Chapter 107

Chapter 107

***

On a certain low mountain pass, a large signpost standing shoulder-high was erected, bearing the following words carved in crude lettering on its flat surface.

It read more like a warning notice than a simple announcement. However, Rickart smiled gently while looking at the signpost, wearing his cape with his sword strapped to his waist.

"Ricky."

Marie called out from a short distance away. Turning his head, he saw the group standing at the crest of the pass, looking down at the opposite side.

Rickart, who had been delayed from looking happily at the signpost, walked toward them. Reaching the crest, a pastoral landscape seemingly straight out of a dream unfolded before his eyes.

A large lake and a village nestled beside it, with appetizing white smoke billowing up from the chimneys of houses everywhere.

Herds of cattle grazing leisurely in the fields, and people could be seen catching fish or working the fields.

It wasn't a huge village, but it seemed to have everything. It was a place that spontaneously made one think, 'I want to live here.'

Whether it was an artificial terrain or not, there was land protruding indented into the lake, and upon it stood a small castle.

Like Stormhearts, instead of a castle, it looked more like a mansion with defensive towers attached, the kind of typical castle often seen in the countryside.

"This is a safe place, so we can rest easy. Let's go."

The guide Bremen said.

He took the lead, and the group followed him. Rickart walked leisurely. He took in the lake, the fields, every single tree, and the mountains, engraving them all into his eyes.

As they walked along the causeway crossing the lake and the farmland, the farmers didn't seem particularly wary upon seeing outsiders. Rather, they greeted them with smiles. It was a fascinating place.

The migrants simply stared in shock, unable to even return the greetings. Was there a world like this out there?

"It's over there. That's the clan's headquarters."

Caspar said. Initially reticent and sullen, he now stepped forward and spoke first, perhaps having grown accustomed to Rickart and the group.

"We'll look for a place to pitch our tents."

Bremen said to Rickart and Marie, who had connections with the Viola Clan. Since they had decided to introduce Blatter to the clan, they had business there as well.

"Oh? But you can't pitch tents here anymore."

Caspar told Bremen.

"Hmm?"

"There were so many outsiders coming in and living in tents that it caused all sorts of problems. So outsiders must stay at a boarding house or an inn. Otherwise, you might get kicked out."

It seemed the rules had changed while Bremen hadn't passed this way. Because it was an autonomous dominion, the clan's rules were equivalent to territorial law.

How to define and punish criminals was entirely up to the clan's decision.

"Are the inn fees expensive? I guess a boarding house would be better?"

"The inn fee is one silver coin per room. Bathwater and meals are provided. Maybe they'll give a discount for long-term stays? I'm not really sure."

It was quite expensive. Fairly decent inns in major cities charged that kind of lodging fee.

Looking at it again, it didn't seem so friendly towards outsiders. They were using indirect methods to subtly pressure and drive away outsiders.

It was a difficult situation. But on the other hand, the clean, pastoral landscape and the farmers greeting them with smiles were only possible on the foundation of those exact rules.

Because the clan protected the people, naturally filtering out outsiders without needing to confront them directly.

"How about staying just for a day? We could share a single room for several people."

They weren't entirely out of money. They had a little. But that money had to be spent as much as possible on buying food.

"Let me try talking to them. We might receive some favors. Don't unpack your luggage and just follow me for now."

Rickart said.

Rickart had never left the clan. He had just gone off somewhere. That meant he was still one of the founding members of the clan, so the word "favor" didn't really fit.

However, he said it just in case, and since he hadn't been there while his friends were building their lives here, he couldn't simply stubbornly assert his position.

Honestly, Rickart was also a little nervous. Will they resent me for leaving without saying a word? Will they feel slighted? Will they hate me...?

Because the castle was situated on land that protruded into the lake, there was a gate on the land connecting to it.

Near the gate, people wearing unified uniforms like academy uniforms were wandering around, but unlike Beringen Academy uniforms made with a lot of money, they simply wore identical gambesons, identical capes, trousers, and shoes.

They looked young, ranging from their teens to early twenties, and some wore swords at their waists, while others simply moved loads without weapons.

When Caspar and Yulia approached, the clan members seemed to recognize them. However, they didn't approach to greet or talk to them.

"Are you not that close?"

"These people are apprentices and squires. Many quit before becoming trainees, so we're not that close."

