Chapter 104

Chapter 104

***

"They say they're Bori's disciples."

Rickart pointed his thumb backward at the boy and girl as he spoke.

At that, Marie, who had been resting her hand coolly on her sword hilt with her weight shifted to one leg while coldly observing the strangers, widened her eyes.

Blatter looked surprised, while the others naturally had completely bewildered expressions.

"Bori has disciples?"

"Did I not mention it?"

"No, I mean, how can he teach anyone anything?"

"I think Bori's more than capable..."

"No, no, that's not what I mean."

There seemed to be a slight miscommunication between Rickart and Marie.

Marie simply meant that Bori's swordsmanship was so incredibly peculiar and unique that it wasn't something easily taught to others.

Regardless, that wasn't important right now. Rickart turned back to the boy and girl and introduced Marie.

"This is my wife, Marie. This is Senior Blatter. An alumnus of Beringen Academy. He used to be a fellow adventurer in my old guild. This is our guide Bremen, and..."

While introducing Marie, Rickart went ahead and introduced everyone else as well. The Hartmann family, Dalia and her son, and the four siblings.

However, the boy and girl kept their mouths glued shut for a long time as if deeply shy before finally revealing their names.

"...Caspar."

"I'm Yulia. But, are you really Ricky?"

"Can't believe it? I believed you when you said you were Bori's disciples."

Rickart replied with a laugh. The boy named Caspar averted his gaze as he spoke.

"I guess we'll see."

Skeptical, it seemed. But it didn't matter.

"Did Bori ever talk about me?"

When Rickart asked, Yulia glanced at the boy beside her before answering. Though they tried not to show it, the two of them still seemed overwhelmed by the situation.

"There is no genius in this world. Other than Ricky. That's what he said."

"Is that all?"

"Our master rarely talks about personal matters with us."

"He didn't mention me?"

Marie cut in and asked. Knowing her eccentric friend was nurturing disciples seemed fascinating, and she visibly expected something.

"He said someone wielded the most masculine sword among us..."

"Huh?"

Marie was utterly bewildered by the unexpected assessment. However, Rickart had a pretty good idea what that meant.

Bori possessed his own uniquely independent swordsmanship, Ice was characterized by precise, calculated strikes, while Marie was incredibly straightforward, and depending on the situation, explosive.

In short, rather than relying on subtle variations, her style physically overpowered opponents through sheer speed and crushing force. And that foundation belonged to the Kelbron family's swordsmanship developed by Helauman.

Seen in a certain light, compared to the 'unorthodox' trio, Marie's sword was the only one with a clearly established lineage.

"Anyway, it's really fascinating. Bori nurturing disciples. Maybe we should have taken on a disciple ourselves?"

"You said you had no talent for teaching."

"I could just teach them. With your help, Ricky."

"Shouldn't we focus on raising our own child first before worrying about that? Speaking of, did Bori... ever get married?"

Rickart asked, looking toward Caspar and Yulia. The two shook their heads.

"Does he have any other disciples besides you two?"

"There are many disciples in the clan, but only four direct disciples of our master. We are two of them. You have to possess the talent to reach Sword Master to become a direct disciple."

The Viola Clan had a hierarchical system of sorts—apprentices, squires, trainees, and finally direct disciples.

The boy and girl standing before them were personally trained by Bori, a current Sword Master, in recognition of their exceptional talent.

"But don't you have to learn Ancient Text to learn Bori's swordsmanship? Studying that is extremely boring."

"Ancient Text?"

"Yeah, he uses his sword to write them out."

"We don't know. We've never seen that. Our master has simply reached the absolute pinnacle of the sword. He always claims he was the most lacking among the Four Swords, but we just consider that humility."

Never seen it? Rickart and Marie exchanged confused looks. When you thought of Bori, you immediately pictured his sword drawing letters in the air. Yet they had never seen it?

It seemed there was a cognitive dissonance between the people who fought directly alongside him and those who merely learned from him. Or perhaps he never properly displayed his personal swordsmanship in front of his students?

