The Warrior’s Ballad

Chapter 68

Translator: Willia

When anything comes to an end, one tends to look back. Retracing each footstep of the path traveled.

In doing so, things that had gone unnoticed back then could feel new, moments of inadequacy could bring embarrassment, and proud achievements might bring a smile.

Arno, Sandy, Boribori and friends, the enemies met in Griffinswald, senior adventurers, members of other clans, Nameless X, the Ernburg Five, and the war.

Many days and nights passed, bidding farewell to spring, summer, autumn, and the harsh winter. Snow, rain, sorrow, and joy swept by like the wind.

But it wasn’t as though they merely passed like the wind. Although those moments would never return, they had certainly left something behind in his heart.

If there were empty holes somewhere within his heart, it felt as though they had been gradually filled by those experiences. For Ricardt, the academy was a precious place and a memory.

Before he knew it, the wind carried autumn along with it. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, leaves began to fall one by one, and the grass on the fields turned yellow.

Ricardt finished writing ‘The Basics of Swordsmanship’. Now it felt like there was nothing more to remove or add.

But when he looked at Boribori’s book beside him, it was completely different from the one he had written. The difference in quantity alone was overwhelming.

Boribori’s book was incredibly thick, and the translation version was made up of three books that were even thicker.

In contrast, the book Ricardt had written was only about forty pages, making it incredibly thin. Of course, the translation version was fairly thick, but it was still nothing compared to what Boribori had written.

Ricardt quietly looked at the heavily stacked books and said.

“Does writing that much really help? The longer the explanation gets, the more it strays from its essence.”

"That again? We agreed to respect each other's ways. I just want readers to feel at ease when they read it. Besides, I’m still lacking, so I’ll gradually fix it when I get the chance.”

Boribori’s book title had been changed from 'Boribori Sword Technique' to 'The Standard of Swordsmanship'.

It was a book that excluded his unique swordsmanship and explained the basics in great detail. It followed a format that gradually progressed step by step toward more advanced levels.

Seeing that made Ricardt feel uncomfortable deep down, not because it was wrong, but because Boribori’s method seemed to be the right one.

Still, the idea of writing that much felt troublesome, and Ricardt didn’t believe his own way was wrong either. It was simply uncomfortable.

It wasn’t as though he had written little because he hadn’t given it enough thought, or because he’d spent less time working on it.

“By the way, is Marie not coming today either?”

Boribori didn’t mind Ricardt’s occasional grumbling and asked while writing in his book.

“She said she was going to the city this morning.”

Ricardt, resting his chin on his hand, answered while gazing out the window. The autumn fields, turning yellow, seemed somewhat desolate.

“Do you think she’s sad because we’re leaving?”

Boribori had noticed that Marie had been consciously avoiding Ricardt lately. While Ricardt and Boribori were about to graduate, Marie still had one more year left. It was hard to know exactly how she felt, but it was probably stirring up some complex emotions.

"I don't think that's all there is to it."

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t feel like asking about something she wants to keep hidden. In the end, I don’t know what it is either.”

“Hmm... Your feelings for her haven’t changed, right? Marie is really pretty, you know.”

"Being pretty and that are different."

"What is it then?"

"Don't know."

Ricardt didn’t say any more. Even someone whom all students idolized and looked up to apparently had things they didn't want to talk about.

Perhaps the one who carried the biggest scars of all was Ricardt himself. He was simply living on while embracing them.

“What if we don’t even get to see her face before graduation? I’d like to say goodbye, at least. It’d be a shame not to.”

Boribori just wanted everyone in the clan to get along well. Like how he had mediated between Ricardt and Marie when things were awkward between the two.

However, as Boribori grew older and matured, he came to realize how complicated and difficult people’s hearts could be.

Even Ricardt and Boribori’s conversations, when carefully observed, were no longer as immature as they used to be.

But then Ricardt suddenly said, as if trying to change the topic.

“I think I should hide the original.”

“Huh? Why? After all that effort to write it?”

“It's written in ancient text anyway, so no one will understand it. It's like a treasure hunt, that's all.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“You!”

Ricardt, laughing, made a gesture as if he were about to hit Boribori on the head. Boribori also laughed, shrinking away.

Having spent so much time together, Boribori could easily pick up on Ricardt’s desire to hide it.

Anyway, Ricardt eventually hid the completed original version of ‘The Basics of Swordsmanship’ somewhere in the defense tower. Using a dagger, he scraped the dirt from between the bricks, pulled one out, placed the manuscript behind it, and then replaced the brick.

It seemed somewhat pointless to hide it after writing it all, but Ricardt convinced himself that it was just something he did to pass time anyway.

The translation version was placed horizontally on a bookshelf at the back of the second-floor writing lecture room. The shelf’s original purpose wasn’t for books but for stacking scrolls. In the past, this place had been a fortress.

Since printing technology hadn’t yet developed, books had to be made by hand, one at a time. Ricardt’s book was the first to fill the bookshelf.

After placing the book on the shelf and gazing at it for a while, Ricardt finally felt the reality that his work at the academy had come to an end.

