The Warrior’s Ballad

TL Note: Mari changed to Marie

The world wasn’t filled with only beautiful and fragrant things. There were far more dirty and ugly things.

But what if the world were full of only beautiful things? Most likely, humans would find it so boring that they wouldn’t be able to endure it.

And so, in the end, destroying heaven with their own hands was the vile nature of the creature known as humans. Or, on the contrary, maybe that was what being human truly meant.

Marie, half by her own will and half by force, left the safe and protected environment and stepped into the dirty and ugly world.

She didn’t step out with the naive mindset of a girl full of dreams. After all, she had heard in various ways that the world was dangerous and brutal.

However, there was a vast difference between vaguely imagining something and experiencing it firsthand.

There were things that turned out to be not as bad as she had worried, and there were things she thought were no big deal, but turned out to be far more dangerous and difficult than expected.

The overwhelming uncertainty of not knowing where to go, the dangerous people with unknown intentions, hunger, cold, and death.

It was a world where, once you stepped outside the door, death wasn’t far away. Of course, the fear and desire to avoid it were natural. But was it right to live forgetting that fact, or should one accept it?

In the midst of this, she met two boys. Ricardt and Boribori. When having a normal conversation, they were just like kids her age, but in the smallest details, many differences stood out.

Keeping track of time, assessing the weather, gathering necessary supplies, and most importantly, knowing where to go—choosing a path and walking it.

The boys had something different from her. It was the unique composure and toughness that only those who had grown up possessed, and the atmosphere that radiated from it.

And, how they acted when faced with dangerous situations.

“Y-You bastard!”

“Kill him!”

The thugs shouted. But instead of retreating, Ricardt hurled himself at them.

Though the grown men swarmed over a single boy, the space was too cramped. Ricardt swiftly ducked and slashed at one man’s side, quickly slipping through the narrow area.

Then, passing through the thugs, he lightly jumped onto the table while still in armor.

Then, from atop the table, he crouched down low, bending his knees almost as if squatting, and spun quickly like a top.

Whoosh!

As soon as the thugs turned to look at Ricardt, a sharp sound cutting through the air reached them, and something pale flashed before their eyes.

The sharp arc of his sword sliced through several people’s eyes, noses, cheeks, and necks. Teeth clattered to the floor as the gums of one man were slashed.

“Aaaaghhh!”

The terrified screams of the onlookers mixed with the cries of those cut by the blade. Some of them lunged at Ricardt, who stood on the table.

But Ricardt once again leapt lightly off the table, and as he did, he swung his sword swiftly left and right in the air. Two heads thudded to the ground.

Everyone watching, except Boribori, widened their eyes to their limits, stunned by Ricardt’s near-superhuman skill. Whether it was fear or awe, even they couldn’t tell.

Amidst the chaos, Ricardt kicked away the headless bodies, causing those recklessly charging at him to stumble. In their confusion, they hurriedly shoved the corpses aside, trying to attack Ricardt again, but he was no longer there.

By this point, no one knew where he was—only the sound of his sword cutting through the air could be heard. And every time, someone would spray blood and die. Some collapsed in a stagger, others fell dead instantly.

What the hell is this? Am I having a nightmare? The thugs under attack thought.

Ricardt had become different from when he first left the tavern, ‘Anna’s Loss’. Had he grown? No, to be more precise, it was a change in style.

Once someone reaches a certain level, it’s not about what’s better or worse, but a matter of style. Ricardt had unknowingly started to resemble Nameless.

But it wasn’t just simple imitation. He had made it his own.

The key to Ricardt’s fighting style had always been precise timing and clean lines, but now it felt as though he no longer cared about such things, fighting more instinctively and with a rougher edge.

And indeed, in the few months that had passed, his body had grown a bit, and his physical strength had increased. He was getting closer to the peak of his abilities.

Meanwhile, Marie watched all of this as if she were entranced. She didn’t even notice the thugs dying—her eyes were focused only on Ricardt.

It was as if she were watching an painter painting with blood as his medium. The lines were rough, like the work of a master artist with a wild style. It was shockingly beautiful. A level of skill she had never seen before, or even imagined.

Thud. Crash.

The last thug collapsed onto the table like wet laundry caught on a clothesline, then fell to the ground along with the table. It didn’t take long to deal with the half-dozen or so thugs.

The scene was a complete mess; not a single table or chair remained upright, and the floor was a sea of blood. The thick stench of blood was dizzying.

The other people were huddled in a corner, trembling with fear. It was just like when Nameless had come here.

Ricardt swung his sword through the air, shaking off some of the blood. Blood splattered onto the ceiling and walls. Carefully avoiding the clutter, he stepped around the blood pooled on the floor and approached Boribori and Marie.

Boribori handed him a towel stained with brown marks. It was an old, frequently washed towel, and the brown stains were remnants of blood.

