Chapter 65
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 65
Rickert, Boribori, and Marie journeyed through fields, valleys, and the Kaits region. Spring had been in full bloom when they first set out, but now, the weather was growing muggy with the approach of summer.
Although the north enjoyed relatively stable temperatures year-round, that didn't mean its summers weren't hot or its winters weren't cold.
The wind carried a rich scent of grass. Boribori sat in a field of flowers, eyes closed and head tilted up as he sniffed the air. He was trying to identify each plant hidden within the medley of scents.
"Hmm... This is marigold, and this is... cornflower. This smells like Ricky, and this one... is it gentian?"
While Boribori was occupied, a man and a woman faced off in another part of the field. It was Rickert and Marie.
They appeared to be sparring, but the live blades in their hands, not practice swords, made the scene a dangerous one.
Marie stood with her knees bent, her sword, Ricky, hanging loosely at her side. Rickert had shifted his center of gravity slightly back, poised to slash diagonally upward from his lower left.
A cool breeze carrying a sweet fragrance blew between them, but it did nothing more than gently ruffle their hair. Neither the wind nor the scent could break their locked gaze.
When one is deeply focused, it’s easy to lose track of time. It was unclear how long they had been facing off when Marie suddenly took a bold step forward, stopping right at the edge of his range.
Had she stepped even a fraction closer, Rickert would have countered. But since she remained just outside his reach, he didn’t react. His ability to calculate the distance so precisely and remain perfectly still was impressive.
Like someone pausing at the water's surface before holding their breath and slowly submerging, Marie began to slip into Rickert's range—incredibly slowly, inch by inch. As she crossed the threshold, a tingling sensation coursed through her body.
Her heart pounded, but her mind remained unshaken. Her discipline, too, was remarkable.
It was a highly unusual approach, a far cry from throwing feints or rushing in to attack. Though she was the one advancing, her true goal was to draw out her opponent's strike and counter it. With Marie playing it this way, the sparring match felt like a game of chicken, each daring the other to show their hand first.
The distance between them shrank further. In a real life-or-death battle, this would have been incredibly reckless.
From this point on, controlling one's mind was paramount. One could not be impatient, nor could one be complacent. Like the mirror-like surface of a lake, one had to react with absolute precision to the slightest ripple.
Rickert and Marie seemed to be waiting for each other to strike, and before they knew it, the distance between them had closed to a mere three paces.
I have to swing now. Any later, and I won't even be able to counter. Marie's own anxiety sent a ripple through her mirror-like mind. She hesitated for a split second.
In that instant, Rickert blurred, taking a large step to his right. Being no amateur herself, Marie swung her sword like lightning in a direction that would simultaneously block Rickert's path and strike him.
Whoosh!
With a sharp swish, a few blades of grass were sheared away. Rickert twisted his upper body further to the right, narrowly evading the strike before stepping in close. He grabbed Marie's sword hand, his grip firm on her wrist.
Marie channeled her mana to resist, but Rickert knew how to use an opponent's strength against them. In truth, he didn't even need to go that far; he simply swept her leg, bringing her down.
As her supporting leg was kicked out from under her, Marie’s legs flew up and her body tilted backward. But Rickert caught her, supporting her back.
Amusingly, the resulting pose resembled a dance move, bringing their faces close together.
In that moment, Marie's heart skipped a beat for an entirely different reason. Any desire to continue the fight vanished.
"You're too close," Rickert said with a smile.
"A-Aren't you the one who's too close?"
"Hmm? Ah, I didn't mean it that way."
Rickert helped her back up and sheathed his sword. Marie adjusted her clothes, composing herself.
"I think you've improved a lot," Rickert said. "But in the end, it's all about the mind. You did well, but you wavered at the very end."
He had accurately read the impatience and anxiety that had shaken Marie's composure. In truth, he could have subdued her much earlier if he had wanted to; this had been more of a test.
"If someone can control their mind to that extent, they might not even be human."
"Perhaps."
"Anyway... will I really never be able to beat you before you graduate?"
Rickert's graduation was indeed fast approaching—two or three months at the earliest, five months at the latest.
"Who knows? Isn't that up to you, Marie?"
"But if I actually beat you, how would you feel?"
"I don't think I'd feel much of anything."
"Why? No frustration? No competitive drive?"
"A real fight is a matter of life and death. There's no room for competitive pride. Sparring just mimics a real fight, so I don't think it helps all that much. It's only when you feel like you're about to die that you truly look back at who you are."
Rickert spoke as he gazed out over the fields. Green meadows stretched to the horizon, blanketed in a wild profusion of red, yellow, and white flowers. Butterflies and bees fluttered above the grass and blossoms swaying gently in the breeze. Though the air was muggy, the breeze kept it from feeling too hot.
"But I..."
"Hmm?"
Marie looked as if she had something to say, but she hesitated, unable to bring herself to speak.
She had a mission. She had to either defeat Rickert or seduce him into marriage. Only by achieving one of those could she gain true freedom. Defeating Rickert seemed impossible, which left winning his heart as her only realistic chance.
However, Marie knew better than anyone that Rickert was a man who did not believe in love.
Looking deeper, she felt a sense of shame. Whether it was defeating Rickert or winning his heart, wasn't it all just a means to secure her own freedom? If so, did she have to abandon her desire for that freedom?
It was far too heavy a burden for a young girl to bear.
"Is the sparring over?" Boribori asked, having finished his flower-sniffing.
Rickert, his sword slung over his shoulder on top of his Red Cloak, spoke to Marie.
"Let's go."
Marie let out a deep sigh and prepared to move.
Suddenly, Boribori approached Marie and sniffed her.
"What is it?"
"Hmm, Marie smells like gentian. Strange. I was confused for a second."
Rickert and Marie let out dry chuckles at his absurdity.
