Chapter 59
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 59
The north was mostly a flat plain, punctuated by the occasional rolling hill. "Mount Ern"—or Ehrenberg, as it was properly known—was one such feature.
It was too low to be called a mountain, more like a gentle rise in the land. The city streets spread out from its base, and the entire town was encircled by a sturdy stone wall.
Though the town itself was not particularly large, a wide river wrapped around its western side before flowing south. This was the Main River, the same one that flowed past the Imperial Capital of Nibelungen and through Rheinfurt. Merchant ships constantly drifted in and out of the docks.
The hill had been artificially terraced, with buildings nestled along each step. Perhaps because the town was famous for its Masons’ Guild, every structure looked exceptionally sturdy.
About halfway up the hill stood a peculiar building. It was shaped like a T, as if one structure had been laid horizontally and another placed vertically on top of it.
The first floor was built of stone—not neat, square bricks, but irregular blocks fitted together with seamless precision. The second and third floors featured exposed timber framing with neatly applied white plaster in between. The tiled roof rose to a sharp, triangular peak, punctuated by two chimneys. The ground floor had a back door, a side door, and a main entrance sheltered by an outer porch.
In the backyard stood a well and a single apple tree, and a small stable was attached to the side of the building. Inside, a donkey lazily chewed its fodder, staring blankly at the humans sweating and straining under the weight of heavy cargo. It seemed the cycle of work and rest was the same for man and beast alike.
The items the workers struggled to carry on their backs or hoist together were beds, tables, chairs, and wooden barrels.
“It’s tilted too far to the left. No, now it’s too high. Just a bit… yeah, there. I think that’s got it,” Rickert said, looking up.
Standing precariously on a chair, Volka was stretching his arms in an awkward posture to hold something in place. It was a sign. Carved into the wood was an eagle holding a violet in its beak—the emblem of the Ehrenberg branch of the Beringen Adventurers' Guild. The violet, of course, symbolized their core clan, Clan Viola.
“Fuck’s sake… I told you we should’ve just hung it with chains…”
“You’re the one who said you’d hate the squeaking whenever the wind blew,” Rickert retorted.
Volka grumbled but finished the job properly. He hammered flat iron nails into the wall, securing the sign firmly in place. Hoping this marked the start of a smooth journey, he drove in far more nails than necessary, making it absolutely immovable.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Once Rickert saw that the sign was secure, he turned and walked inside.
The moment he stepped through the door, he saw Marie and Boribori. Each was carrying a massive bed on their back, heading upstairs entirely on their own. The hired porters stared at them, dumbfounded. Since both of them could manipulate mana, activating their Mana Drive made them vastly stronger than any ordinary person.
Nearby, Delphi was vigorously scrubbing the floor—which she had already wiped down once—with a stiff, boar-bristle mop.
“Ricky, all the beds are inside. Can you help arrange the tables?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Rickert dragged the heavy wooden tables into position, the legs scraping loudly against the floorboards. He roughly aligned four of them in the main hall and placed a lower table next to the fireplace. After arranging the chairs, he poured a splash of kerosene onto the hearth and struck a flint, coaxing a flame to life.
A crackling fire always made a place feel cozier, so it was best to keep one lit. The scent of burning wood drifted to his nose, bringing a strange sense of comfort.
Looking around, Rickert saw that the dust had been cleared and the place was mostly in order. He sat down on a chair by the hearth.
Before long, Ice came downstairs with his sleeves rolled up, followed closely by Marie and Boribori.
“Delphi, take a break,” Ice said gently. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”
“I have to do it right the first time,” Delphi replied with a bright smile. “Once people start coming, we’ll be too busy to even think about cleaning.”
Now that this place was essentially their home, she didn’t seem to feel any exhaustion at all. Every corner of the building, every minor detail, bore the touch of their hands. She knew that, in time, all of this would become a cherished memory.
Ice had regained the luster in his hair and put on some weight, looking much healthier than before. Though he was tall and broad-shouldered, he had never possessed a bulky frame; while he still looked lean, he was in good shape.
