Chapter 27
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 27
It looked like a structure built by giants, its scale so immense that it was hard to believe humans could have constructed it. Even from a distance, its grandeur was imposing, feeling as though it stood right before your eyes.
Not far from Torvail, nestled between deep valleys, stood a massive gate. Fittingly, it was called the Giant's Gate. No one knew who built it, when, or for what purpose.
That gate was the doorway to the Eastern Campaign Front, Fernland. It remained unchanged, exactly as it had been a hundred years ago.
Rickert stepped a short distance away from the city and gazed absently at the gate. As he did, memories of that time washed over him, bringing with them the familiar ghosts of fear, worry, anxiety, and resignation.
The gate stood firmly shut, as if sealing away a great demon capable of bringing about the end of the world.
"Man, this feels amazing. I can't stop touching it," Volka said, ruffling Rickert's fluffy blond hair. His skin had returned to normal quickly enough, but the hair was another story. It seemed he would be stuck with it for a while.
Rickert didn't mind the playful touch, but whenever he stood still, everyone else tried to get a feel, too. He found himself swatting his hands over his head as if shooing away flies.
At the sight, Volka and the other students snickered, Molty smiled warmly, and Ice simply stared at him in silence.
"What did Old Man Alter say?" Rickert asked, turning to Volka. Alter was the clan master who served as the branch head for the Beringen Adventurers' Guild in Torvail.
Surprisingly, unlike the Rheinfurt branch, which merely rented space in a Thieves' Guild building, the Torvail branch had its own dedicated structure. Then again, Rickert thought, shouldn't that be the standard?
"Same old story," Volka replied. "Muttering about the higher-ups and telling us to just wait for now."
Rickert's group had only come to support the request. The adventurers were the ones meant to execute it; the students were merely assistants. But with the incident on the road, the guild had to formulate a proper response. They had to decide whether to abandon the request and go to war, or to end things here—and if so, what kind of agreement they would need to reach.
A week had already passed since their arrival. In short, everything was on hold.
Of course, thanks to that, they were all thoroughly enjoying an unexpected vacation, complete with warm baths, fresh food, and cool, exotic scenery.
"Hey! You lot!"
Someone called out from behind them. Turning, they saw a guild member motioning for them to come over. The Academy students, who had been scattered across the field, gathered and approached him.
"Come to the branch. The branch head has something to tell you."
"What is it? Are we finally starting the request?" Volka asked, but the guild adventurer merely shrugged.
"How should I know? Orders from the higher-ups are split between official and unofficial channels."
Well, I'll find out when I hear it myself, Rickert thought.
Rickert and his party entered a slightly tilted, cylindrical building in the city that looked like something a witch might live in. It was a cozy structure with an attic on the second floor, seemingly the perfect home for a lonely old woman.
Inside, scrolls were messily stuffed into bookshelves, and various herbs hung drying from the ceiling. A faint flame burned quietly in the fireplace, making no sound.
The man sitting at the desk saw them enter and beckoned them over with a flick of his fingers. This was Alter, the branch head—a man so fat one couldn't help but wonder how he had ever been an adventurer.
Rickert and the nine students approached him. Alter stared silently at Rickert for a moment. He was tall for his age, with a sturdy build, but his face was still undeniably that of a kid. And above all else, that fluffy hair…
"No matter how many times I look, I just can't get used to it."
"To what?"
"The fact that you killed Lorentz the Jackal."
"Wasn't he too stupid to be called a jackal? He poked a sleeping beehive for no reason."
Rickert was referring to how Lorentz had provoked the rangers of Griffinswald for no practical gain whatsoever.
"Stupid, huh… He was infamous for his cunning. Even we had trouble dealing with him. Well, whatever. The Guild Master met with their Guild Master for a talk. The Rubens Guild demanded the death of one of our clan-master-class figures in return."
"That's absurd."
"Yeah, it's absurd. Naturally, we rejected it. Next, they demanded we hand over the person who killed Lorentz."
The person who killed Lorentz was Rickert. The students standing behind him wore expressions that seemed to say, Wait, no way…
"And?"
"And in response, the Guild Master told me to give you this."
Alter pulled a golden cloak pin from a drawer and held it out. It was a carving of a laurel, symbolizing the Emperor, and an eagle biting a snake, symbolizing Beringen.
"What's this?"
"It's the symbol of a High-Rank Adventurer. I find mine too embarrassing to wear, but don't you go selling it. Ah, you're not an official adventurer yet, of course. Not until you graduate and finish your contract. But for now, it's yours."
He wasn't an adventurer yet, but this meant the guild was effectively treating him as one. After all, he could still decide not to become an adventurer down the line.
"And these are for the rest of you."
Alter pulled silver cloak pins from the drawer and lined them up on the table. They bore the laurel and the eagle, but the eagle wasn't biting a snake. They were the symbols of Mid-Rank Adventurers.
It was an unconventional promotion, considering they hadn't even caught sight of the deserters yet. Furthermore, it was a blatant provocation, carried out right under the nose of the opposing guild. The demand to hand over Lorentz's killer had been met with an action that screamed, Not a chance in hell.
