The Warrior’s Ballad
Chapter 86

Translator: Willia

It was like a light cutting through the darkness. That was the sword of a Sword Master. As if slicing through a piece of the night, the violet flash shone vividly, neither too bright nor too dark.

"Oh..."

Ricardt, who had been camping outside with a bonfire for the first time in a while, sat shoulder to shoulder with Marie and admired her sword.

Honestly, it was not because it was impressive but purely because it was fascinating. As the first Sword Master in his past life, he had once ignited golden flames from his blade. But now, seeing someone close to him become a Sword Master after such a long time felt strange.

Marie, as if shy, withdrew the light and sheathed her sword once more.

"How does it feel?"

"I'm not sure. Just... why didn't I realize this before? It feels like I was born with an extra limb but only now became aware of it."

"So even after becoming a Sword Master, you don't really know what it means?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's just a very sharp sword, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's right. I think so too."

Ricardt and Marie seemed to regard being a Sword Master as trivial. But on the other hand, perhaps the world simply overestimated it.

Sword Masters still felt hunger, exhaustion, and were made of flesh and bone. They could be wounded by blades and, like everyone else, they could die.

Even so, people revered them for two reasons.

One was that in an era where the quality of iron was inconsistent, swords were difficult to use on the battlefield. It was common for them to break after just a few swings, so they were often used as secondary weapons.

In such an environment, wielding a sword that could slice through armor and shields as easily as cutting cheese was already an absurd ability.

And the second reason was because someone had set an extraordinary precedent, Ricky, the first Sword Master.

Those who had witnessed Ricky simply assumed, 'Ah, if you become a Sword Master, you can single-handedly defeat the emperor's elite troops and become invincible.'

But if someone were to travel back in time and ask Ricky how he became so strong, he might have answered like this:

"I think knowing how to use oneself as a chess piece is important. If you can read the overall flow of battle and utilize yourself properly, you can exert tremendous power even without being a Sword Master. But if a Sword Master does that? At that point, it's almost like a one-man army."

"That sounds like you're saying that even after becoming a Sword Master, it's just the beginning."

"First, what is the objective? Second, how do you win? Third, how do you fight? It may sound obvious, but I’ve rarely seen people who truly internalize and execute these principles. Except for Caldebert."

"Huh?"

Marie was puzzled by the unfamiliar name. More accurately, she did not immediately realize that the Caldebert Ricardt mentioned was the heroic knight from over a hundred years ago.

"Ah, Someone I know. Anyway, everything starts from these three principles. So, what’s our goal?"

"To kill Lucky Luizinant."

"And next?"

"How do we win? Hmm, I suppose we have to behead him?"

"No, that’s not it. You have to think about the enemy. First of all, this guy is an outsider. Even if he has gathered troops, they won’t be many, and their discipline will be poor. On top of that, do you think the ones following him will have loyalty?"

Ricardt spoke as if he were a teacher. When it came to swordsmanship, his words were often vague and difficult to grasp, but this time, Marie found it completely understandable.

So, she listened intently.

"No."

"Then we don’t necessarily have to fight all the forces he has gathered. People who come together easily also scatter easily."

"Then what do we do?"

"That’s the second question. How do we win? Always remember, start with observation. No matter how many enemies there are, no matter how strong they seem, you have to observe first. Quickly and accurately. The more information you can gather, the better. You'll get better at it over time."

Marie stared intently at her fiancé as Ricardt explained in detail.

“Why?”

“...Professor, how do you know all of this?”

"Who knows."

“By the way, how’s your chest feeling?”

“The same. It hurts when I take a deep breath.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to see that Dr. Reno?”

“I’d rather not stop by my family’s house.”

“Why?”

“It’s just uncomfortable. Besides, that man isn’t a doctor. He’s just a scholar. It’d be better to ask an actual doctor later.”

Marie stared at Ricardt again, but this time, something was different. Ricardt could read her expression and knew what she was thinking.

Marie still wanted to go see Dr. Reno. But would this stubborn man actually listen if she said so? If she brought it up now, it might turn into an argument.

Marie knew this, and Ricardt knew it too. That was why an odd silence followed.

“Fine. Let’s drop by for a bit after we’re done.”

Marie grinned.

“It’s what your father said, not me forcing you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Ricardt nodded, acknowledging it.

Still, wasn’t he even the least bit worried about his condition? Not to mention, they were about to go kill a man who had been conning and blackmailing noble lords.

It wasn’t just reckless, it was fascinating. How could he be like this? But Marie liked that about Ricardt.

An ordinary person would have panicked, fallen into despair, and lost hope, but he just carried on calmly as if it were nothing.

