WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 65

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Ricart, Boribori, and Marie passed through fields, valleys, and the Kaits region. When they had first set out, spring was in the air, but before they knew it, the weather had turned hot and muggy.

The north had fairly even temperatures throughout the year, but that did not mean its summers were not hot or its winters were not cold.

The scent of grass was strong on the wind. Boribori sat in a flower field with his eyes closed, head raised as he sniffed the air.

He was identifying each plant hidden amid the mingled scents.

“Hmm... This is marigold. This is... cornflower. This is Ricky’s scent. And this is... gentian?”

While Boribori did that, a young man and woman faced each other in another flower field. Ricart and Marie.

They seemed to be sparring, but because they held real swords rather than practice swords, it looked rather dangerous.

Marie stood with her knees bent, her sword Ricky hanging at her side. Ricart had shifted his center of gravity slightly back, as though preparing to slash diagonally upward from the lower left.

A cool wind blew between them, carrying a fragrant scent. Yet it only lightly stirred their hair. Neither the wind nor the scent could shake the gazes they had fixed on each other.

When someone was deeply focused, they could forget the passage of time. No one knew how long their standoff had lasted, but Marie boldly took a long step forward.

Then she stopped at the very edge of Ricart’s range.

Had she stepped in any farther, Ricart would have counterattacked. But she was not yet within range, so he did not react. Ricart’s ability to calculate the distance so precisely and remain still was impressive as well.

Marie paused at the surface of his range, then entered it slowly, as though holding her breath and gradually sinking beneath water. As she crossed into his range, she fully felt the tingling sensation run through her body.

Her heart pounded, but her mind did not waver. Her self-control was impressive too.

Still, compared to feinting in every direction or charging in as quickly as possible, it was a highly unusual method.

She would attack, but in truth, she was trying to draw out her opponent’s attack and counter it.

Since Marie approached it this way, the sparring took on the feeling of, Go on, show your hand first.

The distance between them kept narrowing. If this had been a real fight to the death, it would have been extremely dangerous.

That was why controlling one’s mind was so important now. She could not be impatient. She could not be too relaxed either. She simply had to react precisely to even the slightest sign, like the surface of a mirror-like lake.

Ricart and Marie seemed to be waiting for the other to attack, and the distance between them had narrowed to three steps.

I have to swing now. It’ll be too late to counter.

Marie’s unease sent ripples through her mirror-like mind. It was faint, but she hesitated.

At that moment, Ricart moved with a whoosh.

He stepped sharply to the right, but Marie was no ordinary opponent. She swung her sword like lightning in a direction that could block Ricart’s blade path while attacking him at the same time.

With a shhk, she cut a little grass. Ricart twisted his upper body farther right and narrowly avoided the strike, then stepped in again. He grabbed Marie’s wrist, the one holding the sword.

Marie drew up mana and resisted, but Ricart knew how to use his opponent’s strength against them. In truth, he did not even need to. He simply hooked her leg and swept her down.

As he swept away her supporting foot, Marie’s leg flew up and her upper body bent backward. Ricart caught her back.

Ridiculously enough, it looked like a move from a dance, and their faces drew close.

For an entirely different reason, Marie’s heart dropped. She no longer had the will to continue fighting.

“You’re too close,” Ricart said with a smile.

“A-Aren’t you the one who’s close?”

“Hmm? Ah, that’s not what I meant.”

Ricart helped her back up and sheathed his sword. Marie fussed with her clothes for no reason.

“You’ve improved a lot. But in the end, it comes down to your mind. You did well, but your mind wavered at the end.”

Ricart had accurately noticed the impatience and anxiety that had shaken Marie. In fact, he could have subdued her much earlier if he wanted to. This had been closer to a test.

“If you can control your mind that much, you might not be human.”

“Maybe.”

“By the way, am I really never going to beat you until you graduate?”

Ricart’s graduation was not far away now. It could be as soon as two or three months, or at most five.

“Well, doesn’t that depend on you, Marie?”

“But how do you think you’d feel if I really beat you?”

“I don’t think I’d feel anything.”

“Why? Don’t you have any frustration or competitive spirit?”

“A real fight is a matter of life and death. There’s no room for competitiveness. Sparring only imitates a real fight, so I don’t think it helps much. A person only truly reflects on who they are when they feel death approaching.”

Ricart spoke as he looked over the field. The green plain stretched all the way to the horizon, covered in masses of red, yellow, and white flowers.

Flowers and grass swayed lightly in the wind, while butterflies and bees fluttered above them.

The weather was muggy, but the wind kept it from feeling too hot.

“But I...”

“Hmm?”

Marie seemed to have something to say, but she only hesitated and never opened her mouth.

She had a mission that was not quite a mission. She had to either defeat Ricart or seduce him into marriage. Only by achieving one of those could she gain true freedom.

Even she thought defeating Ricart was impossible. The only possibility left was winning his heart.

But Ricart was someone who could not believe in love. Marie knew that better than anyone.

Yet when she thought more deeply about it, Marie did not feel honest with herself. Whether she defeated Ricart or won his heart, both were merely means to gain freedom.

Did that mean she had to give up her desire for freedom?

It was far too difficult a question for a young girl.

“Are you done sparring?”

Boribori, who had been sitting in the flower field and sniffing the air, asked. Ricart slung his sword over one shoulder, his red cape draped beneath it, and spoke to Marie.

“Let’s go.”

Marie let out a deep sigh and prepared to move on.

Then Boribori suddenly walked up to Marie and sniffed her.

“Why?”

