Chapter 133

Chapter 133

***

Night fell on the desolate desert, and a campfire blazed up next to an abruptly protruding terrain.

With no grass, the sound of crickets couldn't be heard either, and on the sky resembling a black sea, only the moon and stars floated. Crackle, crackle, the sound of burning firewood sounded exactly like a lullaby.

"Ricky, may I take a look at your sword?"

Rickart had been sitting on a rock watching the flames, and smoothly handed over the sword he had placed next to him.

Hashim carefully grasped the sword with his wrinkled, old-tree-like hands and drew it out a little. The blade, as if just oiled and maintained, flowed with a sheen reflecting the reddish light.

"Where did you get such a magic sword?"

"It's not a magic sword. It just naturally became like this from using it a long time. Even without specific maintenance, the blade always stands sharply."

"As if it possesses its own will, you mean? How long have you used it?"

Rickart quietly closed his eyes as if trying to sleep leaning against the stone wall, and went back in time. The blazing campfire seemed to urge the story on.

Crackle. Crack. Crackle......

"There was a man. Said nicely he was pure, and said poorly he was ignorant of the world. He didn't know when he was born, nor who gave birth to him. Merely living his life alone as a shepherd, around the time he became an adult he came down to the village and lived marrying a young widow. He thought that was happiness. Then he was called to the battlefield, and after fighting a war for 10 years he returned to his hometown only to find his wife had set up a new life and learned she had never loved him even once. Going to the battlefield was also due to the deception of the villagers. So he killed them all. After that, he wandered the world aimlessly like you and killed all those who opposed him. Then eventually exhausted by wounds and fatigue from long battles, his lifespan ended and he died. To him, life was merely an unfunny joke played by abominable destiny. That sword, is the sword he used."

Rickart spoke about his past life as if talking about someone else. The story he had never told close friends, not even to Marie, he was telling a heathen mage.

Hashim listened to the story calmly, and looking at the blade flashing mottledly, he asked.

"......So, did he regret it?"

"No."

"Then?"

"There's no sorry feelings, nor guilt, merely nothingness. Only, he just wants to become a person who weeps silently. It seems he doesn't want to attach any meaning to tears. Whether it's repentance, or sadness."

"......A sword forged with the flame of revenge, and tempered with tears indeed. It is a magic sword."

"Isn't magic something like a more elegant spell? It has none of that."

"What is magic? You and I conversing here at this moment, isn't that magic?"

"Going by that, what isn't magic in the world, and what isn't a miracle."

"Exactly that."

"Mm?"

Rickart, who had his eyes closed, opened his eyes and looked at Hashim, but Hashim merely put the slightly drawn sword back into the scabbard and spared his words. And just quietly placed the sword next to Rickart.

Flowing out from the furnace of fire, steel, blood, and death, a sword forged with revenge and tempered with tears. What does that sword cut.

"Does the sword have a name?"

"No. Naming weapons is something kids do."

"I am not a kid but I'll make one for you. Thunderbolt. How about it? When you cut the iron cage on the ship, it looked exactly like a thunderbolt flashing to split the darkness."

"That is true but why are you making it up as you please, Hashim?"

"Didn't you also make up the friendly name Hashim as you pleased?"

"......I have nothing to say. Then are we even with this?"

"Something like that."

Smiles hung on the lips of the two friends who seemed to have about a 20-year age gap.

Night deepened. The darkness became thicker, and accordingly the starlight also twinkled brighter, and the campfire burned away the darkness between the two people.

At dawn Rickart and Hashim stomped and rubbed out the blackened campfire and hit the road again. It was the road going west.

They sated their hunger eating minced lizard meat, bread, dates and the like, and occasionally quenched their thirst drinking water.

Around the time the sunlight touching their skin became increasingly stinging and the day grew a bit hotter, Rickart and Hashim discovered a certain village.

It was a village without roofs, merely composed of yellowish square mud-houses gathered together.

Not quite an oasis, but a village formed around a well, they were people who dug waterways to farm in their own way in this barren land. Of course, what they mainly did was herd goats.

By the way, who protects such a village? Knowing through hearsay there's a class of people called Amir similar to a lord of the Empire, they mostly just ruled large cities while not caring whether surrounding small villages died or got destroyed.

When it came to bad security, this place was worse than the Empire if anything, never less.

Moreover, being the Lunadan region famous for having many fine horses, there were especially many horse bandits, so unless it was a sturdy fortress defending a large city, such villages had a hard time surviving.

