The Warrior’s Ballad

Ricardt, Boribori, and the Nameless were now practically a group. Although they hadn’t made any explicit promises or contracts, it seemed like they had joined forces to achieve their respective goals. Or perhaps, without even realizing it, they had naturally grown accustomed to each other.

The three headed west. To Ernburg. However, they weren’t immediately tracking the Ernburg Five. This was because there was someone closer to deal with first. For now, they headed in that direction.

There was still some time left before sunset, but the group chose to find a place to camp early. The spot they settled on seemed to be a common resting place for travelers, with old signs of previous occupants.

Ricardt brushed away cobwebs with the sheath of his sword and swept the ground with his foot to chase away the bugs. He then lit a fire in an old makeshift hearth that was already there. It was fortunate that there were a few pieces of firewood scattered around.

Sitting down, Ricardt unfolded the wanted poster the Nameless had brought. The picture showed a disgustingly smug, overweight man with an unsettling grin.

Below the image was a brief introduction and description of the criminal, along with his crime history.

[Haspil – Also known as “The One Who Makes Mothers Weep.” Leader of the so-called ‘Murder Guild’, a criminal organization.

Criminal History – Murdering clergy, raping and murdering multiple women, multiple murders, looting monasteries, torture, human trafficking, dealing in stolen goods.

Main area of activity – Siegfringer. Could be elsewhere else too. There is a possibility of connections with other dangerous criminal organizations.

In the name of the gods and the Empire, a reward of 40 gold coins will be given for capturing this criminal alive, and 10 gold coins for bringing in his head.]

“Hey…”

Ricardt let out a subconscious exclamation. The man was truly a vile scum, enough to make him wonder if there could be an even worse bastard than this. Setting aside the Nameless’s personal revenge, it was astonishing that someone like this even existed.

But the problem, though, was the difficulty. In some ways, it seemed like it could be even harder than dealing with the Ernburg Five.

Still, Ricardt didn’t think it was impossible. Difficult and impossible were entirely different concepts, and in his philosophy, any human could be killed.

Various vague plans began to form in Ricardt’s mind. He already knew several methods to handle a larger group with a smaller force, and he was well-versed in exploiting the weaknesses of people like this.

A group of criminals was bound to be poorly organized. Without rules, they lacked structure, and while they might talk about loyalty and brotherhood among themselves, when a decisive moment arrived, they’d betray each other as easily as flipping a hand.

There were two main ways to bring down such a group: either weaken their unity through division or instill more fear than their leader commanded.

Ricardt decided he would start by gathering information in and around Siegfringer.

The big plan was to help the Nameless achieve his revenge, and then take on the Ernburg Five together. His help wasn’t just out of goodwill.

The ultimate goal was to complete the commission so that the academy students wouldn’t go hungry and could survive the winter safely.

While Ricardt was mulling over his plans and strategies, Boribori returned to the campsite after wandering off somewhere. He held his hands together as if he had brought something back—maybe he’d caught some bugs?

With a silly grin, Boribori spoke to the Nameless and Ricardt.

“Guess what I brought.”

“Did you bring some caterpillars as snacks?”

“No. Look closely.”

Boribori opened his hands to reveal a bright red camellia flower. It had a bit of moisture from the snow, making it look fresh and vibrant.

“Ta-da! Flowers can bloom even in winter!”

Ricardt was briefly curious but then quickly lost interest. While he respected Boribori’s tastes, it wasn’t something he particularly cared about.

However, the Nameless suddenly grabbed the flower, stuffed it under the cloth covering his helmet, and started chewing on it.

“Uh, it’s not really for eating…”

Boribori was flustered, but the Nameless swallowed it down without a care.

It was utterly absurd, but in any case, to muster the strength for a long journey, they had to eat well—whether it was flowers or whatever.

They roasted some staple crops like potatoes, corn, and sweet potatoes over the fire, melted snow in a pot to mix in grain powder, and drank it. They also sliced up some ham and ate that. While it wasn’t a feast, they still managed to get a balanced amount of nutrition.

