Chapter 5
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 5
Outsiders always seemed to bring misfortune. At least, that was how it felt to Rickert.
Hadn’t his life gone awry the moment those cavalrymen bearing red flags arrived in Haiden?
Yet, the visitor from the main house seemed far removed from grand concepts like tragedy or joy. He just seemed… a bit odd.
He was rather stout, which gave him a waddling gait, and his clothes were as colorful as a jester’s. A chest-length beard made it difficult to guess his age.
He also wore what looked like a nightcap. Did everyone who studied at a university share such eccentric tastes?
When he swept the hat off and bent his thick waist to bow to Abelich, he revealed a completely bald head. The sparse tufts of hair clinging to the sides of his head near his ears looked rather pitiful.
To Rickert, thrusting that shiny, smooth crown forward felt almost like flipping someone off.
Straightening up, the man spoke with a warm, genial smile.
“It has been far too long, my Lord. My warmest congratulations on the birth of your son. I must apologize for my long absence, and I am truly humbled by such a warm welcome. Sir Grout, you look as gallant as ever. Ah, Lady Eileen! It is wonderful to see you—oh, my apologies, should I call you Lady Stormherz now? Hahaha, you have done a marvelous thing.”
The visitor from the main house was also familiar with Rickert’s sister-in-law, as he had once served as Eileen’s tutor.
“You must have had a difficult journey in this cold, Dr. Leno. Is the Count in good health?”
“He is doing well enough, though I shall speak of that in more detail later.”
“Very well. And these are my sons: my second, Vilter, and my youngest, Rickert.”
Dr. Leno maintained his genial smile as he looked at Vilter and Rickert. He had not traveled all this way for a social visit; he was here to discuss the future of the two boys.
“Young Master Vilter, and Young Master Rickert. I am Leno. This is the first time I have seen you both up close since catching a glimpse of you at the wedding. I am absolutely delighted to see you both growing so strong and healthy. Hahaha.”
Dr. Leno was a retained scholar of House Caldebern, handling various matters of both great and small importance.
He served as a tutor, delivered the Count’s messages to other lords as an envoy, and provided counsel whenever specialized knowledge was required. In short, he was an administrator, diplomat, and advisor all in one.
While a retainer was like a permanent employee whose family served the nobility for generations, a retained scholar was more akin to a contract worker. If they proved their worth, they could remain with a noble house for a long time. Dr. Leno had resided with House Caldebern for twenty years, which was testament enough to his competence.
It was this impressive background that earned him such respect, despite being a commoner.
“By the way… is this the young hero who slew the wild boar? Rumors of the feat have spread far and wide, even reaching the Count’s estate. Indeed, one can see the fierce spirit in his eyes just by looking at him. Truly remarkable! Hahaha.”
Whether the rumors had been distorted along the way or he simply couldn’t tell just by looking, Leno addressed these words to Vilter.
“No, not me. Him. He’s the one who killed it,” Vilter said, pointing to Rickert beside him.
Leno stared at Rickert, his face momentarily blank as his mind struggled to process the information.
A boy who had barely lost his baby fat was staring blankly up at him, looking as though he were observing some curious specimen.
Leno blinked a few times, then chuckled, assuming it was a joke.
“Hahaha! I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, young masters, but I still possess a modicum of common sense.”
“It was indeed Ricky who slew it,” Abelich confirmed, his expression deadpan.
Dr. Leno’s gaze darted back and forth between the mounted boar’s head on the wall and Rickert.
The sheer size of the mounted head made it easy to estimate the beast’s massive proportions when alive. It was utterly hard to believe.
“…Pardon? Did he merely deliver the finishing blow to a beast that had already been brought down?”
In noble hunts, the lord typically directed the hunt, while his subordinates did the actual tracking, wearing down, and cornering of the prey. The lord would then step in to deliver the coup de grâce. Sometimes, this honor was bestowed upon someone else, and Dr. Leno assumed that was what had happened here.
“No. It was an accident of sorts. He stood his ground against a charging boar and pierced it cleanly between the eyes.”
“Oh…”
“He had the luck of the heavens on his side, of course. But his courage was the real deal. At any rate, given the season, we don’t have a grand feast prepared, but we do have meat and wine. Come, warm yourself and fill your stomach first. Boys, stay close and wait in your room.”
