Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Chapter 43

At the girl’s declaration that she was heading to the Beringen Academy, Rickart and Boribori stared at her.

Technically speaking, that would make her their junior.

Not that seniority mattered all that much, but still.

It was early evening, when a faint trace of sunlight still lingered in the deep-blue sky.

Sitting across the campfire from her, Rickart asked,

"Why are you going there?"

"Because I have to enroll. And..."

Rickart and Boribori waited for her to continue as she half-buried her face between her knees.

"I have to become the top-ranked student there."

"...Why?"

"Because that’s the only way I’ll be useful..."

"Useful for what?"

"Just... everything..."

She seemed to have circumstances she could not discuss, so Rickart and Boribori did not ask any further.

"Well, that’s fortunate. We’re going there too. To the Beringen Academy," Boribori said.

The girl raised her face from between her knees, her large eyes widening.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Are you two enrolling there too?"

"No. We enrolled about a year ago."

"...What does that mean?"

"It’s an adventurer academy. Sometimes we’re allowed to take on commissions. We’re returning after finishing one."

Rickart spoke as if it had been nothing noteworthy, but they were returning after exterminating every member of the infamous Ernberg Five—including one of the Nine Swords of the Empire.

"Oh... Wasn’t it dangerous?"

"Of course it was. But what can you do? If you want to be an adventurer, you have to live with half your life already surrendered."

"Ah... Y-yes, I suppose so..."

"Why? Now that you’ve heard that, are you having second thoughts?"

"No. If anything, it might still be better."

"Sounds like your family treated you pretty badly too."

Rickart said this because, aside from himself, he had never met an academy student who had been properly treated as a child by their family.

"I suppose you could say that... But even so, I want to accomplish something with my own hands. Adventurers seem freer than knights. I consider the danger the price of that freedom."

"You’re quite optimistic. But you’re right. Adventurers aren’t bound by oaths. Still, you need to establish principles of your own that are every bit as important as an oath. Otherwise, what you call freedom will be nothing more than self-indulgence."

The girl felt considerably reassured.

"What’s your name?" Rickart asked.

"Oh, um... Marie. What about you two?"

...

The girl was momentarily left speechless by Rickart’s mature words. They had even come as something of a shock.

"...Then what are your principles?"

"I don’t know. That’s why I’m at the academy. I’m finding them one at a time."

The girl sank into thought for a moment before speaking again.

"Anyway, that means we all belong to the same academy, right?"

They had only recently met, but that fact alone appeared to ease some of the girl’s wariness and reassure her.

No—Marie had already introduced herself first and asked Rickart and Boribori for their names in return.

Yet for some reason, the two boys were now looking at her with doubtful expressions.

"Wh-what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You’re a noble, aren’t you?"

Boribori abruptly asked the question, causing Marie to flinch in surprise.

"Uh, ah, n-no. I’m not."

It was an astonishingly clumsy lie.

Rickart had always been frighteningly perceptive. Boribori, meanwhile, had fallen for Rickart’s tricks before and had sensed the truth instinctively.

In reality, there was hardly any need for perceptiveness.

It was painfully obvious.

And after spending so much time with Rickart, Boribori had learned quite a few things simply by observing him.

Perceptiveness was one of them.

Boribori questioned her further.

"Custom-made armor? Your family must be rich."

"Uh, um, w-well... Just because someone is wealthy doesn’t mean they’re a noble."

Marie was visibly flustered.

Since she clearly did not want the truth revealed, Rickart and Boribori stopped pressing her. Rickart himself had concealed the fact that he was a noble, after all.

"Fine. You must have your reasons. But belonging to the same academy means it doesn’t matter whether you’re a noble or anything else. We’re all students there. So don’t get offended by how we treat you."

"I’m not offended. And I won’t be."

"So you are a noble."

"N-no! That isn’t what I meant."

"Ricky."

"I’m Boribori."

"Huh?"

"I know. My name is strange. But Bori Swordsmanship is going to be amazing."

Marie thought they seemed a little strange.

At least she could not sense any malice from them.

But still, they were strange.

Yet that strangeness carried many different impressions.

Despite being so young, the two boys seemed entirely unafraid of the world.

Even though they were around the same age as her.

That quality was quietly admirable, and for some reason, it gave her courage.

How could they be so relaxed?

"Anyway, you’ll have to work extremely hard if you want to become the top-ranked student," Boribori said.

"Huh? Oh, but I’m fairly confident in my swordsmanship. It might be difficult right away, but I’ll definitely reach first place."

"Sure, sure. Do your best."

Rickart spoke without much interest as he poked the campfire with a wooden stick.

The current top-ranked student at the Beringen Academy was Rickart himself.

Considering he was already powerful enough to kill one of the Nine Swords of the Empire, surpassing him while remaining at the level of an ordinary student was effectively impossible.

And considering what had happened with his eldest brother in the past, Rickart might refuse to fight, but he would never deliberately lose.

"By the way, isn’t it a little early in the year to go swimming?" Boribori asked Marie.

He was referring to how she had been floundering in the river.

"I just... wanted to get away..."