At one point, Boribori was eating sloppily with something stuck around his mouth, and the Nameless silently reached out and wiped it off for him. Huh?

Ricardt, watching from the side, felt slightly bewildered, wondering what this was, but on the other hand, he felt a strange sense of emotion.

There was something profound to be sensed in that small gesture. It was as if they had established a connection with a fierce, untamed beast that couldn’t speak.

As for Boribori, the one involved, he didn’t seem embarrassed at all and just smiled his usual sunny smile.

Anyway, after spending the night outdoors, the three continued their walk toward Siegfringer the next day.

Along the way, they stopped by a village, bartering some potatoes in exchange for shelter in a barn.

They went around asking in each village about Haspil or his criminal organization, the Murder Guild. However, the villagers, who had never left their villages, responded as if they were hearing these names for the first time.

Then, as they got closer to Siegfringer, one farmer was startled when Ricardt asked and ran away in fear.

Seeing a rural man flee despite being offered valuable food in exchange for information made Ricardt feel that they were indeed getting closer.

They stopped asking around after that. They had found out where Haspil’s main area of activity was—Lunenberg, a city within the Siegfringer region.

The Thieves’ Guild in that area was said to be user Haspil’s control, and the bandits based in the nearby Lunen Mountain were his followers.

Apparently, the way it worked was that Haspil would move freely around the city under the protection of the Thieves’ Guild, but if things got tense, he would hide in the mountains for a while.

The collective name for both the Thieves’ Guild and the bandits was “The Murder Guild”, and as the name suggested, their primary business was contract killings.

But these contract killings were far from professional—they were crude. Often, they wouldn’t even begin the job after taking on a request and instead would turn around and extort money from the client through threats.

In other words, while they called themselves the “Murder Guild”, what they really did was little more than thuggish racketeering.

Whether it could be called a business was debatable, but Ricardt couldn’t help but wonder how they hadn’t gone bankrupt with such shoddy operations.

“Let’s be honest here. When the Adventurers’ Guild takes on shady requests, they only deal with people who have a lot of money or high status. But anyone, regardless of status, can want someone dead. There’s bound to be a woman out there who wants to kill her cheating husband, right? But who’s going to fulfill those people’s wishes? When someone hates another so much they want them dead, they can’t think rationally. That’s why, even with a bad reputation, people with money flock to them. The business never dries up. For that lousy organization to go under, people would have to become virtuous, but life’s hard, and the people you trusted and loved are always bound to drive nails into your heart. That’s why, no matter how poorly it’s run, it won’t go under.”

A merchant, organizing his cargo on a wagon, said this. Ricardt handed him a silver coin in exchange for the information.

The merchant, seemingly pleased with the amount of money he received, offered one more piece of advice.

“Haspil is an insatiable gambling addict. If he’s not hiding out in the mountains, you can easily find him at a tavern called ‘Mother’s Sorrow.’”

“Thank you. Best of luck to you.”

After buying a cloak from the merchant, Ricardt and his companions set out for Lunenberg.

The cloak was large enough to fully cover the Nameless’s body. It wasn’t a regular item for sale but something used by one of the larger-built men in the merchant’s group, so it had a bit of a smell. However, after dusting it off, they draped it over the Nameless, who didn’t seem to care about the smell at all.

When they arrived in Lunenberg, Ricardt didn’t immediately enter the city. Instead, he scouted the surrounding areas. Sure enough, there was a mountain visible to the south. Between the mountain and the city flowed a river.

Ricardt, after walking around for a bit, found a place where they could hide and then spoke.

“Here’s the plan. First, let’s get a room in the city. Boribori and I will pose as customers and head to the gambling den. You, sir, will stand by as our bodyguard. We’ll observe the situation, then head back to our lodging to come up with a more concrete plan. On the day of execution, we’ll regroup here. How does that sound?”

