WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 71
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It was an open clearing some distance from the city. Dry grass grew all around, and crickets chirped in the night.
The moon hanging in the night sky was the only witness, quietly looking down on Ricart and the others.
A campfire burned, and beside it, someone lay bound hand and foot, begging with tears and snot streaming down his face.
“I, I have a family. They were taken hostage. I had no choice, no choice. Please...”
The pleading man was the one who had betrayed Reckard. Like a double agent, he had informed the vampires in advance that Reckard was coming.
It was a pitiful story, at least from the sound of it, but Reckard said nothing as he slowly heated a silver dagger in the campfire.
Ricart and Ice also looked indifferent to the desperate man’s sad tale. None of the three were easily swayed by human sentiment.
More importantly, Marley was lying. He had no family. There was no need for a special ability or interrogation to realize that much.
The only real thing was that he was trembling in fear. That alone was enough.
“You have two choices, Marley. Die painfully, or die quickly. Tell me everything you know. The other vampires’ hideouts, whether there are more traitors, all of it.”
The flames reflected in Reckard’s intelligent eyes flickered wildly, but the resolve beyond them was hard as stone.
The traitor named Marley looked back and forth between the heated dagger and Reckard with shaking eyes.
Then Marley suddenly began to snicker.
When fear drove someone to the edge, there was no telling where their emotions would go. It was impossible to know whether Marley had given up on life or accepted death.
They said you could know the depths of a thousand-fathom sea, but not the heart of a person. Still, a terrified person showed their true nature easily enough.
“Heh heh heh. Huh heh heh heh heh. Kek kek kek...”
Ricart, Ice, and Reckard merely watched his mad laughter with blank expressions.
“Reckard, Reckard, my friend. What do you gain from this? You kill vampires again and again, a hundred or a thousand, but who will thank you? Do you think vampires will disappear from the world? It’s all meaningless in the end, Reckard.”
“Why do you think so?”
Ricart, who had been quietly observing as though it did not concern him, asked the question.
Marley spoke with a trace of laughter still in his voice.
“Because living is too painful. If vampires disappear, will heaven come down? Do you think there’ll be salvation? Not a chance. The ones who torment humans most cruelly are not vampires, but other humans. So what if I work for vampires? The world won’t become any worse. And what’s wrong with making some money while I’m at it? That’s all it is. Fuck. Fuuuck! That’s all it is! Why are you all taking this so seriously!? A traitor to humanity!? Fuck that! Fuck!”
Perhaps because his emotions had overwhelmed him, Marley’s jaw trembled.
Yet the three neither agreed nor disagreed. That made it even more frightening.
“You know nothing, Marley.”
Reckard spoke calmly. He rose from his seat and approached Marley with the glowing red dagger in hand.
Only then did Marley begin trembling in fear again.
“H, hey, wait. I, I’ll give you money. I’ve got some saved up. Reckard, my friend. Just listen to me.”
Bound all over, Marley writhed like a worm. He rubbed against the ground in an attempt to get away, but there was no escaping Reckard’s slow approach.
Reckard pinned Marley’s head down with a knee, then stabbed and sliced through his throat with the dagger. The heated blade gave a brief sizzle, then quickly cooled.
Cough! Ghk! Cough! Grrrk...
Marley convulsed, then soon died. Reckard shoved the corpse with a foot, rolling it aside. Blood trailed across the ground.
He roughly covered the body with grass, then returned to the campfire.
A quiet night. Crickets chirping. A burning campfire. Stars and moon overhead. The smell of blood.
That was all that remained.
“To fall into corruption over money. Ridiculous. Most become slaves to vampires because they desire eternal life.”
He spoke bitterly as he wiped his dagger clean.
Having dealt with an ordinary vampire, all that remained was to tell them about high vampires.
Ricart and Ice remained silent and did not hurry him.
Reckard stared into the campfire for some time as though lost in thought, then opened his mouth.
“As you saw today, ordinary vampires usually live alone. That is because making other vampires weakens them. So vampires are very careful when making ‘children.’ Recklessly increasing their offspring even seems to be treated as a crime among them. The punishment is to put the offender in a coffin, nail it shut, and bury it deep underground. Then they cannot die, and they remain there forever, starving.”
