Chapter 45
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 45
“There’s a system for anonymous requests that require a massive deposit upfront,” Dunkel explained, sitting in a chair before a small table. He was in the room where Rickert had stayed the night, which was now filled with a soft, white light that was easy on the eyes. “The client remains unknown, and only highly reputable individuals or organizations can even post them. All sorts of rumors fly around, but nothing is ever certain. If it’s true that you completed the request, that deposit will be paid out.”
Rickert and Boribori sat on the bed, listening. Boribori, however, had a vacant, daydreaming look on his face; Rickert was the only one truly paying attention.
“So you need to verify it, beyond just the physical evidence.”
Dunkel nodded at Rickert’s words. But right now, there was a far more serious problem than the request. He swallowed hard before speaking.
“Are you absolutely certain that Nameless X and Mad Dog Steiner are dead?”
Instead of answering, Rickert drew Steiner’s sword slightly from its sheath on the bed. As sunlight streamed through the window and caught the steel, a faint blue luster shimmered across its surface.
Sheathing the sword again, he said, “This is the sword Steiner used.”
“...”
The news that he had killed Erze and Leto was shocking enough, but this was on another level entirely. For a moment, Dunkel was at a loss for words. He wasn't just stunned by Rickert's incredible feat; there was another, far more pressing reason for his grave expression.
“Did something happen? You look like the guild is about to collapse.”
When Rickert asked, Dunkel barely managed to calm his racing heart. “It’s a power vacuum,” he said. “The Ehrenberg Quintet’s territory was the north-central region. Passing through was one thing, but the Adventurers’ Guild could never set up branches or operate freely there. Now that they’re gone, what do you think will happen?”
The Nameless had never truly held territory; he simply roamed the empire, hunting wanted criminals or seeking vengeance. The Ehrenberg Quintet, on the other hand, had a clear sphere of influence. Now, that sphere was empty.
A land without a master had appeared.
Of course, lords ruled the lands and criminal organizations operated in the shadows, but the Adventurers’ Guild was an independent power that straddled the line between both worlds. Securing a sphere of influence meant more than just money; it meant gaining control over the logistics and human resources of an entire region. In an era where the ‘roads’ connecting cities were paramount, a larger territory also meant a drastic reduction in transportation costs.
Securing a new sphere of activity meant profits in every conceivable way. More importantly, it wasn't a one-time gain but a sustainable one, which was infinitely more valuable.
“So it’s a matter of who claims that space first,” Rickert concluded, understanding immediately.
Dunkel nodded, his expression heavy. “As you’ll recall, we’ve had friction with those bastards from the Rubens Guild before. Things like that can be patched up and swept under the rug. But not this. This is something we can—no, must—commit our full strength to. A mobilization order has already been issued. Not just the Clan Masters, but Clan Leaders and all mid-rank adventurers and above are being gathered.”
It meant a guild war could break out. In fact, it seemed almost certain. It was ironic, Rickert thought, that they could gloss over a few deaths, but a conflict over vested interests would lead to war.
“We must be both cautious and swift,” Dunkel continued. “Tell me where you did it. Once the guild verifies the facts, we will move. We have the information first, so we have to make the most of our head start. And of course, this is top secret. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
Rickert wasn't the type to brag, so he nodded without hesitation. Still, his heart felt heavy. The Guild Master and the other leaders were probably in a meeting right now, racking their brains—debating whether to launch a preemptive strike on a rival guild, occupy the north-central region first, or attempt a two-pronged operation.
But was it really that important? Important enough to spill the blood of the young?
He had his doubts, but asking the Guild Master would be pointless. The man had his duties, and he would be a fool not to act. Intentionally or not, what Rickert had accomplished over the winter was about to stir up a massive storm. His attempt to save the academy students from starvation was about to unleash a freezing wind of blades.
When did the most people die? It was when the balance of power was shattered and the geopolitical landscape shifted. Their futures hung in the balance—whether they would live humiliating lives, crushed by a superior power, or secure their dominance and solidify their authority. The fear of vanishing drove them to seek power, and the desire to survive fueled their ambition. The question of war was not something that could be resolved through persuasion.