“Hmm, Marie smells like gentian. That’s strange. I got confused for a moment.”

Ricart and Marie both snorted as if they could not believe him.

Beringen was right ahead. Sparring was nice, and so was enjoying the fields in early summer, but nothing was better than resting at home.

Beringen was divided into districts in the north, south, east, and west. Nord settlers lived in the north, locals who had lived there for generations lived in the west, merchants and artisans from the Academy mostly lived in the east, and travelers passing through mostly stayed in the south.

Enough time had passed that they might have mixed together, but they had not. Living separately while respecting each other was one way of living together, after all.

They were not enemies, but if someone went into another district and spoke or acted carelessly, they could receive a severe beating.

Ricart, Boribori, and Marie were passing through the southern district when they saw people who looked about to learn that lesson.

“Hey, you fucking bastard. If you get drunk, either sleep it off properly or die. Why are you making a damn scene?”

The man speaking wore filthy, stained clothes with his sleeves rolled up. He was quite large and seemed to own the tavern. The problem was the huge kitchen knife in his hand.

His opponents looked young, and there were three of them altogether.

One wore a dark blue jacket, while the other two had taken off their jackets and wore white shirts.

“When did I make a scene!? All I said was that we should go out and get some air!”

“You think anyone’s scared because you’re holding a knife!?”

“Is the tavern waitress yours!? Are you her pimp!? What’s wrong with talking to her!?”

They were like stray dogs barking at a large beast. The sight of them yapping so noisily was not pleasant.

It seemed the trouble had begun over a waitress. Wherever one went, money and women often led men to their deaths.

In any case, the large man had a weapon even stronger than the knife that could have ended the argument easily.

“She’s my wife, you little shits!”

At those words, the Academy students who had been barking suddenly shut their mouths.

But after glancing at one another, they started saying strange things.

“She looked young.”

“Didn’t you kidnap her?”

“You must be threatening her into staying with you.”

“Right. It doesn’t make sense.”

They looked like they were denying him just to find another reason to start a fight. Meanwhile, people from the southern district were slowly gathering. Some carried clubs.

This was exactly the kind of situation where someone could get badly beaten. If the locals rushed in and thrashed them, they could even die.

But whether the students understood their situation or not, they looked ready to charge at the tavern owner again.

That was when Ricart stepped in.

“Hey, stop it.”

Everyone there turned to look at him. Several pairs of eyes swept over him from head to toe, then widened when they noticed Marie’s extraordinary beauty beside him.

Ricart gave his warning regardless.

“You might really die if you keep this up. Go back.”

But the reply was unexpected.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Anyone can wear a red cape these days.”

“Can’t you see this jacket? We’re students of the great Beringen Academy. We have two hundred comrades at the Academy.”

The great Beringen what? Comrades? Ricart looked as though he had bitten into a bug, unable to understand what kind of bullshit they were saying.

And it seemed they did not know who Ricart was. Since he had been away for several months, they might have been newcomers who had arrived during that time.

But had newcomers always been this arrogant?

“Stop while I’m being nice and get lost. Look around you.”

Only then did the students look around them. People were gathering from every alley, giving off an ominous air.

They finally seemed frightened and flustered. Still, they did not let go of their pride until the end.

“H-Hmph! I just remembered something I need to do.”

“R-Right. We have somewhere to be.”

“Next time, we’ll bring our comrades, so you’d better be ready.”

With that, they hurried away. Ricart wondered what kind of idiots they were, then apologized to the tavern owner in their place.

“I’m sorry. They don’t seem like complete scum, so I’ll try to talk some sense into them.”

“Hmm...”

In truth, there was no one among the tavern owner or the residents there who did not know Ricart. In other words, they knew better than anyone how frightening he could be.

Fortunately, once the students withdrew, the residents who had been gathering also dispersed.

“Is the guild war over?” the tavern owner asked.

They were not close, but they at least knew each other by sight.

“They’re negotiating an end to it.”

“I heard what happened in Kaits. Everyone has.”

“I was only fighting desperately. Anyway, what is all this?”

“Seems a lunatic agitator named Kalli became their boss while you were gone. They don’t threaten merchants and extort money like before, but they go around in packs causing trouble everywhere. They’re all getting too full of themselves.”

Kalli was Carlich’s nickname, the name people used for short.

The locals called him a boss because they did not know much about the Academy and seemed to think it was some sort of fighting organization.

They were neither mercenaries nor adventurers, only a pack of kids who went around in groups. That was all. So they called the student who seemed to be first in the pecking order, or their leader, the boss.

“I’m sorry. I’ll look into it.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Ricart apologized for the students and settled the matter before heading toward the eastern district, where the guild building stood.

“What is going on?” Boribori said in disbelief.

They were clearly newcomers if they did not know Ricart. When Boribori had been a newcomer, he would not even have dreamed of something like this. He had only been crammed into the chicken coop, watching others carefully and getting beaten up.

“From the way they talked about comrades, I guess they have good solidarity,” Marie said.

She had not been at the Academy for long, but she understood the atmosphere well enough.

The students tended to form cliques and were strongly individualistic, so the word comrades itself felt unfamiliar.

“Yeah, solidarity is good...”

Ricart spoke with a sigh.

Starting with himself, the Academy had been changing far too quickly. And change always came with side effects.

The uniforms Ricart had bought for the students gave them pride and a sense of belonging. Carlich had encouraged that more than anyone. But when it went too far, this was what happened.

In less than two years, so much had changed, and it was changing even faster. It was difficult even for Ricart to keep up.

He no longer knew what was going on.

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