The Warrior's Ballad

Chapter 114

Translator: WilliaJust a very short moment is enough. A very short moment. That is the time it takes to kill a person.

The enemies stared blankly for a brief second at Ricardt leaping down from a large rock. A beam of light cut through the air.

The one with pointed ears neither blocked nor counterattacked, but instead stepped back far away as if fleeing. But the others were not the same.

They hurriedly pulled out throwing weapons or thrust forward with hooked spears, but they were hopelessly slow.

It felt as if the wind brushed past, and then everything flashed before their eyes, followed by a burning sensation in their necks, arms, or shoulders. That was their final memory, sensation, and consciousness.

Once they had allowed Ricardt into close range, attack or defense became meaningless.

And numerical superiority also meant nothing. A handful of six or seven armed men dying without even realizing they were dying took only a very short moment.

Ricardt, though no blood stained his blade, habitually flicked his sword and stared at the one who had fled into the forest's shade.

That man looked back and forth between the burning sword and Ricardt with eyes full of fear and greed. Though he could not fight Ricardt head-on, it seemed Ricardt's heart was something he desired.

“You’re Ricky, aren’t you? Red Cloak.”

The opponent spoke. Wasn’t that something he already knew? Ricardt neither affirmed nor denied.

But Ricardt couldn’t help but let out a mocking smile, as he could see through the man's lowly nature all too clearly.

"Now I see you have no understanding of demons at all... You're nothing more or less than a pig steeped in gluttony."

“Say whatever you want. There are many of us, and we’re growing stronger by the day. Eventually, you’ll fall in misery too.”

“Just because the amount of mana increases, nothing changes. Only a deep and broad mind gives greater insight. Not that you'd understand even if I told you.”

Ricardt approached to kill him, but as expected, he ran away.

However, his movements were not ordinary. Like the one who had jumped off a cliff not long ago, he leaped high beyond normal human physical limits and landed atop a tree branch.

Had he developed a Mana Drive that lightened the body? But it didn’t seem immediately helpful in combat. If it were, he would have done something with it.

He stood on the branch and looked down at Ricardt, but when Ricardt made a move to throw a rock, he swiftly fled. After all, rock throwing was a powerful technique favored by humans since primitive times.

He vanished in an instant, stepping from branch to branch.

Ricardt paused briefly to think, then chased in the direction the man had vanished. Not so much to catch him, but to identify other enemies.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before more and more personnel were gathering at the site where the signal flare had gone off.

Spread out widely, then converging at the center of the circle, they could be found easily without needing to search through the forest.

Ricardt hid behind bushes or trees, then pounced like a tiger to finish them off in one strike.

Breaking into small units had its advantages, but its disadvantages were just as clear. Chief among them was the risk of being defeated individually.

Moreover, the enemies had never even imagined they would be counterattacked, so they couldn’t even flee properly. In an instant, communications were lost, and the entire network began to break down.

Meanwhile, some had reached the peak where the party was hiding. Upon seeing Bori guarding the rough and narrow path, they didn’t attack immediately but instead began trying something from a distance.

They were throwing some concoction made by mixing tar with other strange substances and shooting fire arrows at it.

It seemed meaningless on the rocky mountain at first, but soon thick, choking smoke began to rise. The smoke was far denser than expected.

Bori followed Ricardt’s judgment, but he also knew that if the situation changed, he had to adapt. So he left the passage and charged toward the enemies.

He drew the sword that was once called the Phantom Sword, which he had renamed to Nameless Sword, and a color like starlight in the dark night covered the blade.

However, unlike Ricardt, Bori had a hard time dodging troublesome throwing weapons and nets while fighting. A slight mistake could have led to him being captured or seriously injured.

So he pushed the enemies alone, then retreated, and attacked again, repeating the process.

Like Ricardt, it should have been finished in one blow and moved on to the next, but since Bori was in a position of defense, that was difficult.

