Chapter 105

Chapter 105

***

When spring comes, swallows return, and around that time, violets bloom. Now was that time. The breeze brushing across the fields was cool, and the sunlight was warm.

However, the man and woman with swallows embroidered on their chests had no leisure to enjoy spring. It was because they stood on the boundary of life and death. The two drew their swords with trembling hearts.

Do we really have to fight? We might die. This is ridiculous. Such thoughts seemed to pull at the back of their necks. Telling them to run away.

No matter how much they looked back at Rickart, Rickart simply stood there leaning on his walking stick, watching calmly.

"Are you bastards from a clan? Where are you from?"

Among the men guarding the intersection, the one who seemed to be the boss spoke. Looking older than his years, he had a messy, untended beard, and his gaze had the four-white eyes characteristic of criminals.

Perhaps because he was resting, the front of his gambeson was undone, but rather, that messiness seemed to act as proof of his extensive combat experience.

At the question of where they were from, Caspar and Yulia looked forward again. Why wouldn't their lips part easily? Vain hopes filled their heads that they could still turn back even now.

A pack of wolves instinctively knew whether their prey was scared or not. The people of the Ringwald Sword Brotherhood noticed that these two young men and women were terrified.

And they also knew that they should aim for the back of the neck when their prey was scared.

"W-We are..."

"You greenhorns!"

As Caspar was about to state his clan, the opponent yelled furiously. Startled by the sudden shout, his body stiffened, and at that moment, the enemies rushed in all at once.

The people couldn't be seen, and only a dozen or so flashing cold weapons flickered before their eyes. Caspar and Yulia were frightened and backed away, unable to swing their swords even once.

They must have trained and practiced in their own way, but none of that came out. Unlike a one-on-one or facing two or three people, they didn't know what to do against a group of more than ten.

If they blocked one side, an attack would come from the other, and they couldn't crouch down to dodge. Ultimately, running away was the only answer left, but it was already too late for that.

But then, suddenly, a sound like a fluttering flag was heard. With a violent flapping noise, something incredibly fast overtook Caspar and Yulia, piercing straight through the enemies.

What they saw afterward was the opposing boss, now headless. He stood despite having lost his head. Blood spurted fountain-like from the severed stump before his body belatedly collapsed like a crumbling doll.

Momentarily, everyone stopped moving. Rather than being surprised, they had dumbfounded expressions, having no idea what had just happened.

Then, Rickart, who had pierced through the enemies, spoke.

"I'll handle this side, you guys take that side."

Saying that, he swung the walking stick he was holding fiercely, and another enemy standing blankly had his head sent flying.

Despite being called the Sword Brotherhood and thus not being just average swordsmen, a moment of distraction meant their heads would unfailingly fly off.

At this point, the enemies felt their hairs stand on end. Regardless, Rickart launched a high kick, and then fiercely poked another's Adam's apple with the tip of his walking stick. Three or four collapsed in a single bout.

Just a moment ago Caspar and Yulia were retreating in terror, but in the blink of an eye, the situation reversed, and the enemies became terrified. Meeting Rickart's eyes, they couldn't endure it and scattered in flight.

"Move!"

Rickart shouted fiercely looking towards Caspar and Yulia.

At that, the two finally snapped to their senses and chased after those who were fleeing.

It was an unsightly spectacle of grabbing randomly and killing haphazardly, but this was a matter of life and death.

Caspar grabbed a fallen opponent's hair and stabbed his neck. Yulia slashed a fleeing man's thigh, bringing him down, before gripping her sword in a reverse grip and stabbing his chest multiple times.

Then they ran frantically to catch the others who were fleeing mindlessly.

In the midst of that, there were a few enemies who resisted, resulting in torn cape hems and slashed gambesons. Fortunately, they weren't badly hurt.

However, this wasn't swordsmanship or anything of the sort. It was nothing more than brute force pulling, pushing, and stabbing.

Consequently, they couldn't kill all of them, and four or five kept running away somewhere, the distance growing too wide to give chase.

"Huff, huff, huff, huff..."

Disheveled clothes and hair. Caspar looked down at the dead with a bloodstained sword, panting heavily.

"What did you even do to be panting so much?"

When Rickart's voice pierced his ears, he flinched in surprise and turned his head to look at him.

"I told you to handle that side, yet you let five escape. Are you confident you can deal with the consequences if those guys alert their main force about what happened here?"

Rickart pressed the two, but neither of them could properly register the other's words right now. Perhaps because it was their first time fighting against multiple opponents, Caspar and Yulia still couldn't regain their wits.

"Search the bodies and the outpost, grab everything you can. I'll give you one minute."

