The Warrior’s Ballad

Chapter 19

Translator: Willia

Dusk had fallen, and it was a night where even the last hint of the violet twilight had disappeared. In a quiet clearing somewhere east of Beringen, a bonfire was burning.

The flickering flames were like an ominous demon that had caught the scent of death, licking its lips and flicking its tongue.

Crackle. Crack. Crackle…

The shadows stretched and contracted on their own, as if watching a cursed puppet dance.

Someone sitting on a fallen tree trunk grabbed the sword at their waist and slowly stood up. He looked at the boy beyond the fire.

“In the old days, if you showed potential, the seniors would have cut you down in advance. Things seem to have gotten better nowadays.”

He was saying that they used to kill anyone who could become a future competitor before they could grow.

But what does that have to do with me? Ricardt looked at him with eyes burning with anger and spoke.

“Is your life worth just a few silver coins? What a cheap life. Even the countryside bandits are worth more.”

He was referring to the Vilton brothers. They were worth 30 silver coins each.

At Ricardt’s cold criticism, the man skillfully drew his sword with a steady stance. The sleek blade glistened in the firelight.

Watching from a distance, Boribori felt his hair stand on end as he saw the real sword.

There was a distinct chill to a sharp sword when seen up close. And oddly enough, it had a certain charm, or perhaps a sense of power.

Ricardt, on the other hand, turned to Volka and spoke without any change in his expression.

“Volka, lend me your sword.”

“What? Uh… sure.”

“Hurry up.”

Volka, after glancing nervously at the people around the bonfire, quickly approached Ricardt and whispered softly.

“He’s ranked 7th. He can wield mana. It’s not too late to apologize now. I’ll try to smooth things over.”

But Ricardt, without a second thought, drew the sword from Volka’s waist and lightly pushed him aside as he said,

“Step back, Volka. You might get hurt.”

By this point, Volka’s heart was racing, filled with anxiety and fear. What should I do?

Without knowing Volka’s feelings, Ricardt had already pushed the situation to an extreme, and the die was already cast.

But the opponent looked at Ricardt holding the sword and let out a laugh, as if he couldn’t believe it.

It was because the length and weight of the sword didn’t match Ricardt. In short, it looked like a kid holding a sword.

Yet, at the same time, there was something oddly stable about it. Well, maybe he wasn’t completely untrained.

The opponent didn’t take any particular stance and simply walked over to the side of the bonfire. Ricardt followed suit, moving to the side of the fire.

“I don’t know why you’ve lost all sense of fear, but that’s how the world works. Talent is a gift from the gods, and those without it are supposed to support us.”

Ricardt found it genuinely ridiculous. Truly, the twisted mindset of an immature fool.

“Sorry, but talent won’t guarantee your life.”

The opponent was very irritated by Ricardt’s words, which seemed to strike back without giving an inch. Perhaps he was annoyed by the fact that Ricardt wasn’t scared even though he had drawn his sword. He should have been trembling in fear before him.

“Hmm… I must see you cry and beg for forgiveness. Let’s start with one arm.”

The opponent still didn’t take a particular stance, just let his sword hang by his side and took a deep breath.

Then, even though there was no wind, the bonfire flickered oddly. It seemed like he was using mana.

After taking a long breath, he paused for a moment. Then suddenly, the bonfire bent to the side as if struck by a strong wind.

Fwoosh.

“Hup!”

The opponent suddenly appeared right in front of Ricardt. His eyes were wide open, his mouth filled with air, and his sword was raised high above his head.

The process of closing the distance was so inhumanly fast that it seemed as though a portion of time had been cut away.

In the dark moonlit night, a flash of the sword’s gleam cut through the air.

Clang-!

Then came the metallic sound that tore through the stillness of the night.

The opponent felt a jolt through his wrist, accompanied by a sense of emptiness. His sword had been sliced in half. What? Hold on.

In that brief, fleeting moment, countless thoughts raced through his mind. Was it defective? No, that can’t be. I maintained it every day.

He hadn’t yet mastered the delicate art of controlling mana, and he had overshot Ricardt by a wide margin.

Hurriedly, he tried to call out to his friends for a new sword. But no voice came out.

“Kuluk! Kek!”

What, what’s happening? Wait, hold on. He felt the front of his shirt growing damp, and hurriedly reached for his neck. Warm blood quickly soaked his hand. His eyes widened in realization.

Ricardt, standing by the fire, turned to look at him. The anger in Ricardt’s eyes had subsided somewhat, replaced by a cold indifference. All around, everyone’s eyes were wide with shock, including his own friends.

