WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 70

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Humans were not the only beings in the world. More than that, humans were certainly not its masters.

A single dragon could burn down a city, and when a large-scale orc invasion came, people could do nothing but wait for it to die down on its own, like a typhoon.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, such things beyond humanity’s power had become tales of the distant past.

People did not easily recognize things that were not right before their eyes. If they had happened long ago, far before they were even born, people sometimes did not believe they had existed at all.

That was how humans lived, numbly occupying one corner of the world and believing themselves safe. Not believing in something did not mean it did not exist, and believing in it did not necessarily make it real.

“...That’s what I mean. Why would you deliberately lift the lid off a pot full of venomous snakes?”

Volka spoke as he poked at the flames burning inside a discarded pot with a stick.

Late at night, three people sat around a campfire in a secluded empty lot somewhere in Ernberg City. Ricart, Ice, and Volka.

“It’s only a commission, Volka.”

“It’s not just a commission, Ricky.”

Volka clearly opposed the Special Rank commission. As the clan leader, Ricart had no choice but to respect his opinion. As his friend too.

Ricart understood why Volka was trying to stop him, so he could not simply stubbornly insist on going.

“It might not be as serious as we think. Everything we know is secondhand. Maybe the guild gave it a Special Rank because they didn’t know much either.”

“You don’t need to taste shit to know it’s shit. Someone I know knows a vampire hunter. Before the guild war, when Delphi and I were only handling little commissions here and there, I happened to get the chance to meet him. He said ordinary vampires were one thing, but high vampires were practically demigods. They have strength and speed far beyond humans, blood magic, and endless knowledge gained from living so long. The scariest part is probably that they drink blood. What am I supposed to do if you get infected and turn into a vampire, Ricky?”

“Kill me. No, I’ll kill myself.”

“Ha... No, listen.”

“Who is this vampire hunter?”

Ice asked. He had seemed lost in thought, but he was here because he had strongly insisted on joining the commission.

Still, Ricart was the one who had received it, so they could not decide on their own.

Volka stared quietly at Ice. He remembered what Dunkel had once said, that Ice was obsessed with becoming Special Rank.

Volka had felt uneasy even when they first accepted Ice. They had only become part of the same clan because Ricart had wanted to take him in.

But once Volka accepted someone, he trusted them completely, so he did not bring up the past.

Ice had lived well with them so far, and his help in managing the branch had been substantial.

Still, Volka said what needed to be said.

“I know you have an important goal, Ice. But as the clan leader, and as your friend, I have a responsibility to worry about your safety. Let me ask you something first. Ricky, why do you want to take this commission?”

“It’s not that I want to. I decided to do it. And it’s my first commission after graduation. I don’t want to run away.”

Despite Sally’s warning, Ricart himself had chosen that card. Changing his mind because it no longer seemed right after choosing it would have been shameful to him. It was not honorable, and he did not want to live that way.

Others might ask why he would take such a risk when he did not have to, but perhaps that was the difference between extraordinary people and ordinary ones.

No matter what others said, he did what he had decided to do. And no matter what others said, if he had decided not to do something, he never would. It was something different from simple stubbornness. It was part of his nature, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Volka looked between Ricart and Ice before speaking.

“Fine. Let’s do this. I’ll invite the vampire hunter. We’ll hear what he has to say. After that, we’ll consider our chances, and if I judge it possible, I’ll support you too. But if it’s nonsense, I’m against it. What do you say?”

They were no longer students. They needed professionalism in their work. Volka understood that, and so did Ricart and Ice.

So they nodded at the same time.

Two weeks after Volka began using his various connections and the guild’s influence to find the vampire hunter, it rained outside.

More people rested indoors than went out.

Those who had to meet deadlines under contract went outside in cloaks and hoods, while the others rested by the fireplace.

Three or four adventurers had taken over a table, mechanically playing cards to pass the time. They did not look as though they were having much fun.

Near the bar, Delphi was teaching the children how to work, while Volka slept before the fireplace, snoring away as he listened to the rain.

It was a peaceful, lazy moment. It must have been miserable for those working outside, but for those resting, the sound of rain was the best medicine for a fever.

Then the door suddenly opened with a Rattle.

The sound of rain outside became clearer.

A man in a soaked hat and black cloak entered with heavy steps. He carried a large leather bundle over his shoulder.

