Chapter 267

Chapter 267

***

Leading rough men was truly not an easy task. Because if bored they engage in fistfights and if severe even sword fought happen, and they cause unexpected accidents left and right.

If even a little bit of dissatisfaction piles up they unhesitatingly rebel, and while looking for an opportunity if they think the leader had weakened they would often bite off his neck like wolves.

Therefore looking at criminal organizations like bandit groups or thieve guilds, the leader changes frequently. Since the leaders of such groups know themselves that they don't know when they'll die, they were bound to be highly extravagant and degenerate.

In that regard setting aside right and wrong Thorval was definitely an amazing figure. Because leading rough Vikings, being alive with intact limbs while growing that old was a rare thing in itself.

His method of leading the warrior group was to sometimes show severe capriciousness amidst clear rules and harsh punishments.

While enjoying a banquet with subordinates he would suddenly kill a person next to him without any particular reason, and while generously forgiving a subordinate's big mistake he would sometimes beat them to death even over a small mistake.

While sometimes weeping sadly all day over a subordinate's death, at other times he was so cold-blooded one would wonder if he was even human.

He was literally a person exuding beast-like charisma. It was an innate temperament, meaning he was the optimal man to lead uneducated beasts.

To his subordinates he was the boss, the leader, and a father. A bad-tempered and violent father, and a father who sometimes gave warm affection.

Perhaps they followed him for a long time addicted to that warm affection coming from capriciousness once in a while. Since by nature humans were more vulnerable to rewards given intermittently and irregularly than predictable ones.

The unexpectedly lax security was also attributed to such capriciousness and innate temperament, or personality type. Although speaking nicely it's being broad-minded, and speaking badly it's being defenseless.

Anyway such a boss died. Considering personal security was so lax there was nothing to be surprised about, but the subordinates weren't like that. It was a huge shock and hard to believe.

Subordinates scattered here and there in the city ran over in surprise. Prayed please just let him be unhurt. Or, at least to execute the bastard who committed such a deed with the most terrible punishment.

But such anger on the verge of exploding ended up cooling down coldly in an instant.

The person who ran to the building Thorval stayed in first felt that way first. Instead of a fierce volcanic eruption his emotions cooled down Iceland-cold.

At first even keeping his eyes open he couldn't see the reality. A very giant beast, a tiger the size of a house perhaps? Or, a dragon?

An overwhelming energy hard to even reach with imagination assaulted his soul before his sight. In the place Thorval stayed, whenever someone walked out one step.

Though he hadn't actually seen a dragon, perhaps if he saw one wouldn't it feel like this? A burning sword, blazing eyes. Meeting that the person felt his body stiffen coldly.

Even before the thought that this doesn't seem right brushed his mind, comrades who ran belatedly stormed into the building.

"Boss! Boss!"

"Which bastard is it!?"

"He's still alive right!?"

Shouting urgently the Vikings stormed in. However they too ended up stiffening immediately. Because they felt their bodies being crushed by the overwhelming energy filling the venue.

Rickart who was emitting that energy spoke resolutely.

"He died. Thorval died by the hand of Gundar's son, Ingvar Gundarsson."

It was a plain truth with nothing to add or subtract. However the Vikings who heard those words couldn't spit out anger even though they was supposed to.

Because they couldn't even imagine there would be a person with a more overwhelming energy than Thorval in the world. Leaving aside fighting skills, in terms of energy, or charisma. No, in the first place comparison was impossible. Because it was hard to view Rickart as a human at all.

Perhaps, they didn't know if a dragon had turned into a person. They felt that way.

However Thorval's subordinates continued to gather, and the personnel unable to enter the building blocked by the people in front shouted from outside not knowing the reason.

"Go in! Go in!"

"What about the Boss!? What happened to the Boss!?"

"Hey! Why aren't you going in!?"

Those unable to enter the building couldn't understand why their comrades weren't going in further. Then, suddenly a half-formed scream was heard from inside.

"Uaaack!"

"Don't push!"

"Get out! Get out!"

Rather the ones who went inside began to push outwards. Those pushed back unexpectedly soon realized why they were pushed back.

It was because Rickart roughly kicked the Viking who was right in front of the entrance. As the sole of his foot slammed *kkwang!* into the torso like a stamp, ribs broke and internal organs burst in a single breath, and a burly adult man flew backward *huk* and collided with his comrades.

