Chapter 138

Translator: Willia

The Benicio Trading Company put great effort into crafting Ricardt’s equipment, aiming to reduce the remaining balance as much as possible.

It was good for Ricardt to receive well-made gear, the blacksmith was pleased to display his skills without worrying about production costs, and the company could reduce the balance due, so it was a win for everyone.

It amazed Ricardt that even while pursuing individual interests, everyone could be pleased without conflict.

At the same time, he thought he had glimpsed the secret to the peace maintained in Tyujis. So, this is how it could work.

Ricardt had somewhat looked down on the pursuit of personal gain until now, largely influenced by his father, who formed the basis of his identity. Even though Ricardt wasn’t a knight, he valued acting with honor.

However, time was money, and though they had rushed production as much as possible, it still took over a week.

Anyway, once the armor set was completed and he tried it on, a thought came to him. He hadn’t expected it to be this flashy.

Of course, it was faithful to functionality while engraved with masterful craftsmanship throughout.

The armor’s overall design was a mixture of ancient style and northern Viking style.

On the shoulders, a thunder god with bristling beard glared angrily, while the armguards bore an eagle spreading its wings, and the shin guards were engraved with lightning bolts to symbolize speed.

The lower half featured belt armor, with multiple layers of leather straps hanging from a belt, and pieces of metal engraved with rune characters attached, each symbolizing something like bravery, strength, or martial fortune.

The helmet was a nose guard helmet with open ears, featuring stiff red tassels pointing upward like those worn by ancient imperial soldiers.

All of it was plated with gold, gleaming under sunlight, and the cloak and outer robe were lavishly red.

Thankfully, the outer robe covered most of it, otherwise it would’ve been embarrassing to show his face in public.

In addition, he received a tunic made from the finest silk, comfortable and sturdy leather shoes, and tack that protected just the horse’s head and chest with metal plates. For all this, he would receive 80 gold coins as the remaining payment.

He did wonder how much all this would have cost if paid entirely in cash, but in any case, it was a satisfactory outcome for all involved.

Once the transaction was completed smoothly and the contract finalized, the merchant beamed with a smile and said,

“If you had mentioned it earlier, I could have given you a small discount. Hahaha.”

It was a joking remark made after everything had already been finalized. Knowing it was just flattery, Ricardt let it pass.

“It seems we’ll have to wait a few more days for news from Adeloron. I urgently inquired with headquarters, and it appears that the invincible Grantz is rallying alliances. Her Highness the Princess Consort is so merciful and trusted that with the heroes, including the Black Sword, supporting her, there should be no need for concern for the time being.”

The Benicio Trading Company, being essentially a war merchant at its core, seemed quick to obtain news related to war. Still, to refer to her as the Princess Consort, it was almost as if they were gilding Ricardt’s face with gold.

“Though our transaction ends with smiles for now, I hope we do not meet as enemies.”

Ricardt spoke calmly but with an undertone of warning. This was because war merchants tended to side with whichever party offered more money, and could therefore end up supporting the enemy.

“Indeed. Please remember that the Benicio Trading Company is always ready to provide the best goods at the fastest speed whenever you call upon us. With Your Highness’s reputation spreading across the Holy Lands and deserts alike, choosing a side is not difficult for us.”

To them, the protagonist of war was always the best customer. So, unlike the skeptical gaze they had shown when they first met, wondering what kind of man this was, now, the merchant looked at Ricardt with eyes that sparkled as if ready to give him a kiss.

Of course, Ricardt did not take this kind of sweet talk at face value.

Even so, the previous transaction hadn’t been all that bad, and since war merchants were annoying yet always necessary, Ricardt didn’t say anything further. There was no harm in maintaining good relations.

“If your company is still surviving and thriving, then I suppose you’ve chosen the right sides so far. Speak honestly, just like when we first met. Do you think I’ll win, or lose?”

At that, the merchant smiled faintly and said,

“People merely do everything they can. The outcome is decided by God.”

The merchant cleverly avoided giving a direct answer. But he wasn’t wrong, so Ricardt simply let out a quiet laugh.

“I’ll be going. It was a good deal.”

“My name is Paolo. If you ever contact our company and mention my name, I’ll come running immediately.”

Perhaps because he was a potential high-value client, Paolo of the Benicio Trading Company was proactive in presenting himself.

