Chapter 26

Chapter 26

When speaking of distance, it was usually expressed in terms of the walking speed of an average adult. A day's journey, or half a day.

Therefore, there was bound to be some variation from person to person, and one had to take the words of locals with a grain of salt. This was even more true for terrain like forests or mountains.

So Rickart estimated that it would take about two days to get out of the forest. Moreover, with one wounded person, they couldn't speed up.

The forest path wasn't flat; it seemed to undulate up and down. A little up, then down, and thick tree roots protruded here and there. It was a path that no carriage or cart could possibly pass.

Molti insisted he could walk alone, but when Rickart spoke firmly, he accepted Bolka's support.

Thus, the party faced night in the forest once again. The cry of an owl was heard, and the moon was hidden by branches, barely visible. Pitch-black darkness. Two campfires rose.

It was a night where unknown terror seemed to lurk beyond the darkness where the firelight didn't reach.

They sliced the salted meat obtained from the village and shared it. It was truly covered in salt, so they had to eat it in very small pieces with hard bread.

The students pretended not to be, but their anxiety was visible. And amusingly, they pulled themselves together by looking at the calm Rickart. How can he be so composed? It was amazing to the point of being hard to adapt to.

"The enemies will probably come from the path we came."

Rickart broke the silence while wiping the dagger he used to slice the meat. Although he didn't ask for attention, everyone looked at Rickart and pricked up their ears.

"If they had gone ahead to wait, we would have met them at the village already. The distance is too far to wait at the end of this path. So, they probably looked around the scene and are chasing late. Then we have to fight."

Rickart stated clearly. Not running away or having other options, but that they had to fight.

"Since we are three groups, let's have three people deal with one enemy. You know that you won't remember what you practiced anyway, right? If you see an opening, just think of stabbing and slashing unconditionally. If three people deal with one, an opening is bound to show."

It might be hurtful to their pride, but when life and death were at stake, pride didn't matter at all. The students understood well because they had experienced it once. However.

"But the enemies are more than us, right? We are nine with one wounded, but the enemies will be at least thirty. How can three people..."

One female student spoke. Perhaps because they had exchanged words quite a bit, she seemed to offer her opinion without feeling burdened.

"That's why the initial battle is important. If we ambush and kill a few guys in an instant, the enemies will mistakenly think we are more numerous. It's about momentum. We win with momentum. Don't think about anything else, just think about killing one guy at a time. Then we just sweep them all. I'll handle the somewhat strong guy."

Even if Rickart's words were right, and even if they trusted him as a leader, the students seemed doubtful as they didn't have much actual combat experience.

Rickart spoke while tapping the bandage wrapped around his left hand.

"The wound on my palm hasn't healed yet."

It had only been a day since he swore not to run away but to fight, and to take revenge if anyone died while fighting.

The stinging sensation was still vivid in his palm, and that pain reminded him of his oath.

But the human heart is cunning, so no one knew what would happen when the situation actually arose.

Rickart looked back at Ice. The unbelievable silver hair and perfectly proportioned features seemed to shine even though he hadn't washed properly for three days.

But those always cold and indifferent eyes seemed somewhat depressed for some reason now. Or perhaps he was afraid.

Rickart thought he still didn't know that guy well. He left to complete the request? He couldn't know if that was sincere or just a cowardly excuse.

"It's better to fight. Running away becomes a habit too. Then you become truly miserable......"

Rickart muttered as if talking to himself, or perhaps for everyone to hear.

The campfire burned, and the students kept silent. It was unknown whether they were strengthening their resolve or just trembling.

Rickart thought that he could do it since he was used to fighting, but just because he was like that, he couldn't force the students to fight risking their lives.

And on the other hand, he felt that the students and he were in a similar situation. In his previous life, he was thrown into the battlefield around the age of fifteen or sixteen.

When he raised his head and looked at the faces of the students carefully, the thoughts, tremors, worries, and anxieties of that time seemed to revive.

Therefore, he could absolutely not say things like 'I'll kill you if you run away'. Even if they ran away, he could only embrace them saying it was okay.

But he couldn't actively encourage running away either, so Rickart thought his job ended here.

As the night deepened, Rickart felt a somewhat gloomy

mood. Because nothing had changed.

The next day, Rickart decided to walk a bit more on the forest path and ambush in the middle. It was much better to fight with some preparation than to walk defenselessly and fight suddenly.

