Chapter 65

Rickart, Boribori, and Marie crossed fields and valleys and passed through the Kaitz region. It had been full of spring warmth when they first set out, but the weather had already grown hot and humid.

Temperatures in the north remained fairly moderate throughout the year, but that did not mean its summers were not hot or its winters were not cold.

The scent of grass carried on the wind was rich and strong. Boribori sat amid a field of flowers, his eyes closed and his face tilted upward as he sniffed the air.

He was identifying each individual plant hidden within the mingled fragrances.

“Hmm... This one’s calendula, this one is... cornflower, this one smells like Ricky, and this... is it gentian?”

While Boribori occupied himself with that, a man and a woman were facing off in another flower field. They were Rickart and Marie.

They appeared to be sparring, but without practice swords, they had drawn real blades, making the scene look rather dangerous.

Marie stood with her knees bent, her sword Ricky hanging loosely at her side. Rickart had shifted his center of gravity slightly backward, adopting a stance that suggested he intended to slash diagonally upward from the lower left.

Even when a cool breeze passed between them, carrying the fragrance of flowers, it merely stirred their hair. Neither the wind nor the scent could shake the gazes they had fixed on one another.

When people concentrated deeply enough, they tended to lose all sense of time. It was unclear how long the standoff had lasted, but Marie finally took a bold step forward. Then she stopped precisely at the very edge of Rickart’s range.

Had she moved even slightly farther, Rickart would have counterattacked. But since she had not yet entered his range, he did not react. Rickart’s ability to judge the distance perfectly and remain still was impressive in its own right.

Like someone pausing with their face just above the surface of the water before slowly sinking beneath it while holding their breath, Marie began to enter Rickart’s range very gradually, inch by inch. As she did, she fully embraced the prickling sensation running through her entire body.

Her heart pounded, but her mind remained steady. Her discipline was remarkable as well.

It was a highly unusual approach compared with using feints from various directions or charging in as quickly as possible to attack.

Although she would technically be the one attacking, her true aim was to lure out her opponent’s strike and counter it.

With Marie taking this approach, the spar began to feel like a contest in which each was telling the other, You show your hand first.

The distance between them steadily narrowed. In a genuine fight to the death, what they were doing would have been extraordinarily dangerous.

That was why controlling the mind was crucial from this point onward. She could not grow impatient, but neither could she become complacent. Her mind had to remain like the mirror-like surface of a lake, responding precisely to even the slightest disturbance.

Rickart and Marie seemed to be waiting for the other to attack, and the distance between them had narrowed to only three steps.

I have to swing now. It’ll be too late to worry about counterattacks.

Marie’s own anxiety sent ripples through her mirror-still mind. The hesitation was minute, but it was there.

At that moment, Rickart moved.

He abruptly stepped to the right. Marie was no ordinary swordswoman either, and she swung her sword like lightning in a direction that would both cut off Rickart’s attack path and allow her to strike at the same time.

Whoosh!

With a sharp swish, several blades of grass were sliced away. Rickart twisted his upper body farther to the right, narrowly evading the strike, then took another long step forward. He seized Marie by the wrist of the hand gripping her sword.

Marie drew upon her mana and tried to resist, but Rickart knew how to turn an opponent’s strength against them. In truth, he did not even need to do that. He simply hooked her leg and swept her off her feet.

As her supporting leg was swept away, Marie’s legs flew upward and her upper body bent backward. Rickart caught her by the back.

The result looked amusingly like a dance pose, their faces suddenly very close together.

At that moment, Marie’s heart dropped for an entirely different reason, and all desire to continue fighting vanished.

“You’re too close.”

Rickart smiled.

“A-Aren’t you the one who got close?”

“Hmm? Oh, that’s not what I meant.”

Rickart helped her upright again and sheathed his sword. Meanwhile, Marie needlessly fussed with her clothes and appearance.

“You’ve improved a lot. But in the end, it comes down to your state of mind. You did well, but your mind wavered at the very end.”

Rickart had accurately perceived the impatience and anxiety that unsettled Marie. In truth, he could have subdued her much earlier if he had wanted to. This had been more of a test.

