Chapter 104

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“These two say they’re Bori’s pupils.”

Ricard jerked a thumb at the boy and girl behind him.

Marie had been standing with her weight on one leg and a hand on her sword hilt, watching the strangers with a chilly gaze. Her eyes went round.

Blatter looked surprised, while everyone else naturally looked as though they had no idea what was going on.

“Bori has pupils?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“No, is he even capable of teaching anyone?”

“Isn’t Bori good enough...?”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean.”

There seemed to be a slight misunderstanding between Ricard and Marie. All she meant was that Bori’s swordsmanship was so unusual that it wasn’t something anyone else could learn.

That wasn’t important right now, anyway. Ricard turned to the boy and girl and introduced her.

“This is my wife, Marie. And this is Blatter, an older alumnus of Beringen Academy. He used to be an adventurer in the same guild as me. This is our guide, Bremen, and...”

While he was introducing Marie, Ricard went ahead and introduced everyone else too: Hartmann’s family, Dahlia and her son, and the four siblings.

The boy and girl, however, kept their mouths firmly shut for quite a while, as though shy around strangers, before finally giving their names.

“... Kaspar.”

“I’m Yulia. But are you really that Riki?”

“You don’t believe me? I believe you’re Bori’s pupils.”

Ricard smiled as he asked. The boy named Kaspar averted his gaze.

“We’ll know when we see.”

Still not quite convinced, then. It didn’t matter.

“Has Bori ever talked about me?”

At Ricard’s question, Yulia glanced at her companion before answering. They were trying not to show it, but the two of them seemed rather bewildered by the situation too.

“He said there are no geniuses in this world. Except Riki.”

“That’s all?”

“Our master doesn’t talk much about personal matters with us.”

“Did he mention me?” Marie cut in. Apparently, she found it fascinating that her friend was training pupils, and she looked expectant.

“He said you wielded the most manly sword of them all...”

“Huh?”

Marie was bewildered by the unexpected assessment, but Ricard could guess what Bori meant.

Bori had his own inimitable swordsmanship, while Ice’s was characterized by its ruler-straight precision. Marie’s was extremely direct, and at times downright explosive.

In short, rather than relying on subtle variations, she overwhelmed her opponents with power and speed. Its foundation was the swordsmanship of House Kelbron, established by Helauman.

In a sense, unlike the other three, whose styles had no clear roots, Marie’s swordsmanship had a definite pedigree.

“Still, it’s so strange. Bori, raising pupils. Maybe we should’ve taken some too?”

“Marie, you said I had no talent for teaching.”

“I could teach them, and you could help.”

“Shouldn’t we raise a child of our own first? Has Bori gotten married?”

Ricard directed the question at Kaspar and Yulia. They shook their heads.

“Does he have any pupils besides you two?”

“There are lots of pupils in the clan, but only four direct pupils of our master. We’re two of them. You have to have the talent to become a Sword Master before he’ll take you as a direct pupil.”

The Viola clan had a sort of ranking system: apprentices, probationers, trainees, and direct pupils. The boy and girl before him had been recognized as exceptionally gifted among them, and so Bori, a Sword Master himself, taught them personally.

“But don’t you have to learn ancient script to learn Bori’s swordsmanship? Studying that stuff is incredibly boring.”

“Ancient script?”

“Yeah. He writes letters with his sword.”

“I don’t know. We’ve never seen that. Our master has simply reached the pinnacle of the sword. He always says he was the least accomplished of the Four Swords, but we think he’s just being modest.”

They had never seen it? Ricard and Marie exchanged puzzled looks. Swordsmanship that looked like writing was the first thing that came to mind when they thought of Bori, yet these two had never seen it?

There seemed to be a difference in perspective between those who had worked alongside him and those he taught. Or had he never properly demonstrated his swordsmanship to the children?

“Anyway, it’s good to meet you. This brings back memories. Bori and I once talked about each taking pupils and having them spar, then betting on who would win. Unfortunately, I don’t have any. None of them could understand what I was telling them.”

“I keep telling you, Riki, you just have no talent for teaching...”

“No, I think I explained it simply enough.”

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but what are we supposed to do now?”

Seeing that the four of them were merely chatting, Bremen hesitated before stepping in. What mattered now was deciding whether they should continue on their way.

But according to Kaspar and Yulia, every direction was dangerous at the moment.

“Let’s hear about the situation first. We know it’s the war that’s made the east dangerous,” Ricard said.

It was a sound suggestion. They needed to understand the situation before they could make any plans.

Kaspar and Yulia studied the mismatched group for a moment before explaining.

“Ringwald’s Sword Brotherhood controls this area now. Their leader used to be an adventurers’ Guild Master, or so they say. We don’t know for certain. Anyway, he claimed he had succession rights here in Rotheim and killed the Lord’s family. Since then, he’s raised taxes and started enforcing strict laws throughout the domain, supposedly to impose discipline. Anyone who drinks, fails to pay taxes on time, doesn’t show loyalty to the Lord, or even acts suspiciously is executed without exception.”

