Chapter 49

Chapter 49: Chapter 49

The Adventurers’ Guild building at the foot of the hill in Beringen was as quiet as an abandoned house. Not only was Dunkel absent, but there wasn’t a single adventurer there.

The only sounds were the pattering of rain outside, while a young clerk sat before the fireplace, guarding the building alone.

It might have seemed far too defenseless, but the guild’s true headquarters was inside the castle atop the hill, so it didn’t matter if this place was raided.

Especially when war broke out between guilds, the locations of command centers and assembly points were top-secret information. Unless they were fools, they would never continue using their usual headquarters.

It was late at night. Had midnight already passed? There was no way to know for certain without seeing the sky.

The young clerk had been dozing off in the warmth of the fire when someone suddenly pounded on the door, startling him awake. What was going on? They had told him this place was safe.

Bang, bang, bang.

Someone knocked again. The clerk’s heart pounded along with it.

He cautiously approached the door and slid open the small viewing hatch. Outside stood several cloaked figures who looked like grim reapers.

The person at the front pulled back his hood, revealed his face, and spoke.

"It’s me. Volka."

It was a familiar face, and the clerk breathed a sigh of relief.

"Whew... Volka, you scared me. You should’ve said who you were."

"Idiot. What if an enemy heard my name? Just hurry up and open the door."

The clerk undid the lock and opened the door. Five people with soaking-wet cloaks trudged inside. Water streamed from the hems of their cloaks.

Walking all the way here from the Academy through the rain for five or six hours had been quite an ordeal.

Perhaps that was why Volka immediately went to the fireplace, tossed in several pieces of firewood, stoked the flames, and took off his cloak before hanging it nearby.

Rickart, Boribori, Marie, and Delphy also removed their wet cloaks first and hung them by the fire to dry. Simply sitting down and taking the weight off their legs felt heavenly.

Volka leaned all the way back in his chair, tilted his head backward, and propped both legs on another chair.

"Ah... This is nice. I don’t know how I used to make that trip all the time. It’s fucking far. Seriously."

Volka had traveled between the Academy and the city more frequently and energetically than anyone else, but now that he had graduated, the journey apparently seemed dreadful to him.

Once he removed his cloak, however, Volka’s unusual armor came into view. Several overlapping steel plates covered his entire left arm, resembling an arthropod’s shell.

Though they weren’t visible, more steel plates beneath his outerwear protected his chest and abdomen. The armor was designed to protect his vital areas while preserving as much mobility as possible.

"Hey, take off all your equipment before you rest. You need to wipe the moisture off."

Delphy spoke while organizing her own equipment and belongings.

"Let me rest for a bit first."

"Honestly, if it weren’t for me, you’d..."

With that, Delphy moved over to Volka and helped remove his equipment.

Rickart drew his sword and tended to it first. There wasn’t really any moisture on it, but he wiped it once with a towel before meticulously applying camellia oil. Marie and Boribori did the same.

Once they had finished and were sitting down to catch their breath, the young clerk spoke.

"Volka, do you want something to eat?"

"Is there anything left?"

Volka asked in return. Most of the necessary supplies had already been cleared out, so there was hardly anything worthwhile left in the building.

"Breadcrumb soup. There’s some dried meat in it. We have a few potatoes too."

"Let’s eat that, then."

The clerk guarding the building brought over some wooden bowls. He lifted the lid off the pot sitting over the fire and ladled out the soup that had been simmering inside.

He passed the bowls around one by one. Rickart accepted his, blew on it, and slurped it down.

It was simply a pale, watery porridge with a moderately salty taste. Rather than tasting particularly good, it merely warmed their stomachs.

When Rickart had eaten about half his porridge, he asked Volka a question.

Volka had already stripped to the waist and was drying himself with a towel. Thick hair covered his chest and abdomen.

"So, where are we going?"

"Kaitz. We’ll join up with the Widowmakers Clan there. We don’t have enough people to take charge of an entire sector ourselves."

The Viola Clan had only four members, making it the smallest possible clan. Large clans could have nearly a hundred members.

It was the same principle as the nobility having both powerful nobles, such as dukes and grand dukes, and lesser nobles. Large clans could sometimes control the entire guild.

Though rare, some even broke away from the guild entirely.

"What’s our mission?"

"Nothing much. We’ll be guarding a passage."

"I guess no real fighting has broken out yet?"

"I heard there have been clashes here and there, but it seems our side has only taken a few casualties. I think all the guilds are still watching one another."

"Watching for what?"

"Don’t we need to figure out who’s an enemy and who’s an ally first?"

The guilds could form alliances with one another. Of course, whether those alliances could be trusted was for the guild master to decide.

"So war is definitely going to break out, but no one knows when it’ll begin in earnest."

"Yeah. But the signs have definitely been getting worse lately. More and more armed men have been prowling around."

"What are the people in that Widowmakers Clan like?"

"They’re a spirited bunch. The problem is, they’re idiots."

Delphy, who was tending to Volka’s equipment for him, answered in his place.

"Eis is nearby too. I heard he’s already killed five enemies. That’s made him their number-one target."