Listening to the situation unfold, Rickert felt this truth deeply.
“Leto and Erze’s bodies should be near Leto’s laboratory in Sidria, assuming no one has disturbed them. The rest are in a ruined village called Lindveil. The nearest city is Rigenhafen; you’ll find the village if you head north from there. But I can’t tell you where I buried the Nameless. That’s personal, so please understand.”
Since confirming the deaths of the Ehrenberg Quintet was the most critical part, Dunkel nodded readily. The confirmation was merely a formality, anyway. Seeing Rickert in possession of Steiner’s sword and the Ghost Sword was all the proof he needed.
“But, um…” Boribori, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. The atmosphere was heavy, but his expression showed he hadn’t quite grasped the gravity of the situation. “If skilled adventurers are being summoned, does that mean we can see Volka, Ice, and the other friends who graduated before us?”
At the innocent question, Dunkel felt a breath of fresh air cut through the tension. He offered a gentle smile.
“They won’t be in the city for long. As soon as the higher-ups make a decision, they’ll be deployed to the field. If your paths happen to cross, you might see them. Otherwise, you probably won’t. We have to move quickly. If a large number of our people start moving, the other guilds will know something is up.”
“Do I have a task as well?” Rickert asked.
“No. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but… how should I put this? For now, you are a person of interest, both inside and outside the guild. Stay at the academy. You have practically surpassed the status of a student. Do you know what that means?”
“It means walking on the edge of a blade,” Rickert said, his gaze drifting toward the window. Memories of his previous life surfaced—a life lived on a knife’s edge. It was a familiar feeling, but an unwelcome one. Had anything really changed? He didn’t know.
“Yes… Then get some rest. Don’t think about anything else. And… I’m starting to find you a bit frightening.”
It felt like an unnecessary comment, but it was an honest one. Rickert simply offered a faint smile, his eyes still fixed on the view outside. Dunkel couldn’t tell what that smile meant. Killing a Swordmaster at the age of twelve? What would happen when he became an adult? Could he possibly grow even stronger? Perhaps he was witnessing the beginning of a legend.
For Dunkel and the guild, how to handle Rickert was becoming a serious headache. He was, quite literally, beyond common sense.
Dunkel left the room, leaving the clear, white light behind.
As soon as he was gone, Boribori, perhaps finding the atmosphere uncomfortable, flopped face down on the bed. Swinging his legs back and forth, he asked, “What are you going to do when you get the deposit?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“How about we buy clothes for all the academy kids?”
“Hmm?”
“We all wear the same thing. Of course, it’ll be a bit different for the girls. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Rickert briefly pictured the students all wearing matching outfits. He had no idea what they would wear, so the image didn't form easily. But Boribori, with his penchant for sewing and flowers, seemed to have some ideas.
“Sure, let’s do that,” Rickert agreed lightly.
Boribori grinned, already amused by the thought. Rickert smiled along with him. The light in the room was clear, but the clouds of war were gathering in the distance. They couldn't laugh without a care in the world, but sometimes, the most lighthearted decisions were the ones that lingered the longest.
*
Rickert and Boribori showed Marie around Beringen.
Just as Volka had done for them, they explained the city’s districts, what to watch out for, and where the major shops were located. They helped her sell her armor and buy clothes and other necessities for academy life. The cloth merchant tilted his head in confusion at her surcoat, but she still got a decent price for it.
She could have bought a new sword, but Marie decided to keep Steiner’s for the time being.
“I’ll give it to you if you take first place,” Rickert said. “Until then, it’s just a loan.”
“Doesn’t that mean I have to beat you, Ricky?”
“I guess it does. Anyway.”
“This seems like a really good sword, by the way. I know a thing or two about them.”
“It’s a problem if it’s too good,” Rickert said. “There’s no proper place to sell it around here.” Honestly, the thought of going to a big city and putting it up for auction was a hassle. He’d considered selling it through the guild, but they clearly had bigger things to worry about right now.
