Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The power of even the sharpest sword in the world varies depending on who uses it.

Held in the hand of a child, it would only hurt the wielder, but held in the hand of a master, it might cut through an era.

It was clear that the Empire's first Sword Master Ricky from 100 years ago possessed invincible skills unseen before or since.

However, for people of the world to focus only on the martial power he possessed was to know only half about him.

Ricky knew how to utilize the skills he possessed as a tool. When fighting an individual, or a group, he had the ability to devise suitable plans himself to bring about fatal results for the opponent and execute them like a machine.

This was something naturally learned while crossing the line of death countless times in terribly gruesome wars and struggles of resentment against the world.

Win, or die. Gambling-like tactics and fighting methods became more sophisticated as he did them, and from a certain moment, they were no longer gambling.

Therefore, despite his body not yet fully grown, killing riffraff-like bandits was nothing.

"They will gather here again. Since they'll come one or two at a time, just kill them in order. There were eight in all. If there are personnel blocking the retreat, there might be a few more. Still, it won't be many."

Was there presence of mind to count heads in that situation? Anyway, Rickart said calming the wagon horse in the chaotic scene.

But looking at the state, Arno seemed completely out of it and Rickart's words didn't seem to enter his ears.

"Hold your weapon. No special skill is needed to kill bandits. Don't swing, calmly stab the stomach. Not the chest. Because it might get blocked by ribs."

Arno just gasped for breath as if hyperventilating. He couldn't come to his senses at all. He couldn't calm down easily even as time passed.

Daisy was somewhat better, but it was the same that she wasn't normal. Because she stuck close to Rickart and stared piercingly only at Rickart's face.

Rickart silently unbuckled the sword the bandit boss was wearing and brought it to Arno.

Arno stared blankly at the sword Rickart held out, then flinched late in surprise.

"I, I-I-I, I am, I am."

"Snap out of it now. Didn't you say something like a courier's oath?"

It was an oath not to drink alcohol, not to act violently, and to deliver the delivery item to the recipient without fail, there was no content about fighting enemies.

Anyway, Arno hadn't lived without seeing blood. The world now was overflowing just with cruel punishments for criminals. Beheading in the square was basic.

Therefore, he wasn't surprised by seeing blood. It was because Rickart was horrifyingly scary.

Arno barely came to his senses and received the sword Rickart held out with trembling hands.

Only then did Rickart go to the side of the wagon and crouch down to hide. He intended to kill bandits in order as they came one or two at a time.

Arno and Daisy also crouched down on Rickart's left and right. Rickart looked quietly, Arno shook his hands so much that he wouldn't be able to draw the sword in time.

"Draw the sword in advance. The first time is difficult, but you'll get used to it quickly as you do it."

"......Did, did-did-did, did you receive knight training?"

It seemed Arno needed something to convince him. Something to convince him about a 10-year-old killing people nonchalantly. Otherwise, he could only be seen as a being possessed by an evil spirit or the devil itself.

"Yeah, let's say so."

Rickart just answered roughly. And said to Daisy too.

"Don't stick too close. It's uncomfortable to move."

"Yes, okay. Honey."

"......Astounding."

Doing this while taking care of one kid and one adult, Rickart sighed inwardly.

But in the meantime, intermittent screams and laughter were heard from far and near. Among them were shouts like "Baby! At least the baby!".

Then someone came up the mountain pass again. Indeed as Rickart expected, it was a bandit guy coming up with a prisoner.

The prisoner looked wretched, and had an expression full of resignation and despair. Two bandits were giggling.

They came to where the wagon and carts were, and discovered the two corpses Rickart killed. Then the giggling stopped abruptly.

"Did the two fight?"

"What do we do?"

They showed no sadness or anything even though their bosses died. Just thought the two killed each other after some quarrel.

At that moment, Rickart approached quietly from behind, then rushed in and cut one guy's hamstring deep.

"Ugh! What the!"

His knees bent automatically and he fell backward. Then Arno threw himself body and soul in a desperate manner.

Because he used excessive force, he got tangled with a bandit and fell to the floor. Still, he seemed to have succeeded in stabbing with the sword from behind properly.

Rickart had ended one guy by slitting his throat long ago, but Arno climbed on top of the bandit's body and stabbed wildly holding the sword in reverse.

"Fuck! You bastard! You bad! Bastard! Son of a bitch!"

He was in an overly excited state. So the sword tip was damaged quickly because of bones, and the stabbing angle went awry, so he ended up losing the sword from his hand.

Even after that, as excitement didn't subside, he picked up a nearby stone and bashed the already dead corpse's face wildly.

Thud! Thwack! Thud!

"Stop. Stop it. He's already dead."

Only after Rickart stopped him did he flinch and stop. Blood splattered on his face and hands were all bloody.

He stared blankly at Rickart gasping for breath with a highly elated expression.

Seeing the boy's surprisingly calm face that rarely changed, Arno seemed to calm down his heart which was beating like it would burst.

"I, I did it. I did it."

