Chapter 12
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 12
Rickert decided to spend the night at an inn Sandy had recommended. He could hear mice scurrying inside the ceiling and walls, but it was no different from his time in Stormherz, so he didn't mind.
After washing in cold water, laundering his clothes, and slipping beneath a fresh blanket, the fatigue from long days of walking and sleeping rough crashed over him all at once. At his age, a boy was meant to run around, eat heartily, and sleep deeply. Without tossing or turning, Rickert fell asleep in an instant.
It felt as if he had merely blinked before someone was shaking him awake. The dim light of dawn spilled through the window.
“Ricky. Ricky.”
He pushed himself up and turned to find Sandy standing there, already fully dressed and ready to travel.
“Do we have to leave already?”
“No, we have plenty of time. Take your time getting ready.”
“Wait a moment.”
Rickert rubbed his swollen eyes with the back of his hand and got out of bed in his undergarments. He began rummaging through his bag to pull out money—he needed to pay her for her guidance, after all.
“You don’t have to give me anything.”
“Why not?”
“How could I take money from my cute junior?”
“Still…”
“I had to head back to headquarters anyway, so let’s just say we’re traveling companions. How’s that? Now, raise your arms.”
Sandy held out Rickert’s clothes, which she had dried by the fire overnight. They were even smoothed out as if ironed. He wondered why she was going to such lengths for him.
“I used to have a younger brother about your age.”
As if reading his thoughts, Sandy offered a simple reason for her kindness. She didn't dwell on it or offer a lengthy explanation. That was all.
Pulling his shirt on, Rickert looked up at Sandy and offered a soft smile.
“Thank you, Sandy. Your heart is as beautiful as your face.”
Caught off guard, Sandy’s eyes widened for a moment before relaxing into a bright grin.
“You’re going to break a lot of hearts when you grow up.”
She even helped him with his boots, which had also been thoroughly dried by the fire, leaving them completely odorless. Sliding his feet inside gave him a warm, pleasant feeling.
“Double-check that you haven’t forgotten anything. We’ll leave as soon as we eat.”
“Okay.”
Rickert slung his bag over his shoulder and secured his dagger. The bag contained only his letter of admission, travel rations, a change of undergarments, and his travel funds.
Stepping out of the room, he walked downstairs into a dim, quiet main hall. It was dawn, so no other guests were around, but a large cast-iron pot sitting over the hearth simmered softly with stew. Unidentifiable ingredients floated in a bright red broth—a dish known as Eternity Stew.
It earned its name because people continuously threw in whatever scraps were available and poured in water or alcohol as it cooked down, ensuring the pot never ran dry.
Sandy ladled out two bowls and brought them to a table. There were no utensils; one had to either drink directly from the bowl or eat with their hands.
Taking a sip, Rickert found it tasted sour and faintly repulsive, yet it was also strangely palatable. It was an indescribable flavor. One thing was certain: as if laced with some magical powder, it was strangely addictive.
Lifting the bowl with both hands, Rickert blew on the surface and drank. A sudden curiosity struck him.
“About the Chicken Coop… Do women stay there too?”
“No, the women stay in a separate area. There are about eighty of us. Why? Interested?”
“It’s not that. Swordsmanship just seems a bit unfitting for women, since they generally have less physical strength.”
“Ah, that? It’s fine because of the Mana Drive. Women can learn the Mana Drive too, and once you do, the gap in physical strength practically disappears.”
“Mana Drive?”
“It originates from something called the Codex. It’s… how should I put it? A method of using the mana in your body to enhance your physical abilities or your weapons. It’s different from a mage’s magic; it’s much more physical… Sorry, I don’t really know that much about it either. They don’t explain it to us in detail.”
“So you learned it too, Sandy?”
“Yeah. But not just anyone can learn it. First, you have to be able to feel mana. Some kids come to sense it naturally after suffering like dogs in the Chicken Coop, others sense it quickly through innate talent, and some can’t feel it no matter what. And feeling mana is only the beginning. Increasing your mana capacity and purifying it of impurities is a whole different battle.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Sounds almost like magic.”