Even with mana, the physical labor took its toll. Boribori and Marie cracked their stiff necks from side to side, then took turns kneading each other’s shoulders.
Finally, Volka came inside after paying off the hired hands. He slumped into a chair at one of the tables, threw his head back, and groaned dramatically.
“Ugh, I’m exhausted. Let’s close up shop and rest for the day.”
“We’re not running a shop, Volka,” Marie reminded him.
This wasn’t a tavern or an inn meant to sell food, alcohol, and lodging to the public. It was a guild branch—a place to receive requests, assign missions, and provide shelter and supplies to adventurers.
“Whatever, whatever.”
“By the way, who’s going to cook?” Rickert asked. “We’ll need to serve food when people start showing up.”
“For now, can’t we just throw whatever we have into a pot of boiling water?” Boribori suggested.
“We should probably hire some staff, too,” Marie added.
“Do we even have the money for that? How much do we have left?” Rickert wondered.
Their voices overlapped as they all chimed in at once, and Volka could barely keep track of who was saying what.
“Not a single copper. We’re officially broke,” Volka announced without even lifting his head from the back of the chair. After presenting gifts to the Count, purchasing the building, and buying beds, tables, groceries, and everything else, they were truly cleaned out.
“Then what happens if someone brings in a wanted criminal’s head?” Boribori asked. “How are we supposed to pay out the bounty?”
Even if a bounty hunter wasn’t affiliated with the Beringen Guild, they were legally obligated to pay the reward if someone brought in a wanted criminal, dead or alive.
“Oh, right.”
Volka sat up as if the realization had just dawned on him. He hurried to his room on the ground floor, rummaged through his bag, and emerged with a thick stack of papers. He began plastering them all over the wall. The faces of wanted criminals, each looking more sinister and unsavory than the last, now lined the interior. The bounties ranged from as high as fifty gold coins to as low as five silver.
Once he finished, he turned back to his friends.
“Well, time to start earning some coin.”
“Can’t we just hunt those guys down ourselves?” Boribori suggested.
“We can’t afford to travel far right now,” Rickert said, shaking his head. While killing them wouldn’t be difficult, tracking them down would take too much time.
“I can handle it on my own,” Ice offered. He had been listening quietly, clearly feeling the need to contribute.
“There’s no need for that,” Rickert said, shaking his head again. “We need to land a big job. We’ve graduated from hunting small fry like these.”
It might have sounded arrogant, but he didn’t mean it that way. Since they were short on time and couldn’t travel far, their best bet was to find a high-paying job close to home.
“A big job?”
“Yeah. Private commissions from wealthy clients. After we took down the Ehrenberg Quintet, we had enough to outfit all the Academy kids and still had coin to spare.”
The uniforms were to be made of fabric dyed with precious lapis lazuli. Though they weren’t finished yet, the bounty had been large enough to cover outfits for over two hundred children with money left over.
“The Ehrenberg Quintet was a bit much, though…” Surprisingly, it was Boribori who grimaced, looking thoroughly intimidated.
He had accumulated a decent amount of combat experience by now. Looking back with that experience in mind, he realized that defeating the Ehrenberg Quintet had been nothing short of a miracle. They had been incredibly lucky. The Quintet had split up, allowing them to eliminate the first two and defeat the rest piecemeal. Then, the Nameless had stepped in to kill one of the remaining enemies and throw the other two into disarray. That was the only reason they had succeeded.
What if the tables had been turned? If they had been the ones defending, and the Ehrenberg Quintet had launched a coordinated assault, would they have survived? The Quintet had clear weaknesses, but their strengths were monstrous. If all five had fought together as a cohesive unit—a toad-like woman immune to blades, a giant of a man, a necromancer, a Swordmaster, and the Ghost Sword—their combined power would have been unfathomable.
Even if time were wound back, Boribori knew he would make the same choice to fight. Still, the memory of those monsters made him shudder.