The enemies tried to find a detour up the mountain to surround Bori from front and back. However, there, they ended up facing the Hartmann family, Bremen, and Marie.

Since they had originally come targeting Bori, they wondered who these people were. No matter how good the communication network was, it was difficult for the information from the first discoverer to be delivered accurately and completely.

Hartmann and the others felt as if their hearts dropped. It was because thick smoke was rising from below, and they feared there might be a fire. In reality, there was no fire.

The enemies were just as flustered, but Marie, who had much combat experience, drew her sword Ricky. The length and width of the blade were almost perfectly proportioned, a beautifully crafted sword.

With that sword, she slashed swiftly like a fierce wave or a whip, and one of the enemies who had climbed up holding on here and there had his neck sliced and fell down.

The people below were startled. The thick smoke had also obstructed the enemies’ view, so they didn’t know exactly what was happening above.

“What’s going on?”

“Looks like there are more enemies.”

“Wasn’t there supposed to be only one Sword Master?”

Apparently, many of the personnel had been temporarily hired.

Capturing a Sword Master was extremely dangerous and difficult, but they had thought it doable with a large number of people deployed.

However, if there were more enemies, that changed things. Wasn’t this different from the contract?

So they immediately spoke to the person from the clan who had hired them.

“There are more enemies. You’ll have to increase the payment.”

“How much more do you need?”

“Double for each additional head.”

Was this a joke or nonsense? True to their mercenary nature, they laid out ridiculous terms the moment they saw a chance.

It was unknown how much money the Rubens Clan had, but no matter how much, they couldn’t accept such a proposal.

Of course, there was room for negotiation, but there was no time for that in this urgent situation.

“Step aside. We’ll handle this ourselves.”

So the swordsmen affiliated with the Rubens Clan had no choice but to step forward themselves.

The mercenaries backed off without hesitation, as if to say, "Do whatever you want." They had no regrets. They just needed to work for the amount they were paid. Why risk their lives for more than that?

The swordsmen of the Rubens Clan, using their unique technique to lighten their bodies, leaped swiftly up to where Marie was. The terrain was such that a group couldn't rush in at once, but they were an exception.

As soon as they appeared, Marie swung her sword as if she had been waiting.

A purple flash cut through the smoky haze and surged forward, and the members of the Rubens Clan became disoriented and two of them died absurdly, just like that.

But rather than being shocked or saddened by their comrades’ deaths, their eyes widened with greed upon seeing Marie’s sword. Their thought processes had long since been twisted by greed.

“There’s another Sword Master?”

“Spread out wide!”

“Someone go up!”

Their greed seemed to transcend even the fear of death, and they looked at Marie as if drooling. Like a swarm of gnats, they flew around her and began to surround her in the rough terrain.

As Marie began to be surrounded from all sides, she felt troubled. If she attacked aggressively, her companions would be exposed, but if she only defended, she would be surrounded.

Moreover, their light movements, no professional acrobat could match them. There seemed to be some special method of mana manipulation.

It was like a fight where both sides held advantageous and disadvantageous cards, teetering like walking on thin ice.

Marie had a final option. She could abandon her companions. If she were alone, she might be able to break through the enemies and join up with Bori, or even if not, she could just kill those in her way and move forward.

But Marie wasn’t that kind of person. Just like her husband. Even at the cost of her life, such cowardly behavior was something she never even considered.

Was there even a choice? There wasn’t. There was only something that had to be done, even at the risk of life.

Then one of the Rubens Clan shouted toward the Hartmann family.

“Strike that bitch from behind! I’ll pay whatever you want!”

Marie flinched in surprise and looked back at the people she was protecting. Being betrayed by someone you trusted was the most fatal move that not even a renowned swordswoman could counter.

My resolve is firm, but what about you? Distrust and doubt brushed against her heart.

But it was all unfounded. Just as Marie had no choice, betrayal was never an option for them in the first place.

Hartmann, without a moment’s hesitation, stepped forward with his axe and shouted loudly and firmly.

