dismemberment, and X the Nameless.

Following Sandy past a small city, Ricart felt a sense of familiarity. He was reminded of the previous winter he had spent with the Nameless One. Yet they were not simply beautiful memories. They felt more like something wistful.

Because the Nameless One was gone now. Winter had passed, and even spring was nearing its end.

Ricart could almost see them walking this road together. Despite the bitter cold, Boribori had laughed especially often back then. Now, the weather itself was warm.

He did not feel empty or depressed. He thought white mourning clothes suited mourning the Nameless One better than black ones.

He had been saved. There was no reason to grieve. That was what Ricart thought, and Boribori felt the same.

Yet now, in a new season and with new people, they were passing through a place filled with memories of that past winter.

That did not mean the past was being covered up or erased. More was simply being added on top of it, layer by layer.

Of course, there was no way to know yet whether what lay ahead would become fond memories or memories they never wanted to recall.

“Ricky.”

Marie’s voice pulled Ricart from his thoughts. When he turned, she shyly held something out. Several bright red raspberries rested in her palm.

“Thanks.”

Ricart took one and ate it. The little beads of the raspberry burst in his mouth, spreading sweet and tart flavor across his tongue.

Then he sensed something strange and looked back. Volka, Delphi, and Boribori were staring at him and Marie.

They had put her up to this.

“Ha... You guys, seriously.”

“We were only watching.”

“Sure you were.”

Volka spoke as if it were nothing, but anyone could see how deeply interested they were in Ricart and Marie.

Sandy, who had been walking nearby and watching the entire exchange, spoke as though they were pathetic.

“That’s not how you win a man’s heart. You lot have it backward.”

“How do you win it, then?”

Delphi asked.

“You seduce him. Ricky’s still young, so he doesn’t know. Time will sort it out. Don’t be too impatient. That’ll only make his heart run farther away. Seduce him once the hair down there has properly grown in. He’ll fall for you right away.”

Whether she was shameless or simply did not care who heard, Sandy said it all without hesitation in front of the people involved.

“Mm...”

Ricart let out an involuntary groan. Unexpectedly, Marie seemed to listen closely.

Once the hair down there has properly grown in...

Still, she held out the raspberries as if urging him to eat more.

Ricart felt thoroughly embarrassed, but he did not refuse the raspberries. It was awkward, but he did not want to trample on the girl’s sincere feelings. Neither was he cruel enough to firmly end things between them.

Contrary to Sandy’s advice, he could only hope that Marie’s feelings would naturally settle with time.

“But, Ricky.”

Sandy called him.

“Yeah?”

“A woman’s courage disappears after her first love passes. So treat it with care. I can’t tell you what to do with your heart, though.”

Though only six or seven years older than him, Sandy offered advice like a much older adult.

“I understand, but isn’t that something you shouldn’t say in front of her?”

“What’s stopping me? We don’t know when we’ll die.”

“...True.”

He remembered the first time he had seen Sandy’s clan two years ago. His first impression of adventurers had been that they were closed-off, yet at the same time open and honest.

That contradiction stemmed from the fact that they never knew when they might die.

They had to be guarded because they needed to be wary of others, but they were open and honest because there might not be a next time.

Was that the reason Marie confessed as well? It might have come from anxiety and fear that this could be her last chance, but that did not mean she had fabricated feelings that were not there or shown him a false heart.

Marie’s feelings were sincere. Ricart knew that better than anyone. Even if he could not accept them, he could not trample them either.

“I won’t say I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“...Okay. But listen.”

“Yeah.”

“That feeling won’t change, right?”

“Which feeling?”

“The thing about not believing in love. That means you can’t love another woman either, right?”

For a moment, Ricart thought something was seriously wrong. A chill ran down his spine.

Yet Marie’s gaze looked pure. That made it even more frightening.

“R-Right...”

“I’ll trust you.”

Could the words “I’ll trust you” really be this terrifying? Ricart began to think he had gotten himself into trouble.

Religion and love were alike in that way. Faith contained madness within it. The sweet scent of raspberries still lingered in his mouth, but he could no longer enjoy it without reservation.

Whether they knew his inner thoughts or not, his friends watched with pleased expressions. They all seemed crazy.

Whether it was the era itself or only Ricart’s friends, they seemed to think it would be fine as long as they could sew Ricart and Marie together with a needle.

Ricart closed his eyes. Just as he could not accept Marie’s feelings, he could not tell her not to love him. He would have to endure it. What else could he do?

