Chapter 113

Chapter 113

***

Why doesn't it work? Why. We both have arms and legs just the same. Rickart finally abandoned that thought.

He finally accepted that just as he could do it naturally without any thought, the things that didn't work just simply didn't work.

What came naturally to him, others struggled to achieve no matter what. The true difference between them and him wasn't whether they could do it or not, but what they desired.

Those who desire and those who don't. A person who desires something is inevitably bound to suffer by that fact alone.

Therefore, one who desires must be prepared to be unhappy, and desiring happiness is a contradiction from the very start.

But there is no need to call those floundering in that contradiction foolish. Because if asked whether he himself was truly wise, that wouldn't be the case either.

Through the sword, Rickart reflected on one aspect of humanity. Now he could see it. A little bit.

"Um...... H-How is it?"

In the closed-off backyard of the longhouse, Roy, who had been swinging his sword for a long time while changing stances, asked cautiously. Because Roy was still young, the sword was rather large compared to his build.

The donkey chewed on bean stalks with an apparently bored expression, watching the young master and young disciple.

Rickart stared blankly at his disciple before waking from his contemplation and said.

"You couldn't even kill a frog with that."

Roy immediately became sullen. Well, as a master, when it's time to awaken someone to reality, one must do so.

"Don't obsess over the form too much. In the first place, practicing stances is to eliminate unnecessary movements and properly put strength into it. But conversely, if you can't properly employ strength because of the stance, then the priorities have been reversed. Don't forget the essence even while practicing stances. Can you feel mana at all?"

"No......"

"It's fine. There are many cases where even if they feel mana, their swordsmanship is terrible. If you just know proper swordsmanship, you won't have any rivals."

Of course, that was based purely on his own standard. It was difficult for an ordinary person to match someone wielding mana by solely training swordsmanship.

It seemed Rickart still needed more reflection.

"But in order to cut off a neck with a wooden stick like you do, Master, I have to use mana, right?"

"You brat, constantly getting caught up in superficial coolness. What's the point of doing that? It's just a miscellaneous trick."

"Superficial coolness is important too. It has to look cool to make you want to do it."

"Is that so? I guess that might be true."

Rickart tilted his head. Having absolutely no sense of authority as a master, he seemed to accept whatever even his young disciple said if it made sense.

"But arrogance is forbidden. If a truly critical situation ever arises, don't uselessly worry about stances and swiftly stab the belly. The belly. Understood? What if the opponent is wearing armor?"

"Aim for the inner thigh."

"Exactly. Because it's rare for them to properly armor up to there. You don't even need to cut; just go with the feeling of slicing. Or you can aim for the knees too. Surprisingly, they can't block it well."

Rickart taught not just swordsmanship but also practical combat knowledge in his spare time. Roy nodded vigorously to keep it in mind.

"Thinking about it carefully, a sword seems to be a vessel containing the heart. Or a mirror. People don't uniquely have only good sides. Negative feelings suppress and consume you, but conversely, they can become an excellent weapon against an enemy. Like how mishandling a sharp blade hurts yourself, but using it well defeats the enemy and protects you and your precious people. In the end, isn't training the sword the process of managing the mind? It's not simply distancing yourself from or suppressing negative emotions, but handling them well."

Just as Rickart in his past life and Ricky now walked contrasting paths yet were connected as one, Rickart didn't just merely teach but conveyed things he had recently realized to Roy.

Because of that, his teaching level was completely inconsistent. Sometimes it was so incredibly high-level that even a renowned swordsman would find it hard to understand, while other times he couldn't even teach the basics properly. One thing certain was that he showed his thoughts and actions exactly as they were.

Roy was strongly influenced by that. Right from when he first met Rickart, including the sight of him confidently going to collect the price of the cow.

It might be premature for a beginner, but it was up to himself how much he could comprehend. Perhaps because he was still untainted, there might be parts he could understand well.

"You mean even negative emotions depend on how you use them."

"But you must handle it as carefully as handling a truly sharp blade. For the most part, it ruins oneself. I was like that too. It all depends on how you make up your mind. It's what you choose."

"Yes, I will keep that in mind."

"Good boy."

Rickart stroked Roy's soft blonde hair and lightly pinched his cheek. A truly cute disciple, yet somewhat pitiful on the other hand. Suffering like this at such a young age.

"Let's go."

Rickart said.

After staying two days at the longhouse, Rickart and the group set off again. Going down the basement stairs and exiting through what seemed to be a sewer built long ago, they followed the mountain path straight northeast.

Perhaps it was a path known only to those in the know, as they didn't encounter a single soul. The thick trees seemed to hide secrets, and the towering peaks were like silent witnesses.

It was late spring. The sunlight breaking into pieces through the branches felt as fresh as new sprouts.

The clip, clop sound of the donkey Magnoli's hooves was peaceful. The beast carried people, and the people walked carrying cargo.