“So they have rules of their own?”
“They do have rules, but they basically have no interest in one another. So don’t expect any proper order among them. In any case, vampires grow weaker with each successive generation. Their lifespans are only a little longer than those of humans, roughly eighty to a hundred years.”
“They have lifespans? Aren’t they immortal?”
In response to Ricart’s question, Reckard tapped his head with an index finger.
“That is about how long their minds can endure. Their bodies are immortal, but their minds cannot hold out. Eventually, they become nothing more than true monsters. Those are called ghouls. Have you heard of them?”
“Only heard of them. Monsters that eat people.”
“They are vicious and feral, but they have no intelligence, so they are not terribly difficult to kill. They wander through forests and are killed by beasts or werewolves. Sometimes farmers gather in a crowd and tear them apart with farming tools.”
For all their strength, they seemed to have clear weaknesses.
Well, otherwise, there would have been no reason for vampires to hide.
In the countryside, what was often called a witch hunt happened from time to time, and vampires were sometimes swept up and killed in those as well.
Besides, everyone in rural villages knew who their neighbors were and how they lived. If someone as gloomy as a vampire wandered in, they were noticed immediately.
That was why vampires mainly lived in large cities, in places like slums where no one cared if someone died.
“But there are always exceptions. Vampires close to the True Ancestor live well beyond a hundred years, and the power of their bloodlines is extremely strong. They form very closed families and live together. Such groups are called vampire families, and the vampires in them are commonly known as high vampires. They are fundamentally different from ordinary vampires. Famous families include Draken, Pasania, and Banshtein.”
Banshtein was the family of the vampire who was both client and target of this Special Rank request.
“I understand Banshtein is a count’s family. Did vampires become nobles?”
“I do not know that either. Perhaps one ancestor was a human who became a vampire, or perhaps a vampire family was granted a title. I cannot say. But no one can touch a family of that level. Not even the Emperor or the Holy Emperor. They simply leave them alone. They act as though they do not exist.”
“How can that be? I don’t understand.”
“I hear investigations are conducted from time to time, whenever people are about to forget. But every time, no evidence is found. So they leave them in some useless backwater and forget about them. People like me do not go out of our way to provoke them either.”
The Emperor and the Holy Emperor had threats far more urgent and far greater than vampires. Provincial nobles, cardinals, and secular families.
They could lose power or be deposed if they made one wrong move, so there was no reason to spend money and manpower on such matters.
Even so, Ricart found it difficult to understand.
At the same time, he could understand it a little.
It was more a feeling of unease. As though he had learned a secret about the world that he had no need to know.
“The most important thing when facing vampires is not letting your heart waver. Those abominations are truly frightening because they worm their way into the empty places in one’s heart and corrupt it. Remember that.”
With that, Reckard rose.
It seemed he intended to leave.
“To tell the truth, I do not know much about high vampires either. Still, it seems I did not know much about the two of you, either. I do not know why you intend to kill a high vampire, but I wish you good fortune in battle.”
Then he simply left.
Step. Step.
The sound of his footsteps gradually faded, soon swallowed by the darkness of the night.
“That wasn’t as useful as I expected.”
Ricart looked at Ice as he spoke.
Ice seemed to consider it alone for a moment, then said, “What do you want to do? Go back and report our progress to Volka? Or...”
“You mean go meet the client as we are?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm. Should we at least send a letter?”
“Let’s do that.”
They had originally agreed to return to Volka, discuss it, and then decide. But they could just go meet the client as they were.
It might have seemed somewhat headstrong, but adventurers were like that by nature. The thing every clan leader in the world struggled with most was keeping headstrong adventurers in line. Ricart and Ice were no different.
Still, was it not better than casually killing people and causing trouble?
There were plenty of adventurers in the world who were truly troublesome. Because of the nature of their work, the line between their profession and crime was faint.
Ricart stamped out the campfire and left.
All that remained was the corpse in the nearby grass.
But had Marley really fallen into corruption because of vampires? Everyone had greed for money.
Ricart sent a letter to Volka from Gates. He wrote that they had easily dealt with one vampire, and that after listening to Reckard, it did not seem there was much to worry about.
He wrote that Volka should not worry too much, and that he and Ice would leave for Banshtein.
