Chapter 67
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67
It was evening. The moon, wrapped in a cloak of clouds, made the night unusually dark.
The Beringen Guild building was silent. Despite being packed with so many people, it felt as though the drop of a pin would echo through the hall.
They were boys and girls between the ages of twelve and sixteen. Their physical development varied wildly; some looked impossibly young, while others were practically full-grown adults.
This diverse crowd of students stared up at Rickert, who stood on the platform.
Rickert met their countless gazes calmly, his eyes sweeping slowly over them as if trying to make contact with every single one.
To them, he was a living legend. Each piece of news about his exploits in the outside world filled them with pride.
The genius among geniuses, a Hero of Siegfringer, the slayer of the Ehrenberg Quintet, one of the Nine Swords of the Empire, the Red Cloak, the Tiger of Kaits.
Countless epithets followed in the wake of his legend, and his fame was spreading beyond Beringen and the north to sweep across the entire Empire.
He was a figure of pride not just for these students, but for everyone living in Beringen and Siegfringer.
He hadn't earned such renown merely by being good with a sword. It was because of the character that lay beneath.
Rickert always led the charge when attacking and always guarded the rear when retreating. He took on the most dangerous roles, yet even in the midst of it all, he found time to rescue the powerless.
There was no one else like him. Even the rare, noble wandering knights only vanquished villains for a price, and in this day and age, people praised even that as magnificent. That was the kind of era they lived in.
Yet, that same great Rickert had just told them he was disappointed. The students were in shock, desperately wishing it was some kind of joke.
They felt suffocated by the silence they had created, but no one dared to break it. They believed that only Rickert held the right to speak.
The one who controls the silence controls the room. Rickert had initially felt pressured by the crowd’s silence, but now, he was the one directing it.
Without rushing, he looked at every student, from the far right to the far left, before finally opening his mouth.
“…Is running around in a gang, intimidating innocent people, and causing trouble what you call breaking your chains? Anyone care to answer?”
“…”
No one answered. Rickert pointed to a student he recognized.
“You. You answer me. Is that breaking the chains of oppression? Harassing a tavern maid, and then, when someone calls you out on it, gathering a mob to swarm them—is that breaking the chains of oppression?”
“…”
The student couldn’t possibly answer. He hung his head in shame.
“Why the silence? Then you. You answer. Can’t do it? Then you.”
Rickert singled out the students he knew one by one. Again, no one could answer. Uneducated as they were, they all knew that what they had done was wrong.
Silence fell once more. Though he hadn’t intended it, Rickert was naturally controlling the tempo of the room.
“I know you all grew up persecuted. You’ve probably suffered unspeakable cruelties at home. You must have wondered why you had to suffer like this, why you were even born if this was how it was going to be. But I don’t know the answer to that, either. Can someone tell me? Does anyone know?”
Without meaning to, Rickert kept posing questions. As a result, the students were no longer just looking up to him; they were actively thinking, gradually drawn into his words.
Their hearts stirred. These were children who had suffered more acutely than anyone, constantly agonizing over why life was so painful and why they had been born in the first place.
But Rickert hadn't said those things just to offer empty sympathy.
“That pain… it’s going to follow you and haunt you for the rest of your lives. But is giving in to it and living recklessly the right answer? At least you have a choice. Go to any city, and you’ll find countless bastards pickpocketing or begging on the streets. Yet the best you can do is run around in a gang, intimidating innocent people? If I were you, I’d be too embarrassed to lift my head.”
The term “bastards” didn’t just refer to those born to noble houses. In an era where contraception was virtually nonexistent, countless illegitimate children were born across all social classes—children of monks, products of affairs, or the results of fleeting flings with travelers. Such children were destined to roam the streets, let alone attend an academy. Once they grew older, they would join thieves’ guilds or form criminal gangs of their own.
Yet, surprisingly, Rickert didn't just yell at them. He was fundamentally different from Karlich, who only knew how to instigate. He made them reflect on their actions, pointing out exactly where they had gone wrong.
“No one in this world is perfect. That goes for me, too. Anyone can make a mistake. But when you do, you have to correct it. Isn’t the determination to correct your mistakes the very manifestation of the free will God granted us? Only then does the path to salvation open. That’s what I believe. Life is always a crossroads. Deep down, you all know it. There is a right path, and there is a wrong path. The right path is tedious and difficult. The wrong path is fun and easy. So, which path will you take?”