“We don’t need to go that far, but there are plenty of wealthy people around,” Rickert said. “First, let’s visit the other guilds to introduce ourselves. Why sit around waiting for work to fall into our laps? We can go out and find it. And in my opinion, we need to secure the docks. Or at least figure out how they operate.”
Rickert cut straight to the heart of the matter. Anyone could see that Ehrenberg was a town that lived and breathed trade. Listening to him speak had a way of clearing the fog and bringing everything into sharp focus.
Volka, on the other hand, simply figured they wouldn’t starve and that things would work out somehow.
As Rickert and his friends chatted about their future plans, the front door opened and someone stepped inside.
“Excuse me.”
The members of Clan Viola fell silent and turned to look at the newcomer.
He was a young man wearing a hat adorned with a single hawk feather. He wore a neatly embroidered tunic draped with a loose, shawl-like cloak, and his boots were pristine, without a speck of dust.
He cleared his throat and spoke in a ringing voice.
“Ahem, ahem. Greetings, brave adventurers. I am Harrison, a retainer of the Ehrenberg Trading Company. I am a lover of literature and poetry, dedicating myself to weaving the world’s many tales into song. Though I often wander with the sky as my roof and the bare earth as my bed, is it not true that romance is born of hardship? While gazing at the stars by night and the clouds by day in search of poetic inspiration, I caught wind that the young hero of the red cloak had arrived. Thus, I have taken the liberty of calling upon you. If you would grant us the honor of hosting a banquet in your name at our trading company, it would be a matter of profound joy.”
Rickert and his friends simply stared at him in silence. An awkward hush filled the room. What was his name again? Ah, right, Harrison. To stretch such a simple message into so many useless words was a talent in its own right. It took them a moment to sift through the flowery language and figure out who he was and what he actually wanted.
Regardless, Rickert accepted immediately. He had been planning to make some rounds anyway.
“Sure. I’ll go.”
“How wonderfully decisive. Might you be…?”
“Yes, I’m Ricky. The one with the red cloak. Ricky of Clan Viola, Beringen Adventurers’ Guild.”
When Rickert introduced himself, the self-proclaimed bard Harrison studied him intently, clearly trying not to let his gaze seem rude. Once his inspection was complete, he stepped forward with measured grace, reached into his tunic, and pulled out an envelope. Even as he offered it, he bowed deeply and slid one foot back in an excessively theatrical gesture.
It was a sealed envelope. Breaking the red wax seal, Rickert found a standard invitation addressed to “The Honorable…” and so on. The banquet wasn’t being thrown specifically for him; it was likely a regular gathering they held, and they had simply extended an invitation out of curiosity now that a local celebrity had arrived.
“Thank you. You may go, Harrison.”
“The honor was entirely mine. It would be an even greater privilege if you would allow the other distinguished guests to gaze upon the hero’s countenance tonight.”
With a final bow, Harrison turned and departed.
“Are people usually… that formal?” Volka asked, casting a sideways glance at Rickert, curious for his take given his noble background.
“I’ve only heard stories. It’s my first time seeing it in person, too. What about you, Marie?”
“Me? Why are you asking me?”
“Have you ever seen that kind of etiquette before?”
“How should I know…?” Marie feigned ignorance, but everyone except Delphi and Ice had already caught on to her true background to some degree.
“Do you want to go with me tonight?” Rickert asked.
“Where?”
“To the banquet.”
“I don’t have a dress to wear.”
“So what? You’re beautiful anyway.”
“A-am I?”
“Of course. Let’s go. Volka and Delphi can watch the guild, and Ice and Bori can go check out the docks. That divides us up perfectly.”
Boribori blinked in surprise and looked at Ice, who looked back at him. There was a stark height difference between them even when sitting, leaving Boribori to crane his neck up. When Boribori offered a goofy grin, Ice let out a quiet chuckle. Watching them, Marie felt a sudden urge to spar with Ice. After all, he had been the top-ranked student at the Academy before Rickert, and Rickert had once compared her skills to his.
But now was not the time. She resolved to bring it up when the opportunity arose.