Rickart gave instructions. Yet as the two just stood there dazedly, Rickart spoke quietly.

"One, two, three, four..."

As he began counting, the two finally snapped to their senses once more and moved hastily. Caspar ran to the outpost to search the inside, while Yulia searched the bodies.

Rummaging through the clothes of people lying in pools of blood wasn't a pleasant task. Especially rings; they weren't easy to remove.

While she was wasting time trying to remove a single ring, Rickart snatched Yulia's sword and hacked down on the dead man's finger. The finger was instantly severed.

Tossing the sword in front of the startled girl, Rickart spoke coldly.

"One minute has passed."

Just then, Caspar came running carrying an armful of miscellaneous clutter from the outpost. Looking at his expression, his characteristic youthful arrogance and pride had completely vanished, and he seemed half out of his mind.

"Throw away everything except money and jewelry. They'll slow down your movements. The rest you only gather when you have the luxury to do so."

At Rickart's words, Caspar dropped things like metal utensils and candlesticks onto the ground with a clatter.

After that, the two stood blankly, having no idea what to do next. Rickart asked them.

"What will you do now?"

"Yes?"

"I asked what you will do. Didn't you say you wanted to save innocent people?"

"W-Well, probably, we should contact the clan and get some reinforcements..."

"And when are you going to train? So Bolka or Bori end up handling the actual work while you guys just duel among similar peers with practice swords, is that it? Feeling good if you win, and swinging swords furiously in the air if you lose. Is that how you show off or feel discouraged about having talent or not?"

"...I don't know. Please teach us the way. Master."

Hearing the word "Master" finally come out of Caspar's mouth, Rickart smirked.

"Who's your master? Isn't Bori your master? Whatever. If the runners alert the main force, they'll make preparations. So we have two options. Take people and quickly escape this place, or strike the heart of the enemy before they can prepare."

The on-the-spot judgments Rickart made as naturally as breathing were very difficult for ordinary people, especially inexperienced ones.

Perhaps this ability was more important than wielding a sword in surviving and achieving results in actual combat.

Rickart repeated his first question.

"We don't have time. What will you do?"

Caspar and Yulia looked at each other. Although of different genders, the emotions they felt right now were similar, as if looking into a mirror. The bewilderment and fear of not knowing what to do in a sudden situation.

They were those whose talent had been recognized among the clan's trainees to become direct disciples of a Sword Master. They had even taken pride in believing there were no skilled individuals among their peers who could match them.

Even when setting out on a training journey, they felt it wouldn't be hard to protect themselves, and thought it wouldn't be dangerous if they carefully picked their opponents.

However, now that a truly life-threatening 'challenge' stood before them, a strange competitiveness arose alongside their fear. Have I ever truly tested my own limits? That thought.

Just encountering a dangerous and difficult fight resulted in their usual swordsmanship completely vanishing. Their minds went blank, leaving only crude hacking.

Ultimately, to surpass one's limits, one had to experience those limits. Now was the moment of choice.

Caspar and Yulia completely communicated with their eyes. Wanna do it? Let's do it. I want to do it. The sentiment was mutually conveyed.

Caspar firmed his gaze, looked at Rickart again, and spoke. We can do better this time.

"We will attack the enemy."

"Good. Instead, if anyone asks, answer confidently."

"About what?"

"The enemy asked, but you were so scared you couldn't even say your clan's name."

"...I apologize. Next time I will surely state my name confidently."

Caspar bowed his head and answered as if ashamed.

"Let's go."

Rickart leaned on his walking stick and walked toward where the enemies had fled. The place they headed towards was likely the castle used by the former lord.

After walking for hours, the sun had set by the time they arrived. Because it was a rural village, the castle wasn't large, and the walls weren't made of bricks but rather wooden palisades.

However, there was one problem: there were too many enemies. Because the castle was small, it couldn't hold everyone inside, and outside the castle swarmed an assortment of hastily gathered thugs and swordsmen. There seemed to be at least dozens of them.

Bonfires flickered here and there, and the vulgar laughter of prostitutes and drunken shouting reached where Rickart stood.

Caspar, who had confidently declared they should strike the enemy, felt a sense of regret upon seeing the sheer number of enemies. The human mind was indeed something that changed depending on the situation.

"Where do you think this guy Ringwald is?"

"...He'd probably be in the castle, wouldn't he? But this doesn't seem right."

"When numbers are large, they are more prone to letting their guard down. Furthermore, they don't seem to have any discipline, so hold your heads high and walk confidently. Then no one will notice."

"What about when we come out?"