The wild, frenzied atmosphere from earlier had vanished, replaced by a solemn gravity. This wasn't manufactured or forced. It was the sincere truth, born from a pure heart, being passed from him to them.
“If walking the right path is hard, someone can help you along the way. That’s what a friend is. Someone who pulls you back when you stray onto the wrong path—that’s a friend. Someone who supports you when you’re lonely and struggling, someone who believes in you and stands by you—that’s a friend. I believe that’s what you should gain while attending this Academy, and that’s the kind of friend you should strive to become.”
The atmosphere shifted from solemn to deeply reverent. Rickert’s words slowly seeped into the students’ hearts, touching their consciences.
Then, very gently, he planted a seed of hope. Without grandiose language, he spoke with honest simplicity.
“Work honestly and train hard. Have fun when it’s time to play, and step up to help those in need. If you do that, then no matter how much your families persecuted you, your actions will be noble. Just like the great heroes of the past, that is what a pure heart and true courage look like. And that is how you fight without giving in; that is how you break the chains of oppression and persecution. Isn't it written on the Academy's gates? Discipline shall set you free. The original meaning might be different, but regardless, I believe in you. Because we are all students of Beringen Academy.”
Rickert calmly finished speaking and stepped down from the platform. Every eye in the room followed him.
For some reason, the students’ hearts softened, and tears began to flow. Perhaps the words they had truly wanted to hear all along weren’t instigations to riot, but words like these.
Clap… clap… clap…
Someone started clapping, and the sound gently rippled through the room. It wasn’t the loud, mindless applause of a crowd swept up in the moment. It was a sincere tribute, an expression of gratitude from each and every one of them.
Among them was Karlich. He was crying harder than anyone, clapping through his tears. Looking at him, it was hard to tell if he was incredibly naive or cunning.
But in truth, he was just young. He was smart but inexperienced, and he had become overly obsessed with Rickert's words that “everyone is equal at the Academy.”
“Ricky! I didn’t realize…!”
Boribori, weeping just like the other students, rushed forward and threw his arms around Rickert. Marie approached as well, joining the embrace. She hugged him tightly. Very tightly.
“What do you mean you didn’t realize?” Rickert chuckled, dumbfounded.
It wasn’t as if they had only known each other for a day or two, yet Boribori and Marie seemed deeply moved all over again. They, too, were children carrying deep emotional scars. Wounds inflicted by parents during childhood tended to last a lifetime.
Even amidst this, the heartfelt applause continued.
Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap…
And though Rickert had no idea why, Karlich also hugged him from behind, weeping. For once, given the emotional atmosphere, Rickert couldn't bring himself to tell him to get off.
The students had simply needed a proper adult. Someone who would guide them down the right path.
They had yearned for it more than anyone, yet they hadn’t even realized it themselves. They hadn’t known what the problem was, where their resentment stemmed from, or how to resolve their frustration and sense of injustice.
But the world was so harsh that finding a proper adult was nearly impossible. Fathers drank and beat them day in and day out; merchants cared for nothing but money; and nobles treated even their own children as mere tools for the family line.
If some transcendent being had reincarnated Rickert into this world, perhaps this was the reason. More than his monstrous swordsmanship, the world needed someone who knew how to cherish human hearts, who could be a source of strength, and who could lead others—sometimes gently, sometimes firmly. Perhaps that was the kind of person they truly needed.
However, as Rickert himself had said, he was not a perfect human being. He, too, was a soul in need of salvation, and he was currently walking that very path.
“Everyone, hold on. Stop clapping for a moment.” After holding Boribori and Marie for a long while, Rickert spoke to the students. “Let’s stop with the speeches. We’ll leave a skeleton crew here, and the rest of us will head back to the Academy. It's night, but if we all go together, it won’t be dangerous.”
Since there were at least fifty of them, sticking together meant there was no chance of bandits or thieves attacking.
Rickert went to his room to pack his things. Then, leading the students, he stepped out of the guild building. Walking at the very front, he felt like a shepherd leading lost sheep home in the dead of night.
As if on cue, the clouds parted, and moonlight broke through, illuminating the path ahead like the gentle touch of a goddess.
*
Rickert had finally returned to the Academy. The season was summer.