Thud. Thud. Thud...

His hat brim covered his eyes, so they could not fully see his face, but his unsettling presence was clear enough. He was no ordinary passerby, nor did he seem like a lower-rank adventurer.

Delphi signaled to the card players to wake Volka, then spoke to the man.

“What brings you here?”

“I’m Reckard, a hunter. I was told the branch chief here was looking for me.”

“Volka? Ah, don’t tell me... Are you a vampire hunter?”

“Shh!”

“?”

“Do not casually mention that monstrosity. You never know when or where it might be listening. I would appreciate it if you simply called me Reckard.”

What the hell was this? Delphi was inwardly dumbfounded, but nodded and said she understood.

Volka soon woke, wiping drool from his mouth as he stood.

“Ah, you’ve come. You’re the vampire hunter, correct?”

“...Call me Reckard. May I borrow some fire?”

“Of course. Follow me. There’s a fireplace upstairs as well.”

Volka led Reckard up to the third floor. It was a cozy place, like an attic.

There was no need to stoop, and it was just the right height for someone of average stature. Still, with the roof directly overhead, the rain sounded especially loud.

Volka lit a fire in the small stove connected to the chimney, then spoke.

“I’ll go get the others. Please wait a moment.”

Volka went back downstairs, woke Ricart, who had been checking his equipment before taking a nap, and returned with Ice, who had been organizing documents with Boribori.

“Hello. I’m Ricky.”

“Ice.”

Ricart and Ice, dressed in ordinary clothes, greeted him first.

Reckard had hung his cloak on a rack near the stove and was carefully inspecting his crossbow string. Several stakes and a wooden mallet lay around him.

“Reckard.”

Volka, Ricart, and Ice sat across from Reckard with the stove between them.

“What do you adventurers need me for?”

“We want to ask you a few questions about high vampires.”

Ricart spoke. Reckard immediately looked gloomy.

“High vampires... May I ask why you wish to know?”

“To kill one, if possible. Before that, we invited an expert so we could learn more about our prey.”

“Hmm... On my way here, I heard plenty about the reputations of Red Cape and Violet, but this is not a conversation to take lightly.”

“We’re not taking it lightly. We make our living by the sword. It can’t always be light.”

It was true, but Ricart still looked unmistakably young as he said it. Reckard quietly studied him.

Perhaps it was the contrast between his appearance and his great reputation, but he had a mysterious air about him. This was Reckard’s first time seeing Ricart, yet he could clearly sense something extraordinary in that presence.

“I do not mean to belittle you. Have you ever seen tiger hunters? The people who hunt great tigers capable of tearing even knights to death are surprisingly ordinary. They are not even particularly skilled fighters. Yet three people can kill a tiger. Each takes one pole and climbs the mountain. Hunting vampires is the same. Your swordsmanship will probably be of little help.”

“I understand.”

Ricart accepted it with surprising calm. Someone proud of their swordsmanship might have considered it an insult, but he felt no such way. He was here to listen.

Reckard was somewhat surprised by that.

“Good. Then let us do this. I will teach you how to find and capture vampires. Then I will show you how to catch one myself. After that, we can discuss high vampires. If you cannot even do this, talking about hunting a high vampire is absurd.”

Ricart looked once at Volka and Ice, then nodded.

Seeing how unexpectedly quiet the adventurers were, Reckard nodded as well and continued.

“There are two main ways to kill a vampire. The first is to raid where it sleeps after sunrise. There is no need to open the coffin. Place a stake on the lid and hammer it in. That is all. The other is to burn the whole place down. But that method is not very good. They do not die as quickly as you might expect. Still, unless they get into water, they keep burning. So if you weaken them with a silver weapon, they will continue burning until they die.”

“That sounds simpler than I expected. But how do we find a vampire’s coffin?”

“That is the key. Proper vampires have slaves under their command. Capture and torture them, then learn the location of their hideout. There is no need to feel guilty. They are people who betrayed humanity. They are the ones who supply humans to vampires.”

“Don’t we need garlic or holy water?”

Ice asked. Apparently, he believed in such things.

“Garlic is false information. That nonsense does not work. Holy water can inflict minor burns, but it is not fatal. Just remember this. Always raid after the sun rises. A stake is enough to kill them. Everything else is a supporting tool. Finally, never fight a vampire head-on.”

