The Warrior's Ballad

Chapter 113

Translator: WilliaWhy doesn't it work? Why. We have the same arms and legs. Ricardt finally abandoned such thoughts.

Just as there are things that come naturally to him, there are also things that simply do not, and he finally accepted that fact.

What comes naturally to me, others desperately try to achieve. The true difference between them and me wasn't whether they could or couldn't do it, but in what they desired.

Those who desire and those who don't desire. A person who desires something is bound to suffer from that very fact.

Therefore, those who desire must be prepared for unhappiness, and desiring happiness is contradictory from the start.

That does not mean, however, that a person struggling within that contradiction should be called foolish. Because if I ask myself whether I am truly wise, the answer would be no.

Ricardt reflected on one aspect of humanity through the sword. Now he could see it. A little.

“Um... so, how is it?”

In the enclosed backyard of the longhouse, Roy, who had been swinging his sword for quite a while while adjusting his stance, asked cautiously. Probably because Roy was still young, the sword seemed too big for his frame.

The donkey, with a bored expression, chewed on a bean stalk as it watched the young teacher and his young pupil.

Ricardt silently watched his disciple for a while, then broke out of his contemplation and spoke.

“With that, you couldn't even kill a frog.”

Roy instantly became dejected. Well, as a teacher, he had to deliver reality checks when needed.

“Don’t get too obsessed with form. Originally, practicing form is about eliminating unnecessary movement and channeling strength properly. But if form itself prevents you from delivering proper strength, then you’ve got things backwards. Even as you practice form, don’t forget the essence. Can you feel the mana?”

“No...”

“That’s okay. Even if you can feel mana, your swordsmanship can still be terrible. As long as you know how to wield a sword properly, you won’t have any real opponents.”

That was only true by his standards. For an average person, mastering only swordsmanship wouldn’t be enough to face someone who could wield mana.

Ricardt still seemed to need more introspection.

“But to be able to cut someone’s neck with a wooden stick like you do, I have to use mana, right?”

“This kid, always getting caught up in looking cool. What's the point of that? It’s just a trick.”

“Looking cool is important. It makes you want to feel like being cool?"

“Is that so? Maybe it is.”

Ricardt tilted his head. He had no sense of authority as a teacher, and he seemed willing to accept anything, even things said by a child disciple.

“But never be arrogant. If a truly urgent situation arises, don’t worry about form, just stab the belly. The belly. Got it? And if your opponent is wearing armor?”

“Aim for the inside of the thigh.”

“Right. It’s rare for someone to be fully armored there. You don’t even need to slash, just cut through it. Or you could aim for the knees. They’re surprisingly hard to defend.”

Ricardt didn't just teach swordsmanship, he also passed along practical knowledge from time to time. Roy nodded solemnly, as if engraving it into his memory.

“When you think about it, the sword is like a vessel that holds your heart. Or maybe a mirror. Humans aren’t all good. Negative feelings can suppress and eat away at you, but on the flip side, they can also become a powerful weapon against your enemies. Just like how mishandling a sharp blade can injure yourself, but proper use allows you to defeat enemies and protect yourself and your loved ones. In the end, training in the sword might be a process of disciplining the heart. It's not about simply pushing away or suppressing negative emotions, but learning to handle them well.”

Just as Ricky in his past life and now was walking different yet connected paths, Ricardt conveyed to Roy not just teachings, but even the realizations he had come to recently.

That’s why the level of his instruction fluctuated. Sometimes it was so advanced that even renowned swordsmen would struggle to understand, and at other times he failed to teach even the basics properly. One thing was certain, he showed his thoughts and actions just as they were.

Roy was deeply influenced by all of that. Including the moment when he first met Ricardt and saw him confidently going to collect payment for the cow.

It might still be too much for a beginner, but how much he could understand was up to him. Perhaps, being yet untainted, there were parts he could grasp more easily.

"You're saying negative emotions can also be useful depending on how you use them."

“But you have to handle them carefully, just like a really sharp blade. Most people end up destroying themselves with it. I did too. It all depends on how you set your mind. It's your choice.”

“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good kid.”

Ricardt stroked Roy’s soft blond hair and gently pinched his cheek. He was such a lovable disciple, though part of him also felt pity. Having to struggle like this at such a young age.

“Let’s go.”

Ricardt spoke.

Ricardt and his group stayed two nights at the longhouse, then set out again. They went down the underground stairs, exited through a sewer that seemed to have been built long ago, and followed the mountain trail northeastward.

It seemed to be a path only known by a few, as they didn’t encounter a single soul. The thick woods appeared to be hiding secrets, and the towering peaks stood like silent witnesses.

It was late spring. Sunlight breaking into tiny fragments through the branches felt as fresh as new sprouts.

The donkey, Magnoli, clopped along with a calm, plodding rhythm. The beast carried the people, and the people carried the luggage.

"If something happens, it would be better to escape toward the mountain."

