WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 86
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It was like a light cutting through darkness. That was a Sword Master’s blade. As if it had cut away a piece of the night, a purple flash shone vividly, neither bright nor dark.
“Whoa...”
For the first time in a while, Ricart had built a campfire and was camping outdoors. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with Marie, he admired her sword.
Honestly, it was not because it was impressive. He was simply fascinated. In his previous life, he himself had been the first Sword Master to make golden flames rise from a blade. But it had been a long time, and now someone close to him was a Sword Master.
Marie bashfully withdrew the light and sheathed her sword again.
“How does it feel?”
“I don’t really know. It just feels like... why didn’t I know this before? Like I was born with another arm or leg and only just discovered it.”
“So even though you’ve become a Sword Master, you don’t know what comes next?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it’s just a sword that cuts well.”
“Yeah. That’s what I think too.”
Ricart and Marie seemed to think little of being Sword Masters. But looking at it another way, perhaps people simply overestimated them.
Sword Masters still got hungry and tired. They were made of flesh and bone, could be wounded by blades, and could die like anyone else.
Even so, people considered them extraordinary for two reasons.
First, in an age when the quality of iron was inconsistent, swords were difficult to use on the battlefield. It was common for them to break after only one or two swings, so they were mostly used as secondary weapons.
In such an environment, having a sword that could cut through armor and shields like cheese was already an absurd ability in itself.
The second reason was because someone had left behind an utterly overwhelming precedent.
Ricky, the first Sword Master.
Those who had experienced Ricky vaguely believed that becoming a Sword Master meant you could defeat even the Emperor’s elite forces alone and become invincible.
But if someone traveled back in time and asked Ricky from that era why he was so strong, he might have answered like this.
“I think it’s important to know how to use yourself as a piece on the board. If you can read the bigger picture of a fight and use yourself properly, you can show tremendous power without being a Sword Master. But if a Sword Master does that? At that point, they’re practically an army by themselves.”
“That sounds like you’re saying becoming a Sword Master is only the beginning.”
“First, what is the objective? Second, how do we win? Third, how do we fight? It sounds obvious, but I’ve barely seen anyone truly keep those things in mind and put them into practice. Other than Caldebert.”
“Huh?”
Marie was puzzled by the unfamiliar name. Or rather, she had heard it before, but she had not imagined that the Caldebert Ricart meant was the heroic knight from over a hundred years ago.
“Oh, I know someone by that name. Anyway, those three principles are where you start. First, what’s our objective?”
“To kill Lucky Luiginant.”
“And then?”
“How do we win? Um, shouldn’t we cut off his head?”
“Ah, no. You have to think about the enemy. First, he’s an outsider. Even if he gathered forces, he won’t have many, and their discipline will be terrible. Besides, do you think the men following him are loyal?”
Ricart spoke like a teacher. When he explained swordsmanship, he spoke in vague terms that were hard to understand. But this was easy enough to follow.
So Marie listened intently.
“No.”
“Then we won’t have to fight all the forces he gathered. Men who come together easily scatter just as easily.”
“So how?”
“That is the second question. How do we win? Always remember this. Observe first. Everything. No matter how many enemies there are or how strong they are, observe first. It’s good to gather as much information as possible, quickly and accurately. You get better at it with practice.”
Marie stared at her fiancé after Ricart’s detailed explanation.
“What?”
“...How do you know all this, Professor?”
“Who knows?”
“By the way, how is your chest?”
“The same. It hurts when I take a deep breath.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to see Dr. Reno?”
“I don’t really want to stop by the main house.”
“Why?”
“It’s just uncomfortable. And he isn’t a physician. He merely holds a doctorate. It would be better to ask a real physician later.”
Marie stared at Ricart again. This time, something was different. Ricart could read what she was thinking from her expression.
Marie still wanted to see Dr. Reno. But would this stubborn man listen if she said so? And if she brought it up, it might turn into an argument.
Marie knew it, and Ricart knew it too. So an odd silence followed.
“Fine. Once we’re done, we’ll stop by for a little while.”
Marie grinned.
“Your father told us to, remember? I’m not forcing you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Ricart nodded as if he understood.
Was he not worried at all, even though he was not in good condition? And they were going to kill a man who cheated and threatened noble lords.
It went beyond recklessness. It was truly strange. How could he be like this? But Marie liked that about Ricart.
