Chapter 56
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 56
Siegfringer was a region in the north-central part of the Empire, a land ruled by the House of Duke Siegfringer.
The region contained one large city and several small-to-medium-sized towns. Lunenberg was one of four such smaller towns where Rickert and Boribori had primarily operated alongside the Nameless. Over the past winter, they had avenged the Nameless in those very places, subjugating various thieves' guilds and criminal organizations in the process.
Thus, even before their recent battle in the Kaits Highlands, Rickert and Boribori were already quite famous throughout the Siegfringer region.
Here, they were known as the Heroes of Siegfringer, or more commonly, the Siegfringer Trio: Ricky the Red Cloak, Boribori the Dismemberer, and Nameless X.
As Rickert followed Sandy past one of the small towns, a sense of familiarity washed over him, bringing back memories of the winter he had spent with the Nameless. Yet it wasn't a beautiful memory so much as a bittersweet and distant one.
The Nameless was no longer here. Before he knew it, winter had passed, and now even spring was drawing to a close.
The memory of walking this same path with him seemed to shimmer before his eyes. Boribori had smiled so often back then, despite the freezing cold. Now, the air itself was warm.
Rickert didn’t feel empty or depressed. He believed that white mourning clothes, not black, were more fitting for the Nameless. He had been saved, after all. There was no need to be sad. That was Rickert’s conviction, and Boribori felt the same.
Yet here he was, in a new season and with new people, passing through a place steeped in the memories of last winter. The past wasn't being erased or covered over; new memories were simply being layered on top of it, one by one.
Of course, whether the events to come would become fond memories or experiences he’d rather forget remained to be seen.
“Ricky.”
Snapped out of his thoughts by Marie’s voice, Rickert turned to look at her. She shyly held something out to him. On her palm lay a few bright red wild raspberries.
“Thanks.”
Rickert picked one up and popped it into his mouth. The bumpy little beads burst, spreading a sweet and sour flavor across his tongue.
Sensing something was off, he glanced back to find Volka, Delphi, and Boribori staring intently at him and Marie. They put her up to this.
“Sigh… You guys, seriously.”
“We were just watching,” Volka said.
“Sure you were.”
Volka acted as if it were nothing, but anyone could see they were intensely interested in whatever was happening between Rickert and Marie.
Sandy, who had been walking nearby and observing the entire exchange, spoke up with a pitying sigh.
“That’s not how you win a man’s heart. Why does it feel like the roles are reversed with you two?”
“How do you win it, then?” Delphi asked.
“You have to seduce him. Ricky is still young; he doesn’t know anything yet. Time will take care of it, so don’t be impatient. That will only make a man run farther away. Seduce him when he’s got a proper patch of hair down there. He’ll fall for you in no time.”
Whether she was shameless or simply didn’t care who heard, Sandy rattled on nonchalantly right in front of the people involved.
“Ugh…” Rickert groaned inwardly.
To his surprise, however, Marie seemed to be taking the advice to heart. When he’s got a proper patch of hair down there…
Still, she held out the raspberries again, urging him to eat more.
Rickert felt incredibly embarrassed, but he didn’t refuse them. As awkward as it was, he didn’t want to trample on the young girl’s pure feelings. He wasn’t so cold-hearted that he could draw a sharp line and end things decisively. Contrary to Sandy’s opinion, he could only hope that Marie would naturally move on as time passed.
“But Ricky,” Sandy called out.
“Yeah?”
“A woman’s courage vanishes after her first love. So treat her with care. Not that I can tell you how to feel, of course.”
Though they were only six or seven years apart, Sandy offered advice like a seasoned elder.
“I get it, but is this really something you should say right in front of her?”
“Why not? We never know when we’re going to die.”
“…Fair point.”
He recalled his first encounter with Sandy’s clan two years ago. His first impression of adventurers was that they were insular, yet at the same time, remarkably open and honest. This contradictory nature stemmed from the underlying reality that they could die at any moment. They were insular because they had to guard against others, but they were open and honest because there might not be a next time if they didn’t act now.
Was Marie’s confession born from the same sentiment? Perhaps it had been driven by the anxiety and fear that it might be her last chance, but that didn’t mean she had fabricated her feelings or shown a false heart.
Marie’s feelings were pure. Rickert knew this better than anyone. That was why, even if he couldn’t accept them, he couldn’t bring himself to crush them either.
“I won’t say I’m sorry. Thank you.”
“…Yeah. But, you know.”
“What?”
“That won’t change, right?”
“What won’t?”
“What you said about not believing in love. If that’s true, it means you can’t love any other girl either, right?”
For a split second, Rickert felt that something had gone terribly wrong. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Yet, Marie’s eyes still looked incredibly pure, which only made it more terrifying.
“R-Right…”
“I’ll believe you.”