Boribori, having only learned some sword skills, was inexperienced in handling such operations. So, he just nodded along without much thought.

However, the Nameless remained still, seemingly displeased or uncertain about something.

Ricardt knew why he wasn’t reacting. It wasn’t hard to guess, considering the Nameless’s usual way of fighting.

“I understand there’s a chance things could go south. You might not be able to hold back and end up killing someone on the spot. That’s fine. Boribori and I will handle the aftermath. You just need to clear an escape route for us.”

At that, the Nameless finally nodded.

Though Ricardt and the Nameless had different styles, both were professionals in this kind of work. How well they would sync could only be determined once they actually worked together on the job.

Ricardt also had a good understanding of how each member’s strengths aligned, which helped him delegate roles. The Nameless was excellent at breaking through obstacles, while Ricardt was better at countering and responding. So, despite being just three people, they divided their roles into front and rear forces.

After roughly forming their plan, Ricardt, Boribori, and the Nameless entered Lunenberg and secured a room at an inn as close to the city gates as possible.

Afterwards, when night fell, they headed to the tavern called ‘Mother’s Sorrow’. Contrary to expectations, the tavern wasn’t in some shady back alley but located right in the bustling part of the city. When Ricardt showed the doorman a coin purse full of silver, they were let in without any questions about their age, status, or identity. After all, in a gambling den, anyone with money is treated like a king.

Upon entering, it was as bright as daytime. Thousands of candles lit up the room, and the thick scent of wax was dizzying. However, the people inside didn’t seem to notice, their eyes gleaming with the madness of greed.

Wealthy merchants, even nobles, as well as people who had gambled away all they owned, sat at tables engrossed in their games. The establishment provided fine liquor and prostitutes to cater to its patrons.

The gamblers stared intently at the dealers, their faces tense, and when the results were revealed, some either burst into cheers loud enough to break the gambling den while others sighed deeply as if the place would collapse under the weight of their disappointment.

So intoxicated by the uncertain thrill, none of them paid any attention to Ricardt’s group.

Boribori’s eyes went wide as he gawked at the strange and dazzling world before him, while Ricardt calmly surveyed the layout: where the security personnel were stationed, where reinforcements might come from, and which escape routes were the safest.

Once he had a rough idea of the building’s structure, they sat down at a long table. Four people were already seated, and the dealer was hosting a simple game: two dice placed in a bowl, which was then flipped on the table for a game of even or odd.

For each round, the dealer would put two dice on his fingers, lift the bowl to show there was nothing wrong on both sides, and then proceed with the game. From the outside, there really seemed to be nothing wrong.

“Even! Odd! Even!”

The dealer shouted, trying to hype up the game. He swiftly dropped the dice into the bowl, slammed it upside down on the table, and gave it a shake before bringing it to a halt with a sharp clatter.

“Life or death!”

When the dealer yelled, and the people at the table placed their bets. There were no copper coins—only silver coins. Each wager was quite hefty.

The sound of the dice rattling and the clinking of coins was strangely pleasant to the ears.

Ricardt watched the flow of the game for now. One round, two rounds, three rounds, four rounds…

By the fifth round, the dealer spoke up.

“Aren’t you going to place a bet? If not, you’ll need to pay for your seat.”

“I’ll play now.”

Then the dealer silently rolled the dice again. But, Ricardt stared at the overturned bowl and then bet all the money he had on even. It was as much as 20 silver coins.

At this, everyone, including the dealer, looked surprised. While the other tables were noisy, a brief silence fell over Ricardt’s table. The dealer slowly lifted the bowl, and the result was even.

“Gasp!”

“Wow!”

“Crazy!”

The gamblers at the same table were wide-eyed in disbelief. This is why people gamble, one might think, but the owner of the luck wasn’t themselves. Still, just watching made their hearts swell.

The dealer, with a seriously hardened expression, took money from under the table and combined it with the money of those who got it wrong, then paid out to those who bet on even as much as they had bet. Ricardt’s money increased to 42 silver coins. In the blink of an eye.