Beringen was just ahead. Sparring and admiring the fields at the start of summer were all well and good, but resting at home was always best.
Beringen was divided into districts by the cardinal directions. The Northern District was home to Norse settlers; the Western District was inhabited by locals who had lived there for generations; the Eastern District was populated by merchants and craftsmen from the Academy; and the Southern District was where travelers and outsiders stayed.
One might expect them to have integrated after all this time, but they hadn't. Living apart while respecting each other was one way of coexisting, and that was just how things were. They weren't enemies, but if someone spoke or acted carelessly in another district, they could easily find themselves in deep trouble.
Rickert, Boribori, and Marie were passing through the Southern District when they spotted some people who looked like they were about to find that trouble.
"Hey, you piece of shit! If you're drunk, go the fuck to sleep or drop dead. Why the hell are you starting shit?"
The speaker was a heavily built man in dirt-stained clothes with rolled-up sleeves—likely the tavern keeper. The problem was the large kitchen knife gripped in his hand.
His opponents were three young men. One wore a dark blue jacket, while the other two had taken theirs off, wearing only white shirts.
"When did I start shit?! I just suggested we get some fresh air!"
"You think we're scared just because you've got a knife?!"
"Does the tavern maid belong to you?! Are you her pimp?! What's wrong with talking to her?!"
They were like wild dogs barking at a large beast. The sight was not a pleasant one. It seemed the trouble was over a waitress. No matter where you went, money and women were always driving men to their graves.
In any case, the burly man possessed a weapon far more powerful than a kitchen knife to end the argument.
"She's my wife, you bastards!"
At those words, the Academy students, who had been barking so loudly, suddenly fell silent. But after exchanging glances, they began muttering nonsense to save face.
"She looked pretty young, though."
"Did he kidnap her?"
"He's definitely forcing her to stay with him."
"Yeah. It doesn't make sense otherwise."
They seemed to be looking for any excuse to deny his claim and pick another fight. However, residents of the Southern District were starting to gather, creeping closer. Some even held clubs.
This was exactly what it meant to get into serious trouble. If the locals swarmed them, they could easily end up dead. Yet, whether the students realized the danger or not, they prepared to lunge at the tavern keeper again.
That was when Rickert stepped in.
"Hey. Cut it out."
The crowd turned to look at him. Multiple pairs of eyes scanned him up and down, but when they saw Marie standing beside him, their eyes widened at her stunning beauty.
Ignoring their stares, Rickert gave his warning.
"You're going to get yourselves killed if you keep this up. Go back."
But the response was unexpected.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Seems like any random bastard wears a Red Cloak these days."
"Don't you see this jacket? We're students of the Grand Beringen Academy. There are two hundred of our comrades back at the Academy."
Grand Beringen what? Comrades? Rickert's face twisted as if he had chewed on a bug, utterly baffled.
To make matters worse, these students apparently didn't recognize him. Since he had been away for a few months, they were likely new recruits who had enrolled in his absence. But had the freshmen always been this arrogant?
"Get lost while I'm still being nice. Look around you."
At Rickert's warning, the students finally looked around. They saw people emerging from the alleys, gathering with a distinctly hostile air. Only then did fear strike them, panic flickering across their faces. Yet, they refused to let go of their pride.
"Hmph! I just remembered I have something to do."
"Y-Yeah. We have somewhere we need to be."
"Next time we come back, we're bringing our comrades, so you'd better be ready."
With that, they scrambled away. Rickert shook his head, wondering what was wrong with them, and apologized to the tavern keeper on their behalf.
"Sorry about them. I don't think they're bad kids, but I'll make sure to give them a proper talking-to."
"Hmm..."
In truth, there wasn't a single resident or tavern keeper in the area who didn't know Rickert. If anything, they were the ones who knew exactly how terrifying he could be. Fortunately, once the students retreated, the gathering crowd of locals dispersed as well.
"Is the guild war over?" the tavern keeper asked. They weren't close, but they knew each other by sight.
"They're negotiating a peace treaty."
"I heard about what happened in Kaits. Everyone's talking about it."
"I was just fighting for my life. By the way, what was all this about?"
"While you were gone, some crazy instigator named Kali seems to have become the boss. They don't extort money or threaten merchants like they used to, but they've been roaming around in packs, causing trouble everywhere. They've all gotten way too cocky."
Kali was the common nickname for Karlich. The locals used the term "boss" because they didn't understand what the Academy was, viewing it as some kind of armed gang. They weren't mercenaries, nor were they adventurers—just a pack of young punks. That was how they saw them. Thus, they referred to the student who seemed to be the leader as the "boss."
"I'm sorry. I'll look into it."
"Alright, thanks."
After apologizing and settling the matter, Rickert headed toward the Eastern District, where the guild building was located.
"What in the world is going on?" Boribori said, utterly dumbfounded.
Given that they didn't recognize Rickert, they were definitely freshmen. Back when Boribori had been a freshman, such behavior would have been unimaginable. In those days, they had just huddled in the Chicken Coop, walking on eggshells and getting beaten up.
"Well, seeing how they talk about 'comrades,' they certainly seem united," Marie remarked. She hadn't been at the Academy for long, but she had a general grasp of the atmosphere. The students usually stuck to their own small cliques and were highly individualistic, making the word "comrade" feel entirely foreign.
"Yeah, unity is great..." Rickert said with a sigh.
Starting with himself, the Academy was changing far too rapidly. And change always brought side effects. The uniforms he had bought for the students had given them a sense of pride and solidarity. Karlich had been at the forefront, egging them on. But when taken to extremes, it resulted in situations like this.
In less than two years, so much had changed, and the pace was only accelerating. It was happening so fast that even Rickert was struggling to keep up.
He could no longer tell which way was up.