An ordinary person would have made a fuss, been discouraged, or fallen into despair. Yet he simply carried on as though nothing much had happened.
She thought even misfortune could not torment him.
Marie naturally slipped into Ricart’s arms and, contrary to the happiness she felt, said,
“Idiot.”
“Out of nowhere?”
“Idiot.”
“Sure. I suppose I could be.”
Ricart held her too. It was a cold autumn night, but with the fire and each other, they had no time to feel the cold.
Luiginant had been going around threatening and cheating people everywhere, so he was not difficult to find.
It was the road leading out of the County of Calderbern toward Rainfurt. It was not the road Ricart had taken with Arno three years ago. They had used a side road then, while this one was frequently traveled.
There was a checkpoint right at an intersection. Two mercenaries stood guard with halberds, and after looking around, Ricart spoke to Marie.
“Let’s go up there.”
Ricart climbed a mountain path thick with low branches. Once they had climbed high enough, they could see the checkpoint and what looked like a temporary guard post behind it.
After scanning it for about ten seconds, Ricart asked Marie like a teacher questioning a student.
“What do you see?”
“Hmm, there are only... seven or eight of them? I could handle them alone.”
“Now, now. You can’t blindly rush into a fight just because you trust your skill with a sword. Look more closely.”
“Hmm... Their clothes are neat, they’re wearing colorful things, they’re well armed, and... is that person their leader?”
Marie had never experienced a real battle, so it was understandable that she did not know. Ricart pointed things out one by one.
“Colorful clothes mean they’re mercenaries. Once enough of them gather, they have decent fighting strength. Mercenaries like to dress up, but once battle begins, they become ragged in no time. So if they look ragged but their weapons are well maintained, that means they’re dangerous. But these ones?”
“They’re far too neat.”
“Right. That means they don’t really want to fight. They’re just going to stick close to Luiginant, make some money, and leave. Understand?”
It was knowledge that could only come from tremendous real combat experience.
Ricart asked again.
“And what else?”
“Can’t you just tell me?”
“Think, Marie.”
“What can I do if I don’t know...?”
“Seven or eight grown men don’t eat a small amount each day. Do you think they farm there or something? From what I can see, they brought only a little food and take turns on duty, because there’s a city nearby. It makes no sense to threaten lords with only that many people in the first place.”
“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”
“It’s harvest season, when people sell their surplus food and merchants travel actively. If they block the road and collect tolls, they can make a good profit. But did you know mercenaries don’t only chase money?”
“Really? Then what do they chase?”
“Money is the biggest reason, but they’re very sensitive to the political standing of the person they follow. What I mean is, even if they fight when needed, there can’t be trouble afterward. They can’t become rebels. If they become rebels, it doesn’t end with simply leaving the war. They’re hunted down to the end and brutally executed.”
Marie only understood enough to think, Oh, I see. She could not imagine how to use that.
“Let’s become peace officers.”
“Huh?”
“We’ll be official peace officers dispatched by the Imperial Court. Then Luiginant naturally becomes an impostor. How dare he impersonate an imperial peace officer? What is the punishment for that?”
“Forgery of imperial documents or impersonating an official is punishable by execution through dismemberment.”
Even without involving the Imperial Court, those who went around impersonating others were punished by having their limbs torn apart. Marie had seen such cases a few times as a child.
“But will they believe us?”
“You can show them your sword.”
“Huh?”
“Say the glowing Sword Master is the new Emperor’s Champion. And you’re my guard.”
“Uh...”
Marie had no sense of authority or superiority, but she was not sure whether it was right to use a Sword Master’s sword like this. Still, Ricky said they should.
“I don’t even need to draw my sword to kill the likes of him. Let’s go.”
Ricart came down the mountain path again. With a sword at his waist, he strode boldly toward the fake checkpoint.
The mercenaries, who had been standing around carelessly with their halberds resting on their shoulders, looked at him.
They immediately said,
“The toll is half of everything you’ve got.”
It was complete nonsense. As expected, they were nothing but highway robbers.
Ricart widened his eyes and shouted at once.
“Now, you scoundrels! Do you know who I am? I am a peace officer dispatched by His Majesty the Emperor! So you are the rabble causing disorder throughout this region!”
The mercenaries blinked at Ricart’s shout. They did not immediately bow and scrape, instead carefully examining his appearance.
