Chapter 29

Chapter 29

A campfire was burning in a deserted house by the roadside, and nine people were sitting around it in a circle. It was Rickart's party returning to Beringen.

They didn't want to even look at the forest for a while, so they were returning to the Academy by taking a somewhat longer detour, not the way they came.

Camping overnight, the students took their places comfortably.

As if they became a couple in the meantime, Molti and Lara were stuck close together, a few were trimming weapons, and some were roasting sweet potatoes and potatoes in the campfire as snacks.

Rickart sat leaning against the wall with his knees together, looking at a piece of the night sky through a crack in the deserted house.

"First, feel mana. Second, apply mana to physical activity. Third, utilize mana in actual combat. Fourth, inject mana into the weapon beyond the body. Fifth, become a Sword Master and kill everything with a sword that cuts anything. Is that right?"

Bolka's last words were a joke, but anyway, these five steps were the Beringen Guild's classification method to reach Sword Master.

Compared to the somewhat poetic Rubens Guild, it was dry, but still a more subdivided classification.

"Yeah."

Jerome, who was poking the potatoes in the fire with a twig to see if they were cooked, answered. He was a student who used to hang around with Ice.

Perhaps because they survived a life-or-death crisis together, they seemed to share what they originally hid strictly and didn't teach.

But listening like this, there seemed nothing particular to hide. It wasn't something that worked just by knowing with the head. So the professor also taught only to students who felt mana.

"I can practice up to the second step alone somehow, but from the third step, it seems really difficult."

Lara, who tied her short hair back, said. Now she was almost inside Molti's huge embrace.

"Indeed, mana or whatever, I couldn't think of anything."

Handling mana was a task requiring high concentration. Therefore, it was truly difficult to focus on mana while sharp blades were swinging wildly in front of eyes and life was at stake.

So except for Ice, there was no student here who reached the third step. But Ice was at the fourth step.

Even he almost died in actual combat, so walking the path of the sword was truly difficult and dangerous.

"But Ricky is strong even without handling mana. I wonder if mana has a big meaning unless one becomes a Sword Master."

Molti said. Then everyone looked at Rickart, and Rickart, who was staring blankly, snapped out of it belatedly.

"Huh?"

"No. Saying you fight well."

"Uh......"

"So is mana important, or swordsmanship important, it's difficult, difficult......"

Both would be important, there was no way only one was important. However, it was about choice and concentration, but was there a choice? Bolka worried about such things while not even feeling mana.

"In my opinion, if you master swordsmanship to the extreme, mana doesn't seem strictly relevant. A well-sharpened sword alone is enough to kill an opponent."

"But they say the Sword of Light cuts everything. It means it cuts armor and shields and everything. Then even if you master swordsmanship to the extreme, I don't think you can win against a Sword Master. Doesn't the duel itself not stand?"

"It depends on how you define that extreme. If you dodge all the Sword Master's attacks and only succeed in your attacks, wouldn't the swordsmanship side win?"

"But having become a Sword Master, they wouldn't be completely ignorant of swordsmanship."

"That is true, but what I'm saying is when swordsmanship is mastered to the extreme."

"So what is that extreme?"

Bolka and Delphi exchanged words as if debating. Molti thought to himself watching them, that's why you guys can't date.

However, since they were all students of the adventurer guild, it was an interesting topic.

As the conversation between the two was about to get somewhat heated, Molti dragged Rickart in again. Contrary to his huge build, Molti was surprisingly emotional and had a tendency to mediate conflicts between people.

"Ricky, what do you think?"

"......Huh?"

"About a duel between a person who can't handle mana but mastered swordsmanship to the extreme, and a Sword Master. Who do you think will win?"

"Well, aren't both meaningless. It sounds like wordplay."

The first Sword Master, the rare murderer who shocked the world, the One Man Army. That was Rickart's previous life, but the person himself didn't have much thought about swordsmanship or Sword Master.

Because he himself didn't know where the golden flames burning along the blade originated, nor did he learn the sword separately from anyone.

In fact, compared to the capability of his previous life, current capability was almost at an ant level. However, since he had mastered something in his own way, he was unmatched so far because he unfolded the best sword at that moment as weak as he was, or as uncomfortable as he was.

So Rickart thought people were a bit foolish when looking at others. Why do people practice such things? Can they do it only if they bother to practice? Just can't do it?

In this respect, Bolka, who learned something in his own way after getting beaten by Rickart, was amazing. Because Rickart had zero talent for teaching anyone.

Anyway, Rickart couldn't afford to pay attention to such things right now. Because he was swallowing the frustration and lumps piled up like poison inside alone after the deserter incident.

Molti seemed somewhat disappointed by Rickart's bland answer, so he found the next target. It was Ice.

Coincidentally, Rickart and Ice were 1st and 2nd in rank, and one couldn't execute mana, and one had learned Mana Drive to a high level.

"Ice, what do you think?"

"Sword Master wins."

Ice said conclusively without thinking.

"Oh? Why? The reason?"