"Yeah, well done. So snap out of it."

Don't know how many times he said it, but Arno might be facing the most exciting moment of his life.

The two women being dragged were wide-eyed in surprise as Rickart and Arno killed the bandits.

"Let's move the corpses roughly out of sight from below and hide again. Move the weapons too."

"Of course! Young Master!"

Arno answered vigorously.

Like that, they continued to deal with bandits dragging prisoners up. Seeing that exactly two came up each time, it seemed they moved in pairs.

When they killed six, Arno suddenly thought if it could be this easy. As fear lifted, bandits looked like trivial things. Did I get scared of these guys?

And he could see Rickart properly, if only a little. There were no dazzling techniques or anything like that. Short, concise, stabbing and cutting vital points without mistake. Abdomen, hamstring, neck, such places.

Saying is easy, and doing it looks easy, but it wasn't easy. Because if he missed by mistake or got tangled, a child's body couldn't match an adult.

Arno had only heard of knight training, and thought they must teach such things. Nobles are indeed terrifying. Looking from the outside, just an innocent kid. Good thing I didn't act up.

But there were no men among the prisoners. Whether killed, fell to death, or succeeded in running away. Couldn't know.

Fortune in misfortune was that Daisy's mother and family were among the rescued prisoners.

The last person captured and brought up was the merchant, the only male prisoner. It seemed they captured him expecting to receive a ransom.

"Of course! Of course! Sirs! You can receive at least ten gold coins as ransom! Without me, the merchant group doesn't run! Hehehe."

Seemed he would do anything to live. Ten gold coins indeed. Excluding royalty or high nobles, even nobles rarely received that much ransom. It was pathetic.

"Do we look like idiots to you? Ten gold coins my ass. If your merchant group offers below five silver coins, we'll just kill you."

As expected, bandits weren't completely ignorant of the world. Indeed, would they have sold just one or two people until now.

"Yeeeh!? T-That is, that......!"

"Shut your mouth. Why is there so much smell of blood?"

"Must be the kids killed uselessly again."

"Fuck, if scolded we all get scolded together. They don't understand words."

Two bandits frowned at the smell of blood vibrating in the air almost reaching where the carts and wagons were. Doing this to make money, but there were guys who sometimes got excited and lost their minds.

Finally reaching where the carts were, bloodstains were here and there on the ground and traces of something being dragged were visible. Corpses weren't seen. No, feet sticking out covered by the wagon were seen.

Feeling something strange, heading to the wagon, suddenly something popped out from the bush next to him. Surprised flailing arms, someone pushed him hard.

"What the, fuck!"

The bandit cursed falling on his butt. And only then did he feel his stomach burning. Blood gushed out wetting clothes.

"What......?"

"Hiik!"

"W-What is it!"

The merchant, the injured person, and another bandit opened their eyes wide as saucers. And discovered a boy standing holding a bloody dagger.

While their gaze was stolen by Rickart, Arno rushed in abruptly from the other side and drove the sword into the remaining bandit's side.

"Ugh!"

As had been the case until now, the bandits couldn't resist even once at the sudden surprise attack. After inflicting fatal injuries, finishing them off was easy.

Rickart practically sticking the knife to stab the neck finishing one off, neither fast nor slow, and Arno also finished the remaining bandit quite steadily without trembling now.

Warm blood gushed out wetting the floor. The merchant just sat on the floor trembling not knowing what was what.

Only then did hidden women come out, and the merchant just rolled his widely opened eyes frantically unable to grasp the situation. Meanwhile, women grabbed the legs of the corpses and dragged them to hide behind the wagon.

Rickart and Arno stood on both sides looking down at the merchant sitting down.

"Can you fight?"

Rickart asked.

"......Yes?"

"I asked if you can fight. Where did the guard go? There was one left."

"Uh...... Right. Right. Where did he go? Ah! R-Ra-Ra, ran away, ran away. Or not? Did he die? I don't know."

"Okay. Then pick up a weapon. Not a spear but something like a sword or axe. We will ambush guys coming up while hiding."

"Uh......"

"Stand up. No time. Don't know when they'll come up."

Arno grabbed the merchant by the collar and forced him up. The merchant just did as told in a dazed state not knowing what he was doing.

Picked up a weapon and followed Arno and Rickart to hide behind the wagon. Turning his head, he saw the corpses of bandits laid side by side. So he was surprised again. What happened here?

analyzing one by one, it wasn't a very difficult thing, but people tend to look only at the result. In the merchant's eyes, it looked like Rickart and Arno handled all of them at once.

"I, I didn't recognize the hero, and committed rudeness."

The merchant, who had been reading the room for a while, opened his mouth with difficulty and said to Arno. Because he couldn't imagine that Rickart led this thing.

"Hero? Me? The hero is the Young Master here. The one who finished those two bosses over there is also the Young Master."

The merchant looked at Rickart once, then looked at the two corpses Arno pointed to. It was something unbelievable, but having seen the boy killing a bandit with his own eyes, he had nothing to say.