“Yes, Father.”
“This way, please.”
Abelich led the still-bewildered Dr. Leno toward the dining room. As they walked, Leno kept glancing back over his shoulder at Rickert.
Vilter and Rickert waited in their room. The two brothers sat in silence. While Dr. Leno seemed like a pleasant and cheerful man, the gravity of his visit made it no time for play.
Surprisingly, Vilter, who had been anxious for weeks, showed no signs of agitation now that the envoy had actually arrived. He simply stared out the window at the frozen world, his expression serene.
Migratory birds flew across the pale, icy sky. Occasionally, a villager would step outside to gather firewood before quickly retreating indoors, and thin plumes of white smoke drifted lazily from a few chimneys. Whenever the wind gusted, the bare branches of the trees shivered as if trembling from the cold.
It was a quiet, static landscape, yet today it felt strangely captivating. At the same time, even the most mundane things—a stray pebble on the road, a patch of withered grass—evoked a bittersweet pang of longing.
As the sun dipped lower and the sky began to turn, the door opened. Dr. Leno stepped inside.
“May I have a moment of your time?”
Vilter finally tore his eyes away from the window and looked at Dr. Leno. Unbeknownst to him, Rickert had already curled up on the bed and was fast asleep.
“Of course. Ricky, Ricky, wake up. You really are something else, sleeping at a time like this.”
“Huh? What…? Oh, it’s the clown mister.”
“Clown? I’ll have you know this is the fashion worn by the citizens of Baricelli, the city of paradise.”
“Really? Doesn’t look very good for stealth, though.”
“Why on earth would I need to hide? Anyway, take a look at this.”
Dr. Leno pulled up a chair and unrolled a large sheet of parchment onto the table. The two boys leaned in close, staring at the strange drawings covering its surface.
“Do you know what this is?”
“Not really. What is it a drawing of?” Vilter asked.
“Hahaha! This, my young friends, is a map. It depicts all the lands of the world we live in.”
“This is a map?”
In an era when maps were exceedingly rare, the boys could not immediately make sense of the drawing. A world map, in particular, was a true rarity. In truth, the world map Dr. Leno had brought was highly inaccurate, filled with details born of pure imagination.
Yet, the general contours were roughly correct. More importantly, nothing was better suited to shattering the narrow worldview of those who had never seen beyond their own small corner of the world.
Even Rickert, usually indifferent to everything, felt his eyes light up. Dr. Leno’s map did not merely show geography; it was adorned with all sorts of wondrous illustrations.
There were fire-breathing dragons, sea serpents swimming through the oceans, emperors wearing imperial crowns, and all manner of bizarre monsters, legends, and treasures. It depicted grand mountain ranges, vast deserts, sweeping plains, dense forests, and countless cities.
In his past life, Rickert had traveled all over the empire on a bloody crusade, but because he had focused solely on hunting down and destroying those who sought his life, he knew very little of actual geography.
Leno smiled warmly at the two boys, whose eyes were wide with wonder. He posed a question, as if testing them with a riddle.
“Would you like to try finding Stormherz on this map?”
It was an engaging challenge rather than a difficult test. Eagerly, Vilter and Rickert scanned the parchment, searching for the land where they had been born and raised.
Yet, no matter how hard they looked, the name ‘Stormherz’ was nowhere to be found.
“Stormherz is right about here,” Dr. Leno said, pointing to a spot.
“Here?” Vilter asked, tilting his head.
“Yes.”
“Why isn’t our fief named?”
“Even the County of Caldebern isn’t labeled, is it? In cases like this, one must locate the duchy first and infer the direction and position from there. This area here belongs to His Grace, Duke Brumbear. Since the County of Caldebern lies to the southeast, it would be roughly here. And if we look for Stormherz from there, it would be right about here.”
On the map, even the vast duchy was tiny. Vilter felt a strange distortion in his perception of space. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but rather a thrilling shock.
“It’s that small? Our home? It looks smaller than an ant!”
“From the perspective of the wider world, indeed it is. How do we commonly define the borders of the Empire? From the Polypus Coast in the west to the Black Forest in the east, and from the Chementa Peninsula in the south to the Mountains of the World’s Roof in the north. From here to here, and from here to here—this is the domain of the Empire.”
