WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 96

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Sometimes, there was a certainty that even if they acted recklessly, they would not get hurt.

There was no explaining why. It was simply a feeling.

There was no way to know whether traps lay ahead or whether they had already passed through the entire trap zone. They could die, yet it somehow did not matter.

It was like exhilaration. The thirty or so adventurers felt as though they had become one, their emotions rising until they would have had no regrets even if they died now.

Darkness could not dare threaten them.

Come out, demon. We will stab you to death.

Several people ran ahead holding torches. The sound of more than thirty people pounding over the stone floor echoed chaotically through the corridor.

A huge door appeared before Ricart, who was running at the front. Without slowing down, he ran even faster and slammed his shoulder into it.

Bang!

A bright flash burst before his eyes.

The great door flew open with a rattle, and sunlight poured in. Ricart squeezed his eyes shut, lost his balance, and finally fell. He felt dirt beneath him.

Ricart sprang up, put a hand to his forehead, and slowly opened his eyes with a frown.

His first impression was that he had arrived in a garden.

It was an open-air garden built inside a structure. He had heard that the Salamans built in such a style, but this did not seem like someone had deliberately copied them.

The others arrived after him, frowning for a moment as they gradually adjusted to the sunlight.

Looking around, Ricart saw a square space open to the sky, with colonnades lining its sides.

Beyond the columns were doors leading east, west, south, and north. The way Ricart had entered from was the east.

“Where are we?”

“More importantly, what the hell is this?”

Marie, who had arrived second, looked around as she spoke. An oak-like tree stood in the middle, surrounded by various plants.

It was autumn, and the leaves were turning yellow and red. A thin layer of fallen leaves already covered the ground. There was also a small fountain, and its water looked remarkably clear.

“Can we drink this?”

With their escape route cut off, many had not brought food or water. Ricart was no exception.

“I’ll try it.”

One of the adventurers bravely stepped forward. Before anyone could stop them, they bent over and drank deeply from the fountain, apparently parched.

Everyone watched. They looked fine on the surface, but there was no telling whether something might happen later.

“Let’s avoid drinking it if we can.”

“It seems fine to me. I’m drinking.”

“Me too.”

Despite Ricart’s advice, those who wanted to drink simply did.

“This is the Garden of Contemplation. The water comes from underground, so poisoning it would be pointless. It should be safe to drink.”

Ice spoke. It seemed he had visited this place during his time in the Church.

The moment he finished speaking, everyone, including Ricart, rushed to the fountain and drank greedily. They drank until their stomachs felt a little full.

What were they going to do if they needed to piss later?

Volka wiped his mouth and asked, “Where do we go from here?”

“To the south are the training rooms and dormitories. The punishment chambers are north. West is probably the way to the temple where the holy sword is kept.”

“What do you think?”

Volka asked Ricart because no one could match Ricart’s judgment in a real battle.

Ricart thought quietly before answering.

“I think south would be safer. We might join up with people coming from that direction, and Ice knows the layout well.”

“Didn’t you say we were going to finish this?”

“I only said that to raise everyone’s spirits because things were urgent. We need to adapt to changes in the situation.”

“Really? Still... I really do want to finish this. Anyone disagree?”

The adventurers, who were drinking and catching their breath all around them, raised no objections. They seemed eager to keep this high going.

But when they had room to breathe, they needed to judge things carefully and coolly. Ricart tried to control the pace.

“Marie, give me some agarwood.”

“Yeah, wait a second.”

Marie pulled a small pouch from her clothes and placed a suitable amount of agarwood into a small tube with a notch at one end. Fortunately, some people had brought torches. She lit it and held it beneath Ricart’s nose.

By now, he was used to taking deep pulls of the smoke. Before long, the pain throbbing in his lungs began to fade.

Daisy was watching him quietly.

Had she come along too? Ricart thought she was tenacious. Or perhaps just that desperate.

But this was the time to focus on the situation.

“Lay down the wounded first. Use potions if you have them. Let’s check our equipment. Anyone without a weapon?”

The wounded were those struck by arrows earlier, and there were only a few. Several people raised their hands when asked about weapons. Their weapons had broken or been dropped while they were charging forward.

Strangely, no one had died.

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll enter first. Once I clear the way and make sure there’s nothing wrong, the next person follows. If I die to a trap or an unexpected ambush, watch and figure out why I died. Then Boribori clears the way. Ice after that, then Marie. That way, we should be able to make it to the end.”

“...”

Ricart spoke casually about leading the way even if it meant his death, and silence fell.

Then everyone began speaking at once.

“I’ll go with you.”

“If Ricky dies, who gives the orders?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to go in pairs at minimum?”