Since an expert had said so, Ricart simply nodded.

He, Ice, and Volka had never seen a vampire in their lives, so he thought it would not be a bad idea to see one for themselves before judging.

“Vampires usually stay in large cities. They do not stay long in small cities, towns, or rural areas because they are quickly discovered. But I recently received information that one is hiding in Gates, a city near here. Once preparations are complete, we will go punish that monstrosity. As long as you stay behind me, you will be safe.”

“Understood. We are always ready, so we’ll leave whenever you’re prepared, Mr. Reckard.”

“Very well.”

Ricart spoke with Reckard only about work. There was no personal conversation meant to help them get acquainted. It was not because they were indifferent or cold. They were each professionals in their own fields. They had not invited him to make friends.

Reckard set out three days later. Ricart and Ice gathered their equipment and followed him. They crossed the Main River by ferry and headed west.

Gates was a full day away. That was far or close, depending on how one looked at it. Still, the thought that a vampire lived somewhere so near was unpleasant and chilling.

Reckard met someone who might have been an associate or another person in the same line of work, gathered information, and then they left their belongings at an inn.

At dawn, he led the two into an alley.

After walking for around two minutes, they reached a place that was not quite a slum, but where people living day to day mostly resided. A faint sewer smell brushed their noses.

Yet the vampire’s hideout was surprisingly hidden in plain sight among ordinary people.

Reckard entered an old building where a vagrant might stay, then opened a cover leading underground. Ricart immediately caught a familiar scent.

The smell of death.

Reckard went down first with a torch held before him. Ricart and Ice followed.

Before long, they reached the basement and saw a coffin standing against the wall.

But the coffin lid was open.

Goosebumps rose across Reckard’s body. His associate had betrayed him.

“It’s a trap.”

Clunk.

The cover above them closed. Ricart reflexively raised his torch toward it.

But the answer came from the ceiling.

“You little rat bastard.”

Ricart looked up, and something leaped down, landing on the floor. A black cloak fluttered like wings.

The one who landed had skin as pale as a tuberculosis patient’s. Under the torchlight, red eyes gleamed.

“Your trail has grown long enough to be stepped on too, Reckard.”

Just as Reckard had been tracking vampires, it seemed the vampires had also been hunting Reckard.

And Ricart and Ice had come with him at the worst possible time.

The sun had risen outside, but not a single ray of sunlight entered the basement.

Instead of answering, Reckard quickly splashed holy water into the air and shouted.

“Run! Don’t look back!”

He drew a silver dagger, but the vampire blocked the holy water with its cloak and immediately reached for Reckard.

Before it could, a white light like a snowflake flashed through the dark basement.

It was Ice’s sword.

Thwack!

The vampire’s arm was severed.

Reckard had squeezed his eyes shut for an instant and did not know what had happened. The vampire only had time to think, What was that?

With monstrous reflexes, it hurriedly sprang back. But the space was narrow. Ricart drew his sword like lightning and rushed at it.

The vampire bared its teeth and kicked off the wall to tear into Ricart. Its spring and speed were difficult for a human to react to.

“Screeeech!”

But Ricart’s ability to judge distance and follow movement was also beyond human. In a place lit only by a torch, he watched the vampire with a firm gaze as though he could see through the darkness.

More than anything, he could almost see what his opponent would do in advance, as if he had foresight. It was the result of instantly combining every piece of information he sensed: the vampire’s gaze, current posture, the angle of its joints, its excitement, its state of mind.

The exact moment. The exact force. The exact angle.

One perfectly clean slash, with no need to strike twice.

Whoosh!

Slice!

The sword cut through the air, followed by a light sound, as though slicing through a radish in one stroke.

Its head flew off. Yet the headless body did not lose speed and crashed into the opposite wall.

Thud! Crash!

By the flickering torchlight, Ricart quietly looked down at the vampire’s severed head.

Its facial muscles moved violently on their own, then gradually stiffened. In an instant, it dried out and became like a mummy. It was a truly grotesque sight, but Ricart remained calm.

Interesting.

After confirming it was dead, he turned to Reckard.

“It looks like cutting off the head kills them even without driving in a stake.”

But Reckard could not answer. Like someone whose mind had stopped working, he stared blankly at Ricart for a long time before finally replying.

“...What?”

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