“I heard the Emperor was dead...”
“How dare you! The late Emperor has passed, so naturally the Crown Prince will ascend the throne! How dare you speak of His Majesty’s death! This will not do! Champion!”
Ricart shouted confidently, unaware that the Crown Prince had been killed by Bellator. Of course, no one here knew that either.
Marie continued to wonder if this was right, but she drew her sword and made it shine.
Only then did the mercenaries’ eyes widen. A Sword Master. She had to be the Emperor’s Champion. But she was a young woman. What was going on?
“For the crime of insulting His Majesty the Emperor! For following one who impersonated me! Champion! Cut down these traitors!”
“W-Wait! We did not recognize you!”
“Wait, please! We don’t know anything! Really!”
“W-We thought he was a real peace officer! We were only hired! We never intended to defy the Imperial Court!”
At Ricart’s furious command, the mercenaries immediately threw down their weapons, fell to their knees, and bowed their heads. Ah, the taste of power really was sweet.
But when Marie actually tried to cut off their heads, Ricart quickly grabbed her sleeve and shook his head. Do not really kill them.
Ricart furrowed his brow and pretended to consider it before speaking.
“Hmm... Fine. His Majesty the new Emperor has only recently ascended the throne. Spilling too much blood would not be auspicious.”
“Y-Yes! God would want the blood of virgins or lambs as an offering, not filthy men like us!”
Ricart had no idea what kind of nonsense that was, but he planned to have them lead him to Luiginant.
“However, we cannot leave an impostor unpunished. Lead me to him. We must capture him, tear him limb from limb, and kill him. And remove these crude things.”
“Understood! We will obey your command!”
Thinking they had escaped death, the mercenaries rose energetically and cleared away the checkpoint and temporary guard post, practically tearing them apart.
Then, gripping their weapons, they led Ricart and Marie toward the city. They seemed to have escorted high nobles or wealthy people before, because they formed a proper protective formation around them.
With sharp angles and upright postures they usually did not bother with, they guarded the Emperor’s peace officer. There was no need to go this far, but Ricart felt himself stiffening with importance as well.
When they entered the city like that, every passerby looked at them. They clearly seemed like important people.
The rest of the mercenaries were scattered throughout the city, harassing local women or enjoying themselves. When they suddenly saw their comrades solemnly escorting someone, they felt that something was wrong.
They sensed that things had gone completely bad. Mercenaries were sensitive when it came to life and death, and their instincts for such things were almost supernatural.
So they sobered up at once or released the local women they had been tormenting. Then they either hid or awkwardly joined the group, pretending to escort them too.
When they reached the largest tavern in the city, the mercenary with a halberd opened the door for Ricart. The scent of powder and alcohol immediately washed over his face.
Inside, Ricart saw a man literally spending money like water, drunk on gambling and women. He knew at a glance that this had to be Luiginant.
“Stupidity doesn’t care about rank, I tell you! People’s problem is thinking nobles know everything just because they’re nobles. Really, they’re careless idiots. Morons.”
Perhaps because his scams had gone well and he thought himself someone important, he loudly acted as if he knew everything.
But the people around Luiginant saw Ricart and the mercenaries, and their expressions stiffened in alarm.
“When I was in the west, I probably fucked around ten noble ladies! But then...”
Luiginant was the last to notice the strange atmosphere. He slowly turned his head, following the others’ gazes.
He found a young man with a sword, a woman, and the mercenaries under his command all staring at him.
Ricart smiled faintly at him. Then he slowly walked over, pulled up a chair, and sat down beside him.
“Ah... Luiginant. Are nobles such easy marks? I’d like to hear more.”
“Uh... who are...?”
“The Emperor’s peace officer.”
“...The Emperor should be dead...”
“Yeah, he is dead. And you’ll die too. But depending on what you do, I may spare you.”
In the deathly quiet tavern, Luiginant looked around once more. Seeing the mercenaries’ stiff faces, he realized things had gone wrong and that they had already turned against him. Nobles should not have been able to react this quickly. They did not have the ability.
By the time the lords gathered armies to respond, he would simply run off with the money. Luiginant was skilled at such things.
But now that things had started going well, he had not expected such a quick response. The Emperor had only died recently, and they sent a peace officer?
Luiginant looked at Ricart again.
