WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 85
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It was an age that had yet to conquer the darkness of night. When darkness fell thick, people believed demons and monsters lurked beyond it. Of course, some really did.
Every region had its share of eerie folk tales. But they could not make the home of brave knights tremble.
Only a few candles on the table lit the dark dining room. The people seated around it were visible only in vague outline from the front.
Ricart and Marie, his father and elder brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew.
There was no warm conversation. Everyone silently focused on eating. They tore bread and dipped it in soup, sliced salted meat, or spread butter over their food. There were no utensils, only hands and knives.
Marie was busy darting her eyes around at the overly quiet meal. Ricart's sister-in-law fed her young son bit by bit, making him taste everything first. The boy only stared at Uncle Ricky.
Compared to his stern father and grandfather, Fritzlit found Uncle Ricky fascinating and likable because he sometimes smiled whenever their eyes met.
When his doll-like little nephew, with blond hair and chubby cheeks, beamed at him, Ricart could not help smiling back.
“I heard you were poisoned.”
Having finished eating, Ricart's father, Abelich, wiped his hands and mouth and spoke as if tossing out a casual remark.
“Yes, well, I'm fine now.”
“That can't be. I don't know much about poison, but if breathing it in made you cough blood, you won't recover easily. When you have time, visit the main house and see Dr. Reno.”
It was his own way of showing concern. Ricart nodded to show that he understood.
Abelich did not ask his son, who had returned after so long, how he had been or what he had been doing. He left only those words before rising from his seat. He had not changed.
“I'm tired, so I'll turn in early.”
It seemed he was deliberately leaving them alone. He probably thought his presence would only make things uncomfortable.
He could have been warmer, but this was how the men of the Stormhertz Calderbern family showed consideration.
They neither gave their returning son a grand welcome nor made him feel unwelcome. They simply treated him as they always had, as if they had been together until yesterday.
Marie, of course, was a different case.
“My dear, you saved my son, and you are his fiancée. This is your home now as well. Make yourself comfortable. I will treat you as part of the family.”
For Abelich, this was warmth that might come once in a lifetime.
“...Oh? Yes. Thank you.”
Marie had been staring blankly, not even realizing he was speaking to her, before hurriedly answering. The family atmosphere was incredibly heavy. It made her think that Ricart must have been one of the brighter people in this household.
Once Abelich left, Ricart's sister-in-law rose with her son.
“Fritz? Shall we go to bed too? Say good night to your father, uncle, and aunt.”
“Mmm... G'night.”
The adorable boy stood straight and gave them a proper bow. Ricart wanted to give him a present, but he had nothing on him. Once he earned some money, he would send something later.
Marie tried to help when Ricart's sister-in-law began clearing the dishes, and the two had a brief little tussle. It was a warm sight.
“Oh, no. It's fine.”
“No, really. I'm an adventurer, so I'm good at this.”
As a Sword Master, Marie could easily snatch away dishes with a quick hand. She whisked them away so naturally that it was impossible to take offense.
In the end, only the eldest and youngest of the three brothers remained in the dining room. As if closing out the day, Graut poured wine into a cup made from an animal horn.
“Want a drink?”
“No. I can't drink.”
“You left the estate, and you still never drank?”
“I just never felt like it.”
“Then have one now.”
Graut held out a cup he had already filled. Ricart took it and tried some, but all he could taste was bitterness, and his face soured.
Graut smiled faintly, poured wine into another cup, and took a sip.
“The Emperor died. Are you all right?”
Ricart asked.
“Who knows? That's for the main house to decide. We don't know much about it.”
“The main house follows the duke. Broombeare, was it?”
Because of the feudal system, people did not care much whether the Emperor or a king died unless they were their direct lord.
The Calderbern family had received its land from an Emperor long ago, but they did not have a direct lord-vassal relationship with the Emperor.
They followed the Duke of Broombeare, a family descended from a branch of the imperial bloodline. The process that led to that was somewhat complicated, but in any case, the duke was a direct vassal of the Emperor.
In other words, the people directly affected by the Emperor's death were powerful figures like kings, dukes, and margraves. It was not something a backwater lord like them needed to worry about.