“Thanks,” Marie said. “Can I name it?”
“Name what?”
“The sword.”
“That’s the kind of thing only girls do.”
“...Huh?”
“Ah.” Rickert instantly realized his mistake. Marie was, after all, a girl. “Sorry.”
But Marie didn’t seem to mind, just giving him a playful grin. “Well, since I’m a girl, it doesn’t matter. I’ll name it Ricky. The Famed Sword, Ricky.”
“Haha…” Rickert could only manage an apologetic, awkward laugh.
“What? Me too, me too! I want to name mine!” Boribori chimed in excitedly while Rickert was still reeling from embarrassment.
“Doesn’t that already have a name? The Ghost Sword.”
“No, that’s not my style. What should I call it? Hmm… Nameless Sword. Nameless Sword sounds good. Having no name is its name.”
“...”
Knowing the story behind the sword, Rickert couldn't bring himself to joke about it, and he fell silent. But Boribori wasn't gloomy; he was just excited. As if to keep the mood going, he turned to Rickert.
“You should name yours too, Ricky.”
“I’m fine. No thanks.”
“They say you should treat a sword like your best friend or your most beloved lover,” Marie chimed in, supporting Boribori. “Wouldn’t it be nice to at least give it a name?”
Rickert didn’t know where she’d heard that, but it fit with the slightly old-fashioned, serious side of her he was starting to see.
“No. There’s no need for that kind of sentimentality. A sword is just a sword.”
“Ricky, sometimes you talk like an old man.”
“Me?” Rickert’s eyes widened at Marie’s blunt remark. Boribori burst into laughter, nodding in agreement.
Perhaps it was because they had shared the hardships of sleeping outdoors, but the three of them seemed to have grown close in just a few days. They got along well, their conversation flowed endlessly, and they didn’t hesitate to tease one another, with the target simply laughing it off.
When Marie was buying clothes, Boribori got involved, recommending a dueling outfit similar to riding clothes. He was probably using it as a reference for the clothes he wanted to buy for the other students. Marie was tall and made for an excellent model. The slightly tight-fitting clothes clearly revealed her well-trained physique. Judging by her firm thighs, slender ankles, and straight posture, she looked capable of wielding a powerful sword.
It wasn't true for everyone, but Rickert could roughly gauge a person’s skill just by observing their everyday posture.
She bought a few sets of clothes for combat, training, and daily wear. Having sold her armor, she had more than enough money.
The three of them ate fresh chicken soup and bread at the guild before setting off for the academy. The walk through the fields was pleasant; the vast, dew-kissed plains here felt like the best in the world. The flowers that Boribori loved were blooming everywhere. Violets, daffodils, starflowers… Wait, violets aside, why do I know these names? Rickert wondered.
By the time they arrived at the academy after a six-hour walk, it was evening. Though the air was cold, the large moonflower rising over the distant fields gave off a warm feeling. Carrying the stars overhead, they climbed the long cliffside stairs, passed through the castle gates, and finally reached the academy grounds.
Rickert pointed to a building in the courtyard. “That’s the girls’ dormitory. The boys’ is over there. Since it’s night, there’s no one out to greet us, but the kids on guard duty should be out soon. Anyway, let’s meet tomorrow.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. If you have any trouble, let me know.”
“Okay.”
Rickert smiled faintly and entered the Inner Keep with Boribori. But as soon as they were inside, the atmosphere felt strangely off.
A student walking down the hallway saw Rickert, gasped, and shouted, “Ricky!”
“Long time no see. How have you been?”
Rickert had only offered a casual greeting, but at the sound of his name, students suddenly poured out of the dormitory, rushing toward him and crowding around.
“Ricky!”
“What’s with you guys?”
“I thought you were dead!”
“Not me! I knew you’d survive, Ricky!”
“Thanks to you, not many of us died!”
“Where did you go? What did you do?”