Rickert couldn’t quite grasp what Sandy was talking about. They claim to emulate who I was a hundred years ago, yet they’re practicing things I’ve never even heard of, he thought, bewildered.
“If mages master their arts by using their brains, you could say we master ours by pushing our bodies.”
“Then what do you usually do in the Chicken Coop to learn it?”
“You know… flexibility training, physical conditioning, swordsmanship classes, hand-to-hand combat, and meditation. Oh, and you have to pay a separate donation for every class.”
“A donation?”
“Which classes you take is up to you. You don’t have to take any, but if you don’t, you can’t compete. You can choose whether to pay the donation or not, but if you don’t, they make your life miserable. So, the kids try to earn money in their spare time however they can. Some end up straying completely, some can’t endure it and leave… things like that.”
In truth, this donation system wasn’t unique to the Adventurers' Academy; other academic institutions operated in a similar fashion. There was no set tuition. Instead, students paid money directly and voluntarily to the professors whose lectures they attended. There were no grade levels either—only specific tasks assigned as one’s tenure grew.
Rickert listened closely, forming a rough mental picture of how the Academy operated. As he listened, the stew cooled enough to be eaten comfortably, and he began to dig in properly.
By the time he was halfway through, Sandy had already finished her bowl.
“I don’t know,” she said. “If you told me to do it all again, I’d rather die. But just like Bletter said, I don’t think it was a meaningless time.”
“I know the feeling. When you overcome hardship and adversity together, people can become closer than blood.”
“…What kind of life have you lived?”
“Haha, it’s just something I heard somewhere.”
Rickert thought back to the comrades who had died in his past life. Though he couldn’t remember every single one, comrades-in-arms shared a truly special bond—a mutual belief that they were willing to give their lives for him, and that he would do the same for them. He remembered the moments they had laughed and promised never to thank each other for saving a life, and never to mourn if one of them died.
Rickert was a man who had lost more people bound by such ties than anyone else. As each of them fell, one by one, he felt a piece of himself die along with them.
Drifting into old memories brought an unexpected gloom over him. He swallowed the chunks of stew without chewing, gulping them down as if swallowing back tears.
“You’re really strange.”
“Hmm?”
“You look like a sheltered young lord who’s never suffered a day in his life, yet you took the Bilton brothers’ heads… and now, for some reason, you look so pitiful. You really are going to make a lot of girls cry.”
“Will you cry for me too, Sandy?”
Sandy burst out laughing at his joke, and he smiled back.
“You’re still way too young. Check back with me in ten years, and I’ll consider it.”
“You might have to wait in line by then.”
Sandy laughed even harder than before. Rickert was a truly peculiar young lord. Lacking both the arrogance of a noble and the timidity of a child, he carried himself with an easy composure.
“Finished? Shall we get going?”
“Yeah.”
The two stood up. Outside, the world was steeped in a deep indigo. Though the dawn air was chilly, it felt refreshing.
Unlike the side trails they took to get to Rheinfurt, the path to Beringen followed a main highway. They occasionally passed other travelers, migrants, and merchants. While most were armed or had hired guards, the heavy foot traffic itself suggested the road was relatively safe.
About four or five hours had passed since they left the city. As the deep navy of the world gradually gave way to vivid color—green sprouts, pink blossoms, a blue sky, and white clouds—Sandy proved to be far more thoughtful than Arno. Though it wasn’t necessary, she called for frequent breaks out of consideration for Rickert.
She stroked his hair often, teased him more, and sat closer to him whenever they rested. Rickert thought having a traveling companion like this wasn’t bad at all. In fact, he quite liked it. He was curious about Sandy’s younger brother, but he refrained from asking, not wanting to ruin the mood.
Eventually, they reached a crossroads where a heavy, knee-high milestone stood by the right side of the path. Carved onto it was the name Beringen.
“From here, it’s three days to Beringen at a leisurely pace, or two if we march hard. There are four days left until the fourteenth—what do you want to do?”