In any case, Boribori and Ice headed out first. Delphi then dragged Marie out to buy a dress, scraping together what little coin they had left. It was a simple blue dress, the kind a country girl might wear, but after some quick alterations to fit her frame, it looked remarkably neat and elegant.
Rickert simply changed into his cleanest spare clothes, strapped a single dagger to his waist for self-defense, and stepped outside.
“We’ll be back.”
“Yeah, have fun,” Volka called out. “No need to bow and scrape to them, alright?”
“You know I’m not built for that,” Rickert replied with a chuckle.
Then, he and Marie set off into the evening streets.
With only faint glimmers of light escaping from windows, the town at dusk was swallowed by shadow. As Rickert walked slightly ahead, Marie caught up and took his hand.
Rickert was startled for a second, but he could feel a fragile courage in the slight trembling of her fingers. A pang of guilt pricked his chest. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before relaxing his grip, a silent message: There’s no need to be embarrassed. Don’t be nervous.
They walked hand-in-hand, swinging their arms back and forth. The simple, childish gesture brought a natural smile to their faces. In that moment, they were just a boy and a girl, swept up in the magic of the night.
Rickert and Marie followed the sloping path down toward the river. A grand mansion stood a short distance from the docks, its windows blazing with brilliant light even from afar.
When they arrived, they found several carriages parked in the courtyard, which was illuminated by crackling bonfires. These were not rugged cargo wagons but luxurious passenger carriages—incredibly expensive vehicles, as crafting their wheel axles required highly specialized craftsmanship.
“Do you know how to drink?” Rickert asked.
“No.”
“Me neither. But it might be a bit dry if we only talk about business, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. Who’s hosting this, anyway?”
“No idea. It’s the trading company, so probably some merchant noble. We’ll find out when we get inside, right?”
Marie laughed at his carefree attitude. He could easily find out by just pulling out the invitation, but he didn’t seem to care.
“Dummy.”
Rickert just grinned.
In truth, they had no reason to be intimidated. Both were of genuine, highborn nobility, possessing bloodlines that far eclipsed any mere merchant. One could trace his lineage back to royalty and was the descendant of a legendary hero. The other carried the blood of the reigning Emperor. Even if she was an acknowledged illegitimate daughter, a daughter was still a daughter.
At the mansion’s entrance, a guard was checking invitations. When Rickert presented theirs, the guard tilted his head, looking back and forth between Rickert and the parchment.
“A bit younger than you expected, right?” Rickert asked.
“Pardon?”
“May we go in?”
“Ah… yes, of course.” For some reason, the guard’s response was hesitant and bewildered.
Rickert stepped into the mansion with Marie. From the grand central hall to the long corridors, hundreds of candles cast a brilliant, warm glow. Pure beeswax candles were incredibly expensive, and the sheer volume of them on display was a testament to the host’s immense wealth.
Drawn by the melodies of lutes and flutes mingled with laughter and chatter, they followed a corridor until it opened into a massive hall. Some guests were seated while others stood, mingling and enjoying the banquet in a relaxed atmosphere. Surprisingly, there were no adults in sight; everyone present was around Rickert’s age.
Rickert had been growing rapidly, and he was now tall and robust for his age. Marie was nearly as tall as him, so when the striking pair entered the hall, they naturally drew a few glances.
There were about thirty guests in total, and while it wasn't as loud as a marketplace, the room hummed with lively energy.
Yet, the moment the two newcomers stepped fully into the room, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as if on cue. Every eye locked onto Rickert and Marie.
It didn’t take long to realize why they were staring. The contrast in their attire was stark. The other youths wore garments lavishly embroidered with gold and silver thread by master tailors, adorned with glittering, gem-encrusted jewelry.
By contrast, Rickert and Marie didn’t just look simple—they looked downright shabby. With no rings, necklaces, or earrings to speak of, they were the very definition of plain.
Soon, condescending sneers and hushed whispers rippled through the crowd. A few of the remarks drifted clearly to their ears.
“What are these filthy beggars doing here…?”