The students thought, wouldn't they be able to get out of the forest if they went a little further? Wouldn't they meet the guild's adventurers if they arrived at Torveil? But they followed Rickart's judgment.

And that was what Rickart intended. Not only to gain an advantage in the fight, but because lying in ambush changed the mindset itself. Psychologically, people were bound to accept, 'Ah, we are really fighting'.

Rickart knew how to choose the time and place to fight, just like a truly competent field commander.

"But you know, wouldn't it be better to strike from both sides?"

Bolka asked. Because currently, all the students were hiding on one side of the road.

"That also requires coordination. You've experienced it, so you know, but when a sword fight starts, you don't know what's what, so you might hurt an ally coming from the opposite side."

"True......"

In a scene where life and death were exchanged, if one got extremely tense, there was no mind to distinguish between friend and foe.

That was why formation was emphasized in battles between armies. Because you just had to stab the guy in front purely.

The larger the group, the harder it was to command, while the soldiers actually fighting just had to do simple repetitions. But in smaller skirmishes, the capability of the individual fighting became more important.

Rickart and the students took out their weapons in advance and hid by the roadside to wait. However, it was a more boring time than expected. All sorts of thoughts crossed their minds while waiting. From useless thoughts to thoughts steeling their minds.

But when the sun hung in the middle of the sky, a scream was heard from far away on the path the party had already passed.

-Aaaaaaaah!

Everyone opened their eyes wide. What's that sound?

And once again.

-Aaaaaaaah!

The party flinched again. Rickart was also bewildered, not knowing the reason. What is going on?

Intermittent screams continued to be heard. Don't leave me, save me, I was wrong......

Then at some moment, a burning smell was carried on a weak breeze. Fire? What is it? What happened?

-Hey you sons of bitches! do I look like a pushover to you!

They didn't know what had happened, but they could clearly see it was a very serious matter. And the screams were getting closer. Then.

"Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!"

Someone ran panting bare-handed, without a weapon. Judging by his attire, he was an adventurer and likely an enemy, but two arrows were stuck in his back. Huh?

He was running away frantically with a face as if he had seen a ghost.

Rickart realized instinctively. The enemies had some conflict with the locals, and a fight broke out. And they were being slaughtered unilaterally.

In a strange place, especially in rough terrain like forests or mountains, one could absolutely not match the locals. If they were Rangers skilled in stealth and bowing, the best policy was not to touch them like poison frogs.

The students flinched. Should we run out now? What should we do? But Rickart raised his arm to stop them. We have to watch for now.

The students gripped their weapons tightly. Someone had blood seeping from the bandage wrapped around their hand. Tension rose to the extreme.

The screams got closer and closer, and not long after, another group of people ran panting. They also had arrows stuck here and there in their arms or bodies. One with an arrow in his thigh was running away urgently while limping.

Rickart sprang out towards the one who looked the most intact among them. Then, the man who was in the middle of running away was startled and flailed his arms.

Thwack!

The sword Rickart struck down hard split his head. Starting with that, the students rushed out.

"Revenge!"

Someone shouted. Then, without being told, all the students shouted.

"Revenge!"

The enemies had no momentum from the start, and didn't even have weapons properly, so a nearly one-sided slaughter occurred.

"W, wait a minute!"

"Surrender!"

The enemies asked for final mercy, but not a single student spared them and hacked them all to death. They even had to restrain one student who was swinging his sword at a corpse in excitement.

"Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!"

Not sure what they did to be breathless, but adrenaline pumped out wildly, making them half out of their minds.

Subsequently, people running away wildly appeared, but seeing the corpses of their allies scattered around Rickart's party, they were frightened out of their wits and fled into the pathless forest.

Meanwhile, the burning smell got closer. Thick grey smoke soaring from afar was also visible.

"Let's go. The fire might spread faster than expected. Molti goes in the very front, and I'll take the rear."

Rickart deliberately placed the wounded person at the very front. It was to survive without anyone dying. The students also realized the meaning and, having gained confidence, nodded in agreement.

Rickart slung his scabbard diagonally, and walked at the very back of the procession with his sword drawn.

But had about an hour passed since they started walking? While driving away the fugitives rather than pursuing them, suddenly thick grey smoke covered the party. Before they could even feel the heat of the fire.

As that brief smoke swept past, eyes stung from the acrid smoke and they coughed for a moment, and like a lie, the party walking right in front couldn't be seen. It was the same for the other students as well as Rickart.

"Cough! Cough!"