He felt a mix of emotions, both refreshing and bittersweet. It was a simultaneous feeling of excitement for the future and regret for what was being left behind.

So Ricardt packed his belongings with Boribori and stayed at the academy waiting for the day they would leave the academy.

In the meantime, he passed the days by joking around with the younger students and supervising their swordsmanship practice.

Then, one day.

“Rock, paper, scissors! Next!”

“Wow!”

Ricardt shouted. With scissors versus paper, Ricardt won, and he cheerfully called out for the next challenger, as if it were only natural.

However, this wasn’t just a simple game of rock-paper-scissors, students had crowded around Ricardt because he was on a 56-game winning streak.

“He won again!”

“How is this even possible?”

The students marveled but were clearly having a great time.

However, from the upper bunk bed, where he was quietly observing, Boribori suddenly remarked.

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“What is?”

“You’re watching their hands. You should do it with your eyes closed.”

Boribori knew that Ricardt was winning because he could quickly pick up on the minute movements of his opponent’s hand.

"It's not really cheating, is it?"

“Wouldn’t it be fairer if you closed your eyes?”

“What, Ricardt, you’ve been watching all along?”

“Ugh, that’s no fun. That’s unfair.”

Thanks to Boribori’s interference, many students walked off, disappointed.

Even though being able to win that way was impressive, the students weren’t interested. After all, they already knew about Ricardt’s abilities, so his winning streak had lost its meaning.

Although Ricardt, who had suddenly become a cheater, felt wronged, he simply laughed it off.

But just how bored must I have been to even be doing this? Ricardt thought as he climbed onto the bed and lay next to Boribori, who was reading an ancient book he had somehow obtained.

“What are you reading?”

“The Heroic Ballad of Ilya the Dragon Slayer.”

“Isn’t that all well-known stuff?”

The story of Ilya the Dragon Slayer was a tale of a hero that had been widely spread since the ancient times before the Empire. It was the sort of legend where it wasn’t clear if the figure had truly existed.

“But when you read it in a book, it’s different. There are things I didn’t know.”

“What didn’t you know?”

“Ilya was born into a poor farming family, and he was a cripple from birth until he was thirty. But one day, when his family hosted a pilgrim, the pilgrim gave them oil, and when Ilya drank it, he sprang to his feet, suddenly filled with immense strength. After that, he swore to become a warrior for the god and set out on adventures. The rest of the story you already know, defeating giants, killing witches, and slaying dragons.”

"So it was typical religious propaganda. I didn’t know there was such a backstory in the beginning.”

“Maybe. But you never know. It even lists the place where Ilya was born and where he died. Maybe one day we’ll have a chance to visit. We might gain some strength.”

Ricardt smirked. He thought Boribori still had a naive side. Still a kid, just a kid.

Anyway, Ricardt kept teasing Boribori, interrupting their reading, exchanging pointless jokes.

After a while, a student called from outside.

“Ricky.”

“Huh?”

“There’s an adventurer looking for you and Boribori. They said to pack your things and come out.”

Ricardt and Boribori both thought the same thing at once: The time has come.

They folded their uniforms neatly on the bed to leave for others, packed up their equipment and luggage, and headed outside. To their surprise, the adventurer who had come for them was none other than Delphi.

“Huh?”

“Surprised, right?”

“What about the branch?”

“I hired a few clerks. Managing the building is pretty easy now.”

Hearing that was a relief, and Ricardt and Boribori couldn’t help but smile. It was good enough that a friend had come all this way to find them. The bittersweet feeling in their hearts seemed to fade away a little.

They walked lightly across the inner courtyard, but then, behind them, Karllich suddenly came running and called out.

“Ricky! Ricky!”

When Ricardt turned around to see what it was, Karllich held a piece of paper in his hand.

“Ricky, take this with you.”

“What is it?”

“Your graduation certificate. I made it. From now on, everyone who graduates will get one. It’s meaningful, you know? It’s so you can be proud of being from Beringen.”

Looking at the document, Ricardt saw there wasn’t much to it. It literally just stated that he was graduating from Beringen Academy. It had been decorated with some gold trim, but overall, it looked quite crude.

“What about mine?”

Boribori asked.

“Unfortunately, Ricky’s the first.”

"Since I'm the second, shouldn't I get one too?"

“Let’s just say you graduated first.”

“...?”

It was absurd, but ultimately not important. The document had no real value or authority, at least not yet.

Ricardt smiled faintly, rolled up the paper, tied it with a string, and packed it into his bag.

“Take care.”

"Don't forget us, Ricky."

"I couldn't forget even if I died. I’m off.”

Ricardt smiled and said his farewell. Karllich didn’t follow but just stood there, watching. Other students also watched Ricardt leave, peeking out from windows or standing at a distance.

Meanwhile, Delphi headed toward the girls’ dormitory and asked a female student passing by. She probably wanted to say goodbye to Marie before leaving.

“Is Marie inside?”

“Huh? Ah, no, she isn’t. She went to the city this morning and hasn’t come back yet.”

