Chapter 55
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 55
When ten people gathered, you might find two of them were brave—three, at the absolute most. If those ten were to fight another group, the brave two or three would naturally lead the charge while the rest simply followed. If those few died, the others would scatter. To defeat ten enemies, you didn't need to kill all ten. You only needed to kill two. Or maybe three. Neutralize the core, and the battle was won.
The death of a single high-rank adventurer was a severe blow to any guild, as they were the ones who dictated a guild's reputation and prestige.
But when a hundred brave people gathered, a hero would emerge from their midst.
On a night with an extraordinarily bright full moon, ten high-rank adventurers died at once. This was on top of the many who had already fallen in duels. Though they didn't all belong to the same guild, the total number was staggering.
And so, the attempt to seize the Kaits Highlands crumbled—all because of a single boy hero.
The guild alliance, which had lacked mutual trust from the start, quickly dissolved as each guild pulled out of the war. Now they had their own fires to put out. They had tried to take a bite of what looked like an easy meal, only to get badly burned and retreat.
Yet, the war was not over. The guild alliance, led by the Haigen Guild, were merely scavengers looking to pick up scraps. The Beringen Guild's true arch-nemesis lay elsewhere: the coalition of guilds surrounding Siegfringer, led by Brabant.
That was precisely why the Beringen Guild's high command had been unable to properly support the Kaits Highlands. They couldn't afford to commit their main force against scavengers when their true enemy was still at large. But the scavengers were not a threat that could be ignored, either, which had given the commanders a massive headache—until a boy hero appeared.
News of the hero's deeds spread far beyond the guilds, reaching even the common folk. The tales of him bringing down the notorious Ehrenberg Quintet, winning twelve consecutive duels, and striking down ten vengeful swordsmen passed from mouth to mouth.
As stories do, his grew grander with each retelling—sometimes painted as desperate tragedy, other times as thrilling triumph.
In taverns and on street corners, among children and adults, rich and poor, highborn and lowborn, from prostitutes to young noble ladies, everyone whispered the young hero's name. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky…
There was power in that name. To hear it, to speak it aloud, made hearts throb with envy, desperation, and exhilaration.
Of course, people believed what they wanted to believe, adding their own embellishments. The legend soon drifted far from the actual events, and even further from the boy himself.
So, how did the owner of that whispered name feel? What thoughts occupied his mind?
Only he could know. It was a weight he had to bear alone.
A breeze blew, fluttering his red cloak. Standing at the edge of the cliff, Rickert's back looked somewhat precarious. One misstep, one push from behind while he was off guard, and he would plummet to his death.
Yet, whether oblivious to the danger or simply unbothered by it, Rickert merely gazed out at the gentle ridge in the distance, his hair swaying in the wind.
"Ricky."
A familiar voice came from behind. Rickert turned to see Boribori.
"Did you fight with Marie?"
Rickert couldn't help but smile. Boribori was likely asking because things had felt awkward between him and Marie lately.
"No."
"No? Hmm… Doesn't sound like a 'no' to me…" Boribori narrowed his eyes, placing a hand on his chin with a serious, thoughtful expression.
Rickert chuckled at his innocent demeanor but had no desire to get into the messy details of his love life. Then again… maybe I can tell Boribori a little.
"It's just… we can't be more than friends. Things will get better with time. There's nothing I can do about it."
Boribori's eyes widened. "More than friends? Is that even possible?"
"Well, I'm not really sure either."
"So there are things even Ricky doesn't know! If you ever have troubles, tell me. I'll listen."
Without realizing it, Boribori had grown up considerably. It seemed to have started ever since he met the Nameless. Rickert and Boribori were no longer just a leader and a follower; they were equals, friends who supported each other.
"…Yeah. Thanks."
"Anyway, you're still going to be close friends with Marie, right?"
"I hope so. But I can't force—"
"I have to go tell her!"
"What? Hey, wait!"
Boribori turned on his heel and trotted away with quick, rustling steps. He didn't look back, even as Rickert frantically called after him.
Marie was sitting with Delphi near the defense tower, chatting. It looked like she was either seeking advice or being comforted, as Delphi was gently rubbing her back.
Boribori ran right up to Marie and, sure enough, pointed back at Rickert while babbling away.
Watching from a distance, Rickert felt his face flush bright red. Telling Boribori was the biggest mistake of his life. Bori, you betrayed me…
Yet, Marie's expression hardly changed. She gave Rickert a single, emotionless glance before turning her gaze back toward the gentle ridge in the distance.
Boribori ran back to Rickert.
"Marie said she understands! I think you two can just stay close friends."
"Hey… you…"
"What?"
"…Never mind."
What was the point of getting angry over an act of pure, good-intentioned concern? Rickert simply resolved never to talk about such things with Boribori ever again.
Looking down from the cliff, he saw that the bustling crowds had vanished, leaving only scattered litter across the valley. It meant there was no longer a spectacle to watch—a sign that the battle here was truly over. Once an uninhabited, quiet place, the Kaits Highlands had returned to its usual tranquility.
Strategically, they had held the rear flank well. But now, Rickert wondered if there was even a need to defend this place any longer.
Four days had passed since they’d sent news of their victory. Rickert and his friends were waiting for someone from high command to arrive.
That person arrived shortly after noon, climbing the Kaits Highlands with soft, rustling steps. To Rickert's surprise, it was someone he knew.
"Sandy?"
"My, my, if it isn't our little prodigy. Already making your big sister run errands for you?"
How long had it been? Two years? Sandy, speaking slyly with a bright smile, hadn't changed a bit. She was still a beauty, with brown hair tied high in a tight ponytail and slightly upturned eyes.