Banshtein was an estate within the kingdom of Netherlant, far west of Ernberg.
People said that stopping by villages and cities along the way would take about a week.
Ricart gathered the supplies they needed in the city and set out with Ice. This was their first time adventuring alone together.
Autumn had fully arrived, and the wind was somewhat cold. The mornings and evenings were chilly enough that they had to take care with their clothing.
Ricart wore a red cape, while Ice wore a black one. Ice carried the bag, since he was a little older and knew how to handle mana.
No one immediately recognized Ricart just because he wore a red cape. Red capes had become fashionable because he had become famous.
However, red fabric dyed with the mineral cinnabar was expensive. Most people wore red capes dyed with extracts from flower petals instead. After a few washes, the color quickly faded to pink.
Ricart and Ice had once ranked first and second in the Academy pecking order. It was difficult to find opponents for either of them, so they did not worry much about safety.
The weather, however, was another matter.
Autumn rain fell from their very first day on the road, making the journey miserable.
The sun set earlier than expected, and they had no choice but to shelter from the rain in an abandoned house.
But people were already taking shelter there.
There were around fifteen men and women. Judging by their cheap clothes and jewelry, they seemed to be wandering prostitutes and a pimp.
“Welcome, young strangers. Here to lose your virginity?”
The pimp spoke with obvious teasing intent, and as expected, the prostitutes giggled.
Ricart and Ice did not respond. They settled in a corner and prepared to start a fire with kindling they had brought, but the pimp handed them a burning piece of firewood.
“Use this, young travelers.”
“Thank you.”
Ricart removed his hood as he thanked them.
The prostitutes’ eyes widened at his cute, handsome face.
“Oh? He’s cute.”
“Are you lost? Where’s your mother?”
“Want your big sister to hold you?”
Ricart only gave an embarrassed smile at their mischievous words.
The problem came when Ice took off his hood.
“Gasp!”
“Gasp!”
Every prostitute drew in a breath at the sight of Ice’s face.
His skin was white as jade, and his moonlit silver hair hung limp with rainwater. That alone made him seem pitiful and fragile.
His nose was perfectly straight, his face flawlessly proportioned, and more than anything, even when he did nothing, there was a deep sadness in his eyes.
His appearance stirred both maternal affection and the desire to be held in a woman’s heart.
Even the women who normally spewed vulgar jokes whenever they opened their mouths seemed unable to speak now.
The abandoned house fell quiet.
“This won’t do. Put your hood back on.”
“Yeah. Let me dry my hair first.”
“Fine.”
Ricart started a fire in the corner, sat down, and leaned against the wall. He set his sword across his knees or between his legs, keeping it close as though holding it to his chest.
“A, are you swordsmen? I thought you were some kind of princes.”
While the women secretly looked at Ice and fidgeted for no reason, the pimp at least spoke to them. His manner had changed from before.
“More precisely, we are adventurers. We are on our way to the kingdom of Netherlant.”
“Ah, so you are heading west. How kind of you.”
Kind? What had they done?
Apparently, Ice’s looks alone counted as an act of kindness.
In any case, since Ice had carried the bag, Ricart searched through it to prepare a meal. He intended to use up the potatoes and sweet potatoes first, since the moisture could make them sprout.
Then one of the prostitutes took the pot that had been sitting over their campfire and hurried outside. She collected rainwater, then began boiling something.
After some time, a savory smell rose from it. It seemed to be corn soup.
She added a few pieces of salted meat for seasoning, ladled it into bowls, and brought them to Ricart and Ice.
“Please, have some.”
She could not even properly meet Ice’s eyes. She must have fallen hard.
Ice really seemed to have an easy time living in the world.
Or perhaps it was bothersome in its own way.
“Thank you.”
Ricart took the bowls and handed one to Ice. With roasted sweet potatoes and potatoes on the side, the meal filled them up nicely.
The autumn rain fell, and the air was rather cold, but the abandoned house was not.
Though its owner was gone, travelers had happened to meet and filled the place. The warm air seemed to lift their spirits without them even realizing it, despite the awkward silence.
When traveling, one was bound to encounter strangers in one way or another. Unless they drew blades against one another, they were merely connections that passed by.
Still, there was a certain charm to that.