"If anything happens, I think it's better to escape towards the mountain."

Rickart said to Bremen.

"Why is that?"

"When people who don't know well get scared, they tend to run into the forest to hide, but doing that means you end up isolated even from allies. From the mountain looking down, you can observe the enemies well, and there's no risk of getting separated from each other."

It sounded like extreme common sense, but it was something unlearned without experience. Thus Bremen stared blankly at Rickart before saying.

"......Did you happen to be a mercenary too?"

"No. I did something similar."

Ordinary swordsmen had no combat knowledge. Training and swinging a sword was a completely different field from living in a group and conducting military operations.

Still, just as crayfish and crabs are similar, those who made a living with blades might have overlapping areas.

"True, you're a swordsman. Don't worry. I'll keep a good eye out."

Bremen nodded.

Rickart kept Roy close by his side and conversed with Bori. Marie kept Becca with her, and Becca looked at Marie with admiring eyes.

With Rickart and Marie naturally seeming to look after the kids, Hartmann and Elia walked affectionately together like newlyweds.

There are many people in the world, and each has their own desires, but right now their only desire was to travel this path safely just like this.

However, as always, violence and tragedy tended to strike suddenly, as if ruining a boring or leisurely daily life. Like an uninvited guest arriving unannounced against one's will.

As they turned a corner on the path, several men were blocking the way. More accurately, rather than standing to block the path, they seemed to be just sitting there whiling away the boring time.

Not an ambush, nor a surprise attack, it was closer to running into each other without knowing of each other's existence. So at first, they stared blankly at each other.

Soon, as tension rose, the strangers' bodies stiffened upon seeing Bori riding the donkey.

What the change in their complexion meant, the group realized instantly. An ominous feeling swept down their spines.

By the time Bori quickly got off the donkey and drew his sword, they also took something out. It was some weird iron stick-like thing, and upon raising it high, a spark shot high up into the sky.

Piyuuung- Bang-!

Instantly, Rickart, Marie, and the group looked at the firework exploding high up.

The eyes of Hartmann and his family, seeing fireworks for the first time in their lives, widened, while in the meantime the people who set off the firework quickly moved off the path and fled into the forest.

Bori stopped himself while trying to chase them. And looking back at the group, he said.

"I think we need to go up the mountain. Now."

He didn't look that frantic, but the situation was serious.

Rickart intuitively thought this would be dangerous. Not attacking recklessly, but spreading out personnel and forming a communication network meant they were moving systematically.

Is it right to go up toward the peak? What if personnel are already stationed there? Where will the enemies come from?

While these questions arose, as always, Rickart's decision was fast.

"Bori and Marie, guard the front and back. I'll go check the peak first."

"Yeah."

Then without delay, Rickart's cape fluttered as he swiftly dashed up the peak. As fast as running on flat ground, while simultaneously scanning his surroundings quickly and accurately.

The slope was steep so there were places requiring holding on with hands to climb, and spots needing to be stepped on here and there to ascend.

As Rickart turned a rock while climbing, a spear blade suddenly flashed right next to his face.

Rickart dodged by tilting his head back and sharply yanked the spear shaft. Then the opponent, rather than being pulled along, simply let go of the spear entirely. He was skilled.

At that moment, several people jumped down from the rocks and ambushed Rickart as if intending to cleave him apart.

Rickart looked up and brought his hand to his sword hilt, and for a moment time seemed to flow slowly before a flash of lightning erupted from his waist.

Chwaaaang!

Instantly cutting through multiple weapons at once, he chopped off limbs and torsos alike into pieces. Clang, weapons rained down on the ground, and corpses flopped down as well.

Having defeated the unexpected ambush with a single strike, Rickart thought to himself, 'I knew this would happen'. Their strategy was to ambush from above if they fled toward the mountain.

Anyway, these Rubens bastards were as tenacious and cunning as they used to be.

Rickart jumped with a flash and stood on top of a rock slightly taller than a person. Looking down, there was a person shivering in the corner.

Not a captive or anything, but an enemy. Once the ambush started, he got scared and couldn't attack together with his comrades.

"I understand trembling, but there's no time so I won't wait. You'd better answer quickly. Where are the rest of your comrades?"

Then, trembling his hands violently like an aspen tree, he pointed somewhere on the mountain.

"Numbers?"

"A-About ten......"

"Are there some in the forest too?"

He nodded.

"How many in total?"

He shook his head as if he didn't know.

After hastily finding out roughly what he needed to know, Rickart thrust his sword and killed him. And then dashed like the wind to the place he indicated.

Because the terrain was somewhat rugged, the paths up were virtually fixed, and the enemies were ambushing such places. Of course, this time Rickart ambushed them in reverse, killing all the completely startled enemies.

Tossing the corpses roughly to clear them away, he hastily erased the blood by sweeping the ground with his feet.