“No need!”

Then he charged toward the one who had been harassing Marie from the right, striking and retreating repeatedly.

However, unfortunately, while the enemies had been preoccupied fighting a Sword Master, they were not people who would fall to a mere woodcutter's axe swings.

They didn’t just dodge lightly; they counterattacked lightly. The axe sliced through the air, and the enemy’s blade cut deeply into Hartmann’s side.

“Father!”

“Dear!”

His wife and children shouted in unison. But the true shock was yet to come.

Despite the deep wound in his side, Hartmann clenched his teeth and endured, then used his solid strength to grab the enemy, pull him close, and headbutted him, again and again.

Thud! Crack! Whack! Crunch!

The enemy's face was completely crushed, and he died. Blood poured from Hartmann’s forehead, covering his face. In that state, he looked back at his family and shouted.

“Don’t come!”

Where does human strength come from? It was clear that it was not simply from physical power or mana.

It seemed that radiant courage and unwavering will were what truly showed how strong a person could be. Even if the result was minor, even if survival wasn’t guaranteed.

They say the strong survive, but it’s the survivors who are strong? Nonsense. I don’t want to live like that. Hartmann was that kind of man, that kind of father, that kind of husband.

No matter how the world lashed at him, he stood firm with his broad shoulders and chest.

In the meantime, angered by the loss of one of their valuable clan swordsmen, the enemy swarmed Hartmann. Marie fought desperately, but it wasn’t enough. At this point, she couldn’t tell Hartmann to fall back.

Even as wounds slashed across his body in an instant, Hartmann suddenly grabbed one enemy and, with iron-like resolve, pushed forward and threw himself into a sharp, jagged rock formation.

Regret over killing a priest, sorrow for his family, and hope for the future even in his absence filled Hartmann’s heart in that final moment.

“Uraaaaah!”

Everyone momentarily froze in shock and watched the scene.

Hartmann fell with one enemy into the treacherous terrain and perished in a blaze of glory. Without even a flicker of hesitation.

By this point, even the enemies began to think, what is this? Except for the Sword Master, the rest seemed to be just ordinary people, yet their fighting spirit left them daunted.

But those who had just lost a loved one could only stand in blank despair. More than grief or anger, their minds were numb. Reality felt like a lie.

The thick, acrid smoke became even denser. As if to cover something.

For a brief moment, silence fell. Then, one enemy who had come to his senses shouted.

“Take them hostage!”

Marie shouted in alarm.

“Get close to the wall!”

Her purple-hued sword flashed through the smoke. But she couldn’t fend off all the enemies leaping about as lightly as feathers.

With the situation turning dire, Bremen, Roy, and Beka stepped forward. Was this the final moment Ricardt had spoken of?

The fight looked like a tiger trying to protect chicks, while hawks and falcons flew in from all directions to snatch them away.

Roy clenched his teeth, suppressing the grief that surged up belatedly, and focused his mind as he faced the enemy. But the opponent treated him like a toy.

Roy wasn’t entirely untrained, but he wasn’t on the level to face swordsmen from a clan.

In the end, he could only cross blades a few times before the enemy twisted around as if ensnaring him and knocked Roy’s sword far away. Then, in an instant, the enemy reached out to grab him.

Roy ducked low, nearly to the ground, and barely dodged. At that moment, his hand touched something on the floor. It was the axe his father had used.

It was a heavy object for a boy to lift. However, if swung skillfully, it didn’t require much strength and was far more powerful than a sword. The only difficulty was hitting the exact point of impact.

Roy had played with it before when his parents weren’t watching. That was the extent of his experience with an axe. But now, in this moment, he swung the axe with all his might, maximizing centrifugal force.

It was a mix of a childhood memory and all the training he had undergone until now, blending together in a flash.

Thwack!

Whether it was a calculated strike or just luck, his opponent’s knee was severed and flew off.

The enemy was shocked by the unbelievable reality, and his body tilted as the lower half of one leg disappeared.

