The Warrior’s Ballad - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Translator: Willia

“Well then, I have to prepare the documents separately, so I’ll take my leave now. The knight order will probably send someone, and as for the Adventurer Training Academy, I don’t know whether it’s better to go through the royal family or contact them directly. But I’ll do my best to find a good place that will take special care of our brave young master Ricardt. Hahaha.”

There were several Adventurer Training Academies within the Empire, mostly sponsored by the Emperor, kings, or great nobles, and operated by guilds.

It hadn’t been long since these academies were institutionalized to train professional adventurers, so their operation methods varied and there were hardly any that were completely established yet.

Anyway, since the two boys had made their decision, all that was left were procedural matters. Given the era, everything had to be handled by people.

“Travel safely. Please convey my regards to the Count.”

“I will never forget the grace of your hospitality. I hope both young masters fare well. Ah, there’s one thing I’d like to advise. Never trust what merchants say, and don’t associate with spellcasters at all.”

“……Why?”

Vilter asked.

“Merchants would sell their souls to the devil for money, and spellcasters look down on people and are so selfish they have no sense of guilt. Their way of thinking is different. So, it’s best not to associate with them.”

Leaving his final piece of advice, he put on a fur hat to keep his bald head warm and left the mansion.

Even though no one told them to, Vilter and Ricardt climbed the watchtower to see Dr. Reno off. The cold winter wind blew fiercely, but it did not intimidate the boys.

As he reached the horizon and was barely visible, he waved his hand broadly in their direction. The two boys waved back just as broadly.

After his visit, if anything had changed, it was that Vilter’s anxiety and irritation had turned into excitement, anticipation, and a bit of fear.

And personally, Ricardt was curious about how the world had changed after 100 years. Unlike his older brother Vilter, he wasn’t particularly thrilled.

About a month later, as the ground started to thaw at the end of winter, the villagers began to spread manure on the fields, filling the entire estate with the smell of dung.

Amidst the smell, a stranger rode into the village on a horse. He wore chainmail under a white surcoat with a flame emblem.

His saddle was equipped with a helmet, shield, spear, and axe, all of which were scratched and worn, showing they were not merely decorative.

It was said that one knight of the Order of the Flame Knights could take on at least 40 Salaman barbarians, and his demeanor and gaze certainly seemed to confirm that. It was as if an aura flowed out from over his shoulder.

As he entered the courtyard and glanced around, there was something about his gaze that intimidated people. All of the servants of Stormhertz averted their eyes.

He remained on his horse until Abelich, who clearly looked like the lord of the manor, came out of the mansion. Only then did he dismount. Then, in a manner that could be seen as either arrogant or perhaps dignified, he introduced himself.

“Senior Knight of the Order of the Flame Knights, Edmund.”

“I am Abelich, Lord of Stormhertz. Does the Order of the Flame Knights usually show up unannounced?”

“Your family applied for a volunteer, and we accepted. What other procedures are needed? I did not come as a guest. I do not expect to be treated as one.”

“……”

“Who is the volunteer? I will take them immediately.”

It was somewhat shocking and absurd that he barged in and demanded to take Vilter right away.

Everyone unconsciously looked at Vilter, who stared blankly at the knight of the Order of the Flame Knights with a shocked expression. It seemed as if his excitement and anticipation were crumbling in an instant, replaced by growing fear.

At that moment, an unexpected youthful voice suddenly broke in.

“Who said anything about treating you as a guest? This is Stormhertz, not the Knight Order. Show proper respect to the master of the land you’ve entered.”

Everyone was surprised to see it was Ricardt.

The knight named Edmund quietly observed Ricardt, who was glaring at him, and then chuckled.

“Is it you? The volunteer? You’ve got promising eyes. But don’t get cocky. The knight order won’t treat you like a young master.”

“Hmph. Look at yourself. Aren’t you the one being cocky, coming into someone else’s house like this?”

“……”

While everyone else was too intimidated by the unfamiliar knight’s aura, but the smallest one here, Ricardt, was bravely standing up to him.

However, his cute face, mature tone, and young voice made his words less impactful.

In fact, Ricardt wasn’t entirely wrong. He had stepped forward because of the knight’s attitude, which seemed to disregard his father, brothers, and hometown people.

“Ricky, that’s enough. I apologize for my son’s rudeness on his behalf. Edmund, you have done nothing wrong. As you said, we applied for a volunteer, and the knight order accepted. However, the volunteer is not Ricky here, but my second son, Vilter. I have something to give to my son, so please wait a moment.”

Abelich stopped Ricardt and went back into the mansion.

However, upon hearing that Ricardt was not the volunteer, Edmund looked a bit surprised. He had secretly taken a liking to him.