The smoke moved left, right, front, and back, disturbing people's sense of direction. The path underfoot wasn't visible properly either. From this point, the students just walked looking forward blindly.

But then, someone broke through the smoke and pounced on Bolka. A chilling sound grazed his ear.

Swish!

Startled, Bolka turned his body reflexively to dodge. But his leg got caught on a tree root and he fell, and blood trickled down his cheek as if the sword tip had grazed it.

Firelight shone beyond the thick smoke, and someone glared at Bolka with two eyes glinting with madness.

Due to the wildly disheveled appearance and messy bobbed hair, he looked like an evil spirit risen from hell. Arrows were stuck in his back like a hedgehog. So the leather armor that had run out of life instead of its owner was tattered.

He growled like a beast.

"Do these bastards really see someone as a pushover......!"

It was none other than Lorenz. Having suffered severely from the Rangers directly by touching a quiet beehive for no reason, he seemed to have lost his reason and become full of venom. He was poised to kill anyone he caught.

It was also he who set the fire. As his subordinates died helplessly against the Rangers, he set the fire as a last desperate act.

Bolka tried to avoid the body while getting up hurriedly. As he had lost the grip on his sword while falling, he couldn't fight.

He was off the path and didn't know where was where, but the terrifying murderer approached quickly and tried to stab Bolka's back.

Clang!

A metallic sound was heard. Bolka turned back while falling again. A black cloak fluttered. Surprisingly, it was Ice. It was unbelievable. Why......?

"That way. Go."

Ice spoke indifferently. And blocked Lorenz.

Thick smoke still swirled around, and the nose stung from the acrid smoke. And heat was felt as if the fire was getting closer.

Lorenz and Ice wielded swords at each other without conversation. Then, along the trajectory of the sword Ice wielded, white crystals like snowflakes bloomed.

Actually, a chill was felt for a moment. According to the classification of the Rubens Guild, it was definitely the Flowering Sword.

Startled, Lorenz didn't clash swords deliberately, but tilted his body and hurriedly widened the distance.

"It's you! You bastard made things like this! Hehehe...... Right, if I kill you bastard, I can redeem all this! Son of a bitch! I'll definitely kill you!"

He had definitely heard the report that a kid in a red cloak killed the guild's prospect, but seeing the Flowering Sword in front of his eyes, he seemed unable to think of anything else.

Whether he did or not, Ice focused entirely on the opponent.

Once again, Lorenz's sword flew in. Ice thrust his sword, trying to block using the guard. The moves after that were drawn in his head, but there was a difference in actual combat experience.

There was no sensation on the sword that went to clash. Lorenz spun his sword using his wrist to pull it out, then suddenly threw dirt.

Ice turned his head hurriedly, but that brief opening was dangerous in a fight between skilled people.

His side stung hot. It seemed he was cut quite severely. Ice clenched his teeth and counterattacked in the midst of it. He struck back at the opponent's sword strike intended to finish him. But this time too, it only cut the empty air.

In an instant, the thought that it was the end crossed Ice's mind. A match risking life, the result couldn't be known simply by the level of the sword.

Unless it was a formal duel of knights, which fool would fight fair and square. And depending on the fighting location, there were too many variables. Acrid smoke stabbing the nose, stinging eyes, hot heat and uneven ground, blurred vision.

If they competed purely on sword superiority, Ice might have won lightly. But this was a scene where life and death were divided, a place where all means and methods had to be mobilized.

Mana like snowflakes bloomed beautifully on Ice's sword cutting the empty air futilely, but that was all. Lorenz had moved slightly to the side and held his sword up like an executioner.

Ice fell on the ground putting his hand on it as it was. He turned his body urgently and looked up at Lorenz, but it seemed only Lorenz's sword coming down on his neck, head, or chest remained.

At that time, someone flew in piercing through the firelight. Like an angel whose wings were made of flames. In Ice's eyes, it looked like that.

Rickart held the sword above his head and struck down. However, perhaps Lorenz wasn't just an ordinary guy, his reflexes were almost at a beast level.

He widened the distance from Rickart hurriedly. However, Rickart, who seized the momentum, didn't give Lorenz a chance to reorganize his stance. Continuous sword strikes followed.

Whoosh! Swoosh! Whoosh!

It was a sword that was neither fast nor slow. At a glance, it looked just ordinary. But strangely, Lorenz was pushed back continuously and had trouble seizing a chance to counterattack. A sense of incongruity swept down his spine.

