Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Chapter 86

It was like a light cutting through the darkness. Such was the sword of a Sword Master. As though slicing away a strip of the night, its violet flash shone vividly without being either bright or dim.

"Oh..."

Rickart, camping outdoors beside a bonfire for the first time in a while, sat shoulder to shoulder with Marie and marveled at her sword.

Truthfully, he was impressed not because it was extraordinary, but simply because he found it fascinating. As the first Sword Master, he had once made golden flames rise from his own blade in his previous life. Even so, it was fascinating to see a Sword Master again after so long—especially someone so close to him.

Marie shyly extinguished the light and sheathed her sword again.

"How does it feel?"

"I’m not sure. It just feels like... why didn’t I know about this until now? It’s as if I was born with an extra limb but never realized it until now."

"So even though you’ve become a Sword Master, you don’t know what happens next?"

"Mm."

"Then it’s just a really sharp sword."

"Yes. I think so too."

Rickart and Marie seemed to regard becoming a Sword Master as nothing particularly remarkable. But perhaps, looked at another way, the rest of the world simply overestimated Sword Masters.

Sword Masters still grew hungry and tired. They were made of flesh and bone, could be wounded by blades, and could die like anyone else.

Nevertheless, people considered them extraordinary for two reasons.

The first was that swords were difficult to use on the battlefield in an age when the quality of iron was inconsistent. It was common for a sword to break after only one or two swings, so most were carried as secondary weapons.

In such an environment, possessing a sword that could cut through armor and shields as easily as cheese was already an absurdly powerful ability.

The second reason was that one man had left behind an outrageously powerful precedent.

That man was Ricky, the first Sword Master.

Those who had witnessed Ricky’s exploits came to a vague conclusion.

Ah, so becoming a Sword Master means you can defeat the Emperor’s elite army by yourself and become invincible.

But if someone traveled back in time and asked that version of Ricky how he had become so powerful, he might have answered like this:

"I think it’s important to know how to use yourself as a piece on the board. If you can read the entire battlefield and deploy yourself properly, couldn’t you demonstrate tremendous power even without being a Sword Master? But if a Sword Master does that? At that point, one person can practically rival an entire army."

"That makes it sound as though becoming a Sword Master is only the beginning."

"First: What is your objective? Second: How will you achieve victory? Third: How will you fight? It might sound obvious, but I’ve hardly ever seen anyone properly understand those principles and put them into practice. Except for Caldebert."

"What?"

Marie was puzzled by the unfamiliar name. Strictly speaking, it was not that she had never heard the name before. She simply did not realize that the Caldebert Rickart had mentioned was the heroic knight who had lived more than a century ago.

"Ah, he’s someone I know. Anyway, everything begins with those three principles. First, what is our objective?"

"To kill Lucky Luiginant."

"And then?"

"How will we achieve victory? Hmm... Shouldn’t we cut off his head?"

"No, that’s not it. You have to think about your opponent. First of all, this man is an outsider. Even if he has gathered troops, he can’t have that many, and their discipline is probably terrible. Besides, do you think the men following him feel any loyalty toward him?"

Rickart spoke like a teacher. When he talked about swordsmanship, he was so vague and abstract that understanding him was difficult, but this explanation was clear enough.

Marie therefore listened with complete concentration.

"No."

"Then we probably won’t need to fight every soldier he has gathered. Men who assemble easily scatter just as easily."

"So what do we do?"

"That is the second question: How will we achieve victory? Always remember this. Begin with observation, no matter what you’re doing. It doesn’t matter how numerous or powerful your opponents are. Observe them first. Obtain as much information as possible, quickly and accurately. You’ll improve with practice."

Marie stared at her fiancé after hearing his detailed explanation.

"...Professor, how do you know all this?"

"Who knows?"

"By the way, how is your chest?"

"The same. It hurts when I take a deep breath."

"Are you sure you don’t need to visit that Doctor Reno?"

"I’d rather not stop by the main estate."

"Why?"

"It would just be uncomfortable. Besides, he isn’t a physician. He’s merely a scholar. It would be better to ask an actual physician later."

Marie stared intently at Rickart once again. This time, there was something slightly different about her gaze. Rickart could read what she was thinking from her expression.

Marie still wanted him to see Doctor Reno. But would this stubborn man listen even if she told him so? Bringing it up here might only lead to an argument.

Marie knew that, and Rickart knew it too. An awkward silence followed.

"Fine. We’ll stop by briefly once this is over."

Marie grinned.

"Your father told you to go. I’m not forcing you."

"Yes, yes."

Rickart nodded to show that he understood.

Still, did he truly feel no concern despite being in poor health? Moreover, they were on their way to kill a man who had been swindling and threatening noble lords.