It was no exaggeration, really, merchants often served as private secretaries or treasurers for lords. Whether for the benefit of the company or himself, there was no downside to making a good impression on Ricardt.

“Then wish me martial fortune.”

“I’ve been wishing that from the beginning.”

Ricardt shook his head and mounted his horse.

With his flashy armor, red outer robe and cloak, and now even riding a bright red horse, he looked like the most honorable man in Tyujis, where wealth was equivalent to honor.

Hashim, wearing a turban and dressed like a noble of Salaman, was already mounted and waiting.

Ricardt led a spare horse and exited Tyujis through the ancient triumphal arch.

Tyujis was a place where people of vastly different backgrounds coexisted. He had always thought such a thing was impossible, but here, Ricardt had seen hope.

Hope that everyone could live well together.

As they left Tyujis and switched horses, traveling westward along the coast, they were able to reach the end of the world in just two days without pushing themselves too hard.

Before them spread a vast ocean with no islands, said to be home to Krakens and Dragons who devoured people.

But if one turned their gaze to the north, they could see, far off in the distance, another continent even with the naked eye. It truly was the end of the world.

At the edge of the strait stood a strangely shaped mountain. One side was a sheer vertical cliff, while the other looked as though it had been neatly sliced at an angle with a blade. It resembled a block of cheese.

People called them the Two Pillars Supporting the World. Neither was particularly massive.

Anyway, the edges of both continents, facing each other, had naturally developed into cities.

Sinatria had no overwhelmingly dominant power, being divided among many factions, so large and small wars were always breaking out, attracting many who did business with them.

In short, one side was the consumer region, and the other the supplier region.

There were always many people trying to cross the strait, so Ricardt and Hashim boarded a ship and crossed it in an instant.

At last, he had set foot on the land where he had been born. Looking back, he could see the lands he had passed through behind him. It gave him a strange, inexplicable feeling.

Something like... even though it was this close, it felt like something he could never reach again, no matter how far he stretched his hand.

“Let’s follow the coastline. The inland is hot, dry, and has a high terrain, but the coast is cool and good for riding.”

Hashim said. He seemed to sense that the journey was nearing its end.

In fact, ever since he had obtained the Crystal Flower, his journey to recover his lost memories had essentially ended. Yet the Crystal Flower remained untouched in its glass vial.

He seemed to be deep in thought, but Ricardt didn’t ask. If there was anything he had learned from Hashim, it was many things, but one thing was clear: that Mages weren’t so unsettling after all.

“Let’s go.”

Ricardt said.

It had been exactly twenty days since departing from Adeloron. The sun was warm, and the breeze was cool. That was the end of the world.

The eastern shores of Sinatria were truly the most beautiful beaches in the world. Pure white, fine sand was spread across them, and the sea was emerald green.

But as they headed further north, they came across people burdened with heavy packs, traveling southward. They were none other than refugees fleeing the war.

They mostly resembled Tyujis people in appearance, and there were also some Franken among them. They looked up at Ricardt, who was excessively armed in flashy gear, with eyes full of fear.

The contrast between them was so stark that it seemed as if they weren’t even the same species.

The beautiful waves crashing onto the shore looked like comforting hands, but they never reached the people.

Ricardt had his helmet and spear hung on the saddle, and with his face exposed, he simply looked at them.

The refugees moved southward in scattered groups, as if breaking apart in chunks. No matter how far north they traveled, those people continued to appear endlessly, like tears being shed.

Ricardt made eye contact with a pure, innocent baby in its mother’s arms. Thinking about the future that lay ahead for that child, he couldn't bring himself to smile thoughtlessly.

But as they continued heading north, they eventually encountered a group of mounted men.

They were scanning the refugees closely, and it was clear, they were looking for pretty women or people carrying something worth taking.

When they spotted Ricardt from afar, they stopped their horses. Tilting their heads, they seemed to study him carefully.

While some stayed put, one man rode forward. He wore chainmail underneath, layered with fabric in Salaman style, and wore a slightly elongated helmet.

He looked between Ricardt and Hashim, then spoke.

"Who might you be and from where?"

“I am Ricardt from Stormhertz. I’ve come from Adeloron, where war is raging, to request support from the Order of the Flame Knights.”

As always, Ricardt’s honest words were hard to believe from the other person’s perspective. Not without reason, Adeloron and Sinatria were at opposite ends of the Empire.

To people unfamiliar with it, Adeloron was a place they didn’t even know existed, or had never heard of before.