At that moment, two conflicting thoughts clashed in his mind.

One was a denial of reality, while the other was an attempt to accept the situation objectively. Did I lose? No way. Wait, am I… dying? It’s a lie. It doesn’t make sense. Dying? I’m just. I’m just……

Having never prepared himself for the possibility of death, he was not ready to accept what was happening.

But no matter how much his mind struggled between denial and acceptance, his soul was already halfway to the afterlife.

More than anything, he started to struggle to breathe. Blood that had escaped the confines of his veins was now blocking his airway.

“Kuluk! Kuluk! Kruruk……”

Clang.

He dropped the broken sword from his hand, staggering for a moment before his head spun and his vision blurred. He collapsed with a thud, and soon after, his body went limp, the life drained from his eyes.

His neck had been cut just enough for him to die. Even after his death, blood continued to gurgle out for a while.

The bonfire continued to burn. The moon in the sky remained as it was, indifferent to whether he lived or died.

Everyone froze in place, unable to believe what had just happened. Even if they considered the slim chance that Ricardt had broken the sword, it was impossible to cleanly cut the neck in one trajectory without magic. If this was intentional, it was spine-chilling.

However, to Ricardt, the opponent was nothing more than a fast-moving monkey.

Ricardt understood the principle that timing outstrips speed, and precision overwhelms power, and he had the ability to actually implement that principle.

So, an opponent who simply tried to move quickly or rely on brute strength through mana couldn’t match up to Ricardt.

Holding Volka’s sword, Ricardt scanned the upper ranks of the academy with a gaze full of contempt.

Strangely, Volka’s sword remained completely unscathed, not even a single chip. Instead, it seemed to thirst for more blood, as the flames reflected in its blade danced wildly.

Standing in the firelight, the boy’s presence was imposing. Even in the face of the academy’s top ranks, he not only did not shrink back, but he overwhelmed them.

The labels of “rookie” or “kid” that had stuck to Ricardt were now completely gone. As if the world had been turned upside down, the dismissive looks from before had entirely disappeared.

Now, their gazes had shifted to one of disbelief in the outcome, shock at the reality before them, and a fear that they too could be killed.

No matter how childlike he appeared, the aura of someone who had made the world tremble in fear was not something that students who hadn’t even stepped into society could handle.

The disconnect between his appearance and the reality made the situation even more chilling and terrifying.

“Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. Until I graduate, don’t ever talk about talent or whatever in front of me. You’re all just worthless trash anyway. There won’t be any more tribute payments. And one more thing. From now on, I’m the first rank. If anyone has a problem with that, step forward now.”

The people around didn’t immediately grasp the reality before them, but gradually, their gazes shifted toward Ice, the former number one, and his group.

Ricardt’s gaze also turned to the silver-haired boy whose hair resembled moonlight. However, the boy neither showed hostility toward Ricardt nor submitted to him. His expression remained indifferent and emotionless.

Ice pulled the tribute money from his pocket and placed it on the ground. Without voicing any complaints, he quietly left with his group. To others, it looked like he was surrendering.

As Ice left the scene, two dark silhouettes that had been watching from afar also departed.

It might have seemed somewhat anticlimactic, but the matter was settled. Ricardt was now ranked first.

Ricardt had literally settled the ranking with a single stroke, reclaiming all the tribute money. The nameless corpse was taken care of by his friends.

On the way back to the guild headquarters, Ricardt returned Volka’s sword and handed him money.

“You don’t have to pay tribute anymore. Leader.”

“Ri… Ricky…”

Volka, clutching the money in his trembling hands, looked at Ricardt with teary eyes, then looked down at the money in his hands, before suddenly biting his lip and lowering his head. He struggled to swallow the emotions welling up inside him. He bit down so hard that it seemed like his molars might crack.

No matter how independent Volka was, he was still young. The desire to lean on someone, to be protected at times, was something he couldn’t completely shake off.

The lifelong sorrow and pent-up resentment he had felt were beyond words, and now, all the suppressed emotions came flooding to the surface.

“Le, let’s go ahead, Ricky,”

Boribori said, tugging at the hem of Ricardt’s cloak.

“…Alright.”

Ricardt, understanding the situation, decided to give Volka some space. He knew that leaving him alone was the considerate thing to do at this moment.

As Ricardt and Boribori walked away, tears began to stream down Volka’s tightly shut eyes. Soon, he collapsed onto the ground, burying his face in his arms, and sobbed uncontrollably.

