WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 59

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The north was mostly flatland, but here and there, the terrain rose in rounded swells. Mount Ern, or Ernberg, was one of them.

It was far too low to truly call a mountain, more like a modest hill. The city spread out around it, and sturdy walls enclosed the entire place.

The city was not particularly large, but a great river curved around its western side before flowing south.

The river was called the Main River. It passed through the imperial capital of Nibelungen, then Rainfurt, and beyond. Merchant ships came and went from the docks.

The hill had been carved into artificial tiers, almost like steps, with buildings scattered along them. Perhaps because its stonemasons' guild was famous, every building looked solidly built.

Around the middle of the hill stood one unusual structure. It looked as though two buildings had been joined crosswise.

The first floor was built from tightly fitted stones rather than square bricks. The second and third floors had exposed timber frames with neat plasterwork.

Its tiled roof formed a pointed triangle in cross-section, with two chimneys. The first floor had a back door, a side door, and a front entrance with an exterior porch.

There was a well and an apple tree in the backyard, and even a small stable beside the building.

A donkey in the stable leisurely chewed its feed as it watched people struggle under heavy loads.

It seemed people and animals alike rested after working, then worked again after resting.

The things people carried alone with difficulty, or lifted together, included beds, tables, chairs, and wooden barrels.

"It's leaning too far left. No, now it's too high. Just a little. Yeah. I think that's good?"

Ricart looked up as he spoke. Standing on a chair, Volka stretched out his arms in an awkward position to support something. It was a signboard.

The signboard bore a carving of an eagle holding a violet in its beak. It was the emblem of the Ernberg branch of the Beringen Adventurer Guild. Naturally, the violet represented the Viola Clan, its core clan.

"Fuck... I said we should just hang it with chains..."

"You said you hated how they'd squeak in the wind."

Volka cursed, but he still finished the job properly. He drove flat iron nails into the wall, securing the signboard in place.

Hoping everything would go well from now on, he used more nails than necessary to fasten it firmly.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

After confirming that the signboard was properly secured, Ricart went inside.

The first thing he saw was Marie and Boribori each carrying a heavy bed on their backs up to the upper floor. The laborers stared blankly, as if they could not believe it.

Since the two could handle mana, they were far stronger than ordinary people when they used Mana Drive.

Delphi kept scrubbing a floor she had already cleaned once with a pig-bristle mop.

"Ricky, all the beds are in. Can you arrange the tables?"

"Yeah."

Ricart dragged the heavy tables across the floor. He roughly positioned four tables in the open area and placed a low table beside the fireplace.

After arranging the chairs, he poured a little kerosene into the fireplace and struck the flint with a click, click until it caught.

It was best to keep a fire going, since it made the interior feel warm and welcoming. The scent of burning wood brushed his nose and gave him an odd sense of comfort.

Ricart looked around the room. It seemed they had more or less cleared away the dust and finished tidying up, so he simply sat beside the fireplace.

Before long, Ice came downstairs first, sleeves rolled up. Marie and Boribori followed.

"Delphi, take a break. You'll wear the floor away."

"If we're doing it, we should do it right. Once people start coming, we'll be too busy to clean."

Delphi said it with a smile. This place was practically their home now, and she seemed not to feel the strain at all.

There was not a single corner of the building, nor even the smallest detail, that had not received someone's care. It felt as though it would become a memory someday.

Ice had regained some shine in his hair and put on a little weight, recovering some of his health.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, though he had never had a particularly bulky build. He still looked a little thin, but he was all right.

Even with mana, the work was not effortless. Boribori and Marie bent their stiff necks from side to side, then rubbed each other's shoulders.

Finally, Volka paid the workers and came inside. He dropped into a chair at the table, threw his head back, and whined theatrically.

"Ah, I'm exhausted. Let's close up and rest today."

"We're not running a business, Volka."

This was not a place that sold alcohol and food or provided beds to ordinary people. It was a place that accepted requests, assigned missions, and offered adventurers a place to rest and supplies.

"I don't know, I don't know."

"By the way, who's cooking? We have to make food when people come, don't we?"

"At first, can't we just throw together whatever we have, add water, and boil it?"

"I think we should hire staff too."

"Do we have money? How much is left?"

Ricart, Boribori, and Marie all started throwing out remarks at once. Volka had trouble even telling who was saying what.

"Not one coin. We're beggars now."

Volka said it with his head still thrown back over the chair.

They had spent all their money on a gift for the count, the building, beds, tables, food, and all sorts of other things. They truly had nothing left.

"Then how do we pay the reward if someone brings in a wanted criminal's head?"

Boribori asked. Even if they did not belong to the Beringen Guild, the guild was obliged to pay anyone who captured a wanted criminal or brought in their head.

"Oh, right."