The castles in the Empire couldn't be compared to the fortresses of the Lunadan region. Lunadan's fortresses were truly magnificent and large, sturdy and meticulous. Thus capturing a city was considered practically an impossible task since ancient times.

Sure enough, approaching the village, some group of horse bandits had set themselves up at the well.

They weren't massacring people randomly but they were giggling and sexually harassing women. Forcibly grabbing and making them sit on their laps, massaging their bodies, and shoving their dirty lips at them.

They looked exactly like thugs with just a glance, but surprisingly their armament was extremely good. Covering their shining scale armor with luxurious cloth, from their belts to their shoes, there was nothing lacking decorations.

However, what stood out more than anything among them was a horse as bright red as blood, or a flame. From the tip of its head to its toes, even its mane entirely.

Its size, build, and muscles perfectly balanced, it was a fine horse hard to see twice in a lifetime.

However, the situation didn't look so good. A young man wearing very expensive silk clothes was riding that horse, but whether he caught a wild horse or couldn't tame it properly, he was having trouble handling the horse.

Several people rushed in, grabbed the reins, or hooked ropes to its legs trying to forcibly suppress the horse, but it didn't go well.

The red horse struggled and resisted till the end, and eventually the young man ended up falling off the horse.

"F-Fuck!"

Whether fortunate or unfortunate, he wasn't severely injured. But as he fell, those suppressing the horse hurriedly pulled the ropes to trip up and knock the horse down.

The young man who jumped up was so annoyed he huffed by himself, brought out his horsewhip, and randomly lashed out at the subordinates or servants suppressing the horse.

"Won't you hold it properly!? Huh!? Won't you hold it properly!? Do you want me to die!? Right!?"

The one being whipped, busy pulling the rope to suppress the horse and enduring the whipping, had no presence of mind and just endured with his eyes tightly closed.

He lashed out at everyone, people and horse alike, until he got exhausted himself. The smack-smack sound could be heard ceaselessly for a while.

Around that time, the young man discovered Rickart and Hashim watching him quietly. From his perspective, the two people obviously weren't villagers with just a glance.

Blinking his eyes, he blankly looked at the two abruptly appeared people, and suddenly grinned. It definitely didn't seem like a smile with a good meaning.

Rickart quietly said to Hashim.

"Refrain from using magic."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be forgotten by you."

"Then it can't be helped. I have no choice but to use my hidden card."

"Hidden card?"

"I have such a thing."

"By the way Hashim, do you know how to ride a horse?"

"I am an Imperial even if I look like this. Does it make sense for an Imperial not to know how to ride a horse."

"The Empire is us being the Empire."

"Well, it seems our side has more legitimacy."

"Based on what?"

The conversation temporarily sidetracked, and the young man, having caught his breath, called Rickart.

"Hey there, Franken."

The conversation with Hashim, which was about to lead to a debate, was cut off, and Rickart looked back at the young man. With an utterly swaggering posture, he flicked his hand as if telling him to come closer.

Rickart blankly looked at him before approaching with his sword and baggage on his shoulder.

The young man asked.

"A pilgrim?"

"Let's say so."

"Barbarian! Do you know who this person is......!"

A person beside the young man frowned and tried to say something, but the young man raised his hand and blocked it.

"Yeah, well, you don't look like a mercenary. Looking at the way you came, it seems you've been to the Holy City, so are you on your way to find other ruins?"

"Something like that."

"Franken, what do you think of this red horse?"

"It seems to be a fine horse hard to see twice in a lifetime."

"Correct. A fine horse is a fine horse indeed. But do you know? The reason this horse is so red is because it eats people. The Beast Horse of the Yeren Plateau, that is this one."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. There was merely such a rumor. What horse eats people.

"So are you bragging to me? Seems you can't even handle it properly."

"Then can you do it? That's the reason I called you. Try taming it once, Franken. If you tame it, I will give this horse to you. You could probably buy a city with it? How about it?"

It was an unexpected proposal. However, he merely made this bet thinking Rickart could never tame this horse, and wanted to see him fall off and get severely injured or see the Beast Horse actually eat a person.

He seemed to have high status but bore clear marks of having grown up crooked. This kind of bastard was so simple that Rickart could clearly see through him. This bastard will absolutely not keep his promise.

"If I lose the bet?"

"Just go. Sounds good? There probably won't be a bet this generous."

"Good. I will accept it."

Rickart knew the young man's intention but didn't decline the bet.

He merely looked back at Hashim once before approaching the horse that had collapsed with its four limbs bound. As Rickart approached, the red horse flopped its body as if having a seizure.

An ordinary person would have fallen on their behind in surprise, but Rickart was calm.

"Shh, shh......"