"Because only those who feel mana and reach the extreme of swordsmanship become Sword Masters."

"Clear. Here, heard that?"

Molti said looking at Bolka and Delphi. According to Ice's answer, Bolka lost.

"Just was curious."

"I was also just curious."

A slightly awkward atmosphere flowed between Bolka and Delphi.

Whether they did or not, Ice spoke to Rickart again who was staring at the crack in the deserted house blankly.

"Are you okay?"

"......Huh?"

"Asking if you are okay."

"Ah. Well, I'm okay. Nothing bad."

"You know, Ricky."

"Yeah. Speak."

"I don't know what you went through in the past, and I won't bother to ask. Just as you don't ask about my past. Only, I hope you cheer up."

Rickart had been blank all along after the deserter incident, and finally smiled slightly.

"I didn't know you could speak so well."

Since he wasn't the type to speak long originally, Ice also just answered with a smile.

But since he was so handsome, when he smiled after always having a cold face, it was truly more beautiful than moonlight. Two female students unknowingly gasped, 'Heok', and inhaled vain air.

"Total cheat. Fuck."

Bolka grumbled. Then students burst into laughter here and there.

The next day, Rickart's party walked the road towards Beringen again. However, since there were no cities in the middle, they rented a village barn to spend the night, or were treated by a rural Lord.

There was no special reason, but it was because they were satisfied when they occasionally entrusted requests to the Beringen Adventurer Guild. Although bewildered, he didn't feel bad. Mead, freshly roasted meat, and soft bread soothed the travel fatigue quite a lot.

As there were nine well-armed people, they could pass through roads with poor security without any trouble. They didn't meet highwaymen, and bandits just watched from afar.

It wasn't simply because the armament state or the number was large. It was because an inexplicable atmosphere or aura was felt.

Now the students were completely different from when they left to support the first request. Eyes, composure, breathing, mindset, everything. It could be clearly felt from not being scared, not avoiding eyes, and staring quietly at thugs.

Although not lions or tigers yet, it was a wolf-like energy that could overwhelm decent miscellaneous things.

And being an adventurer was actually nothing different, it was like a private detective or private police. Just passing through the road had the effect of stabilizing public order to some extent.

Indeed, worldly matters have pros and cons. Students dying is definitely a dark side, but seeing this, there are positive things too.

Anyway, walking for five days, they could finally arrive at Beringen. Entering the headquarters building below the hill, the adventurers there looked at them as if they were fascinating. Because they became celebrities unintentionally.

"Are the students this time extraordinary, or has our level risen. Anyway, you all suffered. When I heard the news, I couldn't believe it at all. Killing that Jackal Lorenz."

Dunkel said. But for some reason, he was sitting at a table in light armed attire, not as a bartender. He was wearing a leather vest and a dark brown cloak with a hood.

"That person made a fatal mistake of touching the Ranger village."

"He probably didn't know the situation there in detail either. It was a surprise operation. Anyway, if things go wrong, you just have to fold. Dragging it for nothing leads to that state. Must have been impatient too. Anyway, welcome back. By the way, Ricky, why is your hair like that?"

"Singed by fire."

Rickart's hair grew a little now and was in a state more like broccoli than before. Should just shave it all off or something.

"But aren't you working as a bartender today?"

Bolka asked.

"Ah, I have some business."

Dunkel looked at Ice somewhat meaningfully, then turned his gaze to Rickart.

" The Master wants to see you. Ricky."

"Me? Why?"

"Why would it be. Because you are the number one contributor to this matter. You guys rest in the city a bit, or return to the dormitory slowly. Don't spend too much money on brothels or gambling. Not time to buy expensive equipment yet. Ricky follow me."

Dunkel stood up from his seat. And taking only Rickart, left the building and went up the hill road. It was the first time. Entering the center city.

Passing the gate, many neat old buildings stood. Usually for accommodation, and in wartime used as defensive facilities, buildings were stuck close to the castle wall.

Arriving at the 'real' Beringen Guild headquarters building, it wasn't as grand a building as thought. Rather, the outer wall plaster peeled off a little, revealing bricks here and there.

"Young Lord."

Before entering the building, Dunkel suddenly called Rickart differently from usual.

"......Huh?"

"The Elder is inside. Since he is also a noble, please be exceptionally careful with words and actions. Especially, you shouldn't mumble or lie to the questions asked. No matter what you do, you can absolutely never deceive him."

Elder? Not the Guild Master?

"I originally can't lie."

"That's a relief. Then go in."

Dunkel opened the door. He didn't go in. Rickart entered the building alone, and it felt like entering a temple with all chairs removed. It was a place where sound echoed loudly.

Clunk.

The door closed. Being alone in such a place, he felt a truly indescribable feeling.

Thud. Thud. Thud......

Rickart walked slowly, looking around. There was no light lit inside, only lit by light coming from outside, so the atmosphere was subdued.

"You have a smaller build than expected, Young Lord."