"You’ll die if you keep doing things like that," Rickart warned.

He was not merely expressing concern.

It was a genuine warning.

"Sorry..."

"You have nothing to apologize to us for. Anyway, let’s eat something, go to bed early, and leave first thing tomorrow morning."

"...Thank you."

Rickart and Boribori decided to eat the heaviest items among their provisions first so they could lighten their load.

They roasted potatoes and sweet potatoes over the fire, adding flavor with small portions of salted meat. It made for a surprisingly delicious meal.

Marie did not appear to be a picky eater either.

After they finished eating, Rickart removed his cloak and draped it over Marie.

She immediately became restless, her gaze darting around.

"Th-thank..."

"Only say it occasionally."

"Huh?"

"Say ’thank you’ and ’I’m sorry’ only when it matters. If you say them too often, they lose their weight."

"Okay."

Rickart then shared a single cloak with Boribori.

The two leaned against the rock wall and rested while watching the campfire.

Before long, the sky had turned black, and the stars were singing soundlessly overhead.

Marie had not fully relaxed yet, so she doubted she would be able to sleep properly.

Besides, sleeping outdoors was profoundly uncomfortable in itself.

Yet when both body and mind were exhausted and one had eaten a filling meal, sleep tended to come without warning.

The crackling of the campfire sounded like a lullaby.

Early the next morning, while the sky was still dark, Rickart ground the cold remnants of the fire beneath his boot.

He then spoke to Marie, who stood awkwardly in the clothes he had lent her.

The girl was still wrapped in Rickart’s red cloak.

"Your gambeson still isn’t dry, so I think it would be better if I wore the armor."

A gambeson was a type of thick coat worn beneath armor. Since it offered some protection on its own, many people favored it.

However, because it was stuffed with cotton, even leaving it beside the fire was not enough to dry it completely in a single night.

"Oh, all right."

"You carry the helmet and the gambeson."

"Okay."

Rickart put on the chainmail Marie had worn.

After adjusting the belt to fit his waist, he handed the girl a sword.

"And this. Use it for now."

It was Steiner’s sword.

Marie had lost her own weapon and was left with nothing but its scabbard.

Judging by the size of the sword she normally carried, as indicated by her scabbard, Steiner’s weapon was roughly the same size.

"You should carry it over your shoulder like I do instead of hanging it from your waist."

There was nothing inherently wrong with wearing it at her waist, but doing so would concentrate the weight on one side and tire her quickly during a long journey.

Unless custom-made, combat equipment was generally designed for an adult man. Knowing how to carry it in a way that suited one’s body was therefore important.

Marie’s armor had been custom-made, but her sword had not.

Rickart taught her everything, down to the smallest detail. He did not know how skilled she was with a sword, but she seemed lacking in fieldcraft.

Fieldcraft referred to the comprehensive ability to sleep, eat, walk, and run outdoors while adapting to and overcoming every possible condition, whether rain or snow.

It required physical endurance as well as mental fortitude.

Swordsmanship was important, of course, but in actual combat, fieldcraft was even more vital.

Countless people became exhausted, failed to display their true abilities, and were killed as a result.

Beyond that, one required sound judgment, decisiveness, concentration, tactical understanding, courage, and patience to demonstrate outstanding combat ability.

Rickart was strong not only because of his transcendent swordsmanship, but also because all those abilities were second to none.

Once they had finished preparing to leave, Rickart gave Marie one final instruction.

"Put up your hood."

"Huh?"

"Otherwise, you might attract pests."

Marie panicked, thinking he meant that her body smelled.

But that was not what he meant.

"You’re pretty."

Marie’s body stiffened at Rickart’s words.

No one had ever called her pretty so directly before.

She had heard people describe her beauty indirectly and without sincerity, adorning their words with all manner of flowery praise, but never anything like this.

Her face flushed.

Fortunately, it was still dark in the early dawn.

"Oh... Um..."

Pretending that nothing was wrong, Marie pulled up her hood.

"Let’s go."

Rickart spoke indifferently and began walking.

And so, the three of them set off toward the Beringen Academy.

As they followed the road across the fields, the sun gradually rose.

Under the light of dawn, the fields were the color of the sea. Then sunlight spread across them like a carpet, revealing greenery dampened by melting snow.

Rickart and Boribori occasionally exchanged jokes or teased each other as they walked.

Boribori said that armor suited Rickart and suggested he become a knight instead of an adventurer. He told Rickart that he should start practicing horseback riding, even if it was only now.

In truth, horses were what made knights so terrifying.

No matter how much mana a person had cultivated, being struck head-on by a galloping horse would break every bone in their body and kill them.

Knights also possessed far greater mobility and practical value in battle than ordinary swordsmen.

They were no different from tanks capable of smashing through enemy formations.

However, fighting on horseback was not a skill that could be learned through one or two years of training.

It was an advanced combat discipline that required at least ten years—and often an entire lifetime—to master.

Its drawback was the tremendous expense involved.

The horse itself was costly, but its upkeep was no small burden either. Maintaining one practically required pouring money into it.

Marie seemed somewhat left out, but the boys were not deliberately excluding her, so she gradually grew closer to them.