As if he had only just remembered, Volka got up, went into his room on the first floor, rummaged through his bag, and returned with a stack of papers. He plastered them all over the wall.

Wanted posters covered the wall, each bearing the face of a criminal who looked unsettling in a different way. The rewards ranged from as much as fifty gold to as little as five silver.

Once he had put them all up, he turned to his friends.

"Now we need to make money."

"Can't we just catch those people ourselves?"

"We can't go far."

Boribori spoke, and Ricart shook his head. Killing them would not be difficult, but tracking them down would take time.

"I'll try doing it alone."

Ice, who had only listened to the others talk, finally spoke. He seemed to think he should help somehow.

"There's no need. We need to land a big job. We're past catching small fry like these now."

Ricart shook his head again. It could have sounded arrogant, but he had not meant it that way. They had little time and could not go far, so it was better to earn a large sum nearby.

"A big job?"

"Yeah. Private requests from rich people. We killed the Ernberg Five, bought clothes for every Academy kid, and still had some left over."

The clothes were being made from fabric dyed with lapis lazuli. They had not all been completed yet, but there was enough money left even after making clothes for around two hundred children.

"The Ernberg Five were a bit..."

Unexpectedly, Boribori looked uneasy, as though the thought overwhelmed him.

Boribori had gained a fair amount of experience in fighting by now. Looking back with that experience, killing the Ernberg Five had been almost a miracle.

They had been lucky enough to find them split into groups of two and three, allowing them to kill two first and defeat them separately. Then the Nameless One had stepped in first, killed one of the remaining enemies, and shaken the other two. That was how they had achieved that result.

What if the situation had been reversed? If they were defending this place and the Ernberg Five attacked with all their strength, could they really survive?

They had clear weaknesses, but their strengths were monstrous too. And if all five fought together properly, it was hard to imagine how powerful they would be.

There was the toad-like woman whose thick hide blades could not pierce, the giant-like man, the necromancer, and even a Sword Master. Boribori had not seen Ghost Sword personally, but Ghost Sword was surely no pushover either.

Even if time were turned back, Boribori would fight them. But now, they were people so dreadful that merely thinking of them made him shudder.

"Even if they're not on that level, there are plenty of rich people. Let's visit the other guilds first and let people know our faces. Who says we have to wait for work to fall into our laps? We can go out and see whether there is work ourselves. And I think we need to get a hold on the docks. Or at least figure out how the docks operate."

Ricart got straight to the heart of it. Anyone could see that Ernberg was a city sustained by trade. Listening to Ricart made it feel as though a hazy view was becoming clearer.

Volka thought that surely they would not starve to death. Somehow, things would work out.

Ricart and his friends freely talked about all sorts of things concerning the future. Then someone entered the building.

"Excuse me."

The members of the Viola Clan stopped talking and all turned to look at him.

He was a young man wearing a hat with a hawk's tail feather tucked into it. He wore an embroidered tunic beneath a loose shawl-like garment, and his boots were spotless.

He cleared his throat and spoke in a ringing voice.

"Ahem, ahem. Greetings, brave adventurers. My name is Harrison, and I am a guest of the Ernberg Trading Company. I love literature and poetry, and I travel the world seeking stories to turn into song. At times, I wander with the sky as my roof and bare ground as my bed, but does not romance arise from hardship? As I gaze upon the stars at night and the clouds by day, searching for poetic inspiration, I heard that the young hero in the red cape had come here. So I have taken the liberty of visiting you. If you would grant our trading company the honor of inviting a hero to a banquet, I could not be more delighted."

Ricart and his friends simply stared at him for some time. An awkward silence followed. What was his name again? Ah, right. Harrison. Could someone really say so many unnecessary things? If that was a talent, it was certainly a talent.

It took them a little time to sort out his name and why he had come.

In any case, Ricart agreed right away. They had been planning to visit different places anyway.

"All right. I'll go."

"How refreshing. Might you be the one?"

"That's right. I'm Ricky. The red cape. Ricky of the Viola Clan, Beringen Adventurer Guild."

After Ricart introduced himself, Harrison, the self-proclaimed bard, studied him with a steady gaze. He seemed careful not to let it become rude.

Once he had finished observing him, he approached with formal steps, took something from his pocket, and offered it out. Even as he did, he bowed at the waist and stepped back with one foot, as though he were being excessively formal.

It was an envelope. Ricart broke the red wax seal and looked inside. It was simply an invitation, addressed to so-and-so and filled with the usual formalities.

The banquet was not being held especially for Ricart. It seemed they held them constantly anyway, but had invited him because a somewhat famous person had arrived and they were curious.

"Thank you. You may go, Harrison."

"It was an honor to meet you. It would be an even greater honor if you would allow the other distinguished guests to behold the hero's appearance as well."

After exchanging final greetings, Harrison turned and left.

"Is he normally that formal?"