A sound like compressed air bursting was made.

*Ppeo-eok!*

The comrades grabbed the one who flew back without knowing what was going on, but he had already died instantly foaming at the mouth with his eyes rolled back. It was violence far exceeding human level.

When they raised their heads, at the entrance a person covered in blood was staring at them with eyes literally, not metaphorically, burning.

"If one lives like a wild dog one dies like a wild dog. Since I am also originally a wild dog wouldn't there be nothing mutually unfair about it?"

They couldn't possibly know what he was saying. But what was clear was, even without deliberately checking Thorval's corpse it seemed clear he was dead.

The inside of the building seen behind him was literally a sea of blood wondering what happened in that short time. Chunks of meat that were originally humans, only occasionally with forms barely recognizable.

Wherever one gwent in the world revenge was one of the common human actions. If the boss died it was right to naturally take revenge, but that too was something that had to be done depending on the person.

Vikings were rough and reckless, but on the other hand since they had lived lives of killing and being killed they were people with this sense sharply developed. It didn't take a long time to reach the judgment that the person in front of their eyes, this person was not human.

Abandoning revenge or whatever, a father-like leader or whatever, they threw it all away and fled.

Only then did Rickart withdraw his strength. The sword that had been enveloped in flames was like a clean new one, but his body was already stained.

Seemed giving a bit too much fear at once was needed so they wouldn't needlessly harm Ingvar or the Hellangi tribe, so it did feel somewhat excessive.

Originally by nature he liked using proper strength without being excessive, but since he said he would help.

The inside of the building was soaking with blood on the floor so when Alimantar walked out a splashing *chalbak, chalbak* sound was heard. Enough to know who it was just by hearing the footsteps, Ingvar hesitated somewhat.

"Th, what in the world is this......"

Ingvar was too surprised to even speak properly, and Alimantar said something perhaps elf-like, or like himself.

"My clothes got dirty."

Rickart merely answered with a smile, and looking back at Ingvar said.

"You packed the molars right?"

"Pardon? Ah, yes......"

"Burn it."

"Pardon?"

"I'm saying burn this entire building."

"Ah...... Yes."

"Before burning it pack everything to pack. Things that seem valuable."

"Yes."

Ingvar did as Rickart ordered. Going back to the room where Thorval's corpse was, he packed the money pouches and jewelry scattered near the broken table, and also his sword he had snatched to kill him.

Also packed Thorval's helmet with horns attached for showing off though impractical. Every single one was spoils of war.

Coming out he sprinkled oil from lanterns or lamps here and there, then took out firewood from the central hearth and threw it. Since Nordian buildings were mostly wooden structures, the fire spread in an instant.

Packing what to pack and setting the fire he came outside, but Rickart and Alimantar weren't seen. Finding it strange he looked around searching the surroundings but they weren't seen.

When he hurriedly ran to the dock, that mysterious boat moving only by wind without human power was already in the middle of leaving.

Looking at that leaving boat Ingvar felt the events that happened today were like a dream. Not a nightmare, but a heart-pounding dream.

The fear before doing it scattered away flying like the wind, and now he merely pushed the widely spread sail. And what remained was gratitude along with a sense of accomplishment.

The Hellangi tribe ddid not live leaving enemies alone. Since he kept that shackle and honor, it was now time to fulfill his duty as an adult. Protecting his family that was.

Ingvar waved his hand towards the mysterious boat getting further away. Vigorously. Far behind the building was in the middle of blazing greatly.

The adventure of a person who transcended humans in many meanings, and an existence who wasn't human in the first place continued.

Thought they had a shockingly bloody scuffle once, it wasn't to the extent of making fatigue pile up.

The elf's boat advanced steadily riding the wind, and occasionally lying on the stern looking at the blue sky the thought that it would be fine to die like this fleetingly brushed past.

The boat advancing coolly exited the fjord and reached the sea before a day even passed. A vast ocean spread out, usually boats came and went along the coastline but the elf's boat wasn't like that.

Just went straight towards the vast ocean and literally crossed the sea. Honestly Rickart was slowly getting anxious but unlike the boats he had ridden so far it merely went forward smoothly without swaying.

But were we going knowing where to go?

Rickart who was lying on the stern only raised his head and leaning on the railing spoke to Alimantar who was manipulating the wind. His hood was blown off by the wind fluttering his beautiful long blonde hair, which was as beautiful as a painting at any time, anywhere.