Yulia asked with wide eyes.

"Don't be scared by the numbers and look at their faces. Do they look like they'd risk their lives to exact revenge if their boss dies? Confidently shout that you have executed Ringwald and to clear the way. Of course, depending on the situation, if there's a back door, quietly slipping out is also fine."

Rickart didn't seem to have much of a plan either. Moreover, he told them to look at their faces, but it was too dark at night to see clearly.

However, he wasn't entirely wrong either. They had almost no discipline and seemed completely absorbed in just playing, drinking, and sleeping.

"Just like during the day, if you guys get scared, the opponent will notice it immediately. Then even things that could work out will fail. Reversely, if you act brazenly, you can make even impossible things work out. Got it?"

Caspar and Yulia chose not to answer. However, if one remained confined by common sense, they could never surpass common sense.

Rickart leaned on his walking stick and walked toward the castle. Passing the noisy, boisterous people and arriving at the castle, the gates were left wide open.

Unless an army came attacking, closing the gates only inconvenienced passage, so they were left open.

When they reached the narrow courtyard, there were people guarding it, who stopped the three upon seeing unfamiliar faces.

"Never seen you before. Who are you guys?"

At that, Rickart looked back at Caspar and Yulia and spoke.

"Tighten your cores and shout with all your might."

"Huh? About what?"

"Didn't you say you'd state it confidently if someone asked who you were?"

"Y-You want me to say it now?"

"Then when are you going to say it? Are you going to keep disappointing me?"

Even so, this was too much. It was a bit much to say it in the middle of enemy lines. Caspar was almost on the verge of tears.

Surprisingly, Yulia shouted fiercely, thinking whatever happens, happens.

"We are from the Viola Clan!"

Then, the person looking suspiciously at the three frowned and stared quietly.

The enemies murmured, 'What is it? What's going on?' and kept gathering around. Perhaps due to the prestige of the Viola Clan, a stir could be heard.

At that time, a person came out of the inner keep. It was a tall man with short hair, but his eyes were sunken and his cheeks hollow, likely from not sleeping well recently.

However, his gaze was clear, as if tinted with a touch of madness. Even without being told, one could easily tell he was Ringwald.

"Why has the Viola Clan come?"

"U-Um..."

When the boss actually appeared before them, Yulia was overwhelmed by his aura. Caspar was also too busy looking around frantically. It was because they were completely surrounded. The thought crossed his mind, 'How did I end up here?'

Caspar and Yulia looked like little birds surrounded by a wolf pack, and Rickart thought it couldn't be helped as he watched them.

He wasn't entirely satisfied, but on the other hand, he felt proud that they had made it this far. Opening their wings to fly the skies still seemed premature. Pushing them any further ended here.

So he stepped forward himself.

"I am Ricky of the Viola Clan. I heard you murdered the lord's family who lived here and are persecuting the people."

"Ricky? Ricky... Ah, I know you. The Red Cape. Are you that person who used to be famous as the genius swordsman? This isn't the North, so what brings you here?"

"Regardless of whether it's the North or not, do you admit you committed a serious crime?"

"Well, why should your clan interfere with someone else's family affairs?"

"Family affairs?"

"Yes, although I'm an illegitimate child, I inherited my father's blood. Isn't it what nobles traditionally do, to kill brothers and nephews and seize titles? Is there any reason I can't?"

"There's no reason you can't. But you should bear the consequences of your actions."

"Consequences. I think you're the one who should bear the consequences, not me. Did you think I'd be scared just because of the Viola Clan?"

Ringwald said with an oily smile.

Even more swordsmen had gathered around, completely surrounding Rickart, Caspar, and Yulia. All of them scrunched their faces fiercely, glaring as if wanting to devour them.

Rickart snorted softly.

"Gathering a bunch of retards and thinking you'll be safe; even if it wasn't me, it seems like only a matter of time before you die."

"Hahaha... In the end, everyone who lives must die. So before dying, resolving deep-seated grudges and fulfilling dreams. That's what it is. Have you fulfilled your dream? Ricky."

Ringwald spoke as if he had mastered life. However, the one feeling the most anxious was actually him. The long dark circles trailing down his eyes from insomnia proved it.

Rickart released his grip on his walking stick. And slowly drew the sword at his waist.

Then, sparks flew as the blade exited its sheath. It was a golden flame burning brightly in the dark night. The light illuminated Rickart's face from below.

Rickart, looking at Ringwald with gleaming eyes, spoke.

"I am looking at that 'dream' you speak of, and what lies beyond it."

Soon, a golden thunderbolt pierced through the darkness of the night, flashing brilliantly.