Ricardt said to Bremen.

“Why is that?”

“When frightened, people unfamiliar with the area tend to run into the woods to hide, which usually isolates them from their allies. But from higher ground on the mountain, we can keep an eye on enemies, and we’re less likely to get separated.”

It sounded like common sense, but it was something only those with experience would know. That’s why Bremen stared at Ricardt for a moment, then asked,

“...Have you worked as a mercenary before?”

“No. But I’ve done something similar.”

Ordinary sword wielders didn’t possess combat knowledge. Training in swordsmanship and living in a group conducting military operations were entirely different fields.

Still, just as crayfish and crabs were alike in some ways, people who made a living with blades could share certain overlaps.

“Well, you’re a swordsman. Don’t worry. I’ll keep a good eye on things.”

Bremen nodded.

Ricardt kept Roy close at his side and talked with Bori. Marie walked with Beka, and Beka looked up at Marie with eyes full of admiration.

Naturally, Ricardt and Marie ended up looking after the children, and Hartmann and Elia walked together quietly like newlyweds.

There are many people in the world, and each has their own wish, but right now, the wish of these people was just to continue their journey safely like this.

But, as always, violence and tragedy had a way of suddenly intruding, like an unwanted guest barging in against one’s will, ruining a peaceful and idle life.

At a certain point where the path turned, some men were blocking the road. Or rather than blocking, they just seemed to be sitting there, killing time out of boredom.

It wasn’t an ambush or a surprise attack, just a chance encounter from not being aware of each other’s presence. So at first, both sides simply stared at one another.

Just as the tension began to rise, the strangers saw Bori riding the donkey and suddenly froze.

The change in their expressions immediately told the group what it meant. A sense of foreboding crawled up their spines.

By the time Bori quickly dismounted and drew his sword, the strangers also pulled something out. It was some kind of strange metal rod, and when they raised it upward, a burst of flame shot up into the sky.

Piyuuung- Puh-ung-!

In that moment, Ricardt, Marie, and the group looked up at the fireworks exploding in the sky.

It was Hartmann and his family’s first time ever seeing fireworks, and their eyes widened in surprise. Meanwhile, the ones who had launched the fireworks quickly slipped off the path and ran into the forest.

Bori started to chase after them but hesitated. Then he turned back to the group and said,

“We need to go up the mountain. Now.”

He didn’t look terribly frantic, but the situation was serious.

Ricardt instinctively sensed this could be dangerous. It wasn’t a random assault, this involved spreading out personnel and setting up communication signals, which meant organized movement.

Should they head toward the ridge? What if enemies were already stationed there? Where would the attackers come from?

All these doubts passed through his mind, but as always, Ricardt’s decision was swift.

“Bori and Marie, guard the front and rear. I’ll go ahead and check the ridge.”

“Got it.”

Then Ricardt, without delay, fluttered his cloak and quickly ran up the ridge. He moved almost as fast as if he were running on flat ground, and at the same time swiftly and precisely scanned his surroundings.

In some steep sections, he had to grab hold with his hands to climb, while in others, he stepped from one spot to another as he ascended.

As Ricardt rounded a rock to climb, a spearhead suddenly flashed right beside his face.

He dodged by tilting his head back and then yanked the spear shaft. But rather than being pulled forward, the opponent simply let go of the weapon. A seasoned fighter.

At that moment, several others leaped down from the rocks and descended upon Ricardt as if to split him in two.

Ricardt, looking up, reached for his sword hilt, and as if time slowed briefly, a bolt of lightning burst from his waist.

Chwaaaang!

In a single blow, multiple weapons were severed, and arms, legs, and torsos were all slashed through. With a clattering sound, the blades fell to the ground, and the bodies thudded down after them.

Having crushed the ambush in one stroke, Ricardt thought to himself, I knew it. It was a tactic to attack from above if they fled toward the mountain.

Rubens bastards, relentless and crafty, as always.

Ricardt leapt onto a rock just a bit taller than a person. Looking down, he saw someone trembling in a corner.

He wasn’t a prisoner or anything like that, he was also an enemy. But when the ambush began, he got scared and couldn’t attack with his comrades.

“I understand that you're scared, but I don’t have time to wait. It’s best if you answer quickly. Where are your remaining companions?”

Then, trembling like a leaf, he pointed to somewhere in the mountain.

“How many?”

“T-Ten or so...”

“In the forest too?”

He nodded.

“How many in total?”

He shook his head, indicating he didn’t know.

After quickly getting as much information as he could, Ricardt stabbed him with his sword and killed him. Then, like the wind, he rushed to the location the man had indicated.

The terrain was quite rugged, so there were only a few viable paths for climbing, and the enemies had ambushed those spots. But this time, Ricardt turned the tables with a surprise attack and killed the startled enemies.

He tossed the corpses aside to clean up quickly, then scraped the ground with his foot to hastily wipe away the blood.

