The Warrior’s Ballad
Chapter 88.1

Translator: Willia

The scenes of people's lives that Ricardt saw while sailing were truly hard to describe.

Under the cool autumn sunlight, some places were nothing short of a pandemonium, while others still carried on their daily lives in peace.

Of course, even if it appeared that they were leading ordinary lives on the surface, it was obvious that a shadow of anxiety loomed within.

Thus, they firmly locked their city gates and strictly enforced curfews. They armed themselves with swords and spears, wary of outsiders.

Most commercial activities had come to a standstill. However, the number of people seeking adventurers had increased significantly.

Weapons dealers were making a fortune, the demand for iron was rising, and rogue barons prowled the roads like wolves, looking to seize their share.

There was no need for deep insight to understand the times. Even the most ignorant person instinctively knew what kind of situation they were in.

Every man for himself.

Communities across cities and rural areas alike banded together. On a smaller scale, families clung tightly to one another, and on an even smaller scale, individuals could only trust themselves.

Such was the world they were living in. Even in Ernburg, city dwellers became more united while growing increasingly exclusionary toward outsiders.

The only fortunate aspect was that, at least on the surface, nothing seemed significantly amiss yet.

"Is Count Reinhold alright? Has he said anything?"

Ricardt asked Volka, who was rolling a wooden barrel and stacking it neatly against the wall.

Count Reinhold was the lord of the region to which the city of Ernburg belonged. The course he took would determine whether the merchants and other interest groups under him would follow or leave.

In other words, how much the Order of Judgement would be suppressed was in his hands.

"The Count doesn't seem to care much, but the real issue is the headquarters."

"What about the headquarters?"

"They're offering bounties for every member of the Order captured."

"It's not mandatory, right? We don't have to do it, do we?"

As Ricardt continued to ask obvious questions, Volka leaned his elbow on a wooden barrel and looked at Ricardt.

"Ricky, I'm responsible for the branch. Just in our clan alone, we have ten members now. You don’t even know the newcomers yet, do you? And besides our clan, there are five other clans under me. Altogether, we have nearly fifty people. Among the adventurers, some have families. Right now, job opportunities aren't exactly common. Do you think I can just tell them not to take part in this?"

Things were different now. Gone were the days when they simply enjoyed seeing each other's faces, shared laughter, and entrusted their backs to one another while completing requests. Now, there were many mouths to feed. He had responsibilities.

"…Sorry. I hadn't thought of that."

"We're not going to turn anyone in. And we won’t abandon Ice either. Even if it causes losses, we’ll bear it. But if I have to make a choice, I want you to know that my decision is already made."

"I understand."

"Thanks. And congratulations, by the way."

"For what?"

"You got engaged to Marie, didn’t you?"

"Ah…"

Ricardt let out a small chuckle.

"If you can call it an engagement ceremony, it was a pretty tragic one."

After all, that incident had happened during the finals. It wasn’t exactly a celebratory engagement.

Volka practically tore the lid off the barrel he had just moved, scooped out a cupful with a dirty wooden mug, and took a sip. Beyond the wall, the sound of adventurers chatting inside the branch building could be heard.

"But are you certain it was Rubens?"

"Marie said she heard it clearly. Something about Lorenz."

"Then it's war…"

The world was already in turmoil over the Emperor’s death and the Order of Judgement, but adventurers had their own matters to deal with.

Attempting to assassinate Ricardt was not something that could simply be overlooked, not as the branch leader, not as the clan leader, and not as a friend.

Especially for those who made a living with the sword, repaying grudges was more important than their own lives. If they failed to settle their vendettas, they would be considered finished in their line of work.

Reputation was everything in this world, and if one acted like a coward, those who followed them would eventually leave.

"We’ll have to find another way. Things are busy enough as they are."

But it was a chaotic and hectic time. Ironically, the more the world fell into disorder, the more prosperous adventurers became.

But that wasn’t entirely a good thing either. After all, more work meant more fights, and that inevitably led to a higher mortality rate.

Ricardt had no intention of letting things slide if he crossed paths with the Rubens Guild, but he also thought it would be unreasonable to go out of his way to start trouble.

Ernburg was, at the end of the day, just a branch. Their opponent wasn’t just a single clan but an entire guild. The scale was completely different.

"No. Those bastards attacked you, so the answer is already decided. The only question is how we go about it, not whether we do it or not."

However, Volka spoke firmly, completely unwavering.

The Viola Clan was already known as a legendary force throughout the central and northern regions. Furthermore, Ernburg was the most powerful among all the branches.

Perhaps because he had become the leader of such a formidable group, Volka's judgment and decisiveness had grown razor-sharp.

He had always had that tendency, but now he truly felt like an adult. He exuded the aura of an organization’s boss.

Ricardt was currently thirteen years old. Volka was eighteen. A swordsman’s prime ranged from their late teens to their mid-twenties. Beyond that, they either retired or died.

Surviving into their thirties or forties while continuing as an adventurer was an achievement in itself. Dunkel had done it, and the former Torveil Branch Leader was another rare example.

In any case, Ricardt felt both proud and burdened by Volka’s words. Just as he had been there for his friends, they were now standing up for him.

A faint memory of the vow of vengeance they had made in Griffinswald surfaced in his mind. Molty and Lara had retired early, what about the others? Were they doing well?

After downing a large gulp of lukewarm beer, Volka spoke.

"Let’s do this. I think it would be better to send Ice out. Ricky, your revenge should be Ice’s to carry out. So talk to him properly."

"I’m coming too."

"I thought your lungs were bad?"

"The one who made the poison should have the perfect antidote."

"......"

Volka stared at Ricardt in silence.

"What?"

"I used to think you were just brave. But now, it feels more like you don’t care if you die."

Volka still couldn’t forget it, the sight of Ricardt walking off alone to fight when Molty had collapsed from an injury during the academy mission.

At the time, he had been so shocked that he thought Ricardt had lost his mind. But when Ricardt returned after defeating the enemies, it shattered something in his understanding of the world.

Of course, Ricardt was incredibly skilled. But even so, his complete lack of hesitation in the face of a blade was unsettling.

"Is that so?"

Ricardt didn’t usually care about how others saw him, but people often noticed things about him that he himself wasn’t aware of. And coming from a friend, it made him think, maybe Volka was right.

But he didn’t dwell on it too much.

"Think about Marie. We’re not knights. If things get bad, we can run."

"Got it."

"Take as much time as you need before you go. Marie will follow you, and Bori will probably tag along this time too. With Ice, that makes four of you. Honestly, with you four, wiping out an entire guild wouldn’t even be that hard."

Ricardt, Boribori, Ice, and Marie were in a completely different league from ordinary adventurers.