Of course, things would be different if war broke out, and dukes or kings joined it, calling up their vassals in great numbers. But it had not reached the point where anyone could say what would happen yet.
The Emperor's death was a matter of how the great nobles would take it and how they would respond.
Some might think, What does the Emperor's death have to do with me? Others might see it as an opportunity. Some might even try to declare independence while the imperial family was weak.
For now, no one could predict what would happen next. And even if they could, there was nothing they could do.
“How is life as an adventurer? And the Academy?”
“If I had to put it into words, I help people in trouble and solve problems. In the end, I solve them with sword fights. Academy life wasn't bad. For me, anyway.”
“As expected, you were extraordinary even as a child. What if we had discovered that talent earlier? Or if you had been born a little sooner?”
“Why are you asking that?”
“Who knows.”
Graut looked somewhat bitter. He had been taking on more and more of the work of managing the estate, and it was burdensome and difficult.
Having to say things people did not want to hear, treating them harshly, sometimes driving them without mercy. It all wore down the mind. To protect and lead an estate, there were many things he had to do even when he did not want to.
There had always been reasons for their father's sternness, and Graut was gradually becoming more like him.
“Is something troubling you?”
“...”
Graut did not answer, but he clearly had something on his mind. Ricart did not press him. He drank little by little and waited.
“Uh, don't tell Father.”
“This reminds me of when we were kids. We had so many secrets between us then. Billy would call something a secret, then tell everyone he could find. Then Mother would find out.”
Even when he had been young, Ricart had never once revealed a secret between brothers.
Graut gave a small smile, as if recalling those days. But his expression quickly turned worried again.
Looking embarrassed and reluctant, he hesitated for a long time before finally speaking.
“You know the Adventurer Guild? Do you know anyone there?”
“...I do, within the Beringen Guild. Why?”
“Could they, um, lower their fee?”
“What happened?”
Graut could not meet Ricart's eyes. After hesitating again, he spoke.
“Father is against it. He says our problems are ours to handle, and we cannot accept outside help.”
That sounded like their father. But what had happened? Ricart waited for him to continue.
After drinking quite a bit more wine, Graut spoke.
“Lately, there have been many outsiders around because of the swordsmanship tournament. Most of them are thugs. Chasing them off or killing them would be easy enough. But one day, someone came claiming to be an imperial peace officer. He said he needed food or money to feed his soldiers. His clothes, documents, and attendants all looked convincing.”
Ricart could roughly guess what had happened, but he still felt uneasy.
“The imperial family had never directly demanded anything from us before. But the tournament really was happening, and things around here were unsettled because of it, so I thought this might be a special case. So we provided food.”
“But it turned out he was a fraud?”
In short, they had been conned. It seemed impossible, but there were occasionally people bold enough to swindle nobles.
A common example was selling fake holy relics. But this case had been more convincing.
“If that had been the end of it, I wouldn't be telling you this. It seems he scammed others besides us. Then, using that, he actually gathered a force of his own. That rabble won't last long, but now he's openly threatening us. He demands money. Naturally, we ignored him. But the problem is that he's wandering around the area, claiming he's keeping the peace.”
It was obvious that he would use public safety as an excuse to rob people. And since he was operating outside their estate, the family could not do much about him.
If the imperial family had still been strong, they would have crushed people like this immediately. But it was hard to expect that from an imperial family in chaos.
If they left people like this alone, they might grow in number and eventually become an uncontrollable swarm of locusts, raiding everywhere.
Perhaps these were already signs of troubled times. Worthless people were beginning to run wild.
What angered Ricart most was that this man had dared to threaten his family and hometown.
“What is his name?”
“Luiginant. They call him Lucky Luiginant.”
“Sounds like a name from the west.”
The pronunciation was probably different in the west, but the tournament was a large one. Some strange man must have rolled in from far away.
“Probably.”
Ashamed and seemingly embarrassed to bring this up to his younger brother, Graut only fiddled with his empty cup. Seeing that made Ricart even angrier.
“Brother.”
“Hmm?”
“Look up. Why are you shrinking like that?”
“...”
“Do I make fun of you? Do I throw my name around because I've made something of myself as an adventurer? I know running an estate isn't easy. And strange things happen in life. So don't let this get you down.”