In any case, they followed Sandy into a forest on the outskirts.

After walking through the woods for about an hour, they heard the sound of water somewhere nearby. Trickle, trickle.

Around then, they came upon a cabin.

A few adventurers were scattered around it. Some were strangers, but their faces were familiar. Ricart often came and went from the guild building at the foot of the hill, so he had seen them there.

Some lightly touched their hats or raised a hand in greeting. Ricart greeted them with his eyes as well.

Sandy approached a woman with short black hair who was crouching beside the cabin and spoke to her. Ricart and his friends watched from a short distance away.

The crouching woman stood. Her black clothes were not tight, but they showed some of her figure. A scarf covered the lower half of her face.

After briefly listening to Sandy, the woman walked toward Ricart.

She pointed at Volka and Ricart.

“Only you two, follow me.”

The woman in black led Volka and Ricart away. It seemed the Guild Master was not inside the cabin.

As they followed her, the trickle of water grew closer. Before long, they reached a clear stream in the forest.

There were three people near the stream. Two stood while one sat in a folding chair.

They appeared to be cooking something over a fire, and an appetizing scent drifted all the way to Ricart.

The woman crooked a finger for them to come closer. When Ricart and Volka approached, the seated person turned his head to look at them.

To their surprise, it was Dunkel.

“Huh? It’s Dunkel.”

“Ha ha ha. That’s how it is. It’s not like I was trying to deceive you. Our work has things in common with the Thieves’ Guild, doesn’t it?”

Dunkel spoke with a smile.

The Guild Master of the Beringen Guild was none other than Dunkel.

“I’m a little surprised, but thinking about it, it’s not all that surprising.”

Ricart accepted it more calmly than expected. Volka, on the other hand, stared with wide eyes. He had known Dunkel before Ricart did, but he had never imagined it.

“Eat this first. It’s a delicacy.”

Dunkel ladled red soup from a bubbling pot onto two trays. Strangely, it contained freshwater crayfish, corn, and assorted fruit. Dunkel cut a lemon in half with a dagger and squeezed the juice over both trays.

“Look. This is how you peel them.”

Dunkel demonstrated by peeling a crayfish himself. He twisted a section free from the body, removed the first shell, then pressed the end of the tail and neatly pulled out the meat.

Still somewhat bewildered, Ricart and Volka sat on the gravel and peeled crayfish. Their hands were soon covered in sauce.

When Ricart took a bite of the crayfish meat, it was incredible. This was the first proper dish he had ever eaten, made with expensive spices used without restraint. Food could taste like this?

Throughout both his lives, he had lived on dry rations, heavily salted preserved meat, jerky, and watery porridge. The shock made his eyes widen.

Dunkel watched Ricart and Volka happily as they peeled and ate two or three crayfish. After another person poured water from a kettle over his hands, he washed them, dried them with a towel, and spoke.

“I knew things would go well if you joined the war, Ricky.”

Ricart was busy eating, but after a moment’s thought, he answered.

“Still, I feel like I was used.”

“You weren’t used. I never told Volka, your clan master, what to do. All I did was casually mention that Academy students might be mobilized.”

“Mm... That sounds exactly like a devil’s whisper.”

“Ha ha ha. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“So why did you want to see us?”

“Fine. I’ll get straight to the point. What do you want?”

Dunkel asked with his elbows resting on his knees as he sat in the folding chair. From the look in his eyes, he seemed to already know what they wanted.

Ricart looked at Volka, since he was the clan master.

“A branch chief position. We would prefer a branch with farmland, but it does not have to be farmland. Land worth clearing would be enough.”

“Of course, of course. You have to prepare for retirement while you’re young. It’s too late once you get old.”

“Will you make me a branch chief?”

Ricart asked.

“Do I have the right to refuse?”

“You’re the Guild Master.”

“I know you’re a noble, and I know an elder is backing you. I have no right to refuse something like this.”

“A noble? What are you talking about?”

Volka turned to Ricart with wide eyes again. Just like Dunkel, Ricart had been hiding his identity.

Ricart gave an awkward smile.

“Being a noble doesn’t make me special. I had to leave my family anyway. My real name is Ricart. Ricart von Calderbern.”

“My god... It sounds like a foreign language.”

“Everyone says that. They say it sounds like a foreign language.”

“Who else knows besides me?”

“Sandy and Bori.”

“But did you really have to keep it secret?”