Putting effort into calming the horse, he cautiously approached and stroked its head and neck.

While people were watching, Rickart whispered softly so only the horse could hear.

"I promise you. I will never hit you, and will never tie you up. If I break this promise, eat me."

He promised wholeheartedly, sincerely. The collapsed horse looked into Rickart's eyes.

Rickart first mounted by slipping his foot into the stirrup, and gave a glance to the people holding and pulling the ropes.

As they cautiously released the ropes, suddenly the horse flopped and instantly stood up, beginning to buck wildly. It raised its front legs high, making its body almost vertical.

Neighhhhh-!

Letting out a resounding cry, this time it conversely kicked up its hind legs as if it would fall forward to throw Rickart off.

Then unfortunately, one person got hit in the jaw and collapsed. His jaw was completely shattered, and whether he lived or died, he collapsed with his limbs stretched out.

"Ahhhh!"

People got surprised, panicked, and backed away, and the escort warriors who had been harassing the village women also shoved the women away, jumped up, and watched Rickart and the horse.

Rickart poured strength into his legs and flexibly handled it while his waist held sturdy. The hands holding the reins grasped so tightly it looked like blood would seep out.

The horse honestly bucked like crazy as if it would really fly straight into the sky, but Rickart never fell off. As time passed, the eyes of the watching people grew bigger and bigger.

Rickart's strength was one thing, but his sense of balance, or maintaining his center of gravity was at a nonsensical level. Having ridden horses all their lives as well, they knew it better.

The horse, having bucked for a while, seemed frustrated and suddenly bolted forward. Then it really dashed out of the village like an arrow. Its propulsion and rapid acceleration were unbelievable.

People rushed out of the village in a flock and kept watching. In their eyes, the sight of the red horse crossing the desolate earth like a picture was seen.

Perhaps due to the powdery dust, it seemed to leave a red afterimage behind, looking exactly like seeing a red comet. So it could run this beautifully. How wronged and frustrated must it have felt all this time.

Rickart riding on top felt the wind in front of him exactly like a solid wall. To the point he thought his neck might snap back if he relaxed it.

With the headwind being so strong, the turban on his head came loose and flew away with a swoosh. His blond hair, grown somewhat long having not been cut for a while, fluttered wildly.

By the way, from the perspective of the watching people, Rickart and the red horse instantly distanced themselves and already looked small.

Only then did the young man wearing expensive clothes abruptly come to his senses and issue an order to his subordinates.

"Catch that bastard! Hurry! You can't let him steal the horse!"

Even though he's the one who suggested the bet. Originally, these kinds of bastards' promises were as light as feathers and they tended to be self-centered.

As the warriors hurriedly tried to mount their horses, fortunately or unfortunately at that moment Rickart came running back again.

Clatter! Clatter! Clatter! Clatter!

He was incredibly far away but closed the distance instantly. As Rickart pulled the reins firmly, the horse abruptly stopped as if it had been completely tamed in that short time.

Rickart turned his head and shouted to Hashim.

"Now! Your hidden card!"

Then while everyone was bewildered not knowing what he was talking about, Hashim swoosh-pulled out a dagger from his bosom and stabbed the neck of one of the warriors, killing him. Seeing that, Rickart was also surprised. What the heck, that was the hidden card?

His sword skill was honestly terrible, but because there was no hesitation, there was no great problem killing a careless warrior.

He quickly stole the warrior's horse, mounted it, and fled, and Rickart was about to run the horse again but the red horse suddenly charged at the young man in silk clothes.

Without even a moment to do anything, the red horse viciously bit and tore at the young man's face.

"Aaaaaaghhhh!"

Seeing as he was screaming, he didn't seem to be dead, but his facial skin was torn off and his appearance was horrific.

The red horse, with angry eyes, drooled blood from its mouth. Honestly, Rickart was also surprised and his heart sank.

The startled subordinates rushed over to the collapsed young man in a flock to check his injuries.

"Prince!"

He seemed to have high status, but a prince? A guy who's a prince was just leading servants and subordinates to commit thuggery in a village simply for entertainment? Amazing.

However, Rickart didn't criticize him. Rather, he was thankful. Merely, unable to even convey words of thanks for making the bet, he hurriedly turned the horse's head and bolted. Since the situation had already occurred anyway.

The red horse, seemingly tireless, dashed like a beam of light again and instantly caught up with Hashim who was already far away.

Behind Rickart's back, the prince's shout close to a scream was heard. Because the red horse ran so fast, that scream grew smaller in real-time.

"Catch those bastards aaaaaaghhhh!"