Volka asked Ricart casually. Since he knew Ricart was a noble, he was really asking whether Ricart acted that way too.

"I've only heard about that sort of thing. It's my first time seeing it. What about you, Marie?"

"Me? Why me?"

"Have you ever seen that kind of formality?"

"How would I know..."

Marie tried to play ignorant, but everyone except Delphi and Ice had picked up on it to some extent.

"Will you go with me tonight?"

"Where?"

"To the banquet."

"I don't have a dress."

"So what? You're pretty."

"I-Is that so?"

"Yeah, let's go. Volka and Delphi can guard this place. Ice and Boribori, go look around the docks. The numbers work out perfectly."

Boribori opened his eyes wide and looked at Ice beside him. Ice looked back at Boribori.

Their height difference was rather large, even when seated, so Boribori had to look up at him.

When Boribori grinned, Ice gave a small smile too. Watching Ice, Marie thought she wanted to have a match with him.

After all, Ice had been ranked first at the Academy before Ricart, and Ricart had compared her to Ice.

But she could not fight him now. She decided she would mention it later, if she got the chance.

In any case, Boribori and Ice left the building first. Delphi took Marie out and pooled their scant money to buy a dress.

It was a simple blue dress, the kind a country girl might wear. But it was altered on the spot to fit her, making it look neat and flattering enough.

Ricart simply put on the cleanest spare clothes he had, strapped a single dagger at his waist for protection, and left the building.

"I'm off."

"Yeah, see you later. You don't have to grovel too much, all right?"

"I can't do that anyway."

Ricart said it with a smile. Then he walked through the nighttime streets with Marie.

Only faint light leaked from the windows of buildings. The city was simply dark in the evening. Ricart walked slightly ahead, then Marie came closer and took his hand.

Ricart was a little surprised, but he soon felt the fragile courage in Marie's faintly trembling hand.

A feeling of guilt passed through his chest. Ricart squeezed her hand once, then loosened his grip. He conveyed his feelings without words. There was no need to be embarrassed. Do not tremble.

They walked hand in hand, swinging their joined hands back and forth. It made them smile as though their childhood innocence had returned. They were like nothing more than a boy and a girl, drunk on the night streets and simply happy.

Ricart and Marie went down the slope toward the river. Far from the docks stood a mansion whose windows shone brightly even from a distance.

When they reached it, several carriages stood in a courtyard lit by bonfires. They were not freight wagons for carrying cargo, but carriages meant for people.

They were extremely expensive. Making wheel axles required more advanced specialized skill than one might think.

"Can you drink?"

Ricart asked Marie.

"No."

"Me neither. But won't it be strange if we only talk about work?"

"I wonder. Who's hosting it?"

"I don't know. It's a trading company, so probably a merchant noble? We'll find out when we go inside, won't we?"

Marie smiled at Ricart, who was so hopeless he had not even thought to take out the invitation and check.

"Idiot."

Ricart just smiled too.

In truth, neither of them needed to care much. They were both genuine aristocrats. Their bloodlines themselves differed from those of merchant nobles.

One could trace his lineage back to the royal family and was descended from a hero. The other carried the blood of the current Emperor. Though she was a bastard formally registered into the family, a daughter was still a daughter.

At the mansion, someone checked invitations. When Ricart showed his, the man tilted his head and looked back and forth between Ricart and the invitation.

"Younger than you expected, right?"

"Pardon?"

"May we go in?"

"Ah... yes."

For some reason, the gatekeeper answered with an uncertain look.

Ricart entered the mansion with Marie. Hundreds of candles brightly lit everything from the central hall to the corridors.

Beeswax candles were not cheap, and the wealth on display was impressive from the start.

Drawn by the sounds of lutes, flutes, and laughing, chatting people, they walked down a corridor and found a vast room, like another hall.

Some people sat while others stood, freely enjoying the banquet. Surprisingly, there were no fully grown adults. They were all around Ricart's age.

Ricart was growing rapidly by the day and had reached the high one-sixty-centimeter range. He was tall and sturdily built for his age.

Marie was about the same height as Ricart, so when the boy and girl entered the banquet hall, they naturally drew attention.

There were around thirty people. It was not as loud as a market, but it was lively enough.

But when the two newcomers entered the hall, everyone fell quiet as though it had been arranged beforehand. Their gazes scarcely left Ricart and Marie.

They soon instinctively realized why everyone was staring. Their clothing was far too different.

The others wore splendid clothes embroidered in gold and silver thread with every trick of a craftsman's skill, along with accessories glittering with jewels.

Compared to those extravagant clothes, Ricart and Marie did not merely look plain. They looked shabby. They wore no ornaments around their necks, ears, or fingers, making them seem utterly bare.

Before long, they heard whispers from all around, accompanied by openly contemptuous looks. They could make out a few of them.

"What are those lowly beggars doing here..."

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