Yulia looked toward the distant hanging tree as she spoke. Apparently, that was the result of his strict enforcement.

Of course, it was absurd for him to enact and enforce a domain’s laws when he wasn’t even its rightful Lord.

But while the others trembled at the sight of the hanging tree, Ricard saw through to Ringwald’s hysterical anxiety.

The man was afraid. His position was precarious, and he feared someone would do to him exactly what he had done.

“Then he must be charging enormous tolls too,” Marie said.

Yulia nodded silently. For all practical purposes, the road was blocked.

With open country all around, one might wonder why they needed to follow the road at all. But mountain ranges enclosed the domain’s borders, forcing travelers through a gorge. There was no way to avoid being caught.

The travelers’ expressions grew grave. Little wonder: the prolonged war had turned the east into hell on earth. Here, even people who merely acted suspiciously were killed, so being spotted was as good as a death sentence.

They didn’t have the money to stay in Wertheim and set out again later, either. Would they have to find work there?

Everyone’s face was dark with worry. Marie would follow whatever course Ricard chose, while Kaspar and Yulia watched him as though studying him.

“Why the long faces?” Ricard asked the migrants. “This is better than being attacked without warning. We know about the danger in advance, so we can act accordingly. First, let’s find somewhere to camp.”

With that, he headed straight toward the village.

Alarmed, Bremen called after him. They had just been told that anyone acting suspiciously would be killed without mercy, yet Ricard was walking openly toward the village.

“H-hey, where are you going?”

“To that village over there.”

“Won’t it be dangerous if we’re seen?”

“If they’ve killed people this indiscriminately, there’ll be empty houses. The border is actually more dangerous. This Ringwald fellow is terrified. He’ll be sending out plenty of patrols to watch for outside forces.”

His reasoning was sound, but the ease with which he reached his conclusion left them at a loss for words.

They followed him to the village, wondering whether this was really wise. Sure enough, there were plenty of empty houses.

The villagers were so emaciated that they showed neither surprise nor fear at the sight of Ricard’s party. They merely stared with lifeless, hollow eyes.

It was appalling. There was no one to protect these innocent people.

Ringwald seemed never to have possessed any sense of a Lord’s responsibilities or obligations. Naturally, he had no understanding of economics either. He must simply have been blinded by the title itself, glittering like a jewel.

Having done the deed, the fool had no idea what to do next. He had spent his life earning his keep with a blade; how could he possibly know how to govern people?

After looking around the small village, Ricard settled on a house with a ruined vegetable garden. Inside, it was bare.

“Let’s not unpack everything. Be ready to leave at any time. If anything happens, Marie and Blatter, protect the others.”

He intended to use the house as a kind of fortress. Fighting while protecting people out in the open was difficult. That was why he had brought them to the village.

“You two, come with me to the border. With any luck, we can deal with this and get through before the day is out.”

In moments, Ricard had assigned everyone a role, then simply walked away with his staff. He was so decisive that it left them wondering whether this could really be such a simple matter.

He headed for the domain’s border with Kaspar and Yulia in tow. He made no attempt to hide, walking in plain sight. The boy and girl followed, still looking thoroughly bewildered.

“So, how many decent people have you saved?” Ricard asked abruptly as he led the way.

“Let’s see, about... three or four?”

“Not all bandits are the same. Unlike before, there are plenty of well-equipped bandits who can actually fight these days. If there are too many of them, even we can’t do anything.”

Ricard hadn’t scolded them for saving so few, but Kaspar sounded as though he were making excuses.

“I imagine so. A lot of adventurers who used to hunt wanted men or take commissions must have become bandits now. So is this some sort of journey to hone your skills? Is that what Bori sent you on?”

“He said we could never become Sword Masters by training alone, without any real combat experience. Our master did.”

“He’s right.”

“But did you really teach our master?”

“I made it up.”

“What?”

“I only taught him a little at the beginning. After that, he figured things out himself. What’s remarkable about Bori is his unbreakable spirit. Looking back, he had every reason to turn bitter, but he never did.”

Ricard was remembering Bori being bullied back in the academy’s chicken coop.

He could have held a grudge, and once he grew strong enough, he could have tried to settle it. But Bori had done neither.

Even in this harsh, unforgiving world, he had seen only its bright side, only the goodness in people.

“Why are you two learning the sword?”

“... I don’t know. Because we’re good at it? Because we can get better?”

“Sure, well, give it your best. You should do what you’re good at.”

Ricard sounded uninterested.

Kaspar and Yulia, however, could hardly help being interested in him. This was the man their deeply revered master had occasionally admitted was far better than himself.

Yet he remained strangely shrouded in mystery. Of course, the faint traces of his reputation that survived by word of mouth were impressive enough.

He had killed a Clan Master at a young age, executed an infamous Sword Master. Riki the Severer, the Tiger of Kaitz, the genius swordsman of Beringen Academy, the Red Cloak.

But stronger than their master, who now stood among the Empire’s very strongest? That was difficult to imagine.

