WeTried Translations

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 60

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Ricart knew. He knew that he did not belong here, and that people were looking down on him.

An ordinary person might have shrunk beneath those cold stares, but Ricart did not. He was neither intimidated nor angry at them.

They all looked weak.

So he only thought one thing.

I won't be staying here long.

Marie was not intimidated either, though her feelings were a little different from Ricart's.

She had spent her whole life training in a family of swordsmen, treated as a bastard. Then one day, she was told she had been formally registered into the family and ordered to enroll at the Academy.

She had gone from bastard to Imperial princess overnight. Yet nothing had really changed. She had merely been notified. She had never even seen her father, the Emperor, in person.

That was why Marie despised people who flaunted their birth, money, or status. She could sense it in their gazes, and it disgusted her.

Ricart merely swept his gaze over the people his age, while Marie stood straight and returned their condescending looks with contempt of her own.

Perhaps because they sensed the peculiar air and attitude around the two, the others' gazes gradually began to change.

Looking more closely, Ricart had a gentle yet sturdy boyish charm, while Marie's beauty was simply overwhelming. It seemed as though her face alone crushed the expensive clothes and jewelry around them.

The reddish glow unique to candlelight almost made it seem as though it had been lit for the boy and girl alone.

Ricart took Marie's hand and began walking, intending to look around the banquet hall. People's gazes followed them.

There was an unforced confidence in their steps, and people naturally sensed a certain dignity in them. The contemptuous looks gradually faded, replaced by curiosity and quiet envy.

But there was jealousy too.

Who do they think they are? Aren't they just penniless beggars? Why are they acting so proud?

At any gathering, there was always a group that took the lead, and among them, someone who played the main role.

A group of boys and girls sat before the fireplace. One girl among them, dressed in a deep pink gown adorned with pearls, rose with a fan in hand and approached Ricart and Marie.

“Hello?”

Ricart, who had been examining the rare foods on the table, looked up at her. She was cute, but one corner of her lips curled upward in a faint sneer.

“Yes.”

“This must be your first time at the Gathering of Morning Stars.”

“Morning Stars?”

“Yes. This is a gathering exclusively for the children of influential families in Ernberg. So the term morning stars is only fitting.”

“I don't know. It sounds a little childish.”

“Pardon?”

For a moment, one of the girl's eyebrows twitched as though she thought she had misheard.

It was out of nowhere, but Ricart thought it was remarkably efficient how she moved only one facial muscle at a time, whether it was the corner of her mouth or an eyebrow.

“May I ask your name, young lord?”

“I'm Ricky. And you, Lady?”

“My name is Regina. Those close to me call me Cute Regi. If you become close to me as well, I may grant you the honor of calling me Regi.”

Huh? What honor? What was she talking about?

For a moment, Ricart was left dumbfounded.

Regina was not the name of a proper noble house. It sounded exactly like the name of a merchant family.

They were nobles in their own way, but this was an age when they were clearly distinguished from proper noble families that held titles.

Still, Ricart had not come here to judge social standing, so he ignored it and continued the conversation.

“Is a banquet normally this quiet? I thought banquets were for eating, drinking, and making a lot of noise.”

Stormhertz held banquets from time to time as well. They were not merely for enjoyment. They were also meant to strengthen the bonds between the lord and retainers, making them important events.

Ricart had seen even his normally blunt father trade coarse jokes with his retainers once the drinks began flowing, so this place felt somewhat strange to him.

Knightly families were descendants of warriors. They were conservative and valued discipline and honor, but warriors also knew how to enjoy themselves when the time came.

There were cultural differences from region to region, but that much was usually the same. Whether it was a count's house or a duke's, families where the martial spirit still lived were generally like that.

But Ricart's words drew a triumphant smile from Regina.

“Ho ho ho. Those sorts of banquets are for country bumpkins. We are different. Shouldn't nobles naturally preserve dignity and refinement?”

“Not honor and discipline?”

“Those are things mercenaries pick up and prattle about. Unfortunately, the clothes you are wearing seem rather far removed from refinement.”

Regina kept hiding sharp needles in her words. But that manner of speaking had no effect on Ricart.

Ricart knew what intentions and attitude Regina had toward him, but he considered her too insignificant to become angry.

“I know my clothes do not suit this place either. If you had invited me when I had more money, I would have dressed for the occasion. If my presence truly makes you uncomfortable, I will leave.”

“Ohohoho! No. Showing charity to the lowly is also a virtue nobles should uphold. Take your time and enjoy yourselves. Just don't eat too greedily. It's unpleasant to watch. And if you happen to need money, I might ask my father to lend you some, depending on how you behave.”

Regina burst into laughter, looking pleased with herself as though she had succeeded in humiliating Ricart.

Ricart merely thought she was a pathetic little brat. He saw no value in dealing with her, but Marie, who had been listening beside him, could not endure it any longer.

