Chapter 73
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 73
Waves rolled across the sandy beach, flattening the shore into a perfect, smooth sheet each time they receded. Watching the water, Rickert felt the clutter in his mind wash away with it, leaving his thoughts clean and orderly.
He lifted his head. Before him, an endless expanse of water filled the world to its very edge. It was the first ocean he had ever seen. He had heard of it, of course, but he had never laid eyes on it until this moment.
Rickert stood lost in thought, staring at the unbroken horizon. What was this sheer, overwhelming grandeur? Who but God could create such a magnificent spectacle?
It was a shock, yet at the same time, it filled him with a profound sense of awe. He couldn't believe his eyes. The sight was far more stunning than seeing a vampire in the flesh.
The sea breeze swept in, roughly tousling his hair. It was a complete mess, but he didn't care.
It wasn't the ideal season for a trip to the beach, but that didn't matter. The wind might be chilly, but it felt practically warm compared to the flesh-tearing winter gales of the north. It was cold, yet not cold. His chest felt open and clear, leaving him utterly refreshed.
Wispy clouds floated like down feathers in the blue sky. The sun’s glare was mild and pleasant, not intense. And the rhythmic crash of the waves truly did resemble the sound of wind sweeping across an open field.
Swoooosh…
“Unbelievable…” said Ice, who was watching the sea with him a short distance away. He, too, was seeing the ocean for the first time.
The two young swordsmen stared out at the water for a long time. How far did it stretch? If you reached the end, would you simply fall off?
“This is the end of the world,” Ice said.
“No,” Rickert replied. “Maybe heaven is somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, instead of up in the sky.” The idea of an island paradise hidden away somewhere resonated with him more than some utopia floating among the clouds.
Rickert stepped gently onto the smooth, wet sand. His footprints sank into it like snow. A moment later, a thin wave rolled in and washed over his feet. He scooped up a handful of seawater and tasted it. Gods, it really was salty!
Since most of the salt they consumed was rock salt, Rickert had always assumed it was mined from mountains. To think this entire, endless expanse of water was saltwater… He truly couldn't believe it. Salt was an expensive commodity, and this revelation felt like it was shattering his entire understanding of economics.
He looked back out at the sea, feeling as though he could stare at it forever. He wished his other friends could see this just once.
The breathtakingly vast view filled Rickert with a sudden surge of wild, youthful energy. He turned toward the sea and shouted, "Waaaaah!"
Ice laughed at Rickert’s sudden outburst, then joined in, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Waaaaah! Hahahaha!"
Laughter burst from them, free and natural. Swept up in the moment, Rickert stripped off his gear and plunged into the water.
The sound of splashing, the heart-stopping cold, their unbridled laughter—it was a profound sense of liberation.
Ice threw himself into the water as well, and the two of them splashed around like children. Since ancient times, immersing oneself in saltwater was said to carry a sacred meaning, as if God himself had laid out this path to salvation for all of humanity.
Even so, dealing with the aftermath was bound to be a hassle. After a while, they lit a campfire to dry themselves off. With the chill of autumn already in the air, they were practically begging to catch pneumonia if they weren't careful.
Rickert and Ice hung their wet clothes by the fire and shivered. If either of them had been alone, it would have been a pathetic sight. But since they had done something so foolish together, all they could do was laugh.
"What are you going to do after you become a Swordmaster?"
Rickert usually avoided prying into the parts of his friends’ lives they kept hidden, but for some reason, the question felt light and easy now.
"I don't know," Ice replied.
"Do you have to return to your Order once you become a Swordmaster?"
"Most likely…"
"That's a shame. I wish we could all stay together forever."
"Me too. But if I don't do what I must, my brother's death will have been in vain."
"Can you tell me about your brother?"
Ice didn't answer right away. He stared into the campfire, its flickering flames gentle, not fierce. "He was a boy who smiled a lot. But because of that, he committed a sin. He was punished, and he died. I had to spit on his corpse. That is why only my devotion to God can save him."