By the time the rough cleanup was done, he saw Bori coming up from below.

"Over here."

When Rickart called out, Bori turned his head and looked.

It was an exquisite spot where the bottom was plainly visible from above but couldn't be found from below without careful observation. That was probably why the enemies had chosen it as an ambush spot in the first place anyway.

Rickart said to the group following behind.

"First, I'll get straight to the point. You saw the firework earlier, right? Enemies will come swarming in soon. But we're not going to break through the enemies or run away. Not knowing enemy numbers or the terrain makes that more dangerous. We're going to defend this place like a fortress, do you understand? This is the best option right now."

Bremen and the Hartmann family weren't exactly in a panic, but being in a situation they couldn't help but be startled by, they simply listened blankly to Rickart's words.

"The paths up are limited, so it's hard for many to swarm in at once. So as long as we keep our wits about us, we can sufficiently fend them off whether there are tens or hundreds of enemies. Bori defends the path down, Marie stick close by the people. Mr. Bremen, Mr. Hartmann, do not rashly try to help these two. You'll only get in the way. Think of fighting only at the very final moment and guard this place. Understand?"

As Rickart gave instructions, it felt like a storm was raging. Bremen and Hartmann simply nodded with stiff expressions.

"What about you, Master?"

Roy asked.

"I need to attack. Attack is also a form of defense."

"Can't I come with you? Like a squire."

Rickart smiled and stroked his disciple's head.

"I'll just accept the sentiment. Cherish it well. It's not the time yet."

With that, Rickart ran slightly towards the side without a path and jumped with a flash. The red cape fluttered, and he landed spectacularly in a place where rocks were dizzily intertwined.

And bounding as if hopping, stepping from rock to rock, he descended down an untrailed path and disappeared in an instant. At that moment, Roy felt a much larger emptiness than expected.

How long had he traveled with Rickart? A month? Definitely a few weeks now. Having always been stuck together, actually separating made him feel as though he'd lost his way.

Family is precious, but as a boy grows into a man, he's bound to yearn for the world. To such a Roy, if his father was his inner pillar, Rickart was a sort of ideal existence.

Meanwhile, having seen the flare, the people of the Rubens Clan scattered here and there began to gather.

Like detachments, they were formed of five or six at the least, up to ten or so at most, and their equipment truly looked like an army's.

Only a small minority carried close-combat weapons like swords, axes, or maces; the rest were armed with crossbows, large shields, nets, billhooks, and throwing weapons.

Different from ordinary clan swordsmen, they were like this because they knew what the entity they were tracking was like. They themselves knew best that a frontal assault had no chance of winning.

But just because a tiger is scary and strong doesn't mean it can't be hunted, right? By tracking, herding, and exhausting it, even a Sword Master, being human made of flesh and bone, wouldn't have the strength to endure.

However, conversely, they were overlooking the fact that they themselves could be hunted. Because it was hard to expect a tiger with tactical thinking and execution capability to exist in the world.

The small detachments arriving first at the scene encountered a person standing atop a large rock.

Shiny blonde hair blowing in the wind, a red cape fluttering. He was looking down with his sword at his waist. It was Rickart.

Looking down at them, Rickart grasped roughly what their composition was like and what tactics they would unfold accordingly, though this surely wasn't all of them.

The thought 'pretty good' crossed his mind. It's easy to say, but splitting the entire force into small units to operate was a tactic higher in difficulty than expected. Because each small unit must coordinate well, and they must be well-versed in the overall context.

However, among the six or seven personnel, there was a person standing out. It was someone wearing an impressive outfit with deer antler-shaped embroidery on a black background.

His ear tips were pointy, and his canines bulged out, looking almost like a vampire beginning to devolve. His skull structure was also slightly elongated front-to-back, giving off the feeling 'is this really a human?'.

They said they ate hearts, so did that cause physical deformations? Looking down at him, Rickart spoke.

"In the past you discarded your honor as swordsmen, and now have you also thrown away your pride as humans?"

Then, looking up at Rickart from below, he sneered and answered.

"Hmph, what is a human? I don't know. Do you?"

"Look in the mirror. Then you'll at least know what isn't human."

"Whether a beast or a human or a monster, we all rot and decay when we die anyway. Only strength has meaning."

"Then what happens in front of an even greater strength? If you cannot even evoke fear, you'll lose your meaning as a monster too. Pitiful bastard."

Whether no further conversation was needed at Rickart's sharp point drawn from profound insight, the opponent signaled to a subordinate.

Then the one holding a pre-loaded crossbow took aim at Rickart. With a twang, the arrow fired.

Rickart didn't hide behind the rock; he threw his body exactly as he was. Toward the enemies.

It looked as though a person with red wings came flying in, and pulling his sword mid-air and raising it high above his head, flames flared up along the blade as if an optical illusion caused by sunlight.