"Well, it’s Eis. I can believe it."

"Eis..."

When the name of the person she had been compared to without even knowing who he was came up, Marie unconsciously murmured it under her breath. Volka and Delphy turned toward her.

"Your name was Marie, right? Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Volka."

"I’m Delphy. Nice to meet you."

"Hello, I’m Marie. I’ve heard a lot about you from Ricky and Bori."

"You can speak casually. There’s no point standing on ceremony when any of us could die at any moment. We haven’t been out of the Academy for long either."

"Volka, you make everything sound so bleak. Come here, Marie. I’ll comb your hair for you."

Delphy picked up a comb and moved behind Marie.

"Huh? Oh, thank you..."

"No need to thank me. And speak casually."

Delphy had tended to Volka’s equipment for him, and now she approached Marie and combed her wet hair. She truly was a kind person who looked after others before herself. Her first impression had been rather rough, though.

As Rickart warmed himself by the fire, he briefly reflected on the days he had spent with them. Then he turned to Volka and called out to him.

"But Volka."

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Do you think this war is worth fighting? Or are you only doing it because you belong to the guild?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"If we gain a new area of operations, they’ll need a new branch chief, won’t they? I can’t spend the rest of my life as a hired sword, getting summoned from place to place until I die. I need to start laying the groundwork now so I can eventually settle down. Honestly, the north isn’t exactly ideal, but you have to seize opportunities when they come."

"You think you’ll become a branch chief once the war is over?"

"How would I know what the higher-ups will decide? I make my living by the sword anyway. It’s not like I can do anything else. Once I’ve saved enough money, I’m going to clear some vacant land and build an estate of our own. I’ll live there with Delphy until we grow old and die."

Delphy, who was combing Marie’s hair, said nothing. She didn’t playfully scold him as she usually would. She merely blushed slightly.

"You sound like a grown-up, Volka."

Boribori spoke while eating another bowl of watery porridge. Volka merely tilted his head back over the chair again and chuckled.

"I’ve got to look after you guys too. I may not look like it, but I’m the leader of the Viola Clan. If you can’t find anything else to do later, you can come plow fields on our estate."

This time, Rickart chuckled. Volka had been like this since their Academy days. He truly seemed to have a strong sense of responsibility.

"Let’s rest here for a while and leave in the morning. Anyone who wants to wash can do so. The water will be cold, of course. But you know this isn’t the time to be picky, right?"

At Volka’s suggestion, they warmed themselves by the fire for a while. Then Rickart, Boribori, and Volka went to the well in the building’s backyard.

The men washed by roughly pouring water over themselves, while the two women filled a bathtub with water and bathed, though they couldn’t heat it.

Afterward, they hung their clothes by the fire to dry. The men and women entered separate empty rooms and got what little sleep they could.

The rain tapping against the roof and windows made an excellent lullaby, allowing them to sleep deeply despite the short rest.

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter...

When morning came, they gathered their equipment and belongings and stepped outside. A clear, cloudless sky greeted Rickart and his companions.

"Take care of yourselves."

The young clerk spoke. It was admirable that he was guarding the building all by himself, though guarding it merely involved dusting and clearing away cobwebs rather than fighting off enemies.

The rain-soaked world looked fresher than usual, but the ground was muddy. Still, walking across the fields after leaving the city was somewhat better.

The group followed Volka and Delphy southwest. Kaitz was a highland region where no one lived.

However, it contained an old defensive tower that had outlived its usefulness and fallen into ruins long ago. Whoever occupied it could exert influence over the surrounding region.

Since those occupying the high ground could descend and attack the road at any time, traveling through the area would become difficult unless the tower was secured.

In short, it was an important strategic position.

Volka walked at the front, surveying their surroundings, while Rickart brought up the rear. Though there were only five of them, they had formed a proper marching order.

The terrain was open in every direction, but places like this actually demanded greater caution.

Flatlands were not perfectly flat. Some areas rose or dipped slightly, creating places that couldn’t be seen from a distance and only became visible upon approaching. The grass growing in spring and summer made it even easier to conceal oneself.

Enemies could hide in such places and launch an ambush, so they had to watch their surroundings carefully even while crossing open ground.

Rickart remained alert as they continued, but his keen senses detected nothing.

The group hurried onward. By late afternoon, they reached gently sloping terrain covered in short grass and dotted with rounded rocks.

This was the beginning of Kaitz.

They had made it this far without incident, only to encounter a group of five or six people. The mountainside had concealed them from view until both groups rounded it and came face-to-face.

They were armed, though their equipment varied greatly and reflected their individual tastes. Each person wore whatever gear they were most accustomed to using.

They were unmistakably adventurers.

The two groups were roughly forty or fifty meters apart. It was a distance that could be considered short or long—a sufficient distance to pass without interfering with one another, too far for a surprise attack, yet close enough to hear each other shout.

In other words, it was an awkward distance, proving that neither group had known of the other’s presence before they met.

"Hey!"

"Which outfit are you with?"

The other side shouted first. Should they fight here, or ignore them and continue upward?

Volka immediately raised his head and looked up the path toward the defensive tower. But people who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere were now blocking the route.