But Roy, as if part of the same movement, brought the axe over his shoulder and brought it down with full force.

Whoosh! Crack!

Even before the enemy hit the ground, his face was split by the axe blade and he died instantly.

With this, the death count among the Rubens Clan swordsmen reached five. Marie had killed two, Hartmann two, and Roy one.

Five high-level swordsmen was by no means a minor loss. The force that had been pressing down on Marie suddenly loosened, as if a threshold had been crossed.

And just then, a red cloak fluttered through the smoke.

Ricardt appeared out of nowhere, swung his sword, and before anyone could react, one more enemy was killed and tumbled down the rocky mountain.

With that, the offensive finally broke, and Marie surged forward to cut down the remaining enemies.

As the tide of battle reversed in an instant, the enemies, in confusion, stumbled and rolled down the mountain from all directions. Only one or two barely managed to flee in a hurry.

“Marie, Roy.”

Ricardt, who had slain more enemies than anyone else, quickly checked on his companions. Marie was drenched in sweat and her hair was disheveled, but she was otherwise fine. Roy, on the other hand, looked dazed.

“M-My father...”

Roy barely managed to speak, and Ricardt spotted Hartmann’s body down below near the hideout, where he had perished along with an enemy. Oh no.

“Let’s go help Bori first.”

Ricardt spoke, trying to regain composure. But fortunately, that side seemed to be resolved as well, Bori appeared, catching his breath as he climbed up.

Looking around, even the mercenaries had withdrawn and were no longer in sight. Apparently, reinforcements hadn’t arrived as expected, and upon realizing that most of them had been slain by Ricardt, they had simply retreated.

Even so, there was no joy of victory. The late afternoon sun was still bright, but it looked hazy because of the smoke. The still air only made things more stifling.

Ricardt slowly descended through a non-existent path to recover the body.

He helped the others climb down and supported them, and they all gathered around Hartmann’s body. The detestable enemy corpse was flung away without a second thought.

Since it was a fall-related death, the condition of the body was rather gruesome. Crushed and broken.

They had lived with an underlying fear of death, thinking they had come to accept it in their own way. But when the moment actually came, it was hard to believe.

“Sob... sob...”

The first to start crying was his wife, Elia. She collapsed over her husband’s body, sobbing, and their daughter cried as well.

But Roy just stood there, silently watching the scene.

“Roy.”

Ricardt gently placed his arm around his disciple’s shoulders. Roy buried his face into Ricardt’s chest and then spoke unexpectedly.

“You said I should handle negative emotions well, right? What should I do? You said it depends on my mindset, but do I really have a choice? Do I? Is there such a thing?”

Ricardt’s heart ached. After a moment of deep thought, he asked his student in his arms,

“Are you angry?”

“At everything. Including myself.”

Because he was a son, because he loved his father, guilt surged within Roy. If only he had trained harder, if only he had talent, if only he had sold out his friend at the Viola Clan, everything tormented Roy. Whether those thoughts were right or wrong.

“Think about your father. The good memories, I mean. You can take your time accepting it. There’s no rush. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hold on to your sorrow and anger. Keep them close. But...”

Ricardt trailed off. He could feel his front growing damp.

“Leave becoming a demon to me. I promise you, those bastards will pay the price in blood. You just need to keep respecting and loving your father.”

Ricardt wanted to protect the noble character that had just begun to sprout. Because it hadn’t yet grown into a great tree, it could still be easily bent or broken by the storms.

Just a very short moment is enough. A very short moment. That’s all it takes to kill a person, or to let go of yourself.

That’s why Ricardt volunteered to become the demon, to hold up the crumbling Roy.

The demon among demons. It was not at all pleasant to bring it out when needed, but he believed that someone with experience had to carry that burden.

It was time to show those pigs, who did no more than devour hearts, what a real demon was.

But for now, it was a time for mourning. The peak covered in pale smoke looked as if it were dressed in a white mourning robe.