Rickert couldn't understand it, but out of respect for Ice, he refrained from criticizing his religion. Still, it seemed Ice cared more for his brother than for the religion itself. He appeared to be suffering from the guilt of having stood by during his brother's death, forced to defile his corpse instead of recovering it.
Telling him to forget it because it was in the past was impossible; the pain was too deeply rooted. Besides, saying such a thing would be a grave insult. It was clear Ice felt guilty for even allowing himself to be happy when his brother had died so miserably. It was an inescapable suffering. Ice was struggling, trapped in a prison without bars.
"...To think smiling could be a sin," Rickert murmured. "Especially when there's so much saltwater in the world."
"Indeed. I wish my brother could have seen the sea, too."
"Maybe he already has."
"Hmm?"
"Somewhere out in that distant sea, there must be an island for lost souls. A place free of pain and suffering. He'll be there, waiting for you. And when you meet again someday, he'll welcome you with a smile."
Ice stared at Rickert for a long moment, then simply smiled. Above the pitch-black sea, countless stars twinkled. Yes, there were so many beautiful things in the world. The quiet sound of the waves, the crackling of the campfire, and the stars glittering in the sky.
*
The next morning, Rickert and Ice brushed the salt from their dry clothes and put them on. Equipping their gear once more, they headed south along the shore. Having departed at dawn, they reached the city of Haarlem around mid-morning.
Just as they had seen the sea for the first time the day before, they were now experiencing a true metropolis for the first time. Ehrenberg was a small town with a population of barely a thousand, and the largest city they knew was Rheinfurt, which couldn't compare to this.
It was hard to even estimate how vast Haarlem was; its population seemed to easily exceed ten thousand. The port was massive, the ships were huge, and the market overflowed with all kinds of exotic goods. He had thought Stormherz was a backwater, but it seemed the entire north was just countryside.
Rickert went to a fishmonger in the market to ask for directions. The fishy smell wafting from the piles of seafood was enough to make his head spin, but he kept his expression neutral.
"Excuse me. Do you know where the Rose Acrobatic Troupe is?"
"...Don't know the name, but if you want to see acrobatics, you'll have to go deeper into the city."
"Is that so? Can you tell me roughly where to go?"
"First, find the Great Cathedral, then head south from there. Ask around, and you should find it."
"I understand. Thank you." Rickert handed the man a copper coin and turned away.
Finding the Great Cathedral of Haarlem wasn't difficult. It was one of the city's most prominent landmarks, its massive spire easily visible from a distance. A wide plaza lay before it, with a blood-stained execution platform standing in its center. As there were no public executions scheduled, it had become a playground for the city's children.
Walking south from there, they saw boats passing through canals flanked by narrow, tall houses packed tightly together. A faint, foul odor wafted from the water, but it wasn't overwhelming.
Rickert stopped another passerby. "Excuse me, where can I find the Rose Acrobatic Troupe?"
"Hmm? Are you a traveler?"
"Yes, something like that."
"Then it will be hard for you to see the show. You need an invitation to get in. The venue is next to the entrance of the Catacombs. If you turn right at that road over there and go straight, you'll find it."
The Catacombs were ancient underground cemeteries. Depending on the city, some of these subterranean tombs were so vast and tangled that one could easily get lost inside.
"I understand. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Have a pleasant trip," the passerby said with a bright smile. Unlike the blunt and harsh people of the north, the locals here seemed to possess a certain warmth and ease.
Rickert and Ice walked in the direction they were given. Soon enough, they came upon a Catacombs entrance blocked by iron bars, and next to it stood a very large building. A plaque was affixed to the wall, engraved with the name ‘Garden of Roses’.
"I think this is the place," Rickert said. "Let's find an inn first."
"Yeah."
Now that they had located their target, it was time to settle in and make a plan. They took a room at an inn not far from the Garden of Roses. After unpacking and eating a meal of smoked herring, they wandered the alleys to familiarize themselves with the area.