“Is that so? Alright, thanks.”

Ricardt, watching from behind, felt a tangle of emotions. Since they were in the same clan, maybe they would meet again someday. Or maybe not. He didn’t know. Depending on how she sorted out her feelings, they might never see each other again. That’s what love was like.

The bittersweet feeling about leaving the academy, which had eased for a while, now weighed heavily on him once again.

They passed through the castle gates and descended the cliffside stairs. Now there was a handrail, so even if they slipped, they wouldn’t fall to the bottom of the cliff.

When they finally descended the cliff, the golden autumn fields stretched before their eyes. Along the roadside, clusters of purple gentian flowers bloomed unusually thick.

The breeze was cool, sometimes bordering on chilly. The three walked along the path.

Then, they spotted a girl standing with her back turned on the road, holding a sword in one hand. It was Marie. Her bright golden hair fluttered in the lonely autumn wind.

“Marie,”

Delphi called out. Marie turned around slowly, without any sign of surprise. Then, she spoke.

"Can I talk to Ricky alone for a moment?"

Delphi and Boribori knew about their situation, so they didn't ask why. They walked past Marie and watched from a distance.

Ricardt, with a sword slung over his shoulder, stood facing her, keeping some distance.

"We'll see each other again, Marie. Don't be too hard on yourself."

“No, that’s not it. I have something to tell you.”

“......”

“My name is Martellia. I’m the thirty second daughter of Emperor Claudius.”

“...I see. I’m Ricardt, the third son of the Caldebern family of Stormhertz. I wasn’t trying to deceive you.”

“Neither was I.”

"Is that what was bothering you? The difference in our social status?"

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I can only truly be free if I defeat you... or seduce you and marry you. Otherwise, I’ll live as the royal family’s puppet until I die. But I like you. What am I supposed to do?”

Marie hadn’t wanted to reveal her secret to anyone in the world, and least of all to Ricardt. Yet, she had chosen to tell him and only him.

To her, this was practically a declaration of surrender. It left her completely exposed and vulnerable. Her heart trembled. Marie's life practically hung on Ricardt's next words.

But the answer was despair itself.

“...I’m sorry.”

Marie’s heart sank at that moment. But it wasn’t as though she hadn’t prepared herself for this. So, she did what she needed to do next.

Marie drew her sword, Ricky. (TL: If you forgot she named the sword Ricky)

“I’m sorry, too. For being selfish. Draw your sword, Ricky.”

Ricardt quietly looked into Marie's blue eyes and said.

“You’ll regret this.”

"Even if I regret it, I have no choice."

"Alright......"

Ricardt set down his bag and unsheathed the sword slung over his shoulder. Taking his stance, he faced her.

Delphi and Boribori didn’t stop them, merely watching from afar.

For some reason, it felt like one of them might die. What should I do? Boribori closed his eyes tightly, while Delphi continued to watch calmly.

The autumn wind blew. The sound of the fields rustling filled the air.

Then, suddenly, Ricardt’s gaze sharpened, filled with killing intent. At that moment, Marie instinctively sprang forward, as if charging to her death.

But Ricardt’s sword did not swing. He stood there quietly with open eyes. Marie’s blade stopped at Ricardt’s arm. In the end, she couldn’t cut him. The tip of her sword trembled violently.

But Ricardt didn’t stop there. Suddenly, he grabbed Marie’s sword with his bare hand and brought the blade to his own heart.

“Not there. Here.”

He then pressed the blade toward his chest, trying to stab himself. Marie, startled, tried to pull the sword back, but Ricardt gripped the blade tightly, refusing to let go. Blood trickled from his hand. Even as the blade pierced through his coat, inching closer to his heart, he didn’t waver.

Marie completely lost her composure in that moment, not knowing what to do. If she used mana to pull the sword back, Ricardt’s fingers would be severed. But if she let him guide it, it felt like he would truly stab his own heart.

Even amidst all this, Ricardt’s hazel eyes remained unshaken, calm to a degree that was cruel.

Marie looked back and forth between her sword and Ricardt, her expression as if she were on the verge of tears. The boy had once told her that he could die for her. That had never been a lie.

In the end, Marie pleaded.

“P-please, stop. Just stop. I’m begging you.”

At that, Ricardt finally let go of the sword. Blood dripped from his hand. Marie’s strength gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground. Her gaze was vacant, staring blankly at the earth.

Ricardt spoke gently, as if placing a flower atop her head.

“I told you you’d regret it...”

Then, he sheathed his sword, gathered his things, and walked past her. It might have seemed heartless, but this was the best he could do.

Boribori hurried over, grabbed Ricardt’s hand, and treated it. The injury wasn’t too severe.

Right now, though, Marie was far more concerning than Ricardt’s wound. Yet no one could approach her.

Marie sat there like a stone statue. Ricardt’s chest ached as well, but it was time to leave. So he walked on without looking back.

The lonely autumn wind blowing across the fields sounded like the crashing of waves.

Chapter 13 - Graduation. End.