They stood there silently, watching what was happening below.

Just as their enemies began to find their silence suspicious, Rickart hastily shouted.

"Brabant!"

The Brabant Guild was one of the closest guilds to the central northern region, along with the Beringen Guild. Rickart had quickly given its name because he assumed there was no chance these people would ever be allied with Brabant.

The judgment itself was sound, but the lie was shallow.

"Brabant? Brabant is coming too? Hey! I didn’t ask for your guild! Tell us your clan!"

It seemed deceiving them was out of the question.

"Let’s head up. Volka, clear the way. I’ll take the rear."

Rickart spoke quietly enough that only his companions could hear him.

"Yeah."

Volka nodded. There was no time for further discussion. They couldn’t flee from here either. Shaking off pursuit would be far more dangerous and difficult.

It would be better to break through the enemies ahead and quickly join the Widowmakers Clan at the defensive tower.

Without any need to discuss it further, Volka casually began walking up the path. Neither side had drawn their weapons yet.

Once he had drawn close enough, the people above realized something was wrong.

"Come no closer. We’ll consider you an enemy."

"Hey! You there! Drop your weapons!"

"These bastards are from Beringen!"

At that, Volka charged uphill at the enemies like a bull.

They didn’t seem to be mere novices either. In an instant, they drew their swords, maces, and other weapons to meet him.

An enemy swung his sword at Volka, but Volka deflected it with the plate armor fitted over his left arm and simply slammed his body into the man.

An enemy came running up and tried to stab Rickart in the back.

But as though he had eyes in the back of his head, Rickart suddenly whirled around and swiftly swung his sword.

Clang!

At the same time, he slipped one arm between his opponent’s legs, hoisted the man bodily into the air, and hurled him onto the slope where the other enemies stood.

"Whoa!"

"Damn it!"

"Stop them! Don’t let them climb up!"

Several enemies tumbled down together because of the man Volka had thrown, but those still standing desperately tried to stop Rickart and his companions.

Volka drew a short, broad-bladed sword from his waist and fought with reckless aggression. He closed in, punched his enemies, grabbed and threw them, or stabbed them with his sword.

Such a rough fighting style inevitably left openings, but Delphy covered them with astonishing precision.

Volka smashed straight through the enemies in a single violent clash.

Marie and Boribori quickly followed him. Rickart, with his scabbard slung diagonally across his back, brought up the rear.

An enemy’s sword snapped, and Rickart’s meteoric iron sword sliced through the man’s jaw and throat at the same time.

"Ghk!"

One man had fallen, but two more charged at Rickart from either side while the broken blade was still spinning through the air.

There was a slight difference in timing between the two attacks. Rickart met the strike from the right first, thrusting his sword straight forward as though presenting the blade to his opponent.

Clang!

Metal rang out once again. As the attack from the left cut through empty air, Rickart twisted his wrist, spun his interlocked sword free, and immediately swung it.

Whoosh!

The enemy pressed close to him was decapitated, while the enemy on his left had his throat severed. Rickart had cut down two men with a single stroke.

Only then did the broken blade spinning through the air strike a nearby rock.

Clang!

The enemies who had been charging after him faltered at what had happened in the blink of an eye. Eis had earned a reputation by killing five enemies, but Rickart had cut down three the moment he arrived.

Holding his bloodstained sword, Rickart stood on the gently sloping hillside and gazed down at the enemies. The wind blew, making his red cloak flutter slightly.

One of the enemies seemed to realize something upon seeing him. He pointed at Rickart and shouted.

"You! The red cloak! Red-Cloaked Ricky!"

"You know me?"

Rickart, who had just killed three people in an instant, asked in bewilderment.

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he sprinted across the highland field, shouting like a shepherd warning everyone that a wolf had appeared.

"It’s Ricky! Red-Cloaked Ricky is here!"

The other enemies fled after him in a swarm. Volka, Delphy, Boribori, and Marie, who had been climbing the hill, turned around in confusion.

No one was more bewildered than Rickart himself.

What was wrong with them?

The enemies continued shouting the same words.

"It’s Red-Cloaked Ricky!"

"Ricky is here!"

Rickart had no particular desire to chase them, but he wondered whom they were trying so desperately to warn. Curious, he ran after them across the highland field.

When he rounded the mountainside, he involuntarily sucked in a sharp breath.

"Gasp!"

Well over a hundred people were swarming across the lower highlands in the distance.

Volka and the others, who had followed him, were equally astonished by the sight.

"My God..."

"What is this...? Are they fighting an actual war?"

Guild wars were different from real wars. They usually consisted of swordsmen fighting and killing one another in scattered clashes. Even the largest confrontations involved only a few dozen people at most.

Guilds varied in size, but even those capable of mustering a hundred members would not normally gather them all in one place like this.

That meant several guilds appeared to have formed an alliance.

Whatever the case, it was clear that the situation had become serious.

The enemies who had encountered Rickart’s group ran toward the crowd of adventurers, shouting without pause. Rickart’s name spread throughout the highlands in every direction.

"It’s Red-Cloaked Ricky!"