The pimp and prostitutes seemed to carry the hardships of tragic lives on their faces and in their wrinkled hands.
Yet they did not look intimidated or defeated.
The way they used vulgar, rough jokes as medicine for life’s fever reminded Ricart of the soldiers in Fernland long ago.
They and these people were merely soldiers fighting fiercely on the battlefield called life.
People who were satisfied that, even if most days were bad, they could laugh when they occasionally found a good day.
Ice’s appearance had made this a good day for them.
But happiness and unhappiness were two sides of the same coin.
Amazingly, they could turn over in an instant.
Footsteps outside drew closer, and more people entered the abandoned house.
No, they were not travelers.
Rough-looking men stepped inside, took one look at the pimp and prostitutes, and spoke.
“So here you are, you fucking bitches. You skipped the fee and ran, and you thought we’d just let you go?”
“You must think we’re complete pushovers.”
“Avoid beating them if you can. Damaged goods do not sell. You’ll have to turn tricks until you pay off your fee.”
Happiness was like a thin glass cup.
It shattered this easily.
Ricart and Ice stayed quietly in the corner, but the thugs noticed Ice.
“Wow, what’s this?”
“Pennant, do you sell men now too? But this one is the real deal.”
“N, no. Those people have nothing to do with me.”
“Shut up. We decide whether they do or not.”
Ricart looked at Ice.
“Let’s deal with this quickly and get some rest.”
“Yeah.”
“You first?”
“I’ll take the left side of the door. Ricky, take the right.”
“Got it.”
While Ricart and Ice spoke, the thugs grabbed a prostitute by the hair and tried to drag her out.
“Ah! W, wait! I’ll go! I’ll go!”
“No! Don’t touch me!”
“You fucking bitch! Have you lost your mind?”
Crash!
They kicked over the pot on the campfire, sending the savory corn soup spilling across the floor.
Then Ice rose to his feet and drew his sword.
“W, what is this? You want to try us?”
The thugs went cold at the sight of the carefully maintained blade.
But that brief hesitation was an opening as long as eternity for Ice. There was no need for him to show off his skill.
Whoosh! Thwack! Swish! Whoosh!
Thud. Thud.
As flashes of sword light flickered, the arms holding the prostitute’s hair were severed and dropped to the floor. After freeing the prostitutes, Ice cut off the thugs’ heads.
His sword swung horizontally, cleanly severing their necks.
Meanwhile, Ricart stopped a startled thug from drawing the weapon at his waist, then simply drove his dagger into the thug’s neck.
He kicked the thug over, then tripped the man whose hair had finally stood on end as he tried to flee. Ricart pressed the dagger to the back of his neck and cut hard.
The thug’s neck bones broke at once, and his body flopped like a fish.
It all happened in the blink of an eye.
There was no pointless grabbing of collars, no shouting match, and no time for screams.
Five healthy men died just like that.
Blood soaked the floor. Things had ended so quickly that the pimp and prostitutes could not immediately understand what had happened.
The pimp could only blink rapidly with wide eyes.
“Uh, uh... Uhhh...”
The pimp and prostitutes trembled uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Ricart and Ice calmly tossed the severed body parts outside the abandoned house.
Then they turned to the pimp.
“Let’s carry out the remaining bodies together.”
“No, I’ll do it.”
Ice activated Mana Drive and effortlessly lifted the corpses of the adult men, throwing them outside.
Only bloodstains remained on the floor and walls.
Ricart dragged his foot across the floor.
Scrape. Scrape.
He roughly covered the blood with dirt.
After cleaning everything up, the two returned to their corner and sat down.
Then they rested comfortably, as though nothing had happened at all.
To ordinary people, all of this was utterly bizarre.
Their swordsmanship was frightening enough, but how could they remain so calm?
In the end, the pimp and prostitutes left the abandoned house that night despite the rain.
They were too afraid to spend the night with Ricart and Ice.
To them, Ricart and Ice were far more terrifying than vampires, which they might never see in their entire lives.
Thus, the two monsters took over the abandoned house and spent the night there.
The sound of rain made it easy to sleep.
They had not acted because they wanted to call themselves champions of justice. It did not matter whether others feared them or found them unsettling.
The smell of blood was a little unpleasant, but the autumn rain soon masked it.
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