That was why even misfortune seemed unable to trouble him.

Marie naturally leaned into Ricardt’s embrace. But contrary to the happiness she was feeling, she spoke with a pout.

"Stupid."

"Suddenly?"

"Stupid."

"Well, I suppose I could be."

Ricardt hugged her back. It was a chilly autumn night, but with the fire and their warmth together, there was no time to feel the cold.

Finding Luizinant was not difficult, given that he had been going around towns blackmailing and conning people.

They were on the road leaving Count Caldebern’s territory and heading up to Reinfurt. It was not the same path he had taken with Arno three years ago. Back then, they had used a shortcut, but now they were on a commonly traveled road.

A checkpoint was set up at the crossroads. Two mercenaries stood guard, leaning on their halberds. Ricardt scanned the surroundings before turning to Marie.

“Let’s go up that way.”

Ricardt began climbing a mountain path thick with twigs and branches. After climbing a reasonable distance, they could see the checkpoint and what looked like a temporary outpost behind it.

He glanced over the area for about ten seconds before turning to Marie like a teacher instructing a student.

“What do you see?”

“Hmm... there are only about seven or eight of them? I could handle them by myself.”

“Ah, you can’t just rely on your sword skills and rush into fights. Look more closely.”

“Hmm... Their appearance is neat, their clothes are colorful, they’re well-armed, and... is that guy the leader?”

Since Marie had never experienced real combat, it was understandable that she did not know. Ricardt pointed things out to her one by one.

“Wearing colorful clothes means they’re mercenaries. When gathered in numbers, they have decent combat strength. Mercenaries like to dress up, but once a fight starts, they turn into beggars in no time. So, if someone looks like a beggar but their weapon is well-maintained? That means they’re dangerous. But these guys?”

“They look excessively clean.”

“Exactly. That means they don’t really want to fight. They’re just hanging around Luizinant, hoping for a quick score before making their exit. Got it?”

This was knowledge that could only be gained through extensive real-life combat experience.

Ricardt asked again.

"And what else?"

"Can't you just tell me?"

"Think about it, Marie."

"What if I really don’t know...?"

"Seven or eight grown men eat quite a bit in a day. Do you think they’re farming over there? No. From what I can tell, they probably only bring small amounts of food with them and take turns standing guard. There's a city nearby, after all. Besides, it doesn’t make sense for so few people to be blackmailing nobles."

"Now that you mention it, that’s true."

"It’s harvest season, so surplus food is being sold, and trade is active. If they block the road and charge tolls, they can make a hefty profit. But do you know something? Mercenaries don’t just chase after money."

"Really? Then what do they follow?"

"Money is the biggest factor, of course, but they’re also very sensitive to the political standing of whoever they follow. In other words, even if they fight, they want to make sure they won’t get into trouble later. They can't afford to be branded as rebels. If they become rebels, it doesn't end with simply leaving the war. They'll be hunted down and executed in the most brutal ways."

Marie simply nodded, absorbing the information. But she couldn't quite picture how to use it to their advantage.

"Let's become law enforcement officers."

"Huh?"

"We’ll pretend to be official lawmen sent by the Imperial Court. That way, Luizinant automatically becomes an impersonator. How dare he impersonate an imperial officer? What’s the punishment for that?"

"If someone forges imperial documents or impersonates an official, the punishment is quartering."

Even outside the Imperial Court, impersonation was punishable by having one’s limbs torn apart. Marie had witnessed such executions a few times when she was younger.

"But will they believe us?"

"You just need to show them your sword."

"Huh?"

"Sword Master. The glowing thing. Let’s say you’re the new Emperor's Champion. And you are my bodyguard."

"Uh..."

Marie had no sense of authority or superiority, so she was unsure if using a Sword Master’s blade for something like this was acceptable. But well, since Ricky was insisting...

"I don't even need to draw my sword to deal with scum like them. Let's go."

Ricardt descended the mountain path again. With his sword strapped to his waist, he strode confidently toward the fake checkpoint.

The mercenaries, who had been lazily leaning on their halberds, turned to look at them.

One of them immediately spoke.

"The toll is half of whatever you’ve got."

What nonsense. As expected, they were nothing but roadside bandits.

Ricardt widened his eyes and bellowed.

"How dare you! Do you know who I am?! I am an officer sent by His Imperial Majesty to maintain order! You lot are the very scum disturbing these lands!"

As Ricardt shouted, the mercenaries blinked in surprise. They didn't immediately lower their heads but instead took a careful look at him.

"I heard the Emperor is dead..."