“Let’s take it easy.”
Sandy smiled pleasantly at his suggestion. And so, though their pace was slow, their steps were light.
Before long, the paved road ended, giving way to a simple dirt track that led straight into a forest. The two entered the woods and continued on. By the time the sun reached its zenith, they arrived at a secluded cabin with a turning waterwheel.
“That’s Baltz’s Tavern. It’s been run by the same family for three generations. Most greenhorns wouldn’t dare cause trouble here. The owner has contacts everywhere, and he’s a capable fighter himself.”
“Should we grab a bite to eat here, then?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll pay. For the lady.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Sandy shot back. “I told you not to do that.”
Rickert had put on a textbook display of noble etiquette, but he’d said it purely as a joke, knowing she disliked such formality. Sandy didn’t care for aristocratic mannerisms; what she liked about Rickert was that, despite being a noble, he didn’t act like one.
The two stepped inside Baltz’s Tavern. A few patrons were already present, lightly armed and giving off the unmistakable air of adventurers. But adventurers didn’t all know one another; even within the same guild, belonging to different branches or clans made them strangers. Moreover, if they belonged to rival guilds, blood could be spilled without warning, so encountering fellow adventurers wasn’t necessarily a cause for celebration. Baltz’s Tavern was a special place in that regard, functioning as a sort of neutral ground.
Familiar with the routine, Sandy walked straight up to Baltz and ordered food. There was no menu; meals were prepared with whatever ingredients were on hand, leaving no room for choice. Fortunately, it wasn’t anything like Eternity Stew—just corn soup and smoked meat.
Sitting at a table, the two engaged in lighthearted conversation. Sandy shared absurd and funny stories from her days at the Academy, and Rickert chimed in with easy rapport.
Before their food arrived, however, two men entered the tavern. They glanced around the room, and their eyes landed on Sandy.
Sandy saw them, too. Her face fell. She abruptly turned her head away and hurriedly pulled her hood up. Rickert wasn’t sure why she was reacting this way, but she clearly didn’t want them to see her face. Unfortunately, it was already too late.
The two men approached their table. One of them sneered.
“Well, look who it is. If it isn’t Sandy, the Whore of Beringen. You seeing this?”
“Yeah. Didn’t know she was into kids, though. Wonder how she spread her legs for those old geezers?”
“……”
Sandy remained silent, unable to utter a word. Rickert was equally speechless at the sheer absurdity of the insult.
“Let’s go.”
Sandy suddenly stood up and left the tavern without waiting for their meal. Rickert followed right behind her.
Outside, she walked at a brisk pace. Rickert jogged to catch up, but as soon as he slowed to a walk, Sandy quickened her pace again as if trying to shake him. He alternated between jogging and walking to keep up until she suddenly came to a halt. Keeping her hood up, she spoke without looking back.
“It’s true.”
“What is?”
“What those guys said. It’s true. My skills weren’t enough to become a high-rank adventurer. My memories aren’t all good ones.”
Rickert stared silently at her back before answering.
“So what?”
“Huh?”
“Did you think I’d look down on you for being filthy?”
“……”
“You don’t know what real filth is.”
Sandy turned to face him. Tears of shame and humiliation welled in her eyes.
“Let’s go. I’ll share the food my sister-in-law made for me. It’s really good.”
With that, Rickert took the lead. Sandy stood dazed for a moment before following the young boy.
The forest was shaded by tall trees, but since it was still midday, it wasn’t dark. Sunlight filtered through the branches in scattered beams as they walked. After walking in silence for a while, they spotted someone leaning against a tree up ahead. It was the man who had called Sandy a whore. As if by magic, he had somehow gotten ahead to wait for them.
Glancing back, Rickert saw his companion standing behind them, blocking their path.
“What is the meaning of this?” Sandy demanded, her tone sharp with hostility.
The man sneered just as he had in the tavern. “We’re from the same Academy, aren’t we? Show a little charity.”
“You lunatic.”