The sound of Volka crying could be heard behind Ricardt’s back. It sounded like a sorrowful beast pouring out its resentment.

It was a night when the moonlight seemed unusually gentle.

The next morning, Ricardt and Boribori woke up in a tangled mess, the blankets either half-covering them or crumpled around them.

Ricardt, with his hair sticking out in all directions, looked around and noticed that Volka was nowhere to be seen. Worried that something might have happened during the night, he hastily got dressed and went downstairs.

“Uncle Dunkel, have you seen Volka?”

“Um, could you stop calling me that?”

“Old man, Dunkel have you seen Volka?”

“He… left early this morning, young master.”

Dunkel subtly threatened Ricardt by hinting that if he kept calling him Uncle or Old man, he might reveal Ricardt’s noble status.

Ricardt, understanding the implication, chuckled as if amused. This guy is sharp, huh? Well, as long as Volka is safe, it’s fine.

“Do you know where Volka works?”

“I don’t. His work changes time to time.”

“Hmm… then how long can we stay here? We plan to leave today, but I’d like to at least say goodbye to Volka.”

“You can stay until lunchtime. If you want to stay longer, you’ll have to pay for another day.”

Ricardt tapped the bar with his finger, thinking about the time it would take to return to the academy and various other things. In the end, he decided to wait until lunchtime, and if he couldn’t see Volka by then, there would be nothing more he could do.

Ricardt returned to the room, woke Boribori, and they had breakfast together. After that, they wandered around the area near the guild headquarters, taking in a bit of the city.

But nothing was fun or exciting. They just aimlessly looked around, and then returned to the headquarters around lunchtime.

While they were eating, preparing to leave, Volka still hadn’t shown up.

“Well, he’s not missing or anything, so it’s fine,” Ricardt thought, deciding to head back to the academy.

“See you next time, Uncle Dunkel.”

Ricardt said, tossing out the farewell casually, and then walked out of the building. He retraced his steps along the path he had taken with Boribori.

As they left the crowded area, a spring breeze blew. The scent of grass and flowers brushed past their noses. Ricardt paused to look at the fields when suddenly, he heard Volka’s voice from behind.

“Hey! Ricky! Boribori!”

From the moment they left in the morning until now, Ricardt and Boribori had acted indifferent, but as soon as they heard the voice they’d been waiting for, they immediately turned around.

They saw Volka running toward them from a distance, and finally, a smile spread across their previously expressionless faces.

“How’s work? What kind of job are you doing?”

“Forget about that, here, take this. I’ve got to go back soon.”

Volka handed something over. It was clothing. When held up in the air, there was an embroidered purple violet on the chest.

It was unlikely that Volka had embroidered it himself; he must have hurriedly asked someone he knew to make it, which explained why he’d been busy since early morning. It couldn’t have been easy to find purple thread.

“This way, it won’t wither. And…”

Volka hesitated for a moment, rubbing his nose awkwardly, before speaking to Boribori.

“Sorry about last time, for throwing the flowers away.”

It was surprising. Volka, apologizing? It might even be considered a miracle.

“I-I’m sorry too, for acting like a girl.”

Boribori also apologized. Though it’s questionable whether that was something to apologize for.

Volka, embarrassed, kept scratching his short hair.

At that moment, a cool spring breeze blew, caressing the three boys like a divine touch. It seemed to be saying that everything was alright.

“I’ll be going now. We’ll see each other at the academy anyway.”

“No.”

Ricardt shook his head. Volka and Boribori looked at him, surprised by the unexpected response.

“We’ll see each other not just at the academy, but anywhere. Because we’re eternal friends.”

Ricardt pointed to the clumsily embroidered violet on the clothing as he spoke. The two boys smiled.

Then Boribori spoke as if he had just remembered something.

“By the way, didn’t we agree not to say things like ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’ to each other?”

Ricardt thought about giving some kind of excuse or reasoning but ended up giving up.

“Hmm… sometimes it’s okay, right?”

“Hehehe, yeah, you’re right.”

“You guys should get going now. The city gates will close by evening.”

“Okay. You should go too, Volka.”

Even though they were telling each other to go, none of them could bring themselves to leave. They wanted to watch their friend leave, but didn’t want to show themselves leaving as a friend. For some reason, it just felt that way.

The fields were filled with blooming spring flowers, making it look like the Garden of Eden. The purple violets swayed gently in the breeze.

Chapter 5 – Not Comrades, But Friends. End

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