Even the mighty Empire occupied barely a quarter of the map. At this point, both Vilter and Rickert found it hard to believe.
Their disbelief was written clearly on their faces, and Dr. Leno chuckled warmly at their reaction.
“Beyond the borders of the Empire live the Salamans. They worship a different god than we do, and thus, neither side hesitates to slay the other. Yet, we also trade with them for silk, porcelain, spices, and meteoric iron. Though they are heathens, they are sharp with numbers and possess incredible craftsmanship. Legend has it that they inherited their techniques from the Dwarves. And here, this is where the Holy Emperor received his holy sword from an angel. Over here is where the hero Siegfried fell in battle, and this is where Ilya, the legendary dragonslayer, once roamed. And…”
Leno continued to point out places of legend, myth, and history. Just as the map itself was a blend of fact and fiction, the lore of the world was a tapestry of history and myth. But whether those tales were true or not did not matter; they were the spark that inspired humanity to dream and venture forth.
“And not all knightly orders are created equal. Take the Order of the Flame, for instance; their headquarters is located here. They take lifelong vows of celibacy and spend their days defending the Empire’s southwestern border from heathens. It is a noble calling, certainly, but a grueling one. On the other hand, the Order of the Lily is headquartered here. They are immensely wealthy, dealing in trade and moneylending. Though criticized for being far too secular, life in their order is said to be quite comfortable.”
True to his reputation as a scholar, Dr. Leno possessed a wealth of knowledge. Since Vilter and Rickert had never had any formal education beyond basic literacy, he seemed to know absolutely everything. He spun one tale after another, weaving history and legend into a narrative that held the boys spellbound.
Pointing to another region, Dr. Leno said, “This is Fernland, conquered a century ago by Martelus II, the famous Conquering Emperor. In the old days, it was known as the Eastern Campaign Front. It is said that the legendary devil, the chosen of God, the peerless slaughterer and Swordmaster, Ricky, hailed from this very place. Come to think of it, your nickname is Ricky as well, isn’t it, Young Master Rickert? Hahaha! Perhaps that is why you are so brave.”
Hearing tales of his past life from someone else’s lips stirred a strange sensation in Rickert. His chest grew heavy, and a cold chill settled over his mind. He did not actively try to suppress those memories, but they were certainly not pleasant to recall.
“Where is the Haiden Fields?” Rickert asked.
“The Haiden Fields? Let me see… is there such a place? Ah, I believe I have heard of it once. I cannot say for certain, but I recall hearing it was somewhere in the north, famous for its wool… If it is a place suitable for grazing sheep, it would likely be one of these three areas here.”
“…It is incredibly far…” Rickert murmured.
Rickert was referring to the distance between the Haiden Fields and the Eastern Campaign Front, but Dr. Leno misunderstood.
“Indeed. It would take at least a month’s travel to reach the north from here. But where did you hear of Haiden?”
“Just… I think I heard the name somewhere. But why did the Conquering Emperor go all that way to wage war?”
“The exact reason remains a mystery. However, one theory suggests it was because of a document known as the Codex Orient.”
“The Codex Orient?”
“Yes. It was a document discovered by an adventurer named Grunewald. You could call it a secret art of a forgotten ancient empire. It is said that by cultivating a certain power within the human body, one can walk on air, or reinforce a blade to slice through solid iron as if it were cheese—granting superhuman abilities. Many speculate that Swordmaster Ricky was able to wield such power.”
Huh? That’s not true at all, Rickert thought to himself. In his past life, he had never read a single book or document. He had been completely illiterate.
“Lately, that theory has gained widespread acceptance. After all, if spellcasters exist in this world, why shouldn’t such physical feats be possible? Indeed, several copies of the Codex Orient have been unearthed, and some individuals have truly attained superhuman abilities through them. While most copies circulating on the market are fakes, reports from certain Adventurers’ Guilds confirm that genuine ones do exist. Why else would the Imperial Family sponsor the Adventurers’ Guilds and train adventurers? In the old days, ‘adventurer’ was just a polite word for a common thug.”
Originally, adventurers were mercenaries who wandered from town to town, collecting debts or acting as hired muscle. Lacking any respectable profession, they had simply given themselves the romantic title of ‘adventurer.’ They might have viewed their lifestyle as romantic, but to everyone else, they were nothing but a nuisance.