Beyond mere recklessness, it was genuinely astonishing. How could anyone be like this?

But Marie liked that side of Rickart.

An ordinary person would have made a tremendous fuss, become discouraged, and fallen into despair. Rickart simply continued as calmly as ever.

It made her think that not even misfortune could torment him.

Marie naturally nestled into Rickart’s embrace and said something contrary to the happiness she currently felt.

"Idiot."

"Why all of a sudden?"

"Idiot."

"Well, yes. I suppose I might be."

Rickart embraced her in return. It was a cold autumn night, but with the fire warming them and their bodies pressed together, they had no opportunity to feel the chill.

Because Luiginant had been traveling from village to village, threatening and swindling people everywhere, discovering his location was not difficult.

He was on the road leading north toward Rheinfort from the County of Kaldevern. It was not the same route Rickart had traveled with Arno three years earlier. Back then, they had taken a side road. This was a well-traveled main road.

Something resembling a checkpoint stood brazenly at an intersection. Two mercenaries guarded it while leaning on their halberds. After surveying the area, Rickart spoke to Marie .

"Let’s climb up there."

Rickart climbed a mountain path overgrown with small branches. Once they had ascended far enough, they could see the checkpoint and what appeared to be a temporary outpost behind it.

After observing the place for roughly ten seconds, Rickart questioned Marie like a master teaching his disciple.

"What do you see?"

"Hmm... There are only seven or eight of them. I could deal with them by myself."

"Now, now. You can’t keep rushing into fights just because you trust your skill with a sword. Look more carefully."

"Hmm... They look clean, they’re wearing colorful clothing, they’re well armed, and... is that man their leader?"

Marie had never experienced a real battle, so it was understandable that she did not know. Rickart pointed with his hand and explained each detail.

"The colorful clothing means they’re mercenaries. It also means they can possess considerable fighting power when enough of them gather. Mercenaries enjoy dressing themselves up, but once they enter battle, it doesn’t take long for them to start looking like beggars. In other words, if they look like beggars but keep their weapons well maintained, they’re dangerous. But these men?"

"They look far too clean."

"Exactly. That means they don’t particularly want to fight. They’re only clinging to Luiginant so they can make some quick money and disappear. Understand?"

This was knowledge that could only be acquired through an extraordinary amount of real combat experience.

Rickart asked another question.

"What else?"

"Can’t you just tell me?"

"Think carefully, Marie ."

"What am I supposed to do if I don’t know...?"

"Seven or eight grown men consume a considerable amount of food each day. They’re obviously not farming up there, so what else could they be doing? From what I can tell, they probably bring a small amount of food and work in shifts. There’s a city nearby. Besides, it makes no sense for them to threaten lords with so few men."

"Now that you mention it, you’re right."

"It’s harvest season, so people are selling surplus food and trade is flourishing. If they block the road there and collect tolls, they can make a tidy profit. But did you know that mercenaries don’t pursue money alone?"

"Really? Then what do they pursue?"

"Money is still the biggest reason, but they’re extremely sensitive to the political standing of the person they follow. What I mean is that even if they have to fight, they need to know there won’t be consequences afterward. They can’t afford to become rebels. If they do, it won’t end with them simply withdrawing from the war. They’ll be pursued to the bitter end and brutally executed."

Marie merely nodded as though she understood, but she could not imagine how they might take advantage of that.

"Let’s become lawkeepers."

"Hmm?"

"We’ll claim to be official lawkeepers dispatched by the imperial court. That will naturally make Luiginant an impostor. He dared to impersonate an imperial lawkeeper? What is the punishment for that?"

"Anyone who forges imperial documents or impersonates an imperial official is sentenced to dismemberment."

Even without involving the imperial court, anyone who recklessly impersonated an official could be punished by having all four limbs torn from their body. Marie had frequently witnessed such cases as a child.

"But will they believe us?"

"We can show them your sword."

"What?"

"You’re a Sword Master, and your sword glows. We’ll say you’re the new Emperor’s champion and that I’m your bodyguard."

"Uh..."

Marie had no particular sense of authority or superiority, but she was uncertain whether a Sword Master’s sword should be used for something like this.

Still, Ricky wanted to do it.

"I don’t even need to draw my sword to kill a bastard like that. Let’s go."

Rickart descended the mountain path again. With his sword hanging from his waist, he strode confidently toward the fraudulent checkpoint.

The mercenaries, who had been standing idly with their halberds resting against their shoulders, turned to look at him.

They immediately declared:

"The toll is half of everything you have."

It was utter nonsense.

Just as expected, they were nothing more than highway robbers.

Rickart deliberately widened his eyes and roared:

"Hold it, you scoundrels! Do you know who I am? I am a lawkeeper dispatched by the Emperor! So you are the ones disturbing the peace in this region!"