"Insolence! You fool! When the late Emperor passes, it is only natural that the Crown Prince ascends the throne! How dare you speak so carelessly of His Majesty’s passing! This is unacceptable! Champion!"

Ricardt loudly proclaimed this without knowing that the Crown Prince had been killed by Bellator. Of course, no one here was aware of that fact.

Marie still wasn’t sure if this was the right approach, but for now, she unsheathed her sword and let its light radiate.

At that moment, the mercenaries’ eyes widened in shock. A Sword Master. She must be the Emperor’s Champion. But she’s such a young woman? What’s going on?

"The crime of defiling His Majesty’s name! The crime of following an imposter who dares assume my title! Champion! Cut down these traitors!"

"W-Wait a minute! We didn't know!"

"Please, wait! We really didn't know!"

"W-We truly thought he was an official! We were just hired! We never intended to defy the Empire!"

At Ricardt’s roar, the mercenaries immediately threw down their weapons, fell to their knees, and bowed their heads.

Ah, the taste of power was indeed sweet.

But when Marie actually moved to behead them, Ricardt quickly grabbed her sleeve and shook his head vigorously. A clear sign, not for real.

Ricardt furrowed his brows and pretended to ponder for a moment before speaking.

“Hmm... Very well. Since it hasn’t been long since His Majesty ascended the throne, shedding unnecessary blood would be inauspicious.”

“E-Exactly! The gods would surely prefer the blood of a virgin or a lamb as a sacrifice! Not filthy scum like us!”

Ricardt had no idea what kind of nonsense that was, but regardless, he was going to use them to lead him to Luizinant.

“However, I cannot simply let an impersonator go free. You will take me to him. He must be captured and torn limb from limb. And clean up this mess.”

“Yes, sir! We shall carry out your orders!”

Perhaps feeling like they had just come back from the dead, the mercenaries sprang to their feet and began tearing down the makeshift checkpoint and roadblocks as if trying to destroy them entirely.

Then, gripping their weapons, they led Ricardt and Marie toward the city. Judging by their formation, they seemed to have experience escorting high-ranking nobles or wealthy individuals before.

With precise, disciplined movements and a strong posture, they now escorted the supposed imperial law enforcer with utmost vigilance. There was no real need to go this far, but somehow, Ricardt found himself instinctively straightening his back as well.

As they entered the city, passersby turned to stare. It was obvious at a glance that they were accompanying someone of high status.

Meanwhile, the other mercenaries, who had been scattered across the city, drinking, harassing local women, or indulging in entertainment, noticed the shift in atmosphere. Seeing their comrades escorting someone with such solemnity, they sensed an ominous turn of events.

They could feel it in their bones, something was seriously fucked. Mercenaries had a keen sense for matters of life and death, and their instincts were sharper than most.

Many of them instantly sobered up, released the women they had been harassing, and either went into hiding or hurriedly joined the escort, pretending they had been part of it all along.

When they reached the largest tavern in the city, a mercenary holding a halberd stepped forward and opened the door for Ricardt. A wave of sweat, alcohol, and scent hit Ricardt’s face.

Inside, he immediately spotted a man drowning in excess, gambling recklessly, surrounded by women, and throwing money around as if it were worthless. It was obvious. That had to be Luizinant.

“Idiocy knows no class, I tell you! The problem with people is they assume nobles know everything! When in reality, they’re sloppy and stupid. Fucking morons.”

Having scammed his way through various places and feeling like things were going well for him, Luizinant was loudly spouting nonsense, acting as if he were someone of great importance.

But as the people around him turned to see Ricardt and the mercenaries, their expressions hardened in shock.

“I swear, back when I was in the west, I probably slept with at least ten noble ladies. But that-”

Luizinant was the last to notice the change in the atmosphere. He slowly followed their gazes, turning his head.

And there, he found himself face-to-face with a young man carrying a sword, a woman beside him, and his own mercenaries staring straight at him.

Ricardt smirked and leisurely walked up to him, dragging a chair over to sit down.

“Ah... Luizinant, are nobles really that easy? I’d love to hear more.”

“Uh... Who...?”

“Imperial law enforcement.”

“...But the Emperor is dead...”

“Oh, yeah, he is. Dead is dead. And you’ll be joining him soon. But depending on how you act, I might let you off.”

The tavern had fallen into complete silence. Luizinant scanned his surroundings again. Seeing the stiff expressions of the mercenaries, he realized something had gone terribly wrong, they had already turned against him.

Nobles shouldn’t have been able to respond this quickly. They didn’t have the ability.

By the time the lords gathered their armies to deal with him, he would’ve long since escaped with the money. Luizinant was skilled at disappearing when needed.