However, following the discovery of the Codex Orient, emperors and kings had stepped in to systematically train professional adventurers. The Eastern Campaign Front, now known as Fernland, served as their bridgehead. Using it as a base of operations, they explored the surrounding dungeons and ruins to unearth ancient technology and lost knowledge.
“And it’s not just the Codex; there are also relics imbued with magic. Most are useless trinkets, but some are quite practical. Like this, for instance.”
Dr. Leno pulled a short wand from his robes. A fist-sized crystal was embedded at its tip, and when he tapped it gently against the table, it began to emit a soft, faint glow.
“Oh!”
Vilter’s eyes went wide with wonder. Rickert, on the other hand, showed a brief flash of surprise before quickly losing interest.
“Hahaha! With this, one has no need for a torch at night. It is my prized possession.”
“But what happened to the people who originally lived there?” Rickert asked.
“Pardon?”
“The people who originally lived in the Eastern Campaign Front—in Fernland.”
“They all perished. Or they surrendered and were assimilated into the Empire. Perhaps a few scattered tribes still remain in the deep wilds? But the one who brought that war to an end was none other than the founder of your house, the legendary knight Caldebert. The Empire’s greatest military commander, Caldebert the Linebreaker. There is a famous anecdote that he slaughtered so many barbarians in a single day that the blood ran ankle-deep inside the fortress. According to the records, even the citizens of the Empire were quite shocked by the brutality, and some criticized it as excessive. But in the end, he was granted a fief by His Majesty the Emperor and won the right to establish his own house, so I suppose it matters little. If we go strictly by the body count, he likely slew far more than even that devil Ricky.”
“I see…”
Rickert recalled Caldebert. The man had looked more like a scholar than a knight. He had been the only person Ricky could truly call a friend. Setting aside his brilliance as a commander, Caldebert had possessed a remarkably warm heart.
To think that such a gentle soul had committed such atrocities… It was difficult to fathom what must have gone through his mind. If Ricky had not left the battlefield, if the two of them had stayed together, would their fates have turned out differently?
He still vividly remembered the conflicted look on Caldebert’s face when Ricky had requested his discharge. What had he been trying to say? He had definitely looked as if he wanted to say something. It hadn’t been simple regret. He remembered how profoundly sad Caldebert’s eyes had been.
Back then, Ricky had been so utterly sick of war that he hadn’t even had the strength to care for himself.
And yet, when he finally returned to his hometown, the fate awaiting him was…
“Ah, it has grown dark. We should stop here for today. There is always tomorrow, and I have plenty of fascinating tales left to tell. You have much to look forward to,” Dr. Leno said with a smile.
Just as he said, night had fallen, and without lighting a lamp, the map was barely visible. They had been so engrossed in his stories that they had completely lost track of time.
“I shall leave the map here for now. I will collect it on the day of my departure.”
Dr. Leno left the map on the table and stood up. He walked over to the fireplace, tossed a few logs onto the dying embers, and poked at them with a metal poker to revive the flames.
“Sleep well, young masters,” Dr. Leno said as he slipped out of the room. The gentle, quiet way he closed the door behind him spoke volumes about his considerate nature.
Vilter’s attention remained entirely captured by the map. He carried it over to his bed and lay down, carefully studying every illustration and place name in the dim light of the room.
Rickert lay beside his brother, looking at the map with him until he drifted off to sleep. Bathed in the bright moonlight streaming through the window, Vilter continued to study the map late into the night.
Over the following days, the two brothers ate their meals and took walks with Dr. Leno, conversing on a wide range of topics. He was a truly remarkable mentor. He did not merely list potential career paths; he inspired the boys, planting seeds of hope and ambition in their hearts.
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Vilter expressed a desire to join the Order of the Flame. It was an order whose members swore lifelong vows of celibacy to guard the southwesternmost border of the Empire—renowned as the most dangerous and grueling of all the knightly orders.
When asked why he had made such a choice, Vilter replied, “Because I believe it will teach me patience and perseverance.” He had clearly taken his father’s advice deeply to heart.
Rickert, on the other hand, declared his desire to become an adventurer. But when he explained his reasoning, it left everyone utterly bewildered.
“Because I want to know if that war was truly worth fighting…”