"Anyway, it's nice to meet you. Really brings back memories. Bori and I used to joke about raising disciples and having them duel to see who would win. Sadly, I don't have any disciples. Nobody ever seemed to understand what I was trying to teach them."

"Like I said, Ricky, you simply possess zero talent for teaching..."

"No, I think my explanations were perfectly easy to understand."

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt your conversation, but what exactly should we do now?"

Since the four of them seemed intent on chatting casually, Bremen hesitantly interjected. What was important right now was deciding whether they should continue moving forward or not.

According to Caspar and Yulia, moving forward was dangerous everywhere.

"Let's hear them explain the situation first. The east being problematic is due to the war."

Rickart said. His reasoning was sound; only by understanding the reality could they develop any sort of countermeasure.

Caspar and Yulia quietly stared at this ragtag assembly of people before speaking.

"This area is currently controlled by the Ringwald Sword Brotherhood. The leader used to be an Adventurer Guild Master, but we aren't certain. Either way, he claims to have succession rights over to this Rothheim territory, so he murdered the lord's entire family. Since then, he's raised taxes and strictly enforced territorial laws under the guise of establishing discipline. Anyone drinking alcohol, failing to pay taxes on time, failing to show loyalty, or acting suspiciously is executed without exception."

Yulia spoke while gesturing toward the distant hanging tree. It seemed those bodies were the result of stringently enforcing those territorial laws.

Naturally, enacting and enforcing laws when one wasn't a legitimate lord made absolutely zero sense.

However, while others trembled with fear at the sight of the hanging tree, Rickart saw right through Ringwald's hysterical paranoia.

The man was terrified. His position was unstable, and he feared someone might inflict the exact same fate entirely upon him.

"I bet the toll fees are ridiculously high then."

Marie asked. Yulia wordlessly nodded. In essence, the road was completely blocked.

Although it was an open field, one might wonder if they even needed to follow the road. However, they were forced to pass through a gorge acting as the territory's natural border anyway, funneling them straight into the toll.

The group's expressions grew grim. After all, the east was a living hellscape spawned by a prolonged war. And here, they executed anyone acting suspiciously, meaning they were practically dead the moment they were spotted.

Staying in Wertheim briefly to wait things out was also difficult since they lacked the necessary funds. Should they try finding work there?

Everyone's faces reflected deep worry and distress. In Marie's case, she'd simply do whatever Rickart wanted, while Caspar and Yulia watched Rickart as if observing an experiment.

"Why is everyone looking so grim?"

Rickart addressed the group.

"It's infinitely better than being ambushed. Since we know the danger beforehand, we just have to act accordingly. For now, let's set up camp."

Saying that, he headed straight for the village.

Bremen panicked and tried to stop him. Since anyone acting suspiciously was supposedly executed without mercy, walking openly into the village was incredibly dangerous.

"E-Excuse me, where are you going?!"

"The village over there."

"W-Won't it be dangerous if we get spotted?"

"If he slaughtered that many people, there are bound to be empty houses. Frankly, the territory borders are far more dangerous. Given how terrified this Ringwald guy is, he'll constantly be running patrols to check for outside forces."

His logic was perfectly sound, but the fact that he made the decision so nonchalantly left Bremen somewhat speechless.

Wondering if this was truly the right call, they followed Rickart into the village. Unsurprisingly, there were plenty of empty houses.

The remaining villagers were emaciated and completely unfazed by the arrival of Rickart's group. They merely stared with hollow, lifeless eyes.

It was atrocious. Because there was no one to protect the commoners.

Ringwald seemed entirely devoid of any sense of duty or responsibility as a lord since the very beginning. Naturally, he also possessed zero economic sense. He was likely just blinded by the glittering allure of a noble title itself.

Now that he had committed the act, he simply didn't know what to do next. Having lived his entire life feeding off the edge of a blade, there was no way he knew how to govern people properly.

Rickart strolled through the modest village before settling on a house with an overgrown, desolate vegetable garden. Peeking inside, he found it completely empty.

"Don't unpack everything so we can leave at a moment's notice. If an emergency occurs, Marie and Senior Blatter will protect everyone here."

He intended to use the house as a makeshift fortress. Protecting a large group while fighting in an open field was incredibly difficult. That was why he suggested coming to the village in the first place.