Because Beringen Academy was situated on a mountain, the sweltering heat was never too fierce. A cool breeze blew constantly, and the spring water from underground was always ice-cold. The only problem was that even the professors had been scraped up to serve in the war, leaving the Academy with no actual adults.
Cooped up inside the Academy under such circumstances, they were practically cut off from the rest of the world. Out of necessity, Rickert had to organize various activities for the students. Otherwise, there was no telling what mischief they might get into.
He kept Karlich especially close. The boy was incredibly capable, but he was also the most dangerous of them all.
“Ricky, Ricky, look at this! I drew up a schedule.”
Wearing a uniform he had bought with his own money, Rickert sat on a breezy knoll and took the schedule Karlich had made. Sleep, physical training, meals, writing, and groundskeeping chores were meticulously organized by the hour. It even detailed how to distribute personnel, who would lead them, and the rotation for gate duty and night watch.
“What if we divide everyone into classes? It might make management more efficient. They could motivate each other, too. What do you think?”
Rickert listened to Karlich’s suggestions while looking over the schedule. This bastard’s ability is truly off the charts. It’s almost terrifying.
Karlich was at a critical turning point. Raised well, he would become a boon to the world; raised poorly, he would become an unprecedented villain.
“Looks good. More importantly, we need to prepare for winter. That’s the top priority.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve already started stockpiling supplies in the food warehouse.”
“Is that so? Impressive. Honestly, I have nothing to say about things like this. You’re the best at it.”
“What are you talking about, Ricky! There’s no one in the world greater than you! Not even me!”
Ah, fuck, Rickert cursed inwardly. Why was this brilliant talent so unhinged? They said there was a fine line between genius and madness, but this was a bit much.
“Don’t worship people. That goes for me, too.”
“Why… why are you saying that? Are you abandoning me?”
“Who’s abandoning you? Stop talking nonsense. Please, I’m begging you.”
People with healthy self-esteem might not understand, but no matter how smart someone was, if their self-esteem was low, they tended to anchor their sense of self-worth to someone else. And most of these children couldn’t help but have low self-esteem. At this age, they especially needed an idol. To Karlich, Rickert was that idol—the very definition of a perfect human being.
“But I think even your mistakes are a part of your perfection.”
“…Sigh. You terrify me.”
“Why? Me? Why? Don’t be scared of me, Ricky. I’ll do well.”
“It’s not about doing well or not. You’re wound too tight. You’re just a wonderful, talented kid. Believe in yourself a bit more and relax.”
“…How do I do that? I don’t really know.”
“Honestly, I don’t really know either. I suppose it’s something everyone has to figure out for themselves.”
“Even that sounds cool. You know, I remember every single word you say, Ricky.”
“…I can’t say a single word around you.”
Karlich felt like Rickert’s greatest homework assignment during his time at the Academy. The boy wasn’t bad, but he seemed lacking in some ways, yet he was far too intelligent for that to be true. He was a truly enigmatic figure.
“Ricky!”
Boribori poked his head out from the third floor and shouted. Rickert looked up at him, then turned to Karlich.
“I’m off. I’m counting on you.”
“Okay.”
Rickert stood and headed into the inner keep. He didn’t forget to add, “I’m always grateful to you, Kali.”
Rickert tried his best to say kind things to Karlich—words like you’re a good kid, you’re wonderful, you’re highly talented, thank you. It seemed like that was exactly what the boy needed. He had already experienced more than enough bad things in his life.
In fact, Rickert was the first person to ever say such things to Karlich. At home, he had been treated as nothing but a nuisance—eccentric, useless, a troublemaker. Yet Rickert was the first person in his life to recognize him, embrace him, and forgive him even when he made mistakes. On top of all that, he was one of the Nine Swords of the Empire. How could Karlich not view him as an idol?
In any case, Rickert entered the inner keep and went up to the third floor. He sat down in an empty classroom with Boribori and Marie and began his writing. His goal was to finish it before graduation and leave it behind at the Academy. Though, since it was written in ancient script, he wondered who would actually be able to read it.
Marie proofread Rickert’s swordsmanship manual and wrote an interpretation. Although she didn’t know much about the subject herself, asking Rickert questions as she went along allowed her to learn, so she helped out for both their sakes.
And so, time flowed by. It was a cool summer. As the heat gradually subsided, the war came to an end.
Dunkel returned, and Clan Viola was safe. As were the children.
Rickert was now facing graduation.