It was because those with a fierce or confrontational nature tended to endure well.

The knight order, especially the Order of the Flame Knights, was one of the toughest. No, it was undoubtedly the most difficult and thus gathered the most excellent combat personnel in the empire.

High-intensity training, strict discipline, and countless life or death battles. One couldn’t endure such a place with mere determination or temperament.

Failure to endure often meant death. Once inducted, there was no option to quit or escape. Desertion was a serious crime under military law.

Even after Abelich entered the mansion, Ricardt continued to glare angrily at Edmund, his mouth tightly shut.

A ten-year-old’s glare wasn’t going to intimidate a battle-hardened knight, but Edmund felt a strange sense of discord from Ricardt’s hazel eyes.

It was a kind of instinctive danger warning honed through real combat, though he thought it couldn’t be the case.

Meanwhile, looking at Vilter standing next to Ricardt, Edmund saw the typical frightened expression of a young boy.

Thus, his interest, briefly piqued by Ricardt, quickly waned.

“Have you ever served as a squire?”

Edmund asked, looking at Vilter.

“……”

But Vilter, seeming dazed, didn’t seem to hear Edmund’s question. So Ricardt, still glaring at Edmund, poked his brother’s side.

“Ah! Why, huh?”

“He’s asking if you’ve ever served as a squire.”

Ricardt whispered.

“A-a squire? W-well, I know how to maintain armor and weapons to some extent…”

“Any combat experience?”

Nobles sometimes participated in battles as young as fourteen if they were unlucky. Great heroes often distinguished themselves in combat from a young age.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Vilter had no combat experience.

“N-no, I don’t have any…”

“If you volunteered for the knight order out of a superficial desire, you’d better give up that expectation. If your family decided it without your consent, it’s easier to just accept it. There’s no turning back now. Only service and dedication to the Empire lie ahead. Don’t think too much. It will only erode your resolve. Just endure silently.”

“……”

It sounded more like a grim warning than advice. Indeed, life in the knight order was actually brutal.

At that moment, Abelich came back out of the mansion. In his hand was a shield bearing the family crest.

The crest was divided into four quarters by a white line on a red background, a symbol granted by the Emperor.

“Take this with you. I hope this shield will protect you.”

Vilter quietly accepted the shield with a heavy heart. Edmund silently observed him before mounting his horse without saying a word.

“Follow me. I shall take my leave, Lord Abelich.”

He then turned his horse and exited the courtyard.

Vilter glanced back and forth between his family and Edmund, stuttering, “Uh…”. Once he left, who knew when he would return? He might never come back.

It felt like he should say something, but the words wouldn’t come. What should he say? Shouldn’t he say goodbye?

Meanwhile, Edmund continued to move further away, and Vilter had no choice but to start walking. It was common for the knight to ride while the squire walked.

It wasn’t easy from the start. The headquarters of the Order of the Flame Knights was at least a month’s walk away.

Ricardt watched Vilter until he was out of sight. He alternated between running to catch up with Edmund and walking. He looked back countless times.

Eventually, they disappeared beyond the horizon.

Even after Vilter left, Stormhertz remained unchanged. They plowed the fields, sowed seeds, and weeded…

The village boys, who had played with Vilter in their childhood, tried not to show their sadness. Whenever Vilter’s name came up, they would say,

“He didn’t go off to die, did he?”

That’s right. He didn’t go off to die. And it was his own choice. They had to believe he would do well. When they saw him again, wouldn’t he be a gallant knight?

Ricardt kept his feelings of sadness and loneliness to himself. And now it was his turn.

He spent his time wandering the territory with a still-growing, untrained hunting dog.

He would sit in the fields, watching the dog happily run around. When it came close, he would pet its head and back.

Now, just running through the fields didn’t bring the same joy it used to.

At dusk, he would return home with the dog, have dinner with his family, wash up, and sleep.

About a week after Vilter left, while wandering outside with the dog again and returning around evening, Graut, dressed in outdoor clothes and pacing in the courtyard, said,

“Ricky, you came at the right time. I was just about to look for you. Go to the study quickly.”

Ricardt felt calm, thinking that whatever was going to happen would happen anyway.

When he entered the study, someone was sitting on the sofa. The man was slim, looked very agile, and had a leather bag slung across his shoulder.

He was completely different from the senior knight Edmund. Sitting and blankly staring at Ricardt, he had no imposing presence and looked like an ordinary person.

He didn’t seem very old, appearing to be around the same age as Ricardt’s eldest brother, Graut.

The man, who had been conversing with Abelich, noticed Ricardt and spoke.

“Ah, I’m a courier affiliated with the Imperial Guild Bureau. I came because I have something to deliver. You’re young master Ricardt, correct?”