By the way, looking closely at the two bosses who died with mouths wide open and eyes turned up, he got an impression of seeing them somewhere. Two? If two?

"They are the Bilton brothers. Heard they were on the run, didn't know they were hiding here. By the way, the Young Master killed these two?"

"I also saw it with my own eyes, but couldn't believe it for a while. But it's true. Uncle merchant saw it earlier too. Slitting the stomach. Look at this guy. Stomach ripped open pouring intestines, couldn't come to his senses and got his throat cut."

Rickart the concerned person said nothing, but Arno blabbered as if it were his own saga.

The merchant looked back at Rickart again. He was wiping the dagger with cloth, and the blade shone like new. As the image of the boy killing a bandit came to mind, goosebumps rose.

"T-That, well, if it's not rude, may I ask your origin? Young Master."

"Stormhearts."

"Stormhearts...... Ah! Perhaps the boy hero who beat a wild boar to death with bare hands was you, Young Master?"

Don't know how far the rumor spread, but it seemed a bit exaggerated.

"Not bare hands, caught with a spear."

"Still amazing. I didn't know you would be this young. Indeed you are a son of the Stormhearts family with high reputation for martial arts. Ah, about 12 years ago, I followed the Battle of Briden as a war merchant, supplying prostitutes to soldiers and earning seed money then. Wasn't the flag a white cross on red background? The Lord charging like a picture on a brown horse, kya. Enemies were scattered in chaos."

Whether because he survived death, or because he thought his life depended on this young boy, the merchant flattered as if oiling his tongue.

Rickart answered roughly not knowing what to do with it.

"Is that so......"

"I am a pigment merchant, as a token of gratitude for saving my life, if we go to the city I will give you a cloak as a gift. Do you like red, do you like blue?"

"Hmm...... Since my family is red background, red would be good."

"Kya, as expected of a noble young master, you have an eye. Originally red cloaks could only be worn by the commander-in-chief commanding His Majesty the Emperor's army. And not all red is the same red. There is a mineral emitting red light called Cinnabar, grinding this makes a red color truly red like blood. And they say people who mined this mineral go mad or die before long. So they utilize prisoners or slaves to mine, so it's more expensive than gold."

What is he talking about? The merchant talked excessively much. seemed like a person who talked a lot when nervous.

"......These days distinguishing colors by title has disappeared, but still purple is only for His Majesty the Emperor......"

"Wait a moment."

"Yes?"

"Originally how long does it take to cross the mountain pass if we hadn't met bandits?"

"Since we started in the morning, we would have passed the mountain pass by late afternoon."

"Then let's get moving slowly."

"Yes?"

"Bosses killed, and even if bandits remain, their number will be fewer than us. It should be okay to go now."

Hearing it, it was correct. Surviving bandits would be one or two at most?

"Before that, shouldn't we cut the heads?"

"What heads?"

"The Bilton brothers were quite famous fugitives. Rheinfurt isn't far so we can take them without pickling in salt. If brought to the Adventurer Guild, the income will be quite salty I bet?"

Is that so? Hadn't thought about it. Rickart wondered what to do, then decided to just cut the heads. Actually, sawing was a more correct expression than cutting.

Putting heads in a cloth sack, the bottom part quickly became soaked with blood and blood dripped. Put that in a basket again, and loaded on the wagon.

Horses and donkeys were fed plenty of carrots. Since they suffered somewhat. People pushed the wagon together so they could barely cross the rock.

At the scene, bloodstains and eight corpses were laid side by side, and two of them had no heads. No one buried them.

Reaching the highest point of the mountain pass and going down again, men who had been hiding or ran away showed up one by one and joined.

Even though they abandoned their families and ran away, women accepted them. Abandoning kids and running away was same for them too, and if not accepted, future livelihood would be difficult. No choice. And they were people used to living like that.

Counting the dead or missing, it seemed to be about seven or eight. Victims were pitiable but living people lived, so they had to live tough lives again.

Daisy looked happy continuously, and Arno walked proudly puffing out his chest excessively as if very proud of something.

Rickart felt the world hadn't changed much between 100 years ago and now. Bandits existed then, powerless people existed, and living was pain for everyone.

Sun set when they came down the mountain pass completely. People lit a campfire and prepared to camp.

Rickart sat by the campfire with Daisy sticking like a leech by "his side". And thought. Words father said. Honor, salvation, family, things like that.

Not too bound by father's words, but not just letting them flow away either.

Rickart fell into speculation, letting various thoughts blow in and out of his head like wind as if front and back doors were open.

The gaze of people glancing at such a boy was very strange. Looking like seeing a hero, and also looking like seeing a creepy devil.

It was true he saved them, but nonchalantly splitting human bellies and cutting throats was far from a prince on a white horse.

As night deepened, vision was locked, instead frog croaking sounds waking from hibernation, Scops owl sounds, firewood burning sounds were heard more and more clearly.

And in the night sky, stars shone 100 years ago and now.