Overjoyed to see her, Rickert gave her a light hug.
The moment he stepped back, however, he felt an ominous aura. Turning, he saw Marie hanging her head, fuming silently as if trying to swallow her anger.
Realizing his mistake, Rickert blurted out hastily, "Uh, well, this is Sandy. She escorted me from Rheinfurt to the academy. That's all. Just an older acquaintance… a senior! A senior!"
He stumbled over his words as if making an excuse. Marie kept her head lowered, taking deep breaths to maintain her composure.
Sandy glanced between Rickert and Marie, immediately read the room, and smirked.
"Didn't I tell you? I said you'd end up making a whole slew of girls cry."
Rickert could only offer an awkward laugh. It's not "a whole slew," though… Of course, if he included Daisy, that did make two, but Rickert had completely forgotten about her.
Like a veteran adventurer, Sandy offered Marie a piece of advice rooted in experience.
"Don't make it so obvious. That'll only make other women want him more."
It wasn't the right moment for advice. Marie glared at Sandy with the fierce look she usually reserved for battle and snapped back, "What do you know about me? Don't pretend you know anything."
"Hmm… Looks like you got turned down recently. You should drop the venom a little. It's a shame to see someone so pretty acting like this."
"Excuse me? Ha!" Marie looked utterly speechless. She was still too young to win a war of words with Sandy.
Feeling cold sweat break out, Rickert scrambled to defuse the situation. A woman's intuition really is scarier than a sharp blade.
"Uh, shouldn't we introduce ourselves? This is Boribori, this is our Clan Leader Volka, this is Delphi, and… this is Marie."
Sandy gave Marie an amused, patronizing look before turning to the others.
"I'm Sandy from the Gamecock Clan. I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Volka."
"About me? Not Ricky?"
"You lead the clan Ricky belongs to. How could you not be famous? And Mr. Boribori, you're much cuter than I expected. I heard you enjoy chopping people up."
"Uh… I don't really enjoy it…" In truth, Boribori was perhaps the biggest victim of the rumors, which painted him as a bloodthirsty lunatic.
"Anyway, it's total chaos out there," Sandy continued. "Get any two adventurers together, and all they talk about is your clan. Besides, what is up with last year's graduates? Between that Ice guy and the rest of you, it seems the Master is having trouble handling it all on top of dealing with the enemy."
"Trouble handling what?" The phrase grated on Rickert's ears.
"Well, the pie is only so big, right? They're probably stressing over how much of it to slice off for you guys. I heard rumors that some in high command are even suggesting not giving you any more missions. I don't know the details, though."
Every organization had its internal dynamics. Factions naturally formed around power and influence. While they could foster growth through healthy competition, they could also rot an organization from the inside out. It was a head-splitting issue, but an inevitable one as long as humans lived in a society. A thousand years ago or a thousand years from now, factional strife would always exist. The crux of the issue was always how to divide limited resources and power.
The Beringen Adventurers' Guild was no exception. Existing, influential clans and high-rank adventurers held sway, only for Rickert and Clan Viola to rocket to prominence out of nowhere. When the war was at its peak, the guild desperately used them. But now that they had room to breathe, figuring out how to reward them had become a thorny issue.
Give them too little, and they'd harbor resentment; give them too much, and the slice left for the existing factions would shrink.
How wonderful it would be if rewards were simply distributed rationally based on merit, but the world was never that simple. Two things could blind a person's senses: power and money. Once those were on the line, rationality went out the window. It wasn't rare for a situation to descend into madness, where everyone was both an aggrieved victim and a heinous perpetrator. Kings killed their children, and princes led rebellions. When power and money were involved, human beings were creatures that wouldn't even recognize their own parents.
"So?" Rickert asked, sensing something was off.
"Leave this place to the pig. The Master wants to see you guys. That's the message I came to deliver." The "pig" Sandy referred to was Reinhardt, the leader of the Widowmaker Clan. Perhaps living as simply and recklessly as he did was the wisest choice.
"How are things over there? They wouldn't tell me when I visited before," Volka asked.
"At first, they planned to split the region into three parts, but that Ice guy performed way better than expected. So they considered dividing it in two. Then they heard things wrapped up here, too. Now they're thinking if Ricky comes along, they might just be able to swallow the whole thing. Well, that's how it looks to me. I don't know high command's exact thoughts."
"…They shouldn't do that," Rickert muttered to himself after listening to Sandy.
"Hmm?"
"That's not how you wage war. You set a precise goal, and once you achieve it, you end it cleanly. Hesitating and dragging things out, thinking 'Maybe we can do a bit more' or 'This isn't quite enough'—that's how you lose even what you started with." Rickert had seen plenty of operations ruined by that exact complacent mindset in his past life.
"I don't like it either, but what choice do we have? We're not the ones making the decisions. Guilds were never trustworthy to begin with. Whenever you expect something from them, they only bring disappointment. The only thing you can rely on is your clan. That's how everyone survives. Still, since your case is so unprecedented, Ricky, I can't be sure."
"…" Knowing there was no point arguing with Sandy, Rickert held his tongue.
Throughout history, many had found trouble by achieving too much. To those in power, an incompetent subordinate was a problem, but an overly competent one was a threat. Since Rickert had never met the Guild Master, he didn't know what kind of person he was, nor could he guess how things would unfold.
Still, he wasn't entirely without a safety net. He had been told to reach out if he ever ran into trouble. He could always rely on that if push came to shove, right?
At any rate, Rickert shared a meal with Sandy, informed Reinhardt of their departure, and left the Kaits Highlands with the others.
Their destination was Siegfringer—the very place he, Boribori, and the Nameless had been active last winter.