Rickert was bewildered. Had he really been this close to the other kids? But it didn’t feel bad. He was glad they were all doing well. In a way, he had achieved his goal. A sense of pride mixed with his awkward, sheepish smile. He didn’t know how to answer with everyone shouting over each other, and the crowd made it difficult to get back to his room.
When Rickert finally reached his doorway, however, he saw something strange. The room was supposed to house twenty people, but there were only about ten inside. Furthermore, the bunk beds were gone; the top bunks of all ten beds had been torn off.
The ten students inside stared back at Rickert. The crowd behind him fell silent and backed away. Something was very wrong.
Rickert quietly observed the new students, unslung the sword from his shoulder, handed it to a boy nearby, and stepped into the room.
“Where’s my spot? And who are you?”
“Are you Ricky?” one of the students replied. He was neatly dressed, and his clothes looked expensive, unlike those of the regular students.
“Who are you?” Rickert repeated.
The student sneered. “I am Karlich, the fourth son of the proud House Rosten. A pleasure to meet you, but we’d like to rest quietly now. Would you mind leaving?”
Nobles. He’d heard they were coming, and it seemed they had enrolled while he was away.
Rickert just stared blankly at Karlich, his expression saying, So what? Then he spoke.
“Have you gone through the initiation yet?”
“Pfft. We have no desire to participate in such a vulgar event.”
“That’s too bad. Whether you participate or not isn’t up to you.”
“What?”
The moment Karlich frowned, a flash crossed his vision.
Slap!
A terrifyingly loud slap sent Karlich stumbling sideways with a thud. The students who had been lounging on the beds jumped to their feet, and those leaning against the walls straightened up. The crowd of students watching from the doorway all gasped. Striking a noble was a serious crime.
But Rickert’s initiation wasn’t over.
“We’re not done yet.”
He grabbed the fallen Karlich by the hair and slapped him hard across both cheeks again.
“Y-You… wait!”
Slap! Crack!
After two more slaps, Karlich’s eyes rolled back, and he was half-unconscious. Blood mixed with saliva trickled from his split lip. Rickert kicked and stomped on his groveling form.
Thud! Thud! Thwack!
“Weakling,” Rickert spat, looking around at the remaining nobles. “Next? Anyone else who hasn’t gone through initiation?”
“Y-you… you…” one of them stammered, too shocked to form words.
Rickert stepped up to him and delivered a powerful low kick.
Thwack!
“Argh!”
With that single blow, the student collapsed, his mouth agape. The beating continued for him as well.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
“You bastard!” someone shouted.
They all rushed him at once, but that only shortened the time needed for the initiation. Like a rampaging tiger, Rickert thrashed every single one of them.
Thud! Crack! Thwack! Thud! Thud!
The sounds of the beatings echoed through the quiet Inner Keep. The regular students watched with bated breath.
Just then, Karlich, his cheeks swollen to purple mounds, barely regained his senses and managed to speak. “You bastard… Do you know who my father is? How dare you treat a noble like this…”
Rickert said nothing. He simply kicked Karlich again as he tried to push himself up.
Thud!
“Ugh!”
Then, grabbing him by the hair, Rickert dragged him outside. He flung open the main door of the Inner Keep, threw the boy out, and pointed at the miserably collapsed Karlich.
“Make sure to bring your father. Until then, you’re not allowed back in here.”
“W-wait, wait!”
Slam.
Rickert mercilessly slammed the door shut.
Left outside after being beaten to a pulp, Karlich felt the biting cold threaten his life. Forgetting his status entirely, he pounded on the door and pleaded.
“H-hey! Just a second! Hey!”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
There was no response from inside.
Rickert returned to the room and addressed the remaining nobles. “Since you tore the beds apart, you’ll sleep on the floor until you fix them, whether you do it yourselves or pay for it. Any complaints?”
“...”
None of the students groaning on the floor dared to say a word. If they so much as opened their mouths, they might end up like Karlich.
In the face of overwhelming violence, there was no status. Everyone was equal.