“Yes.”

The Imperial Guild Bureau? Is there such a thing? Anyway, the man took out a cylindrical container made of hard leather from his bag. When he opened the lid, a scroll sealed with wax emerged, which he handed it to Ricardt.

Ricardt broke the wax seal and unrolled the scroll. It was an admission letter to an academy. An academy? Admission?

The elegant handwriting on the admission letter mainly contained content praising the academy.

Our academy carries a long-standing tradition. We teach ancient scripts, survival skills, various martial arts, fosters teamwork and through competition… and so on and so forth…

The border of the admission letter was adorned with gold leaf patterns, and the emblems symbolizing the imperial family and the academy were stamped in combination.

Ricardt handed the admission letter to his father for him to see and then spoke to the courier.

“From what I’ve heard, they were supposed to train professional adventurers.”

“Well, young master, I’m just a delivery man, so I don’t know much, but many people don’t view the word ‘adventurer’ very favorably. Saying ‘academy’ makes it sound more respectable… I haven’t seen many places openly using the term ‘adventurer.’”

“…Anyway, this academy is sponsored by the royal family?”

“Yes, that’s right. I believe that it’s operated by a guild.”

“An adventurer guild?”

“Haha… Probably?”

“Which adventurers’ guild?”

“If it’s Beringen Academy, then it’s likely the Beringen Adventurers’ Guild.”

Beringen was a place name. It was located in the northeastern part of the Empire, though not as far north as Heiden.

In fact, most adventurer academies were located in the eastern part of the Empire because they were close to Fernland.

The ultimate goal of adventurer academies was to go to Fernland to find ancient relics or the Codex. Fernland was a sort of base city, and the surrounding areas remained largely unexplored.

Abelich silently read through the admission letter and then asked the courier.

“It says to enroll by March 14th. Are you the escort?”

“No, my lord. I’m just a delivery man. I can guide you to Reinfurt, but going all the way to Beringen is beyond my capacity. I have other duties to attend to…”

In the case of the Order of the Flame Knights, Senior Knight Edmund had come to fetch the volunteer. But it seemed that was not the case for the academy. It appeared one had to arrive by the specified date on their own.

“March 14th… that’s a bit tight…”

Abelich fell into contemplation. As the lord, he couldn’t leave the estate recklessly, and the same applied to his heir, Graut.

Even if he wanted to send someone else along, it was the busy farming season, and many hands were needed. This wasn’t a particularly wealthy estate, so the absence of even one person made a big difference.

In fact, both joining the knight order and entering the academy were fully funded by the main family.

He couldn’t send just anyone. It had to be someone who could protect Ricardt to some extent, but such people were in the midst of their busiest time right now.

“There’s a branch of the Beringen Guild in Reinfurt. Alternatively, you could follow another courier heading that way. However, since it’s a long journey, the fee might be a bit…”

The courier suggested. He wouldn’t take Ricardt directly, but he was saying he could arrange it if given some money.

Abelich found the commoner in front of him somewhat unreliable. However, considering the man was affiliated with the Imperial Guild Bureau, which made that part somewhat reliable.

“I’m fine, Father. I’ll follow this courier tomorrow. Whether it’s Billy or me, leaving home is the same for both of us. We can only hope for good fortune.”

Ricardt spoke confidently. Abelich had nothing more to say. No matter how one looked at it, it was ultimately about eliminating sons other than the legitimate heir to complete the succession structure.

The main family had shown interest and funded the costs, and his father had also taken care to a certain extent, so it wouldn’t be right to ask for more.

It was time for both Abelich and Ricardt to firm their resolve.

Abelich opened the drawer of his study desk. He took out something wrapped in cloth and handed it to Ricardt.

“This is something specially commissioned from the main family’s combat forge, not the local blacksmith. Take it with you.”

Just as he had given a shield to Vilter, he had something for Ricardt as well.

When Ricardt received it and unwrapped the cloth, it was a dagger.

“It’s made by melting down the spearhead you used to kill the wild boar. Luck favors those who take action, not just those who just talk about it. I hope the luck that was with you continues to follow you.”

Ricardt drew the dagger. It was a bit wider and longer than an ordinary dagger.

As he sheathed it again and wrapped it in cloth, Ricardt said, with a smile spreading across his face:

“It’s not luck, Father.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. I’ll use it well.”

Without saying more, Ricardt tucked the dagger into his bosom.

Early the next morning, Ricardt had a meal and left home following the courier. It was a time when most people were still asleep. His father watched his departing son through the window.

It would be a lie to say there was no regret, but Ricardt tried to keep precious and nostalgic things only in his heart. Unlike Vilter, he never looked back.

On the path he chose to leave, there was no horizon to disappear into.