When Rickart shouted, the mercenaries blinked. They did not immediately adopt a submissive attitude, instead carefully examining his appearance.

"I heard the Emperor was dead..."

"Insolence! When the previous Emperor passes away, it is only natural that the Crown Prince should ascend the throne! How dare you speak so casually of His Majesty’s passing? This will not do! Champion!"

Unaware that Bellator had killed the Crown Prince, Rickart shouted with complete confidence. Of course, no one present knew that fact either.

Marie continued wondering whether this was really all right, but she drew her sword and made it radiate light.

Only then did the mercenaries’ eyes widen.

A Sword Master.

She had to be the Emperor’s champion.

But wasn’t she a young woman? How had this happened?

"You are guilty of insulting His Imperial Majesty! You are also guilty of following a man who impersonated me! Champion, behead these traitors!"

"W-Wait! We didn’t recognize you!"

"Please wait! We didn’t know! We swear!"

"We thought he was a real lawkeeper! We were only hired! We never intended to rebel against the imperial family!"

At Rickart’s thunderous command, the mercenaries immediately dropped their weapons, fell to their knees, and bowed their heads.

Ah, the taste of authority really was sweet.

But when Marie actually moved to behead them, Rickart hurriedly grabbed her sleeve and rapidly shook his head, signaling that she should not really kill them.

Frowning, Rickart pretended to consider the matter before speaking.

"Hmm... Very well. Since the new Emperor has only recently ascended the throne, shedding too much blood would be inauspicious."

"Of course! God would surely prefer the blood of virgins or lambs as an offering, not the blood of filthy men like us!"

Rickart had no idea what kind of ridiculous nonsense that was. In any case, he intended to have them lead him to Luiginant.

"However, I cannot allow an impostor to go unpunished. You will guide me to him. He must be captured, torn limb from limb, and killed. And remove these crude structures."

"Understood! We obey!"

Believing they had narrowly escaped death, the mercenaries sprang energetically to their feet. They dismantled the temporary outpost and roadblock with such enthusiasm that they practically smashed them apart.

Then, taking up their weapons, they escorted Rickart and Marie toward the city. Perhaps they had experience guarding high-ranking nobles or wealthy merchants, because they formed a reasonably proper formation around them on every side.

With unusually crisp movements and gallant postures, they guarded the Emperor’s lawkeeper.

There was no need to go this far, but their behavior made even Rickart hold his head a little higher.

When they entered the city like that, every passerby turned to stare. At a glance, Rickart appeared to be someone of considerable importance.

The other mercenaries were scattered throughout the city, harassing local women or indulging in revelry. But when they suddenly saw their comrades solemnly escorting someone, an ominous feeling came over them.

They sensed that something had gone terribly wrong.

Because mercenaries were sensitive to matters of life and death, they possessed an almost supernatural instinct for such things.

Some instantly sobered up, while others released the local women they had been tormenting. They either hid or hurried over to join the formation and pretend they had been part of the escort all along.

Upon reaching the largest tavern in the city, a halberd-wielding mercenary opened the door for Rickart. The smells of perfume and alcohol immediately washed over his face.

Inside, Rickart saw a man throwing money around like water, intoxicated by gambling and women.

One glance was enough to tell him that this had to be Luiginant.

"I’m telling you, stupidity doesn’t discriminate by status! The problem is that everyone assumes nobles know everything. In reality, they’re careless and stupid. Idiots."

Having successfully swindled people throughout the region, Luiginant apparently thought he had become someone important. He loudly showed off what little he knew.

The people around Luiginant noticed Rickart and the mercenaries, and their expressions stiffened in alarm.

"When I was in the west, I must have slept with at least ten noble ladies! But then—"

Luiginant was the last person to notice the change in atmosphere. Following everyone else’s gazes, he slowly turned his head.

He found a sword-wearing young man and woman standing there, accompanied by the mercenaries who had been serving him. All of them were staring directly at him.

Rickart smiled faintly when he saw Luiginant. He slowly approached, pulled over a chair, sat down beside him, and spoke.

"Ah... Luiginant. Did you find nobles that easy to fool? I’d like to hear more."

"Uh... Who are you...?"

"An imperial lawkeeper."

"...But the Emperor should be dead..."

"Yes, he is. His death is one matter, and yours is another. But depending on how you behave, I might spare you."

The tavern fell as silent as the grave.

Luiginant looked around once more. Seeing the mercenaries’ grim expressions, he realized that something had gone wrong and that they had already turned against him.

The nobles should not have been able to respond this quickly. They lacked the ability to do so.

By the time the local lords gathered armies to confront him, he had planned to take the money and flee. Luiginant was skilled at such things.

But just when matters were beginning to go well, he had never expected such a rapid response. The Emperor had barely been dead for any time at all, yet they had already dispatched a lawkeeper?