"You two and I will go check out the territory border. If things go well, we might be able to handle it and pass through today."

In a flash, Rickart assigned specific roles to everyone, then immediately left, casually leaning on his walking stick. His total lack of hesitation made them wonder if this was truly such a simple problem to resolve.

Rickart took Caspar and Yulia and walked toward the territory border. He walked openly, completely uncovered. The boy and girl followed, their expressions still utterly bewildered.

"So, exactly how many decent people have you managed to save?"

Rickart asked abruptly while walking ahead.

"Well, maybe... three or four?"

"There are all sorts of bandits these days. Unlike in the past, many of them have excellent equipment and fight surprisingly well. If there are too many of them, there isn't much we can do."

Despite Rickart not reprimanding them for saving so few, Caspar spoke defensively, sounding almost like he was making excuses.

"Makes sense. I'm sure many adventurers who used to hunt down bounties or take commissions have turned to banditry now. But anyway, is this sort of a training journey? The one Bori ordered you on?"

"Our master told us we could never become Sword Masters simply by practicing sword forms without actual combat experience."

"He's not wrong."

"But did you truly teach our master?"

"It was a joke."

"What?"

"I only taught him a tiny bit at the very beginning. After that, he figured everything out on his own. What's truly incredible about Bori is his absolutely unbreakable spirit. Thinking back on it now, he had every reason to harbor dark thoughts and turn bitter, but he never did."

Rickart thought back to the days Bori was bullied relentlessly in the Academy 'chicken coop'.

He had every right to harbor a grudge, and once he grew strong enough, he could easily have sought revenge. But Bori never did.

Despite enduring a harsh, unforgiving world, he possessed the rare ability to always focus on the brighter side of the world, and the inherent goodness within humanity.

"So why are you two learning the sword?"

"...Well, because it's what we're good at? Because we can become even better?"

"Alright then, work hard at it. People should do what they excel at."

Rickart spoke casually, seemingly indifferent.

However, Caspar and Yulia couldn't simply let it go. This was someone their deeply respected master occasionally admitted was far superior to himself.

Yet, he remained incredibly shrouded in mystery. Of course, the vague, mouth-to-mouth legends passed down about him were undeniably awe-inspiring.

Killing a clan master at a young age, or executing a notoriously vicious Sword Master. Ricky the Severer, The Tiger of Kaits, the Genius Swordsman of Beringen Academy, the Red Cape.

However, actually believing him to be stronger than their master—who was practically the strongest in the Empire right now—was difficult to fathom.

Because of this, they were dying to know. It drove them crazy. They were, after all, individuals who had chosen the path of the sword.

And yet, a seed of doubt remained. Was this really him? Was he perhaps an imposter? Could he truly be THAT strong?

"Actually, it's a bit frustrating."

Caspar suddenly voiced his true feelings.

"What is?"

"Ever since I first held a sword at age seven, I grew up constantly being called a genius. Meeting my master set me straight. But I absolutely refuse to accept the claim that there are no geniuses in the world except Ricky."

Walking slightly ahead, Rickart turned back to look at Caspar. Their eyes locked.

Rickart stared intently with that uniquely piercing gaze that felt like it saw straight through to a person's soul. Ice had once called this piercing gaze entirely unfair.

Caspar was overflowing with the typical youthful arrogance and stubbornness of a child prodigy, and Rickart peered effortlessly past that stubbornness right to his core.

Rickart turned his gaze forward again and spoke.

"Now I can probably guess why Bori said that to you. He's far too kind-hearted to say anything harsh directly."

Even though they hadn't seen each other in four years, Rickart knew exactly what frame of mind had prompted Bori to tell his disciple that.

They had lived together in the wilderness for years, and having shared so many experiences, understanding his mindset wasn't difficult.

The frigid winters, refreshing springs, sweltering summers, and cool autumns spent alongside Bori flashed vividly through Rickart's mind.

However, Caspar, completely ignorant of those shared experiences, frowned deeply.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your swordsmanship is entirely your own business, but if you want to become a Sword Master, you ultimately have to confront yourself. Marie, Ice, and Bori... I believe all of them reached Sword Master by overcoming their inner selves. Everyone had their own shackles holding them back."