Had the word “believe” always been this terrifying? Rickert couldn’t help but feel he had gotten himself into a real mess. Whether in religion or love, a certain madness was inherent in belief. The sweet scent of wild raspberries still lingered in his mouth, but he could no longer enjoy it.
Whether they knew what he was thinking or not, his friends watched with warm, pleased smiles. These guys are all insane.
Whether it was the nature of the times or just his friends, they seemed to think that as long as they could stitch the two of them together—even by force—it would all work out.
Rickert closed his eyes. Just as he couldn’t accept Marie’s feelings, he couldn’t tell her to stop liking him, either. I’ll just have to bear it. What else can I do?
In any case, the group followed Sandy into the forest on the outskirts of town.
After about an hour of walking, they heard the sound of trickling water. Around the same time, they reached a clearing with a cabin.
Several adventurers were scattered around it. Among them were a few familiar faces, though he didn’t know their names—people he had seen often at the guild building down the hill. Some acknowledged him with a light touch of their hats or a raised hand. Rickert greeted them back with a nod.
Sandy walked over to a woman with short black hair who was squatting beside the cabin. Rickert and his friends kept their distance, watching.
The squatting woman stood up. She wore black clothes that, while not skin-tight, still traced the contours of her body. A muffler covered the lower half of her face. After listening to Sandy for a moment, the woman walked over to Rickert’s group.
She pointed at Volka and Rickert. “You and you. Follow me.”
The woman in black led them away. It seemed the Guild Master wasn’t in the cabin.
As they followed her, the sound of trickling water grew louder. Soon, they reached a clear brook flowing through the forest. Near the brook stood three people: two standing, one sitting on a folding chair. They appeared to be cooking something over a fire, and a mouth-watering aroma wafted toward Rickert.
The woman beckoned them closer. As Rickert and Volka approached, the seated man turned to look at them. To their surprise, it was Dunkel.
“Huh? What? Dunkel?”
“Hahaha, indeed. I didn’t mean to deceive you. But doesn’t our line of work share a few similarities with a thieves’ guild?” Dunkel said with a laugh. The Guild Master of the Beringen Guild was none other than Dunkel.
“I’m a bit surprised, but thinking about it, it’s not that shocking,” Rickert said, accepting the revelation rather calmly.
Volka, on the other hand, just stared with wide eyes. He had known Dunkel longer than Rickert had and never would have imagined this in his wildest dreams.
“First, eat some of this. It’s a delicacy.”
Dunkel ladled a bubbling red stew from a pot onto two trays. The ingredients were freshwater crawfish, corn, and various fruits. He sliced a lemon in half with a dagger and squeezed the juice over both servings.
“Here, watch. You peel and eat it like this.”
Dunkel demonstrated by peeling a crawfish himself. He twisted off the head, peeled back the first segment of the shell, and pinched the end of the tail to pop the meat right out.
Though somewhat bewildered, Rickert and Volka sat on the gravel and began peeling the crawfish, their hands quickly becoming covered in sauce.
When they took a bite of the meat, it was absolutely exquisite. This was a proper dish, generously seasoned with expensive spices—a flavor neither of them had ever tasted. To think something like this existed in the world!
Having spent his entire past life eating nothing but dry rations, salty cured meat, jerky, and bland gruel, Rickert’s eyes widened in sheer shock.
Dunkel watched with a pleased smile as they devoured a couple of crawfish. He washed his hands with water poured from a kettle by an assistant, wiped them with a towel, and spoke.
“I knew things would go well if you joined the fight, Ricky.”
Rickert paused his frantic eating, thought for a moment, and replied, “But I feel like I was used somehow.”
“You weren’t used. It’s not like I ordered Volka, your clan leader, to do anything. I merely dropped a hint that the Academy students might be mobilized.”
“Hmm… Sounds an awful lot like a devil’s whisper.”
“Hahaha, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So, why did you want to see us?”
“Alright. Let’s cut to the chase. Is there something you want?” Dunkel asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. From the look in his eyes, he already knew exactly what they wanted.
Rickert glanced at Volka, the clan leader.
“A branch head position,” Volka said. “We’d like a branch with farmland, but even if it doesn’t have any, that’s fine. As long as there’s land we can cultivate.”
“Right, right. You should prepare for retirement while you’re still young. It’s too late once you’re old.”
“Are you going to make him a branch head?” Rickert asked.
“Do I really have a choice?”
“You’re the Guild Master.”
“I know you’re a noble, and I know the old man has your back. So no, I don’t have the luxury of a veto.”
“N-Noble? What are you talking about?” Volka turned to Rickert, his eyes widening once again. Just like Dunkel, Rickert had also been hiding his identity.