Lorenz felt the incongruity because his level was high; if his level was low, he would have clashed swords without time to feel the incongruity, and his sword would have broken and he would have died long ago.

Then Rickart's cloak came into Lorenz's view. Red cloak...... Wait, this is strange. That guy just used the Flowering Sword before.

Rickart occupied the opponent's space with steps, so-called 'angles'. By the time he thought 'Oops', Lorenz realized there was no more place to retreat.

So, he induced the opponent's mistake with a preemptive attack while pretending to counterattack, just like the method he used against Ice. However, Rickart's eyes, hot yet cold, not only saw through that trick but pierced through it.

Whish!

Thwack!

Lorenz avoided the swords clashing using his wrist, but the distance had already narrowed, so he couldn't block it and half his head was cut off. The upper part of the lower jaw was neatly severed.

Thud.

The headless body fell to the ground. The tongue and teeth were visible on the severed surface. The cut-off head twitched one eye for a very short moment, and the body separated from the brain squirmed for a while. Eventually, both parts of the divided body exhausted their lives.

Rickart immediately put the sword in the scabbard, slung it on his neck, and approached Ice.

"Can you move?"

Ice couldn't answer. His expression looking up at Rickart was like a person who saw something unbelievable. Or a person who experienced a miracle.

Ice felt like time had stopped. In the forest where thick smoke and firelight danced, it felt like the whole world was perishing but an entity descended from the sky was looking down at him.

Ice was dazed for a moment, then suddenly came to his senses and spoke. Blood was gushing out from his side.

"J, just go......"

Just go. Was it because of the wound, or the shame of having abandoned him before.

Rickart looked at him quietly and said firmly.

"You can abandon me, but I don't abandon you. That's the difference between you and me."

Ice bowed his head and spoke in a tone that seemed like pleading, or earnest.

"......No matter if it's you, you can't save me...... Leave me to die......"

"If you keep talking nonsense, I'll knock you out and take you. Here, get on my back. And cover yourself with this. If you don't want to ruin your handsome face."

Rickart said while taking off his cloak as if there was no time to talk. The cloak was already soaked wet.

Rickart pulled Ice's arm and carried him on his back forcibly. And covered him with the wet cloak, and jumped into the flames. Ice buried his face in the boy's shoulder.

How long did they run? Escaping the hell-like place, a field that was unbelievably cool unfolded before their eyes. Clear sunlight and cool breeze welcomed the two boys. It was to the extent that one wondered if heaven and hell were attached this closely. The forest had finally ended.

And there were the students who had already all escaped, and the Beringer Guild adventurers who came to meet them after hearing the news late.

The students waited anxiously, and when Rickart finally came out saving Ice, they unknowingly cheered and ran over. Bolka felt extreme relief washing over him, his expression crumbling as he sat down on the spot with a thud.

All nine had survived. In addition, they killed the Clan Master of the rival guild.

Since the Academy was established, there had been no such event until now. Being ambushed at first, yet counterattacking, killing the ringleader, and surviving.

The students had accomplished something that even experienced and skilled adventurers found difficult to do.

So, the active adventurers of Beringen were in a difficult position about how to report this absurd result.

But now, leaving all that aside, it was time to rest enjoying the sunlight and wind. They were boys and girls who fully deserved it.

Anyway, Rickart tried to lay Ice down and administer first aid. That was resolved by the adventurers stepping forward. They washed the wound, used potions unsparingly, and stitched it with a needle.

Outside the forest was peaceful, enough to make the events that just happened feel like a lie.

Lying on Rickart's cloak, watching white clouds floating slowly in the blue sky, Ice felt drowsiness approaching due to the potion.

Nearby, the sound of students chatting excitedly was heard. Now, without any awkwardness or wariness towards each other, everyone was one.

Ice tried to fall asleep looking at the clear sky as if left alone in an isolated place, when suddenly Rickart's face popped out and blocked his view.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything else?"

Rickart asked. But Rickart's appearance was a spectacle. His skin was red and flushed from breaking through the flames, and his hair was burnt and bubbly like broccoli.

"Kukuku, kukuk......"

Ice laughed amidst the pain.

Rickart's eyes became round as the kid who never laughed in his life laughed. And soon noticing why he was laughing, Rickart also smirked.

Cool weather, warm sunlight, and drizzling nap and a comfortable friend. Nothing else was needed.

Chapter 6 – When a Frozen Heart Melts. End.