“After coming this far, why do we need to split up?”

No one wanted Ricart to take that risk. He appreciated the feeling, but he had not volunteered to lead for no reason. His eye for things and instincts were the best.

Still, he could not help smiling.

“Then Marie, Bori, Ice, and I will go together, keeping some distance between us.”

They still did not seem happy about it, but it was not good to keep arguing with their leader. If they kept some distance, it should be fine. It would minimize casualties, and they could help one another if necessary.

“Don’t go, Ricky...”

Daisy spoke, and everyone looked at her.

Their faces clearly said, Who the hell is she to follow us all the way here and start this shit?

They already disliked her for being from the Church, though Ice was too. The adventurers merely glared at her and said nothing.

But to Daisy, Ricart was the only person in the world. Her parents were dead, she did not know what would become of the Church, and she had nowhere to go.

Marie did not look at Daisy, but her expression was complicated. She felt sympathy for her, yet she also disliked her. Sometimes, incompatible feelings coexisted in a human heart.

After finishing the smoke, Ricart looked at Daisy from where he sat.

“Why do you keep insisting that I run away?”

“God will be resurrected. Then everyone will die. How could I let you die, Ricky?”

“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that we do as you say. Let’s say we escape successfully and live peacefully somewhere quiet. Then that would not be me. The Ricky you want so badly would not exist. Do you understand what I mean?”

Daisy could not understand. To her, prophecy was absolute. It was something that had to happen. How could she understand walking toward certain death?

Her heart broke, and tears welled in her eyes. She tried hard to hold them back, but everyone could see it.

“...Then I’ll come too...”

“Hey, that’s...”

“Wait, Ricky.”

Unexpectedly, Marie stepped in. Like Ricart, she was strong toward the strong but weak toward the weak. She especially understood Daisy’s feelings, so she could not be cruel.

“You can come. I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but I understand how you feel. Still, remember this. We cannot be responsible for your safety.”

That was as far as Marie could extend her kindness.

Perhaps Daisy felt humiliated to receive consideration from her romantic rival. Perhaps she was miserable over her circumstances. Or perhaps she was still only worried about Ricart. With her head lowered, she only let tears fall.

Ricart was not at ease either. He deliberately turned away and stood up.

Even when he drew a deep breath, there was no pain. He wanted to finish this before the medicine wore off.

He passed through the columns, went to the western door, and kicked it open.

Bang!

The door flew open, revealing a narrow passage with brick ceilings, floors, and walls. It looked like the sort of place that would be full of traps.

Ricart sharpened his focus until his senses were at their peak, then stepped forward. Marie, Ice, and Boribori followed at a slight distance, in that order.

Daisy followed all the way as well. Did she intend to die with him if Ricart died?

In any case, Ricart ran his hand lightly along the wall as he walked at neither a slow nor fast pace.

Then he spotted someone standing before him.

Without a word, the person drew a sword, and a beam of light burst from its blade.

“Ricky, switch places with me.”

Marie spoke from behind.

“No. I can do this.”

Ricart drew the sword at his waist and walked toward the opponent. In such a narrow place, there was nowhere to dodge. Could Ricart, who was not a Sword Master, take the other person’s sword?

Unexpectedly, Ricart attacked first.

The opponent swung their sword to meet Ricart’s, as if intending to cut through both blade and body at once.

But Ricart had meant to sacrifice his sword. He let it be cut, twisted his body, and closed in on the opponent. He was certain he would win if it came down to grappling.

Clang!

Ricart’s sword broke. At the same time, his left hand seized the opponent’s forearm.

At such close range, the opponent should have abandoned the sword and begun grappling too. Yet the Church’s Sword Masters strangely lacked the ability to respond to situations and the broader combat skills beyond swordsmanship.

It was the typical trait of someone who had trained only in a dojo, without real combat experience.

They became Sword Masters through bizarre methods, so they were nothing but empty shells. Of course, becoming a Sword Master that way was not easy either.

Ricart yanked the opponent’s arm and smashed his head into their face. Their nose broke. At the same time, Ricart gripped their throat with his right hand and squeezed hard.

Crack.

After killing the opponent in an instant, Ricart took their sword as his own.

If his sword broke, he could just use theirs. Since it had belonged to a Sword Master, its quality was quite good.

Ricart stepped over the corpse and continued forward. Another opponent appeared.

Holding the longsword in one hand, Ricart extended his bare hand as though measuring the distance.

To the opponent, Ricart looked bizarre.

His swordsmanship had been learned only on battlefields and in real combat. His stance changed from moment to moment, and to an unfamiliar observer, it seemed to have obvious weaknesses and no foundation.