When Rickart asked, Caspar answered. Caspar and Yulia were trainees, and among them, direct disciples of the Sword Master, so they were generally just distant acquaintances.

"Have you arrived already? I heard the Guardian gave you a quest."

Unlike the others, a person wearing a black cape approached Caspar and Yulia and asked. He wore a sword at his waist.

Yet, even though he looked older than Caspar, he spoke politely.

"We've arguably accomplished the quest, and we met the Master midway."

"The Master?"

"It's Ricky. This is Marie."

When Caspar introduced Rickart and Marie, the young man in the black cape turned to look at them.

"Who...?"

"What do you mean 'who'? Hey Hunts, don't you even know the founders of the clan?"

Caspar scowled and scolded him. Among the younger members, there were some who didn't know about Rickart.

"Not me."

Marie corrected Caspar's words. The founding members of the clan were Bolka, Bori, Delphy, and Rickart. Marie joined later when she entered the academy a year after.

Anyway, Caspar scolded the seemingly older swordsman and asked.

"Is the Master inside?"

The Clan Master was Bolka. The title 'Clan Master' had a slightly different meaning than before, currently meaning the head of the autonomous dominion and the person overseeing the clan. Bolka was the first.

"Yes, he is."

"What about my master?"

"He went to Adelorn. Because a Codex was reportedly found."

"Why the Codex?"

Rickart interrupted and asked. He didn't have a good impression of the Codex.

"That I'm not really sure..."

"My master occasionally goes out to find and burn or collect the Codexes. We don't really know the details why either."

Finding and burning the Codex? Perhaps because Bori had also witnessed its severe side effects, he seemed intent on eradicating it from the world. Collecting the relatively safer ones separately.

Realizing Bori was doing such things, Rickart felt a heavy heart. Feeling as if Bori was lonely all by himself.

"Shall we head inside first?"

Caspar said, pointing to the already open gate. With him leading, it was a breeze. Even though beggar-like migrants were following them, the people merely looked at them strangely without stopping them.

The path leading to the castle was like a naturally formed bridge over the lake. Passing that, they reached the castle.

The walls were practically at the level of walls, making it ambiguous to call them castle walls. But thanks to that, lighting was good, and since it was already a natural fortress, tall walls didn't seem all that necessary.

Anyway, passing through even the castle gates, Rickart was a little surprised to find the interior much cleaner than expected.

The courtyard was free of weeds and clearly swept frequently with brooms, making it spotless, with trainee quarters on both sides, while the inner keep, presumably where the clan's true swordsmen stayed, was the one seen from afar.

From somewhere, energetic shouts could be heard as if mid-training. It seemed they were teaching basic stances.

Rickart and Marie felt somewhat unfamiliar yet deeply moved by what their friends had achieved, looking around in a slightly dazed state. Then, a familiar voice was heard.

"Ricky?"

Rickart, looking around, turned his head towards the direction of the sound. His eyes widened at Bolka staring at him.

"Oh my god, it really is Ricky?"

Bolka had an expression akin to meeting someone he thought was dead.

He suddenly grabbed Rickart into a fierce hug. And, slightly exaggerating, pulled him tight enough to crush his bones. Wordlessly. Rickart felt an inexplicable sense of relief amid the stifling embrace. 'They don't hate me.'

Parting and looking at each other, the corners of Bolka's mouth finally curled up belatedly. He pulled Marie, who was beside him, into a hug, and finally, a bright smile bloomed.

"Hey, what are you guys up to?"

"What else? We heard the news while traveling and came to see."

"What on earth have you been doing?"

"I herded sheep."

"Sheep? Did you herd golden sheep or something?"

"No."

Rickart burst into laughter at his unchanged tone.

"By the way, Bolka, you really achieved something massive."

"It's all thanks to you. Anyway, you succeeded in the operation, right?"

"......"

The events at the Cult's sanctuary weren't exactly pleasant memories. Although Bolka didn't directly witness Rickart drawing his sword, he had personally seen the gruesome aftermath.

No matter how evil the bastards were, the sight of nearly hundreds of corpses strewn about was a terror difficult to put into words. Blood had pooled up to their ankles.

While Bolka was at a loss for words then, Bori, who had been on the scene, simply relayed that Rickart and Marie had 'left.'

So seeing Rickart suddenly appear, his eyes couldn't help but widen.

"I heard Bori went to look for the Codex?"

"Right. It's a rather disturbing item, isn't it? We didn't necessarily have to be the ones to step up, but we did end up seeing it."