“Ri-Ricky, we’re rich! What do we do?”

Boribori, overwhelmed with excitement, grabbed Ricky’s shoulders and shook him wildly.

“Hey, calm down! Get a hold of yourself.”

The real problem started now, as Ricardt kept winning every bet he placed.

Ricardt was guessing the dice numbers by remembering the sound, and with his eyes, he was discerning whether the dealer was using tricks or not by watching the dealer’s eyes.

So he couldn’t be wrong. Of course, this was possible because of his inhuman insight and sensory abilities.

However, the people at the same table weren’t interested in how Ricardt was guessing everything correctly, they just followed Ricardt and bet on the same side. And soon, the dealer’s cash reserve was completely drained.

“Hahahahahaha!”

The air was filled with laughter as dopamine surged through the crowd. Someone grabbed Ricardt’s head and began smothering him with kisses, forcing the Nameless, who was standing behind him, to push them away.

By now, a mountain of silver coins had piled up in front of Ricardt, tall enough to block his view if he didn’t stand up.

At this point, the attention of everyone in the gambling den was drawn to Ricardt, and a crowd began gathering around his table to watch.

Amidst the commotion, someone approached the dealer, tapped him on the arm, and said,

“Step aside.”

Ricardt looked up and saw the person who had just arrived across the table. It was none other than Haspil, the man from the wanted poster. The Nameless was standing directly behind Ricardt.

Haspil smiled broadly with the plump face. All of his exposed teeth were golden. Ricardt couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly the artist had captured his likeness on the wanted poster.

“Interesting. You’re quite the little gambler, aren’t you, kid?”

“I’m starting to find it boring because it’s too easy.”

“Yeah, you need to taste losing too, that’s what gambling is. But, isn’t betting money getting boaring? How about we raise the stakes?”

“What kind of stakes?”

“Literally, life or death. Isn’t that the true essence of odd or even? If you capture me and take me to the adventurers’ guild, you’ll make a lot of money.”

The wanted poster had said that capturing Haspil alive would fetch 40 gold coins. That was the equivalent of 800 silver coins.

“Roll it.”

Without hesitation, Ricardt replied.

Then Haspil, excluding the other gamblers, proceeded to challenge Ricardt to a one-on-one match.

By now, everyone in the gambling den had gathered to watch and the once noisy gambling den was as quiet as a mouse.

Haspil quickly tossed the dice into the bowl and slammed it onto the table. Unlike the dealer, he didn’t shake it multiple times—just once.

Rattle.

Ricardt smirked after hearing the sound. He had expected more, but the trick was too amateurish.

“When did the dice become three?”

“Huh?”

“When I make my call, one will magically disappear, and you’ll win no matter what. What do they call this?”

“Are you saying I’m cheating?”

There are many serious crimes in the world, but in a gambling den, the greatest sin is deception—what they call ‘cheating’. It was the most unforgivable crime, punishable regardless of one’s status.

Ricardt stared at Haspil for a moment before swiftly pulling a dagger from his coat like a bolt of lightning. He drove the blade straight into Haspil’s hand, which was resting on top of the bowl.

“You’ll know it when you see it!”

Crack!

The dagger pierced through Haspil’s hand, shattering the bowl, and embedded itself into the table. The eyes of everyone nearby widened in shock. Three blood-stained dice rolled out of the shattered pieces.

Haspil instinctively gasped, sucking in air sharply. Just as he was about to let out a scream, the Nameless, standing behind him, pounced like a tiger. He leaped onto the table and lunged at Haspil, his axe already raised high above his head.

Chaos erupted. This was exactly the kind of situation where the Nameless excelled—his true battlefield. Ricardt had known this and had set the stage perfectly for him the moment the opportunity arose.

They didn’t need to speak, didn’t even need to look at each other—yet their coordination was flawless, as if they were seasoned gamblers working in perfect sync.

*****