"......"

"Is that why you can't let go of the word 'genius', Caspar?"

"...I don't know what you mean."

"The word 'genius' is nothing but a word. It holds absolutely no substance. Yet you refuse to let it go. Doesn't that just sound like pure stubbornness to you? If we look a bit deeper, it's just a sense of superiority over others. Am I right in assuming you simply enjoy the envy and jealousy directed at you far too much to let it go?"

Rickart's incisive observation caused Caspar's face to flush bright red. He desperately wanted to argue back, but his mouth refused to open.

And so, the conversation died. The three of them walked silently along the path without a word.

The territory border was much further away than anticipated. By the time they drew near, it was late afternoon. Factoring in the return trip, crossing the territory today seemed unlikely.

And exactly as expected, armed men guarded the intersection. They seemed to reside in something resembling an outpost, and their numbers were greater than anticipated. There looked to be at least a dozen of them.

Caspar and Yulia instinctively tried to hide themselves to observe, but Rickart nonchalantly continued walking forward, leaning on his stick perfectly openly.

"H-Hold on. P-Please wait a second."

If he truly was superior to their master, dispatching a dozen thugs with swords would be effortless. But actually witnessing someone blindly waltz right in was undeniably startling.

Rickart stopped ahead of them, turned around, and spoke.

"Didn't you say you were on a training journey?"

"Yes?"

"If you can't even handle a bunch of low-life thugs like that, exactly when do you plan on training?"

"......"

"Don't tell me you walk around wearing swords without the resolve to die for them? Doing it just to look cool. Tsk, tsk, tsk..."

Rickart clicked his tongue disdainfully.

"No, but at least the numbers should be somewhat even. Or we should launch a surprise attack..."

"Bori must be teaching his kids by coddling the life out of them. They're old enough to know better. Oh, forgive me, we have absolute GENIUSES here. Unbelievable."

Rickart turned his head away dramatically, visibly displaying his disappointment. Then, he continued walking toward the intersection all by himself.

Spurred by a sudden surge of pride, Caspar quickly chased after him.

"C-Caspar!"

Flustered, Yulia scrambled after him without thinking twice.

As the three sword-bearing figures approached, the guards at the outpost casually drew their weapons while still shooting the breeze. A few headed toward the outpost to alert the others.

Rickart walked straight up to them with a completely deadpan expression and asked:

"What's the toll fee?"

A man who had already drawn his sword to create an intimidating atmosphere responded immediately.

"One gold coin per head."

"In order to make money, you need to temper your greed. Eating too much at once will choke you."

"What did you say?"

"These two here decided they absolutely cannot tolerate your evil deeds any longer. The days of you killing innocent nobles and tormenting common folk ends today. Prepare to die."

With that, Rickart promptly took a few steps backward. This instantly placed the newly arrived Caspar and Yulia right in the frontline. Wait, what? We never said anything like that!

"When Bori and I were your age, we handled everything ourselves. Go. Go kill them all. THAT'S what training is. Now, let's see some of that genius swordsmanship. Don't tell me you call yourselves geniuses just because you swing toy swords around in practice duels?"

Caspar and Yulia, having not even practically drawn their swords yet, stood utterly dumbfounded. Meanwhile, reinforcements began pouring out of the outpost with weapons drawn, wondering what the commotion was about.

Standing in the back leaning lazily against his walking stick, Rickart truly seemed intent on simply spectating.

Over a dozen cold, menacing blades glimmered in the sunlight. Realistically, two people facing off against over a dozen combatants was complete insanity.

However, Rickart firmly believed that discussing the way of the sword without having stood at the crossroads of life and death was the true insanity.

If they had chosen the path of the sword, how could they possibly expect to only ever fight advantageous battles? Winning or losing, living or dying—he considered the willpower that sparked amidst that pure uncertainty to be the absolute minimum requirement for any swordsman.

Just like in the past, Rickart and Bori's philosophies on the sword differed greatly. Especially regarding how to properly teach it.