Luiginant looked at Rickart again.

"Wh-What do you...?"

"Your backers and the money."

"B-Backers? There are none. And as for the money..."

"Is it too precious to surrender? Then die."

"N-No! Wait! The money is... it’s in the vault of the Rheinfort Goldsmiths’ Guild. First, we should go there..."

One look into Luiginant’s eyes told Rickart that he was lying.

There was no money.

He had already spent all of it on revelry.

Rickart briefly considered what to do, then nodded as though he understood.

"Very well. I’ll wait here, so go and retrieve the money. If you flee, I will pursue you to the ends of the earth."

"Of course! Of course! I’ll retrieve the money and return without fail!"

Believing that he had survived, Luiginant scrambled to his feet and hurried out of the tavern, where an oppressive silence had settled.

Rickart addressed the mercenaries.

"Capture that man, tear him limb from limb, and then cut off his head. Display each piece of his body in front of a city gate and send his head to Stormherz. Do that, and you will be pardoned."

The moment he finished speaking, the mercenaries rushed outside.

Rickart surveyed the half-eaten food spread across the tables, picked up a cup, and took a sip of the expensive liquor.

Then he calmly addressed the tavern keeper.

"Refund whatever remains."

"Pardon?"

"The food has not been finished."

"Ah... Y-Yes. Understood."

"And since the women’s services were never used, return those payments as well."

Rather than calculating a refund, the tavern keeper simply brought Rickart all the money Luiginant had spent there that day.

It amounted to ten gold coins.

Money spent on pleasure had a way of leaking away like water once a person started indulging.

Rickart also gathered all the coins that had been scattered across the tables for gambling.

The customers merely held their breath and watched the imperial lawkeeper. They hoped he would take all the money—or whatever else he wanted—and leave as quickly as possible.

Around then, a scream came from outside.

"Why? Why?! I told you I’d bring back the money! Wait! I-I—aaaaaargh!"

Listening to Luiginant’s dying screams, Rickart helped himself to the remaining food.

Apparently finding it unpalatable, he slammed a chicken bone onto the table and rose from his seat. The people watching in silence flinched in alarm.

When he stepped outside, he saw the mercenaries hanging pieces of Luiginant’s dismembered body from poles.

"We’ll place the head in a sack of salt and deliver it."

One of the mercenaries approached and reported this to him. The man was remarkably professional, as though he had done such work many times before.

Mercenaries possessed a thuggish side, but they were also professionals. Once they committed to a task, they carried it out thoroughly.

They were simply expensive and difficult to control.

Rickart stopped by the Imperial Guild Office and sent the money he had taken from the tavern back to his hometown. It was not an enormous sum, but it was more than enough to compensate for the family’s losses.

Then he quietly left the city with Marie and headed for the main estate to meet Doctor Reno.

"You really killed him without even drawing your sword."

Marie had been somewhat concerned because Rickart was in poor health, but he had resolved everything without lifting a finger.

"Intelligent people are often good at understanding others but know surprisingly little about themselves. That man said nobles were careless, but he failed to realize that he was careless too. The world must have seemed easy to him. That’s how a person’s luck finally runs out."

"There really is nothing you don’t know, Professor."

"This is only the beginning, my disciple. Devote yourself to your studies."

He said it half in jest, but it was true.

If Marie , now a Sword Master, learned Rickart’s strategies, tactics, combat knowledge, abilities, and techniques, she might truly become as invincible as Ricky had been in his previous life.

The Sword Masters Rickart had defeated in the past—as well as those who still lived—had never transcended the limitations of mere swordsmen.

There was no way to transform oneself into a true instrument of war except by surviving countless battles. The problem was that one could easily die while accumulating that experience.

That was why knowledge passed down by an experienced warrior was more precious than gold.

Marie , however, merely smiled mischievously and continued teasing him.

"I don’t want to."

"Hmm?"

One was an excellent disciple. The other was an undisciplined disciple. Yet it was impossible to say which approach was correct—faithfully following his teachings or simply making jokes.

In truth, when examined closely, many of Rickart’s lessons were horrifying enough to send chills down one’s spine. Of course, how that knowledge was used depended entirely on the person learning it.

As they walked together, Marie playfully bumped Rickart with her shoulder again and again.

She was an exceedingly impudent disciple who never stopped flirting with her teacher.

Chapter 17—Back in My Hometown, End

"Ricky can do everything for me."

Marie spoke teasingly with a smile, and Rickart laughed as well.

"What a hopeless disciple."

Then again, Bellator could also be considered Rickart’s disciple, and he was nothing like Marie .

Following Rickart’s teachings, Bellator had seized the opportunity of a lifetime and committed a bold and magnificent murder.