Rickert picked up the gold pin, stared at it silently, and asked, "So, does this mean war?"
Alter shook his head.
"All-out war rarely happens, even if minor skirmishes break out all the time. This time, they deliberately pushed their luck, but they probably never expected to lose a clan master to a bunch of Academy students. So, long story short, we reached a temporary agreement to return the prisoners without demanding a ransom. Since they took a massive loss, we didn't push for one either."
In other words, the negotiation had been reasonably favorable for their side. For the time being, they wouldn't have to worry about attacks from the Rubens Guild while carrying out their request. Of course, the bastards might go crazy and ignore the treaty, but doing so would give other guilds justification to attack them for the breach. Thus, it was unlikely that Rickert's party would be ambushed again anytime soon.
"I was planning to tear that son of a bitch Lorentz apart myself someday, but having his head chopped off and burned isn't bad either. Khe-khe-khe. And honestly, it was fucking cathartic. For me, and probably for the folks in other branches, too. But because of that, you need to watch your back. The Rubens bastards will be out for your blood. So wear a hood. Cover up that golden broccoli hair of yours."
"It's not like I asked for this hair," Rickert retorted, touching his fluffy locks.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, you all need to get to work, right? I wanted to let you rest a few more days, but time is of the essence when you're chasing runaways. Divide yourselves into three teams. Then just follow the people I assign to you."
Rickert and the other students glanced at one another. It was time to split up. A brief flicker of regret seemed to pass between them.
"Can't we just do it ourselves?" Volka asked.
"Don't get cocky. Hey, fighting and doing actual work are two completely different things. Stop running your mouth and go learn by watching. This is your advance payment. I normally wouldn't give this to students, but I'm making an exception because you're cute. I docked it from my own pay for now, you hear me?"
The pot-bellied branch head slapped coin pouches onto the table one after another. Volka snatched them up without a moment's hesitation.
"Besides, you'll see each other again when you finish the job and go back to the Academy. If things get dangerous, use our people as meat shields. Just don't die. Now off you go. Go wait at the inn."
Branch Head Alter waved his hand, shooing them away. He seemed almost embarrassed by his own words. A smile crept onto Rickert's face. What a cute old guy.
Rickert and the students stepped out of the witch-like house and looked at each other once more.
"Are we splitting back into our original groups?" one of the female students asked.
When no one readily answered, Molty chimed in with an idea.
"How about we mix it up?"
"What?"
"Let's shuffle the teams. Don't want to?"
He was suggesting they form three new teams instead of sticking to their original groups.
"Well, I guess I'm fine with it…" Volka mumbled. Surprisingly, however, Ice was the first to step forward.
"I'm with Ricky."
Everyone's eyes widened as they stared at him.
"What? You said to mix it up. I'm with Ricky."
"Fine. Then I'm with Lara," Molty said, picking one of the female students as if he had been waiting for that exact moment. Lara's eyes widened, and she sheepishly lowered her head, her gaze darting everywhere.
While Rickert was still trying to figure out what was happening, Volka quickly claimed the remaining female student.
"I'm with Delphi."
"What? I don't get a say in this?" Delphi asked, narrowing her eyes in annoyance.
"No," Ice said flatly.
At any rate, with the choices made, the remaining students split up to form three teams of three. With nine of them, the numbers worked out perfectly.
Rickert was separated from Volka and Molty, whom he had originally traveled with. His new team consisted of himself, Ice, and the male student who used to hang around with the girls. The student's name was Palen.
Palen looked somewhat intimidated, and understandably so. His new teammates were Ice and Rickert; he was sandwiched between two monsters. Weren't they ranked first and second in the Academy?
While Rickert and Ice paid him no mind, Palen fidgeted nervously before finally striking up a conversation for no real reason.
"Must be nice for you guys. Getting to pick whichever girl you wanted."
At that, Rickert and Ice turned to look at him. They stared blankly at his face without saying a word. A cold sweat broke out on Palen's brow as he wondered if he had said something wrong.
In truth, Rickert and Ice simply didn't know how to respond.
As they waited inside the inn, the Beringen Academy students chatted noisily. They seemed relaxed. The fear of the new and unknown had eased. They teased each other and laughed, throwing their heads back with genuine mirth. Things that would have drawn sharp reactions in the past were now laughed off with ease.
Overcoming great hardship had a way of revealing how trivial their previous worries had been. Hardship and adversity could breed frustration and despair, but overcoming them forged strength and composure. This was growth, and the students were taking their first steps into adulthood.
Blades, blood, battle, and the deaths of comrades were part of their lives, but that didn't mean they had to remain gloomy or succumb to such things forever.
Rickert liked this feeling—watching these young men and women grow. What about me, then? The question lingered, but he figured it didn't really matter.
He didn't know if the war a hundred years ago had truly been necessary, but he found sights like this quite pleasant. Back then, after all, there had been no such thing as an academy. He briefly wondered what it would have been like if one had existed. What if, even without a family, he had possessed friends like these?
Yet in the end, it was Rickert himself who had guided them to take this step forward. It gave him a profound sense of pride—enough to feel that it was truly worth risking his life for.