“If someone could control their mind to that extent, they might not be human.”

“Maybe so.”

“By the way, am I really not going to beat you before you graduate?”

Rickart’s graduation was now truly close. It could be as soon as two or three months away, and no later than five.

“Who knows? It might depend on what you do, Marie.”

“But if I really did beat you, how would you feel?”

“I don’t think I’d feel anything in particular.”

“Why? Wouldn’t you feel frustrated or competitive?”

“A real fight is about life and death. There’s no room for competitiveness. Sparring merely imitates a real fight, so honestly, I don’t think it helps all that much. A person only truly reflects on who they are when they feel that they might die.”

Rickart spoke as he gazed across the field. Green plains stretched all the way to the horizon, covered in luxuriant blossoms of red, yellow, white, and countless other colors.

The flowers and grasses swayed gently in the wind as butterflies and bees fluttered above them.

The weather was hot and humid, but the breeze kept it from feeling unbearably warm.

“But I...”

Marie seemed to have something she wanted to say, but she only hesitated and ultimately remained silent.

After all, she had been given a mission that was not quite a mission: either defeat Rickart or seduce him into marrying her. She had to accomplish one of the two before she could attain true freedom.

Even to her, defeating Rickart seemed impossible. Winning his heart was the only option that appeared remotely achievable.

But Rickart was someone who did not believe in love. Marie knew that better than anyone.

And when she considered the matter more deeply, she felt ashamed of herself. Whether she defeated Rickart or won his heart, would he not ultimately be nothing more than a means for her to obtain freedom?

Then was she supposed to abandon her desire for freedom?

It was far too great a dilemma for such a young girl.

“Is the spar over?”

Boribori asked from where he sat in the flower field, still sniffing the air. Rickart slung his sword over one shoulder beneath his red cloak and said to Marie,

“Let’s go.”

Marie let out a deep sigh and prepared to leave.

Then Boribori suddenly approached her and began sniffing.

“Why?”

“Hmm. You smell like gentian flowers, Marie. How strange. I got the scents mixed up for a moment.”

Rickart and Marie both gave incredulous chuckles.

Beringen was just ahead. Sparring was enjoyable, as was admiring the fields at the beginning of summer, but nothing was better than resting at home.

Beringen was divided into northern, southern, eastern, and western districts. The northern district was home to Nord settlers, while the western district was inhabited by locals whose families had lived there for generations. Many craftsmen and merchants who had graduated from the Academy lived in the east, while the south was mainly occupied by outsiders staying only briefly.

Enough time had passed that one might have expected them to mingle, yet they had not. Living separately while respecting one another was also a way of coexistence, but in any case, that was how things stood.

They were not enemies, but anyone who went into another district and spoke or behaved carelessly could still land themselves in serious trouble.

Rickart, Boribori, and Marie were passing through the southern district when they spotted a group of people who looked as though they were about to find themselves in exactly that kind of trouble.

“Hey, you little fucker. When you’re drunk, either go to sleep quietly or drop dead. Why the hell are you causing trouble?”

The speaker was a large man wearing filthy, stained clothes with his sleeves rolled up. He appeared to be the owner of a tavern. The problem was that he was holding an enormous kitchen knife.

His opponents looked quite young. There were three of them, including his friends.

One wore a dark blue jacket, while the other two had removed theirs and stood in white shirts.

“When did I cause trouble!? All I did was ask her to come outside and get some fresh air!”

“You think we’re going to piss ourselves just because you’re holding a knife!?”

“Does the serving girl belong to you!? Are you her pimp!? What’s wrong with talking to her!?”

They resembled wild dogs barking at a single large beast. The way the wild dogs yapped noisily was hardly pleasant to watch.

The conflict appeared to have started over a female employee. Wherever one went, money and women had a way of driving men to their deaths.

In any case, the large man possessed a weapon even more powerful than the kitchen knife—one capable of ending the argument instantly.

“She’s my wife, you bastards!”

At those words, the Academy students who had been barking so loudly abruptly clamped their mouths shut.

But after exchanging glances, they began making ridiculous remarks.

“She looked young.”

“Maybe you kidnapped her.”