Especially not when Regina was targeting Ricart.

“Excuse me, Lady, but I think you have some kind of fantasy about nobles.”

Marie cut in. Her gaze was cold on the surface, but flames blazed beneath it.

“What are you talking about? I do not understand. There is no one here who is not a noble. Naturally, that includes me. And what sort of family do you come from, Lady?”

Regina lifted her chin and spoke confidently. Her family was one of the foremost merchant houses in Ernberg.

But it was nothing compared to Marie, whose father was the Emperor and whose mother's family was Count Palatine Hellawman.

It would never happen, but if the two families fought, Marie's side could wipe out a merchant family with nothing more than the effort of pressing down with a thumb.

Marie gave a scornful snort. Still, she saw no need to reveal her family just to crush a petty insect like this. Nor did she want to.

“I believe my family is more distinguished than yours, Lady. Because we display majesty and dignity without adorning ourselves in expensive clothes and jewelry. It is unfortunate. No matter how much you decorate the outside, you cannot change the blood flowing through your veins. How laughable for a mere merchant family to speak of dignity.”

“...W-What did you say?”

“Besides, Lady Regina, are you not your family's puppet as well? Before long, the elders of your family will decide and sell you off like a pig. Where is your dignity in that? I am not like that. I am free. Naturally, I am free to choose what clothes I wear as well. Please do not take your own inferiority complex, irritation, and frustration out on others. It is pathetic to watch.”

If Regina spoke with needles hidden in her words, Marie spoke as though openly stabbing with a sword.

Perhaps the shock was too great. The corner of Regina's mouth that had been curled up fell back down. The other children of merchant families around her covered their mouths, their faces full of surprise.

Regina seemed unwilling to admit defeat and tried to force the corner of her mouth back up, but it looked as difficult as lifting a boulder. She wanted to retort, but her words came out stammering.

“Y-You called me... a p-pig? How rude...”

“Go home and quietly sew, you poor Lady. That seems more suited to you.”

Marie utterly crushed her.

Ricart thought, My mother sewed every day too, but it did not bother him. The situation was what it was.

The atmosphere had swelled like a balloon ready to burst. Then, suddenly, a grown man's voice rang out.

“Hero?”

Ricart turned his head and saw a middle-aged man in a broad hat commonly worn by merchants looking at him.

“I do not know if I am a hero, but I did come from the Beringen Guild branch.”

“Ah, my goodness. I apologize. I thought you had not come. Why did that fellow not report it? I am sorry. I should have received you personally. Please, come this way.”

It seemed something had gone wrong. Perhaps they had entered the wrong place.

“I enjoyed our conversation, Lady. Sewing is not a bad thing, either.”

After saying that to Regina, Ricart followed the man with Marie.

The hall had been quiet since Ricart and Marie entered, and it was quiet now as well. But though the room was silent, the girl's insides were boiling, and her body trembled.

“I am Marconis, head of the Marconis Trading Company. I should have properly received you, but this is my failing. Please forgive me.”

The person who had invited Ricart spoke as he served expensive tea in a reception room.

There was no way to obtain tea except by buying it from the distant Salamans, so it was not merely worth its weight in gold. It was more expensive than actual gold.

When Ricart took a sip, he smelled an aroma unlike anything he had known before. It was difficult to describe. The tea was certainly warm, yet it gave him a refreshing sensation.

“Does the tea suit your taste?”

Marconis asked with a pleasant smile. But Ricart felt something vaguely unnatural about that practiced expression.

“The aroma is interesting. I like it.”

“And you, Lady?”

“It is fine for me too.”

“I am glad to hear it. Unfortunately, the banquet has already ended. The place you were in was a social gathering. The children of influential families in Ernberg meet there to become acquainted, and if necessary, perhaps find a match. That place might have been enjoyable in its own way as well...”

Ricart immediately realized the man was lying. Looking into Marconis's eyes, he knew he had deliberately guided them there.

He could not tell exactly why. Was it to intimidate them first? To put pressure on them?

Had Marconis thought that if the children made them feel small before he showed himself, he would gain the upper hand in negotiations and other discussions?

It was a clever method, but shallow. Ricart did not want to make small talk with this man for long. He was neither a merchant nor a negotiator.

“It was enjoyable enough. But why did you invite me?”

“Ha ha ha. As expected of a hero, you are straightforward.”

Marconis smiled at Ricart's direct manner and attempt to get straight to the point.

Merchants usually spent a long time circling around the subject, as though their tongues had been greased.

“First, I wished to greet you because I heard you had recently begun a business in the city. Your reputation is so great that I was curious, though I am embarrassed to admit it. Besides, Adventurer Guilds have always been close to merchants, have they not?”

That was true, so Ricart nodded. Blades followed money, and wherever blades were swung, bloodstained money poured forth. That was how the world worked.

“So you invited me as a courtesy. But I am not much of a talker.”

“Ah, no. There is still the second matter. This is the important one.”