Someone whose upper body was hidden in shadow said with hands behind his back from a distance. He was wearing a sword at his waist. It was a somewhat old voice. As it was a place where sound echoed so much, speaking quietly was clearly heard.

"Hello. I am Rickart of the Kaldeberne family."

Rickart introduced himself formally for the first time since leaving home. He wasn't intimidated, nor was he unnaturally bold by forcing it.

"I am the Court Count of Kelbron, the Emperor's Champion, Helauman. Speak comfortably."

Court Count meant a status higher than a Count, a person who managed the Emperor's territory by proxy. Meaning, Rickart's father couldn't even compare, and he was a higher noble than the Kaldeberne main family.

But apart from high and low titles, nobles had the right to speak equally to each other. Nobles with common sense acted like that. Only royalty or imperial family could differentiate from nobles.

Anyway, Emperor's Champion meant a Sword Master.

Others would have fainted and prostrated immediately, but Rickart was calm.

"You said you wanted to see me."

"That is so. I wanted to see with my own eyes. A promising talent who cut the neck of a strong opponent at the age of 11."

Although he heard it often on the way, it seemed Lorenz had quite a high notoriety.

"I was lucky."

"Luck is also skill."

"If you say so, well, I guess so."

At Rickart's answer, Helauman fell silent for a moment, then walked slowly thud thud and came out of the shadow.

With pure white hair swept back neatly, he had a truly strangely looking impression. He definitely looked old, but his skin was clean like porcelain, so it was ambiguous to express.

His eyes were blue, and he naturally concealed the momentum that automatically pressured the opponent.

He approached Rickart, then stared quietly from the front keeping a little distance.

"Strange. Even a mere commoner possesses a very small amount of mana, but Young Lord has not a single drop of mana."

"Yes...... Is that so......"

Honestly, Rickart didn't understand what he meant by that.

"It is a natural principle that without a seed, a bud cannot sprout. If you can't handle mana, you can't become a Sword Master. Isn't it regrettable?"

"Well, I don't know well."

"Hmm......"

In Helauman's view, Rickart seemed to have no ambition or pure desire to become strong.

Outwardly he was a young boy, he wondered if he was just born with sword handling skills.

And a slightly disappointed look flashed across his face. As he said, if he can't handle mana, he wouldn't become a Sword Master anyway.

Still, it was rare for a noble to enter the Academy, and it was true he did a commendable thing, so he thought he should have a conversation even lightly.

Helauman smiled gently as if looking at a young grandson and said.

"Do you know how old I am, Young Lord?"

"Honestly speaking, you look hard to guess."

"Hahaha, the Empress Dowager also often says such things. My age is 122 this year."

Rickart couldn't help but be surprised at this part. Can a person live that long? And being this healthy? He wondered if he was joking.

Watching Rickart's reaction, Helauman smiled more contentedly. Cute.

"It will be hard to believe but it is true. Since I live almost like a hermit, most people think my son is the Court Count. Is it grandson now? Or great-grandson? Don't know well. Because I have no interest. Anyway, I saw that legendary Sword Master, Ricky, in person while alive. Isn't it surprising?"

Eh? Rickart scrutinized Helauman again. No matter how much he searched his memory, he couldn't remember at all.

"......Surprising."

"I was originally born as a son of a swordsmanship guild in the Hilsen region. There I polished martial arts with brothers under father's teaching. But one day, that Ricky came and killed all my parents, brothers, and relatives. I hid in the closet and watched it all."

Rickart had nothing to say. But his next words were a bit laughable.

"However, I have a grateful heart towards him. Do you know why? Because I could see his perfect sword skill. Golden flames burning along the blade, scattered blood. It was so beautiful that tears almost came out. Ah, even now when I think of that time occasionally, I shudder."

In Rickart's view, he looked like a slightly crazy person. Not caring whether his flesh and blood died or not because he was too deeply into the sword. Is it because he is too old.

Helauman continued to speak.

"Every single sword strike was something I had never seen before, never dreamed of. It was creative but had no grotesqueness, no deviation. Moreover, it felt like a poem from beginning to end. So what I am still curious about is, did he do it thinking of the conclusion from the beginning, or did it become like that just by improvisation of moments. I haven't found that answer for 100 years yet."

Rickart listened to his words and remembered a little only now. Hilsen swordsmanship guild. They chased to kill me to make a name, so eventually I barged into the stronghold and killed them all.

At that time I thought I killed them all, but it seems not. To think he was hiding. Since I didn't particularly search or anything.

Anyway, meeting a person who was alive in the previous life, should I say glad, or sorry, or difficult to say what.

Still, with a sorry heart, he wanted to tell the answer. Actually, there was no answer. Just recalling the memory of that time.

"That, well, wouldn't it be neither."

"Mm?"

"When entering the dojo first, wouldn't he have seen it all. How the fight would flow, what variables there would be, how to kill...... So, actually having no thought but it just happened like that, wouldn't you have seen it like that."

Rickart answered salvaging that memory as much as possible.

Then, Helauman suddenly stiffened his body and trembled. Like being hit by lightning.