“Could we have become friends otherwise?”

“Mm... True. If I had known you were a noble, I probably wouldn’t have picked a fight with you at the start.”

“You rascal. Is that any way to speak?”

“...?”

“I’m joking.”

Ricart and Volka looked at each other and grinned.

Thinking about it, his connection with Volka was funny as well. Ricart had simply beaten him up at first. Even Ricart had not expected them to become friends.

But Volka’s care for the students had drawn Ricart in, and they had grown closer after going through all sorts of things together.

That was how they became a clan, another name for family.

“Anyway, does that make me a branch chief now?”

Ricart asked Dunkel.

“That’s right. But there’s nothing in this world you can gain for free. Whether it’s friends, family, or money, it only becomes yours once you have the strength to protect it and actually protect it.”

Ricart quietly considered what he meant. His mind was sharp by nature, so he quickly understood Dunkel’s meaning.

“You’re going to give us a branch in an area made unstable by the war.”

“Correct. If you protect that place, it becomes yours. What I do is nothing special. I put the desires of adventurers and the dreams of clans on the same path as our goals.”

“And if they can’t be put on the same path?”

Dunkel answered with nothing but an unreadable smile.

Either eliminate them or drive them out. That was what Ricart thought.

Ricart might have been better at fighting and combat techniques, but Dunkel seemed better at managing an organization and leading people. He had to acknowledge that.

“Is Ice doing well?”

Volka asked. His tray was now full of crayfish shells and stripped corn cobs.

Dunkel took the tray, dumped the leftovers onto the ground, then refilled it.

“It would be better not to get too close to him. One day, his path will diverge from both the guild’s and yours.”

“What do you mean?”

“Since I’ve revealed my identity anyway, I’ll tell you. Ice is from the Church of Judgment. He’s not merely a believer. He holds a position within the church. He had his own purpose from the moment he entered the Academy. We left him alone because he was useful, but in the end, he’ll choose the church.”

“What?”

Volka’s eyes widened again. There were truly many surprises for him today.

But Ricart was no less surprised.

He knew Ice belonged to a somewhat cultish faith, but he had not thought Ice would be such a fervent follower. If he was involved that deeply, he could truly face a heresy trial.

“Didn’t you all know? You’re rather amateurish. It’s obvious. That bastard’s out of his mind about becoming a Sword Master for the church. That’s why he wants to become Special Rank. But that isn’t for me to judge. It’s for the elders.”

“Who are the elders? Are there more people besides the ones I know?”

Dunkel only smiled again at Ricart’s question. When he did not intend to answer, he seemed to stay silent with a smile.

“That’s all I have to say. You might run into Ice now and then. I’m not the type to tell others what to do. Figure it out yourselves.”

Dunkel rose from his seat. As if he was about to leave, he gave Ricart one final word.

“Ricky, being one of the Nine Swords of the Empire is like being the champion of a jousting tournament. There are always challengers, and there’s no guarantee you’ll win the next tournament. If you get knocked down by a lance, it makes no difference whether you are the champion. You can be badly hurt or die. Just like how you killed Steiner.”

“Oh, that reminds me. The Ernberg Five. I heard the Emperor was behind them. Is that true?”

Dunkel thought, This kid still doesn’t listen to anyone.

At the same time, perhaps bemused by it all, he let out a wry laugh.

“They’re like whores. They take any client. They were skilled at walking the line, and while those above were fingering their swords as they weighed whether to kill them, you killed them first. It’s true that several people are better off thanks to you. I’m leaving. See you next time. Take care of yourselves. Sally will tell you about the branch.”

Dunkel walked away across the gravel with his companions.

Only the woman named Sally, who had led Ricart here, remained. She approached the two of them.

“Are you going to eat all of that?”

Sally pointed at the pot.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re going to eat all of it.”

“No. I’m fine. What about you, Ricky?”

“Me too.”

Sally sat beside the pot and used the ladle to put its contents onto a tray. She seemed to have wanted it badly.

The smell really was incredible.

The crayfish dish was certainly delicious, but after hearing all those stories, Ricart found the aftertaste somewhat unpleasant.

It was like he had been moved around like a puppet without even knowing it.

Still, they had gotten what they wanted. Was that enough? He did not know.

More than anything, thinking of Ice left him with complicated feelings.

The Church of Judgment...

Words Ice had spoken in Griffinswald one day echoed in his ears.

‘Even you can’t save me. Just let me die...’

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