Witnessing the human experimentation grounds during the subjugation operation was traumatic for anyone.

Although it was an era where public beheadings in squares and occasionally flaying for torture could be seen, the human experimentation grounds far surpassed that level.

"By the way, who are these people?"

Bolka asked, looking at Blatter and the migrants behind Rickart. They were just standing around awkwardly and hesitating.

"We're heading for the Eastern Frontier, and these are people traveling with us. It was hard to find a suitable place to stay while passing through here. Ah, and this person is Blatter, a senior from our academy, I thought it would be good if he joined the clan... I'll vouch for him."

Saying it made him feel a bit shy. Blatter stepped forward to introduce himself, but Bolka was still hot-blooded.

"Hey! We don't need any vouchers from you, Ricky! Who do you think I am? If he came with you, he's already family. Those who came together are also welcome. Companions of Ricky are practically VIPs to me. I'll look into some rooms, so please stay comfortably as much as you need. By the way, didn't you kids have a quest? You returned already?"

Bolka asked Caspar and Yulia.

"Ah, that is, we took care of the Ringwald Sword Brotherhood, so we thought that would fulfill Master's quest of 'gaining fame as a swordsman.'"

"The Ringwald Sword Brotherhood? You guys? Even I have a hard time dealing with those guys, but you two did it?"

"Ah, that is, Ricky Master helped us... quite a bit."

"You met midway? Hmm, I see. Luck is also a skill. Anyway, I'm glad you're safe. See, if only you hadn't been acting up so much, why else would Bori give you a quest like that?"

"We are sorry. We learned it to our bones this time."

"Okay, okay, glad to hear it. But why are you heading to the Eastern Frontier?"

"That's... Bolka, shouldn't we go inside somewhere to talk first?"

"Ah, right. Standing out here like this. Caspar and Yuli, you guys guide them, Ricky and Marie, follow me."

Bolka swaggered forward, swinging his arms cheerfully, telling them to follow. But he dragged one leg. Huh?

During the time the two were absent, it seemed there were truly many hardships and dangers while building all of this. Rickart felt a sudden stab of pain in his heart. Marie felt similar.

However, Bolka was still hot-blooded and energetic. Seeing that, Rickart felt like tears were about to well up. But he forced them back.

Entering the inner keep, Bolka suddenly shouted.

"Delphy! Delphy! Get over here, wife!"

Then from somewhere, Delphy shouted back.

"Hey! Didn't I tell you not to shout inside! It echoes so much!"

"This is something to shout about! Come out immediately!"

"If I go out, you're dead!"

"I don't care if I die, just come out!"

"You...!"

Enraged, Delphy stormed out huffing and puffing. Then, seeing Rickart and Marie, she froze completely.

"It's been a while, Delphy."

Rickart greeted her with a gentle smile.

Delphy stood blankly for a long time, then ran forward and threw herself into their arms in a single breath. As the three embraced, unlike Bolka, Delphy bawled loudly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Though there was nothing to be sorry about, Delphy kept crying and apologizing.

Their emotions synchronized, and tears flowed from Rickart and Marie as well. Even Bolka's eyes moistened.

Why, they couldn't exactly tell. In this harsh world, perhaps merely reuniting alive was moving enough. It was an era where the average lifespan wasn't very long. Even more so for those who made a living by the sword.

Passing clan members stared in bewilderment, not knowing the reason, or turned back the way they came.

The four of them cried for quite a long time as if overwhelmed with grief. But to call it mere emotion seemed to lack something deeper. What exactly it was was hard to specify; it was just a turbulent feeling that the mind couldn't comprehend.

Thinking about it now, it was a wonder how they survived through those hardships in the past. It felt like they had reached this point purely by clashing, breaking, and holding on with gritted teeth while knowing nothing.

Even Rickart had almost died several times, and it was the same for his other friends.

Growing old wasn't fearful. There were no regrets regarding the passing years. Just a sliver of regret, an incomprehensible sense of loss, and a handful of relief soaking their hearts profusely.

They were just young people in their late teens and twenties now, but the incredibly harsh world had relentlessly pushed them past their limits since childhood.

Perhaps the tears they shed were gratitude towards themselves and their friends from that time, who smiled knowing nothing, who united by mutual trust, and who somehow managed to survive until now.

Even though their paths had diverged, friends were friends. Eternal friendship. That was the Viola Clan.