Ricardt wiped his sword clean, sheathed it, and returned it to its owner. Then, looking at Marie, he spoke.

“I tried to fight without scratching the armor as much as possible. But some blood got on the surcoat here.”

Ricardt pointed to the dark purple surcoat he was wearing over his armor.

“…Huh?”

“I’m asking if it’s okay.”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Anyway, it looks like we won’t be staying here tonight.”

Boribori, looking at the wrecked scene, remarked. He turned his head to the bartender, who had been standing the whole time but was now panting heavily. He was trembling as if he were shaking like a leaf in the wind.

When Ricardt approached him, the bartender’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. Ricardt, seeing the man’s mouth open and close soundlessly, spoke.

“It wasn’t our fault, you know that, right?”

The bartender frantically nodded his head in agreement. With that, Ricardt and Boribori left the tavern.

Unlike before, there wasn’t a trace of their former innocence. They had gone through many situations like this over the past winter, and now they had the ability to handle the consequences of their actions.

“What are you doing? Let’s go, Marie.”

“Ah, oh-okay.”

Marie was in a slightly dazed state, but she managed to come to her senses and followed Ricardt and Boribori.

As they stepped outside the tavern, the warmth inside vanished, and the cold air once again wrapped around their faces. But at least they were free from the stench of blood, and the fresh air cleared their heads.

The three of them had no choice but to sleep outside that night. The question was whether it was better to sleep in the stench of blood or endure the cold. Based on their experience, Ricardt and Boribori thought the latter was preferable.

They found a suitable spot, lit a small fire, and Ricardt began removing his armor again. He took it off effortlessly, even without anyone helping him, as if he had been handling battle gear for a long time.

“You should be able to wear it again by tomorrow.”

Ricardt said to Marie.

“Okay…”

“You’re not as shocked as I thought you’d be.”

Boribori remarked to Marie.

“Huh?”

“Most people freeze up the first time they see someone die. Have you experienced it before?”

“Ah well, I’ve seen executions a few times. Beheadings, hangings, burnings, drownings, quarterings… Was this better than those? I’m not sure, but anyway.”

There were many types of executions. Since it was a time when honor was highly valued, the method of execution varied depending on the crime and the status of the criminal.

For nobles, execution was usually by beheading, though whether it was done with a sword or an axe made a difference. Being beheaded with an axe was considered dishonorable.

For witches or wizards, although not always, there was a high chance of being burned at the stake. This was to ensure their souls were burned as well, preventing them from casting curses even in death.

In rural areas, the lord might personally carry out executions, while in cities, there were professional executioners.

And often, these executions were public. With not much in the way of entertainment, public executions became a kind of mass spectacle.

One of the most horrific forms of execution involved taking the condemned to a high place using a ladder, tying them up, and then having a torturer flay them piece by piece for several days. The longer the person was kept alive, the more the torturer was paid.

“That does make sense.”

Boribori immediately understood. Despite his innocent appearance, Boribori had also become somewhat immune to cruelty due to the harsh environment of the era.

“But you know, how high does Ricky rank? Are all the academy students like you?”

“He’s number one.”

Boribori answered for Ricardt, who was roasting sweet potatoes and potatoes. Marie visibly reacted with surprise.

“Huh? Oh… uh…”

“Why? Was his skill not impressive enough to be number one?”

“Huh? No, no… that’s not it at all.”

Ricardt and Boribori had no idea why she was so flustered, but they didn’t pay it much mind.

“Marie, have you ever killed someone before?”

Ricardt asked, his eyes still fixed on the potatoes roasting in the fire. The flames flickered, casting a reddish glow in his hazel eyes.

“No. Not yet.”

“Then you should prepare yourself.”

“I’ve been steeling myself for it.”

“For what?”

“To not hesitate.”

At this, Ricardt and Boribori chuckled quietly, as if something about her words amused them. Marie blinked, unsure why they were laughing.

“Not that. I mean, you know when you start cutting down and killing people… it’s strangely addictive. Don’t get too caught up in it.”

“…”

It was a shocking and unsettling comment, something she had never heard even from her swordsmanship instructor. Marie found herself speechless. What kind of kids are they…?

Boribori, meanwhile, was rolling the hot potato between his palms to cool it down. Given the cold weather, it felt oddly pleasant to do so.

“Ricky and I talked once about why bad guys are, well, bad guys. Most of them, it turns out, get a taste for killing people. They enjoy the fear in others’ eyes, the way people look at them in terror. That thrill drives them to do worse things, and eventually, they reach a point of no return. They forget who they originally were.”

“That’s why I said last time that having principles is important.”

Ricardt said, offering her half of a sweet potato he had split open. Its golden interior emitted a mouthwatering aroma.

Marie, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, had nothing to say. She just took the half of the sweet potato, blowing on it as she ate it slowly.

“Training hard and becoming strong is just part of the process. It can’t be the goal in itself. I think it’s more important to make good friends and face challenges together.”