“Are you a knight of the Empire?”

“I’m not a knight, but there’s no harm in seeing me as one.”

“Is that so? Seems the Franken’s Empire lets anyone call themselves a knight? Still, that’s a fine horse you’ve got. I’ve never seen such a bright red horse. Mind if we take a ride?”

He was clearly testing the waters. Ricardt recognized that kind of probing behavior all too well. Is this guy easy prey or not? Is he all show, or is there substance behind the flash?

Ricardt inhaled through his nose and said,

"If you're thinking of testing me, give it up. By the way, who are you?"

“We’re knights of Valencia. We serve Amir. Meaning, you’re a foreigner on this land. Got it?”

“And so?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’? Don’t you see my comrades behind me? Seems you don’t understand what I’m saying.”

“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. If you’re going to test me, do it with your life. If not, get lost."

Ricardt warned him coldly, glaring.

The man chuckled quietly, then said,

“We’ll see.”

Then he signaled with hand gestures toward his comrades. After that, he turned his horse away to put distance between himself and Ricardt.

Multiple horses started moving quickly from near and far, their hoofbeats echoing noisily, da-dak, da-dak. Then they drew their weapons.

They twirled spears, curved swords, and ropes with weights on the end in circles.

As the situation unfolded, Ricardt grabbed his spear and charged straight forward. Hashim rode to protect the people, heading in that direction. The refugees on their escape halted and turned to watch.

Three Salaman knights charged toward Ricardt, and the one who had been testing him earlier circled around from the side to attack again.

But they realized too late just how fast the red horse was. In mounted combat, timing was everything, and they had lost the initiative.

Ricardt, charging like an arrow atop the red horse, leaned his upper body forward, pulling the spear tightly to his side and aiming it straight ahead.

It was a fine horse, but more than that, Ricardt had lifted slightly from the saddle and firmly held on using only the strength of his thighs, keeping the spearhead perfectly steady.

Clip-clop! Clip-clop! Clip-clop! Clip-clop!

“Argh!”

Thud!

In the blink of an eye, the man on the far left had his chest pierced by the spear and was flung backward. His riderless horse continued to charge forward.

The two remaining men, startled, turned around, only to see, unbelievably, a blade flash right before one of their eyes. Ricardt had already changed direction and was right behind them.

Splack!

The man’s helmet split along with his head, and the one holding the rope with the weight panicked, flailing his arms as he dropped it. So terrified, he couldn’t even defend himself properly.

Ricardt’s sword, having just split one head open, didn’t lose any momentum. It sliced right through the man’s body and cleaved his head. In other words, he had killed two men with a single strike.

Thud!

The headless body kept riding forward on horseback, while the severed head fell to the ground and rolled violently.

The knight who had provoked Ricardt earlier and charged in from the side saw this and gasped in horror, hurriedly pulling his reins.

Even exceptional skill has its limits, but he had never imagined it would be this extreme. That’s why things had turned out this way.

Moreover, mounted fighters always harbored one unconscious assumption: that they could escape at any time if they ran. Because they were on horseback.

But before that man could flee too far, Ricardt, with a deft motion, cleanly sheathed his sword, rushed over to the man he had killed with a spear to the chest, yanked the spear free, and threw it without hesitation.

The spear curved in a shallow arc, shooting nearly in a straight line, and pierced the back of the man who had just turned to flee.

Thud!

"Argh!"

The force of the spear caused his body to fold forward, and he fell pathetically from his horse.

Ricardt had dealt with four Salaman knights in the blink of an eye, and his breathing wasn’t even heavy. He simply looked around the slightly messy scene with ease.

Quick-witted Hashim was in the process of collecting the two riderless horses.

When Ricardt looked back at the refugees, they were all standing with their mouths agape, staring blankly at him.

Hashim said to Ricardt,

“In hard times, the flies always gather.”

“I know. All too well.”

Ricardt approached the man who had died with the spear still in his back and pulled it out again. The spear was well made, no bends, and the tip was still sharp. There was blood on it, but that could be wiped off.

Leaving the scene behind, Ricardt took only the two horses and continued north along the coastline.

But then, the refugees began to follow. At first, it was just those who had witnessed the astonishing sight, but later, as others saw people following, they joined in without even thinking.

In hard times, flies may swarm, but heroes are born as well.

And people always knew how to recognize a hero. After all, stars shine brightest in the darkest nights.

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