Yet it was the swordsmanship of the God they worshiped.

They could not recognize it even while seeing it before them.

This time, Ricart pretended to go for a grapple, then drew a dagger and stabbed the opponent in the throat before slitting it open. He took that person’s sword as well and continued onward.

Then he encountered a third enemy.

After seeing the two before them die, the enemy suddenly pressed a brick in the wall.

Both walls began slowly closing in.

Grrrrrr...

“Huh?”

“Ricky?”

His friends’ voices came from behind, but the opponent seemed prepared to die and had no intention of stepping aside.

They meant for everyone to die together.

Ricart panicked and charged straight in. There was no time for clever improvisation. In his urgency, he launched an attack that traded flesh for bone.

The opponent’s sword flashed toward Ricart’s abdomen, but the jin silver breastplate was so strong that it did not fully pierce through. Instead, it forced the blade aside.

Screeeech!

In that instant, Ricart held his dagger in a reverse grip and drove it into the opponent’s face with the force of his charge.

Then he shoved the body away and sprinted forward without hesitation. The walls were still closing in. His side burned, but he was too desperate to feel the pain.

Fortunately, the exit was not far away. Once Ricart escaped the passage, his friends came out one after another. Even Daisy, who was faster at running than expected, made it out before the walls fully met.

The place they had entered was impossibly grand.

Enormous pillars stood in long rows on either side.

Delicate carvings covered the pillars, all depicting people suffering or scenes of horror.

Ricart examined his wound. The side of his jin silver armor had been cut, and blood was pouring from it.

“Ricky!”

Alarmed, Marie quickly sat Ricart down. She removed his armor, tore his clothes, and poured a potion over the wound. Then she tried to make him drink the rest of it, but Ricart turned his head away.

“It’ll make me sleepy if I drink it. I think we’re almost there.”

Honestly, it was not a life-threatening wound. If he used the potion, he would definitely survive. But given the situation, he was unsure what to do.

“Just drink it. We might have gotten here first. You can sleep for a bit.”

Marie said this as she forcefully pressed the potion bottle to Ricart’s lips.

So Ricart had no choice but to drink it.

He sat against a pillar and caught his breath. Before long, sleep began to overwhelm him. His eyes slowly closed, and someone’s voice brushed past his ears.

In the enormous corridor, a stranger was speaking in their direction.

It was someone wearing a pointed hood like the one Ricart had seen in the first trap corridor.

The person was speaking to Ice.

“Apostate.”

The person removed the pointed hood, and Ice froze upon seeing them.

It was the priest who had trained Ice as a child. The same one who had made him spit on his dead younger sibling.

Ice had felt uneasy for some time, and now his trauma erupted. He could not think at all. He gasped so hard that breathing was more difficult for him than it was for Ricart with his lung disease.

“Is this how I taught you?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Boribori spoke in a warning tone.

But the priest ignored Boribori and spoke to Ice like a ghost from the past.

“This is your last chance. The Resurrection is near. Come to me. Then you and your younger sibling will both be saved. Otherwise, you will suffer in hell forever. Your younger sibling will go to hell because of you as well.”

“Don’t talk such nonsense!”

Marie, who had been silently listening, flew into a rage and drew her sword to kill the priest.

Then it happened.

Clang!

Ice drew his sword like lightning and knocked Marie’s blade away. Marie staggered from the unexpected impact.

She and Boribori stared at Ice in disbelief.

With a vacant expression, Ice confronted his friends as if he were protecting that false priest. His sword was pointed at them.

Had he not been saved? Was he wavering now?

“Hey...”

Boribori called to Ice with a nearly devastated expression. His voice trembled as though this could not be happening.

Disappointment and betrayal slowly rose from deep in his heart. It felt as though all the time they had spent as friends had been a lie.

“Pant... Pant... Pant...”

Ice could not say anything. He only kept gasping for breath.

“That’s right. Ice, kill those unbelievers. It does not matter if you die fighting them. This is martyrdom, and you will go to heaven.”

But even Ice could not immediately charge at his friends. He seemed to be suffering in terrible conflict.

Still, he did not lower his sword.

Boribori felt as though his heart were being torn apart.

How could this happen? How could a person do this? He had understood that Ice was a heretic. Even when the Church was persecuted, he had protected Ice to the end.

Anger began to rise in him. He was so angry that he nearly cried.

“Marie, take Ricky and go. I’ll kill him.”

“Bori...”

Boribori spoke to Ice.

“To be honest, I didn’t like you from the first time I saw you. Still, I was grateful to you too, you know? But, Ice...”

Boribori’s eyes reddened as he slowly drew his sword. The days they had shared flashed through his mind.

“You’re no match for me now.”

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