“You opened your legs for those old bastards, but a young guy like me is out of the question? Or is your taste strictly kids now?”
“It’s not like that! He’s an incoming Academy student!”
“Oh, is that so? Sure you’re not just sleeping with him to lure him into the Chicken Coop? Do they give you a prize for recruiting clueless brats?”
“I told you, it’s not like that! Move aside. My clan won’t let this go.”
“And what the fuck is your little clan of nobodies going to do about it?”
Realizing this was no mere crude joke, Sandy drew the sword and whip from her hips. She whispered to Rickert, “Run. No matter what, run. Make your way back to the tavern and contact our people in Rheinfurt.”
“……”
“I’ll protect you. Don’t be nervous. Just run as fast as you can.”
At that moment, the two adventurers closed in from the front and back, drawing their weapons.
“What are you two muttering about? You think we’re just gonna let him run?”
The man in front stepped forward and casually swung his sword sideways. A nearby bush was sliced cleanly in two. Instantly, he darted forward like the wind—a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye.
Sandy snapped her whip with swift precision, but in that split second, he ducked beneath it and closed the distance even faster. She swung the sword in her other hand, but to her surprise, the attacker backed off with ease.
His retreat, however, was merely a feint. The real threat was the hand lunging for Rickert from behind. They intended to grab him as a hostage to force her compliance; injuring Sandy had never been their primary goal.
The man behind them reached out to grab Rickert. But Rickert twisted his body to dodge, and in the same instant, the man felt a sharp sting at his wrist. Blood spurted from the wound.
“Ugh! Fuck!”
He recoiled in shock. Rickert had already drawn his dagger.
The man who had been facing Sandy gasped, then immediately swung his sword toward Rickert like a bolt of lightning. Sensing the gap in their skill, Sandy took a step back, her eyes widening in horror at what was about to happen.
“No!”
Her scream echoed through the forest. But the scene that followed was completely different from the tragedy she anticipated.
Holding his dagger in a reverse grip, Rickert brought it crashing down on the blade swinging toward him.
Clang!
The sharp ring of metal resounded as the attacker’s sword snapped in two. The loss of his weapon sent him stumbling forward off-balance. As the shattered blade flew past Rickert’s hair, Rickert put his full weight into a roundhouse kick, smashing it into the man’s calf like a heavy club.
With a sickening crack, the man’s knee buckled sideways, and he crashed to the ground.
Though his left leg was numb and his mind blank with shock, his trained body reflexively tried to push himself up. But he couldn’t. The sharp tip of a dagger was pressed directly against his throat.
“Don’t move.”
A chilling warning fell over him. Propped on his elbows, the man looked up at Rickert. The boy’s face was utterly expressionless, radiating a cold, deadly pressure.
His companion, still clutching his bleeding wrist, stood frozen, his face a mask of stunned disbelief at the incomprehensible turn of events.
Amidst the heavy silence, Rickert spoke again, his voice frigid.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“W-what?”
“You just didn’t expect to be the one getting beaten. You brought this on yourself. Am I wrong?”
He meant that the man had picked the fight, drawn his weapon, and earned this consequence entirely on his own.
“…W-what…”
“Since you people claim to imitate me, I’ll teach you something. No matter how fast you are, it’s useless if you don’t understand the point of force. Your ‘mana’ or whatever means nothing without it. Do you understand?”
“……”
“And from now on, whether you like it or not, you will learn to watch your mouth.”
With those words, Rickert plunged the blade under the man’s chin, piercing straight through his tongue before pulling it back out.
“Aargh! Gurgle! Cough! Kah!”
The man tried to scream, but blood flooded his throat, choking him into a violent fit of coughing.
Rickert wiped his dagger clean on the man’s tunic, stood, and sheathed it at his waist.
“Let’s go.”
Sandy remained frozen in place, paralyzed by shock. Rickert took her by the wrist and led her away from the scene. As if the sun had momentarily passed behind a cloud, the shadows in the forest seemed to deepen.
Arc 3 – Shadows from a Century Ago. End.