"Hey, Ali, where are we going now?"

"Empire."

"Do you know where the Empire is?"

"Isn't everything below Skonbjorn Island the Empire's territory?"

It was his first time hearing of Skonbjorn Island, but from the context he could tell it was the land where Nordians lived.

"......Ali how old did you say you were?"

"762."

"Wasn't it the ancient Empire back then?"

"Don't know. Since I've never visited. Just going as seen in the records."

"......What if there's no end no matter how much we go?"

"Then we'll have to turn back."

"How much food do we have?"

"Well, I almost don't eat. Ricky eats most of it."

"Isn't that too irresponsible?"

"If you're anxious tell me in advance. I'll turn the boat around."

Rickart thought for a moment then shook his head.

"Even if we reach the end of the world and the seawater falls down, this boat can fly so it should be fine."

"Right."

"Let's keep going."

"Understood."

The boat went forward cutting the surface of the sea smoothly without swaying. Of course it swayed very minutely, but that bizarrely presented a feeling like a cradle.

So Rickart felt sleepy. The wind also seemed warm. Though he knew from experience that the north was cold and the south was warm, they hadn't come down enough to feel a temperature difference.

Anyway wouldn't I die if the boat overturns while dozing off? But strangely, Rickart felt like he didn't care even if he died.

It was a feeling of 'it was fine even if I die' originating from a certain euphoria, different from letting go of life falling into deep despair. It wasn't supreme bliss. If anything it was tranquil.

Bizarrely enough it was the exact same thought diverging from exact opposites but the felt feeling was also exact opposites.

Since he didn't know where the misfortune originated from in the first place wouldn't happiness be the same. Rickart left his softly closing eyes alone.

"Ricky, Ricky."

Didn't know how much he slept but Alimantar's voice was heard in his sleep. In the past he would have reflexively jumped up and drawn his sword when someone touched his body, but not now.

Rickart slowly opened his eyes. The first thing that entered his eyes were countless stars illuminating the night sky. And Alimantar was looking down like a soft moon.

Rickart raised his body. His body didn't move well. It was none other than because he slept in a place where the wind blew. Seemed his facial muscles had also stiffened a bit so he forcibly moved them a few times.

When he completely got up from his seat while loosening his stiff body, the boat was parked on a pebble-paved beach, not a Sandy beach.

"Where is this place?"

"Empire."

"No...... I mean where in the Empire. You don't know right?"

"We came according to the records. If we came correctly this place is probably the place called 'Haiden'."

"......"

Rickart didn't feel surprised or glad or such. Just, he felt it was coincidental.

"Was there a sea in Haiden? What do the records say?"

"In the very old days there was exchange between elves and humans. This is where that exchange took place. I heard we taught them how to herd sheep, how to make clothes, how to handle metal, writing, things like that. Of course humans and elves didn't just have good relations. Rather, mostly it was not good."

"Was the word Haiden an elvish word?"

"Yes."

"What does it mean?"

"'A place full of good will.'"

"......"

Rickart got off the boat. And walked. Welcoming the dew-like stars.

Where his footsteps reached after walking for a long time there was a place with only burnt ruins left. It was the place where the Cult of Condemnation's Sanctuary was.

Though everything was devastated and it became a place where no one lived, someone returned there and looked up at the sky.

Like welcoming the rain closing his eyes and looking up at the sky, Rickart welcomed the pouring starlight wearing a single sword at his waist.

I am happy. As Caldebert wished.

Tears and love, friendship and hope. Summarizing my life in a few words it was like this. So I am happy.

I was originally a person working as a shepherd in Haiden, in the northern part of the Empire. As was common for people at the time, I was one of the numerous orphans who didn't know their parents.

Didn't know since when I worked as a shepherd, but lived feeding grass to sheep moving here and there in the Haiden fields for 10 years almost disconnected from the world.

Just as colorful flowers bloom in the fields depending on the season, when night came stars bloomed profusely in the black sky. Cool wind blew in summer, and the world was full of snow in winter.

I had no greed, didn't know what boredom was, wasn't happy, and wasn't unhappy.

Just as stars shine when night comes, flowers bloom in the field, and snow falls when winter comes, I merely lived doing the shepherd work.

Then one day......

Volume 54 - Going Round and Round. End.

Complete.

Thank you for watching so far.