So they were curious. Desperately curious. They, too, had chosen the path of the sword, after all.

At the same time, they still had their doubts. Was this really him? Could he be an impostor? Could he truly be that strong?

“Actually, it makes me a little angry too.”

Kaspar suddenly blurted out what was on his mind.

“What does?”

“Ever since I first picked up a sword at seven, everyone called me a genius. I changed my mind about that after meeting our master. But I can’t agree that you’re the only genius in the world, Master Riki.”

Walking a little ahead, Ricard turned back toward Kaspar. Their eyes met.

He studied the boy with that distinctive gaze of his, the one that seemed to see right through people. Ice had called that penetrating gaze cheating.

Kaspar was in some ways a bundle of the immaturity and stubborn pride typical of his age. Ricard saw through not only that pride, but the shell around it, all the way to what lay within.

Turning forward again, Ricard said, “I think I know why Bori told you that. He’s too kind to say anything harsh.”

Even though they hadn’t seen each other in four years, Ricard knew how Bori must have felt when he said that to his pupil.

They had spent years roaming the wilds together, sharing good times and bad. After everything they had been through, it wasn’t hard to guess what was in his heart.

The bitter winters, fresh springs, sweltering summers, and cool autumns he had shared with Bori flashed through his mind.

But Kaspar, who could know nothing of those bygone days, frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Your swordsmanship is your own affair, but if you want to become a Sword Master, you’ll eventually have to face yourself. I think Marie, Ice, and Bori all became Sword Masters by overcoming themselves. That’s how it looked to me, anyway. They each had their own shackles.”

“...”

“So, Kaspar, is being called a genius really that hard for you to let go of?”

“... I don’t know what you mean.”

“‘Genius’ is just a word. It means nothing. Isn’t your refusal to let it go just stubborn pride? Look deeper, and it’s a sense of superiority over other people. I’m asking if all those admiring, envious looks feel so good that you can’t give them up.”

Kaspar’s face burned at Ricard’s cutting observation. He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t get a word out.

The conversation ended there. The three of them simply followed the road in silence.

The border was considerably farther away than expected. It was late afternoon by the time they drew near. Given the time needed to go back and forth, getting everyone through the domain today seemed unlikely.

As expected, armed men guarded the road. They appeared to be staying in a building resembling a guard post, and there were more of them than anticipated. Around fifteen, by the look of it.

Kaspar and Yulia started to take cover and survey the situation, but Ricard simply kept walking with his staff as though nothing were amiss.

“H-huh? W-wait a moment.”

If he was better than their master, killing fifteen or so swordsmen would hardly be difficult. Still, seeing him march straight toward them without a second thought was undeniably unnerving.

Ricard merely stopped a little way ahead and looked back.

“Aren’t you on a journey to hone your skills?”

“What?”

“If you can’t even deal with scum like that, when exactly are you going to do any honing?”

“...”

“Don’t tell me you’re strutting around with swords on your hips without being ready to get your asses killed. All for show. Tsk, tsk...”

He clicked his tongue in disgust.

“But the numbers should at least be roughly even. Or we should ambush them...”

“Bori must be coddling his pupils. And you’re both old enough to know better. Some great geniuses you are. Bah.”

Ricard turned sharply away in displeasure and continued toward the checkpoint alone.

A sudden surge of defiance seemed to seize Kaspar, and he followed Ricard again.

“K-Kaspar.”

Flustered, Yulia found herself following him too.

The men guarding the road had been chatting, but when they saw three sword-wearing figures approaching, they drew their weapons. A few alerted those inside the guard post.

Ricard walked up to them with utter composure.

“How much is the toll?”

A man who had already drawn his sword to look threatening answered him.

“One gold coin a head.”

“Don’t be such greedy bastards. How do you expect to make any money like that?”

“What did you say?”

“These two say they can’t stand your atrocities any longer. Your days of killing innocent nobles and tormenting people end today. Prepare to die.”

Then he stepped back, leaving Kaspar and Yulia, who had followed him, apparently at the forefront. Huh? Wait a minute. They hadn’t said anything of the sort!

“Bori and I handled everything ourselves when we were younger than you. Go on. Kill them all. That’s how you train. Let’s see some of that genius swordsmanship. You don’t call yourselves geniuses just for prancing around with toys and calling it sparring, do you?”

Kaspar and Yulia stood dumbfounded, not even having drawn their swords yet. More men emerged from the guard post with weapons in hand, looking to see what was happening.

Ricard really seemed prepared to stand behind them, leaning on his staff, and do nothing but watch.

Fifteen or so cold blades gleamed. By any common-sense reckoning, two people taking on more than ten was absurd.

Ricard, on the other hand, thought discussing the sword without ever having stood at the dividing line between life and death was the real absurdity.

How could someone walk the path of the sword and fight only when the odds were in their favor? To him, the will that flashed amid the uncertainty of victory or defeat, life or death, was the very foundation of a swordsman.

As had always been the case, Ricard and Bori had different philosophies of the sword. Especially when it came to teaching.