“You’re obviously threatening her and keeping her here against her will.”

“Right. There’s no other explanation.”

They seemed to be denying his words while searching for another excuse to keep fighting. Meanwhile, residents of the southern district had begun gathering around them. Some were even carrying clubs.

This was precisely what it meant to land oneself in serious trouble. If the locals swarmed them and beat them, they might even die.

Yet whether the students understood their situation or not, they looked ready to charge at the tavern owner again.

That was when Rickart stepped forward.

“Hey. That’s enough.”

Everyone at the scene turned toward Rickart. Several pairs of eyes swept him up and down, only to widen when they noticed the astonishingly beautiful Marie beside him.

Rickart ignored their reactions and offered the students a warning.

“Keep this up, and you really might die. Go back.”

Their response was unexpected.

“And who the hell are you?”

“These days, every random nobody walks around in a red cloak.”

“Can’t you see this jacket? We’re students of the Great Beringen Academy. We have two hundred comrades waiting for us at the Academy.”

The Great Beringen what? Comrades? Rickart had no idea what kind of nonsense they were spouting, and his face twisted as though he had bitten into a bug.

They apparently did not recognize him. He had been away for several months, so they might have been new students admitted during his absence.

But had new students always been this full of themselves?

“Leave while I’m still asking nicely. Look around you.”

Only then did the students follow Rickart’s advice and glance around. They saw people gathering from every alley, all emanating an ominous air.

At last, fear struck them, and they visibly began to panic. Even so, they refused to surrender their pride until the very end.

“H-Hmph! I just remembered something I have to do.”

“R-Right. We have somewhere we need to be.”

“Next time, we’ll bring our comrades with us, so you’d better be ready.”

With that, they hurried away. Rickart could hardly believe people like them existed. He apologized to the tavern owner on their behalf.

“I’m sorry. They don’t seem truly malicious, so I’ll try to straighten them out.”

“Hmph...”

In truth, neither the tavern owner nor any of the local residents were unfamiliar with Rickart. In other words, they were the ones who knew exactly how frightening he could be.

Fortunately, once the students withdrew, the residents who had been gathering also dispersed.

“Is the guild war over?”

the tavern owner asked. They were not particularly close, but they knew each other by sight.

“I heard they’re negotiating an armistice.”

“I heard what happened in Kaitz. Everyone has.”

“All I did was fight like mad. Anyway, what was all that about?”

“While you were gone, it seems that lunatic agitator Kalli became their leader. They don’t threaten merchants and extort money like they used to, but they roam around in packs causing trouble everywhere. They’ve all gotten far too full of themselves.”

Kalli was both a nickname for Karlich and the name people commonly used for him.

The local residents did not know much about the Academy and regarded it as some sort of armed organization, which was why they called him its “leader.”

They were neither mercenaries nor adventurers, just gangs of youngsters who traveled in groups. That was roughly how the locals saw them. As a result, they referred to the highest-ranked student, or whichever student appeared to be in charge, as the “leader.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll look into it.”

“All right. Thanks.”

After apologizing on the students’ behalf and settling the matter, Rickart resumed his journey toward the eastern district, where the guild building was located.

“What in the world is going on?”

Boribori asked incredulously.

Since they had not recognized Rickart, they were clearly new students. Yet Boribori could never have dreamed of behaving like that when he was new. Back then, all he had done was cower in the chicken coop, watching everyone’s mood and occasionally getting beaten.

“Considering all that talk about comrades, they certainly seem united.”

Marie said. She had not attended the Academy for long, but she had a general grasp of its atmosphere.

The students tended to gather in small cliques while retaining strongly individualistic dispositions, so even the word “comrade” sounded unfamiliar.

“Yeah, they’re united, all right...”

Rickart said with a sigh.

Beginning with Rickart himself, the Academy had been changing far too quickly. And change was always accompanied by side effects.

The uniforms Rickart had bought for the students had given them a sense of pride and solidarity. Karlich had encouraged it more enthusiastically than anyone. But when that spirit became excessive, this was what happened.

In less than two years, so much had changed, and it was changing faster still—so fast that even Rickart struggled to keep up.

He could no longer tell what was going on.