But for things to escalate this fast, right at the peak of his success... He hadn’t expected this. The Emperor had only recently died, how could law enforcers already be dispatched?

Luizinant turned back to Ricardt, his voice faltering.

“Uh, what...?”

“Your backers. And the money.”

“B-Backers? I have no such thing. And as for the money...”

“Are you hesitating? Then die.”

“N-No! Wait! The money, it's in the Reinfurt Goldsmith’s Guild vault. If you just-”

Ricardt looked into his eyes and immediately knew the bastard was lying. There was no money. He had spent it all on indulgences.

After a brief moment of consideration, Ricardt nodded as if he understood.

"Alright. I’ll wait here, so go and retrieve the money. If you try to run, I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth."

"O-Of course! Of course! I’ll definitely return with the money!"

Believing he had survived, Luizinant scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the suffocating silence of the tavern.

Ricardt then turned to the mercenaries.

"Capture that bastard, tear him limb from limb, and behead him. Display the torn pieces of his body at the city gates, and send his head to Stormhertz. If you do this, you will be pardoned."

Before he had even finished speaking, the mercenaries rushed outside.

Ricardt glanced over the half-eaten meals on the table, then picked up a goblet and took a sip of the expensive liquor.

He turned lazily toward the tavern owner.

"Refund the remaining amount."

"Excuse me?"

"He didn’t finish his food."

"A... Ah, y-yes. Understood."

"And since he didn’t stay the night, return the payment for the lodging as well."

Rather than a simple refund, the tavern owner ended up bringing over all the money Luizinant had spent that day. A full ten gold coins. That was just how quickly money drained when spent on debauchery.

Ricardt also gathered the scattered coins littering the table from Luizinant’s gambling.

The patrons held their breath, silently watching the imperial law enforcer. They all wished he would just take the money and leave as soon as possible.

At that moment, a scream echoed from outside.

"Why! Why! I told you I’d bring the money! Wait! No, no, AAAAAAAGH!"

Ricardt listened to Luizinant’s dying screams while picking at the leftover food.

Finding it unappetizing, he suddenly slammed a chicken bone onto the table and stood up. The watching patrons flinched.

When he stepped outside, the mercenaries were already displaying Luizinant’s torn-apart body on stakes.

"We will place his head in a salt sack for delivery."

One mercenary reported. Clearly, this was not their first time handling such matters, they were professionals.

Mercenaries might have been thugs, but they were also highly skilled. When they did something, they did it thoroughly. The only issue was that they were expensive and difficult to control.

Ricardt then stopped by the Imperial Guild Bureau to send the money he had taken from the tavern back to his hometown. It was a modest sum but more than enough to recover any losses.

After that, he quietly left the city with Marie, heading home, to meet Dr. Reno.

"You really didn’t even have to draw your sword to kill him?"

Marie remarked. She had been somewhat worried about Ricardt’s health, but this was like blowing one’s nose without even lifting a finger.

"Smart people tend to analyze others well but fail to see their own flaws. That guy thought nobles were careless, but he never realized that he was careless himself. The world must have seemed easy to him. But that’s when luck runs out."

"Professor, is there anything you don’t know?"

"This is only the beginning, my student. Keep working hard."

He said it half-jokingly, but it was the truth. If Marie, a Sword Master, were to learn Ricardt’s strategies, tactics, combat knowledge, abilities, and techniques, she might truly become as invincible as Ricky was in his past life.

The Sword Masters who had fallen to Ricardt so far, as well as the ones currently alive, had all failed to surpass the limits of mere swordsmen.

To truly become a weapon of war, there was no other way but to gain an overwhelming amount of battle experience. The problem, however, was that one could very well die in the process of accumulating that experience.

That was why knowledge from an experienced warrior was more valuable than gold.

But Marie simply grinned and joked around.

“I don’t want to.”

“Huh?”

“Ricky, just do everything for me.”

As Marie laughed and teased him, Ricardt chuckled as well.

"What a troublesome student."

Speaking of which, Bellator could also be considered Ricardt’s student, but he was completely different from Marie. After all, he had followed Ricardt’s teachings, seized the opportunity of a lifetime, and carried out a bold and spectacular murder.

One was a diligent student, while the other was a lazy one. But which was the right path? Was it better to faithfully follow the teachings, or was it fine to simply joke around?

Looking at what Ricardt actually taught, it was chilling and terrifying in nature. Of course, how one used that knowledge depended entirely on the student.

As they walked together, Marie playfully bumped into Ricardt with her shoulder again and again. She was a truly mischievous disciple.

Chapter 17 - Back in My Hometown. End.