"The Catacombs seem suspicious, don't they?" Rickert asked as they walked through a dimly lit alley.
"It's almost certain," Ice replied.
"They must not be operating in the open. A place like that is perfect for raising suspicion."
"But how do we get an invitation? Should we try to sneak in at night?"
"They are creatures of the night. Making a move after dark would be throwing away our advantage."
"Hmm…"
"Let's observe first. There's no rush. We might have to face a High Vampire. We need to be cautious."
"Do you want to visit the Thieves' Guild?"
Every city had a Thieves' Guild. Just as light casts a shadow, they were always present. They might know something about the vampires.
But Rickert shook his head. "Let's wait on that, too. It won't do us any good to reveal our identities."
Even an apex predator starts by hiding and watching its prey. Rickert was not the type to act rashly, relying solely on his swordsmanship.
On that first day, they scouted the area around their lodging, noting the location of the city gates and their opening and closing times. Later, they returned to their room and watched the Garden of Roses through the window.
Sure enough, once night fell and ordinary people went to sleep, the building lit up, and guests began to arrive. Some came in fancy carriages, clearly wealthy. Every single one of them wore a long black cloak that covered their entire body, white gloves, and a neat hat—highly formal attire.
Rickert and Ice simply watched in silence. Eventually, the doors closed, signaling that everyone had entered. A long time later, the guests emerged again, laughing merrily as if they had just watched a spectacular performance. Those who had arrived in carriages departed in them, while the rest walked home.
"Eight people are missing."
"Huh?"
"The headcount is different. Eight fewer people came out than went in."
Though he was used to Rickert's sharp senses, Ice felt a fresh wave of admiration. To think he had counted every person who entered and exited, all in the dead of night when it was hard to see.
"But the people were laughing," Ice said. For something sinister to have happened inside, the audience seemed far too joyful.
"For a vampire, making a few people disappear without a trace would be easy, wouldn't it?"
"Hmm... True. It is certainly suspicious."
"But our request is strictly to kill the vampire named Armand. Let's not forget that."
"Right," Ice nodded.
They spent the next day wandering the area again. They discovered that the Catacombs had several entrances, not just one. Some were unbarred, and vagrants had set up camp around them, lighting fires and pitching tents. They seemed extremely vulnerable to attack, yet they lived there without any apparent trouble. Furthermore, for vagrants, their faces and clothes were remarkably clean.
That night, Rickert and Ice watched the Garden of Roses from their inn window once more. People gathered for the performance, and when they left, the headcount had shrunk again. This time, five people were missing.
They spent the following day formulating plans—should they enter the Catacombs, or ambush a theatergoer to steal an invitation?
That night, however, something changed. After the last guest had entered the theater, a gentleman stepped back outside. He looked directly toward the window where Rickert and Ice were hidden, took off his hat, and gave a polite bow, as if to let them know he was aware of their surveillance. Then he put his hat back on and re-entered the building. The door closed.
Rickert and Ice widened their eyes and looked at each other.
Rickert grinned. "Heh, we're busted. How did he know?"
"He's incredibly sharp."
Even though they hadn't taken any suspicious actions, he had noticed them. The inn and the theater weren't even that close, and they had, of course, been watching from a darkened room.
The next day, the innkeeper delivered an invitation from the Rose Acrobatic Troupe. It felt less like an invitation and more like a challenge to a duel.
Rickert was cautious when necessary, but he was bold when the time came. He thought this was for the best. Intent on seeing their faces for himself, he immediately went to a tailor to have formal clothes made. Then, they waited for night to fall.
As the sun set and the hour of nocturnal creatures arrived, Rickert and Ice dressed in white gloves, formal suits, and long black cloaks. Carrying only a single dagger each, they headed for the Garden of Roses.
The stars in the night sky no longer looked beautiful. Now, they seemed to be snickering down at them with unpleasant glee.