Rickert gave an awkward smile. “There’s nothing special about being a noble. I had to leave my family anyway. My real name is Rickert. Rickert von Caldebern.”
“My god… It sounds like a foreign language.”
“Everyone says that.”
“Who else knows besides me?”
“Sandy and Bori.”
“But did you really have to keep it a secret?”
“If I hadn’t, do you think we could have become friends?”
“Hmm… True. If I’d known you were a noble, I wouldn’t have dared pick a fight with you in the first place.”
“How dare you. Watch your tongue, peasant.”
“…?”
“Just kidding.”
Rickert and Volka grinned at each other. Come to think of it, his relationship with Volka was quite amusing. At first, Rickert had just beaten him up; he never expected they would become close. But he had been drawn to Volka’s care for the other students, and after going through various trials together, they had formed a clan—which was just another word for family.
“Anyway, does this make him a branch head?” Rickert asked, looking at Dunkel.
“Yes. But nothing in this world comes for free. Whether it’s friends, family, or money, it only truly becomes yours when you have the strength to protect it.”
Rickert quietly pondered the meaning of his words. Being naturally sharp, he quickly grasped the implication.
“You’re going to give us a branch in a volatile area, one destabilized by war.”
“Exactly. If you protect it, it’s yours. What I do is simple: I align the desires of adventurers and the dreams of clans with our own objectives.”
“And if they can’t be aligned?”
Dunkel merely offered an enigmatic smile. He eliminates or expels them, Rickert thought.
While Rickert might be superior in fighting prowess, Dunkel was undoubtedly better at managing an organization and ruling people. He had to admit that.
“How is Ice doing?” Volka asked. His tray was now piled high with crawfish shells and empty corn cobs.
Dunkel took the tray, dumped the scraps onto the ground, ladled a fresh helping onto it, and said, “It’s best not to get too close to him. Someday, his path will diverge from both the guild’s and yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since I’ve already revealed my identity, I might as well tell you. Ice is from the Order of Condemnation. He’s not just a simple believer; he holds a significant position within the Order. He had his own agenda from the moment he entered the Academy. We only left him alone because he was useful, but in the end, he’s someone who will choose the Order.”
“What?!” Volka seemed to have a lot to be surprised about today. His eyes widened yet again.
But this time, Rickert was also quite shocked. He knew Ice was a somewhat cultish pagan, but he hadn’t expected him to be such a fanatical follower. If he was that deeply involved, he could genuinely face a heresy trial.
“Didn’t you know? He’s such an amateur about it; it’s plain as day. That guy is absolutely obsessed with becoming a Swordmaster for the sake of the Order. That’s why he’s trying to become a Special-Grade. But that’s not for me to judge. It’s a matter for the elders.”
“Who are the elders? Are there more than the ones I know?” Rickert asked.
At his question, Dunkel merely smiled again. Whenever he chose not to answer, he seemed to fall back on that silent smile.
“I’ve said all I need to. You might run into Ice here and there. I’m not the type to tell people what to do. Figure it out yourselves.”
Dunkel stood up, brushing himself off. He seemed to be heading somewhere, but he left Rickert with one last piece of advice.
“Ricky, the Nine Swords of the Empire are like champions of a jousting tournament. There are always challengers, and there’s no guarantee they’ll win the next match. If you get knocked off by a lance, even a champion will be seriously injured or die. Just like how you killed Steiner.”
“Ah, that reminds me. The Ehrenberg Quintet. I heard the Emperor was behind them. Is that true?”
Thinking, this kid still doesn’t listen to a word I say, Dunkel let out a dry, half-dumbfounded chuckle.
“They’re like prostitutes. They don’t pick and choose their clients. They were walking a fine line, and while those above were still toying with their swords, debating whether to kill them or not, you went ahead and did it. You certainly made things easier for a lot of people. I’m off. See you next time. Take care of yourself. Sally will tell you about the branch.”
Dunkel walked away across the gravel with his entourage. Only the woman named Sally, who had guided them here, remained and approached the two.
“Are you going to eat all of that?” Sally asked, pointing at the pot.
“Pardon?”
“I asked if you’re going to eat all of it.”
“No, I’m good. What about you, Ricky?” Volka asked.
“Me too.”
At that, Sally sat down by the pot and used the ladle to scoop the food onto her own tray. She must have really wanted to eat it. Well, the smell is incredible.
The crawfish dish was undoubtedly delicious, but perhaps because of the backroom dealings he had just been privy to, Rickert was left with a bitter aftertaste.
It felt as though he was being played like a puppet without even realizing it. Still, they had gotten what they wanted, so was that enough? He wasn’t sure.
In any case, the thought of Ice left him with complicated feelings. The Order of Condemnation…
The words Ice had once spoken back in Griffinswald echoed in his ears.
“Even you can’t save me. Just let me die…”