“Go on.”

“Have you heard of the Ernberg Stoneworkers Guild?”

“Yes. I heard it is rather famous here.”

“They are skilled, but they are such rough people that they often cause trouble. We paid the construction costs according to the contract, yet they have occupied the docks again and demand more money. We deal in money, certainly, but it does not spring up without end, does it?”

Ricart stared quietly down at his tea.

Money might not be endless, but could they really afford to enjoy tea like this?

“So you want me to deal with them?”

“Ha ha ha... That is a somewhat blunt way to put it, but simply put, yes. Every day the ship cannot depart costs us ten gold coins. It has already been three days. What are we to do?”

“What are the advance payment, interim payment, and success fee?”

Ricart found it difficult to converse with Marconis, who deliberately kept dragging things out.

Hearing him, Marconis drew money from his clothes. Clink. Two rows of ten gold coins each were stacked before Ricart, each coin cleaned until it gleamed.

Twenty gold coins.

“The advance payment is twenty gold coins. The interim payment is ten. The success fee is thirty. Sixty gold coins in total.”

Of course, they would have to write a separate contract, but deliberately laying the gold coins out before him felt like a kind of negotiating tactic.

Still, sixty gold coins was an enormous sum. It was twelve hundred silver coins.

The reward for capturing Hasphil, the head of the Murder Guild known as the One Who Makes His Mother Sad, had been forty gold coins.

“I cannot kill them, correct?”

“We are offering a higher price because the matter must be resolved without killing anyone.”

“All right. I'll discuss it with my companions, then perhaps get back to you. Thank you for the tea.”

“Pardon?”

Ricart had heard everything he needed, so he rose without hesitation. Marconis blinked with a bewildered expression.

“I said I will contact you again. I will be going now. Farewell.”

Whether Marconis was dumbfounded or not, Ricart simply left the reception room with Marie. No matter how badly they needed money, they could not make a contract carelessly.

When they left the mansion, several people were returning home in carriages. Many people appeared to be spending the night at the mansion, but some were simply leaving.

As they had when they came, Ricart and Marie walked back to the guild building.

As they walked beside the river, lights from the docks, mansions, and other places reflected on the black water. They swayed across its surface as though the moon had sunk beneath the river.

It had a certain charm, but it was also eerie enough to make them feel an assassin might leap from the grass at any moment.

Yet Ricart and Marie were not afraid in the slightest, so they could simply take in the beauty of the riverbank at night.

“You don't get a good feeling from that man either, right?”

Marie had not seen through Marconis's shallow method as clearly as Ricart had, but she seemed to have sensed that something was off.

“Yeah.”

“Still, isn't it a little difficult to become enemies with him? We need to establish ourselves in this city. He is an influential person here.”

“I don't know. We will have to see how things go. Boribori and Ice went to the docks, so let's ask them what the atmosphere was like there.”

“Okay.”

The two passed the riverbank and walked through the city streets at night.

There was not a single person walking around. The city was terribly dangerous at night, so everyone shut themselves inside their homes.

The boy and girl continued along the empty streets. Click-clack, thud-thud. Their footsteps sounded unusually clear.

Ricart looked up at the Milky Way visible in the night sky between the buildings. Marie watched him from beside him.

This was as far as the distance between them went. Marie found it painfully sad, but at the same time, she felt fortunate. Fortunate that they could be this close. That she could reach out and grasp him.

But they were not holding hands now.

For some reason, Marie thought the boy's eyes, as he gazed up at the night sky, looked sad.

Why had he stopped believing in love? Even though he knew how to cherish people's hearts.

Suddenly, she felt sorry for him.

Others might see him as a genius swordsman, a terrifying enemy, a close friend, or a hero. But to Marie, he somehow seemed like someone pitiable.

She was the only one who had knocked on the tightly shut door within him, so she could faintly sense what lay beyond it.

He was someone wonderful whom she admired, but at the same time, she felt she had to hold him close and care for him.

Then, as the two reached the underside of an arched bridge carrying a waterway, they saw several dark silhouettes blocking their path.

Were they thugs? Just ruffians from the city?

As those thoughts crossed their minds, someone stepped forward with a click-clack of footsteps. Then they heard a familiar voice.

“Nobles differ from commoners in more than dignity and decorum. There is also power. In other words, authority. You did not think you could insult a noble like me, then simply walk away, did you? I hope you are not quite that foolish.”

The voice belonged to Regina.

Ricart brought his hand to the dagger at his waist. Looking at the waterway beside the road, he wondered whether dumping bodies in there would dispose of them properly.

But before Ricart could do anything, Marie stepped forward.

“You really are a nuisance.”

Perhaps because Regina had interrupted their precious time alone, Marie's eyes no longer concealed her fury.

When Ricart saw that look, he briefly wondered whether he should stop her.

Of course, he had just been worrying about how to dispose of bodies himself.

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