“Uh, what...?”
“Who is behind you, and the money.”
“B-Behind me? There is no one. And the money...”
“Is it too precious? Then die.”
“N-No! Wait! The money is in the vault of the Rainfurt Goldsmiths’ Guild. Just let me go there...”
Ricart could tell from his eyes that he was lying. There was no money. He had spent it all on entertainment.
Ricart considered what to do for a moment, then nodded as though he understood.
“Fine. I will wait here, so go and bring back the money. If you run, I will pursue you to the end.”
“Of course! Of course! I will definitely retrieve the money and return!”
Thinking he had survived, Luiginant hurried to his feet. Then he left the tavern, where a painful silence hung in the air.
Ricart spoke to the mercenaries.
“Capture that man, tear him limb from limb, then cut off his head. Hang each piece of torn flesh before the city gate, and send the head to Stormhertz. Then you will be pardoned.”
Before he had even finished speaking, the mercenaries poured outside. Ricart looked over the half-eaten food spread across the table, then picked up a cup and took a sip of expensive liquor.
Then he looked at the tavern owner and spoke leisurely.
“Refund what is left.”
“Pardon?”
“Isn’t there food left?”
“Ah... y-yes. Understood.”
“And return the money for the women. I didn’t sleep with any of them.”
Rather than merely giving a refund, the tavern owner brought all the money Luiginant had spent that day. It was a full ten gold coins. When it came to entertainment, money had a way of flowing away like water.
Ricart also took all the money scattered across the table for gambling.
The people could only watch the Emperor’s peace officer in silence. They just hoped he would take whatever money he wanted and leave as quickly as possible.
Around then, a scream came from outside.
“Why? Why? I said I’d bring the money back! Wait! I, I, Aaaaaaagh!”
Listening to Luiginant’s dying screams, Ricart ate the remaining food.
Then, apparently finding it unpleasant, he threw a chicken bone onto the table. Smack! He rose from his seat. The people watching in silence flinched.
Outside, the mercenaries were hanging Luiginant’s torn body from poles.
“We will put the head in a sack of salt and deliver it.”
One mercenary approached and spoke. They were professional, as though they had done this once or twice before.
Mercenaries had the rough side of common thugs, but they were professionals as well. When it was time to act, they acted properly. They were expensive and difficult to manage, but that was another matter.
Ricart stopped by the Imperial Guild Office and sent the money he had taken from the tavern back to his hometown. It was a modest amount, but more than enough to make up for the losses.
Then he quietly left the city with Marie and headed for the main house.
To see Dr. Reno.
“You really killed him without even drawing your sword?”
Marie spoke. She had been worried because Ricart was not in good health, but he had handled it without lifting a finger.
“Smart people are often good at understanding everyone else, but bad at understanding themselves. He said nobles were careless, but he didn’t realize that he was careless too. The world must have seemed easy to him. But that is how luck runs out.”
“Professor, there’s nothing you don’t know.”
“It’s only the beginning, my disciple. Diligently refine yourself.”
He said it half as a joke, but it was true. If Marie, a Sword Master, learned Ricart’s strategy, tactics, combat knowledge, abilities, and techniques, she might truly become as invincible as Ricky had been in his previous life.
The Sword Masters Ricart had defeated, as well as those currently living, had not surpassed the limits of being swordsmen.
To truly become weapons of war, there was no way but to gain countless experiences in battle. The problem was that one might die while gaining those experiences.
That was why knowledge taught by an experienced person was more precious than gold.
But Marie merely smiled and played around.
“I don’t want to.”
“Huh?”
“Ricky can do everything for me.”
Marie smiled as she teased him, and Ricart laughed too.
“What a terrible disciple.”
Bellator could also be called Ricart’s disciple, yet he was entirely different from Marie. Bellator had not missed the opportunity of a lifetime, following Ricart’s teachings, and had carried out a bold and admirable murder.
One was an excellent disciple, and one was an inattentive disciple. But it was impossible to know which was right. Whether it was right to faithfully follow the teachings or right to simply fool around.
In truth, if one carefully examined what Ricart taught, it was chilling and horrifying. Of course, how one used it depended on the learner.
As they walked together, Marie kept playfully nudging Ricart with her shoulder. She was quite the rude disciple, always clinging to him.
Chapter 17: Back Home Again. End.
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