Just as he was finishing up, he saw Bori climbing up from below.

“Over here.”

Ricardt called out, and Bori turned his head to look.

It was a spot that offered a full view of the bottom from above, but from below, it was hard to notice unless one looked very closely. That’s probably why the enemies had chosen it as an ambush site in the first place.

Ricardt spoke to the others following behind.

“I’ll keep it short. You saw those fireworks earlier, right? That means enemies will be swarming in soon. But we’re not going to break through or run. We don’t know how many they are, and we’re not familiar with the terrain, so that’d be even more dangerous. We’re going to hold this place like a fortress. Understand? This is the best option we have right now.”

Bremen and the Hartmann family weren’t in full-blown panic, but it was still a shocking situation, so they just listened to Ricardt’s words in a daze.

“The path leading up here is limited, so it’s hard for large numbers to rush us all at once. So as long as we stay alert, even if there are dozens or hundreds, we can handle them. Bori will guard the path. Marie, stay close to the others. Bremen ssi, Hartmann ssi, don’t try to help those two. You’ll only get in the way. Think of yourselves as the last line of defense. Only fight at the final moment. Got it?”

Ricardt’s orders felt like a storm sweeping through. Bremen and Hartmann nodded with stiff expressions.

“What about you, Master?”

Roy asked.

“I’m going on the attack. Attacking is a form of defense too.”

“Can’t I come with you? Like a squire?”

Ricardt smiled and patted his disciple’s head.

“I’ll accept the sentiment. Hold on to that feeling. It’s not time yet.”

With that, Ricardt ran a short distance off the path and leapt high. His red cloak fluttered as he landed perfectly among the tangled rocks.

Then, Ricardt bounded down between rocks, leaping as if he were hopping, descending through an unmarked path, and vanished in an instant. At that moment, Roy felt an unexpectedly deep sense of emptiness.

Had it been a month since he started traveling with Ricardt? It certainly felt like several weeks had passed. Having always stayed close to him, being apart now felt like losing his way.

Family was precious, but as a boy growing into a man, Roy naturally longed for the wider world. To him, if his father was the pillar of his inner self, Ricardt was an ideal figure.

Meanwhile, members of the Rubens Clan, scattered across different areas, began to gather upon seeing the signal flare.

Like small detachments, they formed in groups ranging from as few as five or six to as many as ten or more, and their gear looked like something out of a real military force.

Only a small number carried melee weapons like swords, axes, or maces, while the rest were armed with crossbows, large shields, nets, billhooks, and throwing weapons.

They were different from typical clan swordsmen, and this was because they knew what kind of being they were tracking. They themselves knew best that there was no chance of winning in a direct confrontation.

But just because a tiger is terrifying and strong doesn’t mean it can’t be hunted. If you track it, drive it into a corner, and wear it down, even a Sword Master, being a human of flesh and bone, would eventually fall.

However, what they overlooked was that they themselves could become the hunted. They hadn't considered the possibility that a tiger with tactical thought and execution ability might exist in this world.

The first small group to arrive at the location came face-to-face with a man standing atop a large boulder.

His gleaming blond hair fluttered in the wind, and a red cloak billowed behind him. He had a sword at his waist and was looking down. It was Ricardt.

Looking down at them, Ricardt figured this couldn’t be all of them. He roughly assessed their formation and considered what tactics they might try based on that.

He had to admit, they were competent. It's easy to say, but splitting into small units and operating that way is a highly advanced tactic. Each sub-unit had to work well together, and they needed to be aligned with the overall strategy.

But among the six or seven men, one figure stood out. He wore a distinctive outfit, black with stag antler embroidery, and had noticeably pointed ears and swollen fangs, resembling a devolving vampire. His skull also looked slightly elongated from front to back, making one wonder if he was even human.

So they really do eat hearts, and maybe their bodies begin to transform? Staring down at him, Ricardt spoke.

“In the past, you discarded the honor of a swordsman. And now, have you even thrown away your pride as a human?”

The man below, looking up at Ricardt, sneered as he replied.

“Hmph. What even is a human? I wouldn’t know. Do you?”

“Look in a mirror. Then at least you’ll learn what isn’t human.”

“Beasts, humans, monsters, they all rot and decay the same once they’re dead. Only power holds meaning.”

“Then what happens when you face an even stronger power? If you can’t even inspire fear, you’ll lose your worth even as a monster. Pathetic bastard.”

Perhaps the sharp insight flowing from Ricardt's deep discernment signaled that further conversation was unnecessary, as the man gestured to one of his subordinates.

At that, one of them, holding a preloaded crossbow, aimed it at Ricardt. With a twang, the bolt was fired.

Ricardt didn’t take cover behind the rock. Instead, he launched himself straight toward the enemy.

It looked as if a red-winged figure was diving in. Drawing his sword mid-air and raising it high above his head, flames burst along the blade, like an illusion created by sunlight.