Graut's eyes widened. Ricart had rebelled once before leaving home, but in Graut's memory, his youngest brother had always been the gentle Ricky.
But now, he had the eyes of a warrior.
“I've traveled around enough to know. You can tell just by looking at people's faces whether their lord rules properly or not. People's expressions must be good because you're helping Father and doing well. That's enough. Don't lose sleep over a bastard like that. I'll leave by tomorrow. My friends will worry, so I can't stay long even though I'd like to. Forget the request fee. You'll hear good news soon. Don't worry.”
There was no suitable way to send a message, and if he was going to send one, he might as well return himself. That was why Ricart planned to head back to Ernberg quickly.
Graut only blinked and stared blankly at Ricart.
“You really grew up.”
“Of course. I've been earning my keep with a sword for three years. Do you think I'm still a kid?”
Ricart said it with a grin. Graut tilted his head, apparently still unable to get used to this side of his younger brother.
“Have you heard from Billy?”
Graut shook his head. Apparently, there had been nothing. Then he poured himself another drink and spoke.
“I guess I'm still not like Father. So, what was the Academy like? Tell me about it.”
“The Academy is one thing, but have you ever seen a vampire? The sea? You probably wouldn't believe half the things I've seen and heard.”
“Hey, you've only been gone three years. Are you calling me some country bumpkin?”
“You are from the countryside, aren't you?”
“You little!”
“Hahahaha!”
Perhaps because the alcohol was getting to them, the brothers finally began teasing each other. It felt as though another layer of the awkward mood had peeled away.
The world was harsh enough that brothers often drew swords against one another. Still, nothing created a sense of kinship quite like sharing the same blood.
Ricart and Graut drank until late at night, sharing their worries and talking about old memories.
When Ricart woke after drunkenly falling asleep, his face was buried in Marie's chest. Startled, he quickly got up, gathered his senses, and opened the window to clear his head. It was already full morning. Damn.
His father and brother left on patrol early in the morning, so he would not have time to say goodbye.
They could have delayed their work a little for a son who had returned after so long, but people in this family never did such things. Their thinking was that fresh food and a warm bed were enough. Why did they need to be affectionate too?
Ricart could sometimes seem cold to others, and perhaps it was all because of how he had been raised.
Work had to be done. If people missed each other because their schedules did not line up, that was unavoidable. You hoped they stayed well, and if you could meet again next time, you met again.
So Ricart did not feel hurt at all. If anything, he was glad they had not changed.
After waking Marie, washing up, and preparing for the journey, he was about to say goodbye to his sister-in-law and nephew when she hurriedly called out.
“Oh, right! This! Young Master, please take this. My husband told me to give it to you. He bought it by selling the horses.”
It seemed Abelich had sold the two horses he acquired after killing the bandits when he met Marie. They had been carriage horses, so they had no use for them, and selling them was better than paying to keep them.
The item Graut had sent was a sword. Ricart usually used longswords or greatswords, but this was an arming sword, also called a knight's sword, meant for one hand. Knights had to carry shields, after all.
The pommel, balanced with a round piece of iron, bore the family crest of a cross.
It was not his usual weapon, but Ricart could handle this as well. Worn at his waist as a secondary weapon, it was easier to carry. Until now, he had carried his sword over his shoulder.
“Thank you. I'll use it well.”
“And Father said you must visit the main house first. He wants you to see Dr. Reno before you go.”
They were not affectionate, but this was enough for Ricart to feel his father's concern and love. So he smiled gently.
“Don't be craven wherever you go. I hope you act with pride and courage. Sister-in-law, please take good care of the young master. May both of you have good fortune in battle.”
As expected of a woman from a knightly family, she did not tell them to be careful. Ricart stroked his nephew's head one last time before saying goodbye.
“Take care, Fritz. I'm leaving. Come on, Marie.”
Ricart strapped his new sword to his waist and set off. He did not look back, almost to the point of seeming heartless.
He had rested enough, received what he needed, and had nothing to leave behind here. What he would leave behind was the good news he had promised his elder brother.
Ricart did not head for the main house first. He set out to find Lucky Luiginant.
He had not shown it in front of his family, but Ricart's urge to kill had been boiling inside him since last night.
That rotten bastard. I'll kill him.
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