“Exactly.”

Ricardt spoke, and Boribori agreed.

But Marie couldn’t help but wonder if this was something only people like them could say. In a world where being weak meant being nothing, it seemed like such thoughts were a luxury.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. Whether it was because they had a different starting point or had climbed to higher ground, the two boys saw things from a perspective different from ordinary people.

The experiences they’d been through, the growth they’d achieved—it had been quite a year for them.

And there was another year ahead.

The three of them set out early the next morning for Beringen. It would take about a day of walking at a normal pace, so they quickened their steps a little.

However, the return journey wasn’t as easy as when they had left. The snow had started to melt, and the roads had become muddy.

Their ankles sank deep into the mud, so they decided to walk across a grassy field. The grass roots held the ground together, making it a bit more manageable.

It seemed like walking in armor was difficult for Marie. Despite the cold weather, sweat poured from her as if it were raining. However, it appeared she had trained with mana to some extent, as she managed to keep up, though clearly exhausted.

Ricardt and Boribori didn’t show excessive consideration for her. They didn’t offer to carry her, or take her helmet or sword for her. They simply gauged the time by looking at the sun, walking ahead and occasionally waiting for her to catch up.

“S-sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. We’re not tired at all.”

“…Huh?”

Indeed, the two boys seemed to have a mindset different from that of ordinary people.

Regardless, after walking diligently with a few breaks, they managed to reach Beringen by evening.

As Ricardt and Boribori entered the guild headquarters at the foot of the hill, they felt a sense of homecoming. In unfamiliar places, one’s nerves were constantly on edge, and that kind of mental strain was exhausting.

Dunkel was there, leaning on the bar with his elbow and resting his chin on his hand. The moment he saw Ricardt, his eyes widened to the size of lanterns.

He gasped as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Huh!”

“What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a dead man.”

“…No, it’s nothing.”

Ricardt, not paying much attention to Dunkel’s reaction, pulled out a few items from Boribori’s bag: Erze’s ear, Reto’s crystal ball and magic staff, and his grotesque nose.

“We’ve completed the request. How are the kids doing?”

Dunkel’s eyes, which were already wide, grew even larger when he saw the items placed on the bar. He looked like he might faint from shock.

“You didn’t withhold supplies thinking we wouldn’t complete the job, did you? That wouldn’t be fun.”

Ricardt’s words were polite, but his tone was unmistakably threatening. Dunkel, still dazed, stood frozen for a moment before hurriedly shaking his head.

“N-no, no! The kids didn’t starve, I swear. You sent a lot of money midway, remember?”

“Oh, good. That’s a relief.”

“No, I mean… you actually…”

“We had help. We learned a lot. Both me and Bori.”

Ricardt spoke calmly, though what he had accomplished was truly hard to believe, even if his tone suggested otherwise.

“Anything happen at the Academy? Besides the food issue, I mean.”

“Well… uh…”

Dunkel needed a moment to gather his thoughts. His eyes darted around as he swallowed, then spoke again.

“You might need to enforce some discipline. Some uncontrollable kids have joined recently. That’s a problem, if anything. But nothing too serious. Anyway, welcome back. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to make it.”

Ricardt simply smiled faintly.

“Please prepare some warm water. I’m exhausted. Feels good to be back home.”

“Alright, let’s talk more later, after you’ve rested. You did well. We’ll go over the reward details tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a simple task of killing just a couple of people. It involved eliminating two of the five members of the Ernburg five. And not only were those two dead, but the entire Ernburg five had been wiped out, along with two of the Empire’s Nine Swords.

Ricardt didn’t fully grasp the magnitude of what had happened. Whether the guild would take a stance on the matter, or whether it would attract attention from other powerful figures across the Empire, he didn’t know.

For now, Ricardt and Boribori needed to rest. No—there were three people who needed to rest.

“Ah, right. Prepare three baths. We have a companion with us. She’s an Academy student too—we met her on the way.”

Ricardt pointed his thumb at Marie as he spoke. She was wearing Ricardt’s red cloak with the hood pulled down low, making her face hard to see.

It wasn’t a difficult request, so Dunkel nodded. Through the cloak, the sight of her purple surcoat brushed the corner of his vision, but he was far too shocked to pay it much attention at the moment.

Ricardt unpacked his things in the room, undressed, and submerged himself in the warm bathwater. As he did, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion washed over him, almost causing him to lose consciousness.

Boribori felt the same, and so did Marie, who wasn’t used to traveling. After all, they had spent two nights sleeping outdoors.

Going through hardships together naturally brings people closer—it creates a sense of camaraderie.

Having that shared experience means they now understood each other on a deeper level, and as that sense of camaraderie grew, so did their bond, becoming more special.

And so, winter passed, and slowly, spring approached. New connections, like the budding shoots of spring, began to sprout.

*****.