In fact, their behavior was more comfortable for Marie than excessive attention would have been.

The boys looked after her while pretending not to care.

Just like the Nameless Man had done.

When Boribori imitated the deep, masculine manner of speech she had used earlier, Marie became flustered and told him to stop, while Rickart burst into laughter.

Their steps felt lighter than they had when leaving the academy.

Marie, too, seemed less frightened by the uncertainty ahead.

When one was young, the most frightening thing about entering an unfamiliar place was having no one there and being all alone.

The three walked at a steady pace, stopping frequently to rest.

Before long, it almost felt as though they had gone on a picnic.

Eventually, Marie relaxed enough to laugh openly.

"Pahaha!"

When she laughed so freely, she was beautiful enough to appear dazzling. One could easily forget that her clothes did not fit her properly and that she looked somewhat shabby.

They had not noticed it before, but Marie also had slightly prominent front teeth reminiscent of a rabbit’s, which gave her a unique charm.

The two innocent boys, however, treated Marie as she was rather than focusing on her appearance.

Marie, freed from her cage-like life and its suffocating formalities, simply enjoyed herself with equal innocence.

Anxiety and excitement were separated by the thinnest of lines.

Thanks to the two boys, Marie could feel eager and excited instead of afraid.

But when evening came and darkness began settling over the world, their lighthearted happiness seemed to disappear along with the bright sunlight.

Rickart and Boribori had already calculated the distance, so they arrived at a roadside tavern and inn at precisely the right time.

It was called Anna’s Loss.

They had first met the Nameless Man there after leaving the academy in winter.

Something seemed to surge within their chests, while at the same time, a heavy weight pressed down upon them.

Neither boy showed it outwardly.

Marie, however, clearly sensed the subtle change in them and fell silent as well.

When they opened the tavern door, an unpleasant stench greeted them.

The rough-looking, filthy patrons inside all turned their attention toward Rickart’s group.

Rickart simply strode across the room and approached the bartender he had briefly spoken with a month and a half or two months ago.

At first, the bartender did not recognize him.

His expression soon changed as the memory returned.

"Huh? You two."

"Long time no see. We’d like something to eat and a room for the night."

"Uh... Sure. But where are you coming from?"

"The north."

"The north? Oh, right. Weren’t you taking on a commission back then?"

"They’re dead."

"What?"

"The Ernberg Five. They’re all dead."

"..."

It was an unbelievable statement.

The idea that these two boys had accomplished such a thing was even harder to believe.

The bartender merely stared at them in confusion.

To him, it sounded like a joke that was not even remotely amusing.

Just then, someone looked toward Rickart and called out.

"Well, well. What’s a little knight doing in a place like this?"

Rickart’s build was obviously nothing like that of a knight.

The armor appeared somewhat comical, as though it had been made for his not-yet-fully-grown body.

Ignoring the man, Rickart spoke to the bartender.

"Do you have a room or not?"

"Huh? Oh, we do, but things are a little different here now. So..."

The bartender could not finish.

The man who had called out to Rickart had risen from his seat and was approaching.

"I asked what you’re doing here, little knight."

Rickart turned to face him.

The man was tall and had a broad, flat face.

If he merely intended to tease Rickart or play a mischievous joke, there would have been no problem.

But it did not seem likely to end there.

"Bori, let me borrow your sword."

Rickart removed the sword strapped over his shoulder and handed it to Boribori.

"Okay."

They no longer needed lengthy explanations to understand each other.

Since the room was somewhat cramped, Rickart wanted to borrow Boribori’s sword.

Boribori accepted Rickart’s weapon and handed Ghostblade to him. Then he took Marie by the arm and pulled her behind him.

Still wearing her hood, Marie looked around in confusion and fear.

A foul-smelling place filled with menacing people.

She had never been anywhere like it before.

Holding Ghostblade in one hand, Rickart spoke.

"Stop beating around the bush and tell me what you really want."

"What?"

"If you want our equipment, just attack us. Don’t pick a fight first like some coward."

"...Hah!"

The man exhaled sharply in disbelief.

He turned and signaled to someone with his eyes. At once, the people seated at two nearby tables rose together.

The bartender had already retreated a safe distance away.

Unlike two months ago, this place was no longer anything resembling neutral territory.

The balance of power in the underworld changed frequently by its very nature.

The Arisen Brotherhood no longer existed.

A new faction now ruled the area, and the rules of the streets had changed accordingly.

The man turned back toward Rickart.

"Fine. I’ll say it like a man. Hand over everything you have—your money, your equipment, all of it."

"Then take it if you’re capable."

With those words, Rickart drew Ghostblade with lightning speed.

The men standing behind their companion sensed that Rickart had done something, but none of them had seen exactly what it was.

A moment later, the man’s thick neck slowly tilted.

Then his head dropped to the side.

At the same time, Rickart kicked the still-standing body.

The corpse toppled backward, spraying blood across the man’s companions.

Whether it was due to the quality of the weapon or the skill of its wielder, not a single drop of blood stained Ghostblade.

Rickart spoke.

"Next."

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