The Warrior’s Ballad

Boribori, as he placed three violet flowers into a wooden cup filled with water, smiled with satisfaction and said,

“This way, they’ll stay fresh for about two days.”

“And after two days?”

“Um, they’ll probably wither.”

At the word “wither,” Volka’s expression instantly hardened. Then, without any warning, he grabbed the cup and flung the water and flowers out the window.

“Ah! Aah!”

Boribori, startled, didn’t know what to do and was flustered.

“Stop doing these girly nonsense!”

Volka yelled, clearly enraged, though it seemed like something that shouldn’t have warranted such anger. Ricardt sighed inwardly as he placed his bag on the table next to the bed. These two don’t seem to get along, he thought.

Boribori’s face crumpled, and he started to tear up. His eyes already looked sad, but when he began to tear up, he looked truly pitiful.

However, after swallowing his tears several times and moving his lips as if to chew on words, he stammered,

“But… but there are plenty out in the fields. They’ll bloom again when the swallows return next year. And the year after that.”

It was a timid act of defiance.

Volka, his eyes widening at the defiance, seemed to realize he might have overreacted and just turned his head sharply.

“Let’s go quickly. The sun’s setting.”

Boribori, rolling his fearful eyes and observing Volka’s nonchalant tone without any anger, sighed in relief inwardly.

Ricardt, shaking his head, grabbed his money pouch, cloak, and dagger, and headed outside.

Volka had a sword strapped to his waist, while Boribori wore only the old clothes of a deceased Academy student, with nothing else.

As they passed through the hall, Dunkel, the bartender, took a sip of his drink and raised his hand slightly, as if to wish them farewell.

It was still broad daylight outside. They had arrived a little earlier than expected, not taking the full six hours, so there was still some time left before sunset.

Ricardt spoke,

“If we find a fabric store on the way, let’s stop by. I need to buy some clothes. And some shoes too.”

“Then let’s move quickly. I have a lot to do.”

“Okay.”

Volka led his two friends first to an apiary a little distance away from the city.

As they neared, bees began buzzing around, making it quite annoying.

Volka grumbled about how much he hated coming here, while Ricardt dodged around, waving his hands to ward off the bees. Surprisingly, Boribori walked around unaffected.

He even let a bee land on his fingertip and smiled brightly as if he found it amusing.

As they climbed a hillside overgrown with bushes, they found a clearing with several beehives. Nearby, there were Academy students dressed in thick clothing covering their entire bodies.

They had half-removed their protective outer garments, either because they were now used to it or because they were hot, despite the bees flying around.

“Volka.”

When they spotted Volka, they greeted him with familiarity. Volka kept swatting at the bees as he replied,

“Nothing unusual, right?”

“Yeah. They gave it on time this time, no delays. Thanks to you, of course.”

As they spoke, the students glanced at Ricardt and Boribori. The students seemed a bit awkward, perhaps because they had witnessed Ricardt’s skills firsthand.

“Hello.”

So Ricardt greeted them first.

“Oh? Uh, hi…”

“Seriously, some bastards only listen when you talk tough. They kept bullshitting about knowing someone at headquarters, but it was all lies. Even if anyone had connections, it would be us, not them… Ow! Damn it!”

Volka, spewing harsh words about someone who wasn’t present, finally got stung by a bee. But Ricardt, unfazed, asked the student working at the apiary,

“Is the work manageable?”

“Oh? Uh, yeah. It’s manageable. Now that it’s spring, the bees are starting to produce honey in earnest, so we have to watch them closely. Like, if hornets come or if there’s a swarm, things like that. There’s not much else to do.”

“Hey, hurry up and give me the money. It hurts like hell.”

Volka seemed to be exaggerating a bit about getting stung by the bee. After all, he had faced Ricardt’s punches head-on without flinching.

“Stop with the nonsense and just give me the money already,” Volka urged.

“Yeah, hold on a second.”

The students at the apiary, who seemed to have already collected the money, handed Volka three silver coins. It appeared that each person contributed one coin. This was considered a job referral fee and also a sort of protection fee.

While the exact details were unclear, there had apparently been some recent issues related to delayed wages.

In an era where honey and beeswax were valuable, beekeeping was typically a business monopolized by the lord, but the problem lay with the middle managers.

When issues arose because these guys were skimming off the top, there was no choice but to resort to force. That’s where Volka came in.

However, getting the full wage was practically impossible. Even if they strongly pressured the middle manager, they couldn’t really resort to physical violence; the best they could do was negotiate for a bit. Whether they’d take half or 10%. That was the reality.

The reason for this situation was that the middle managers were usually either retainers or servants of the lord, who had to work for the lord without any pay.

Even if the lord was somewhat considerate and gave wages taking into account the skimming, there were no specific rules about how much should be shared with the actual workers.

The worst case was when there were many middle managers. If the lord assigned work to a retainer, and the retainer assigned it to another retainer or servant, almost nothing would be left for the person actually doing the work.

Fortunately, Beringen didn’t have such issues often, so the situation there was relatively better.

“Hey! I’m leaving! Let me know if anything happens!”

Volka, as soon as he received the money, turned around and dashed down the hill as if escaping. Even while running, he kept flailing his arms.

Ricardt and Boribori hurriedly followed after him, waving back as they went.

“It was nice meeting you. See you next time!”

The students who had been chatting and the two guarding the beehives awkwardly waved back.

Volka, after running until he was out of the bees’ territory, panted heavily and said,

“Ha, ha, it’s best to deal with the annoying stuff early on.”

“Where to next?”

“The blacksmith’s. It’s close to the northern district, so be careful. Not that you need to be too scared. The Nords are damn good with iron. Next time you get some money, Ricky, you should buy a sword there.”

Volka spoke while patting the sword at his waist. It didn’t have any special decorations, but it seemed well-made and well-finished. The real quality, however, could only be known by drawing it.

Following Volka, Ricardt and Boribori headed toward the riverbank. It was a windy place, and there was a blacksmith’s shop where a waterwheel turned vigorously.

Bang! Ta-dang! Bang! Ta-dang……!

The sound of metal being struck in a steady rhythm could be heard. A familiar scent drifted through the air, carried by the wind—the smell of fire and iron.

However, instead of the scent of blood and death, it was mixed with sweat and creation.

Unlike at the apiary, Volka didn’t enter the blacksmith’s shop confidently; instead, he lingered around the perimeter. Soon, a person who had been working on moving and pouring molten metal noticed him and approached.

It was a student named Molty, the oldest-looking student at the Academy. He was much taller than Volka, and his build was comparable to that of a Nord. In fact, he might have Nordian blood.

Judging by his appearance alone, it was hard to believe he was still a teenager. His forehead was already receding, making him look like he was in his 40s.

His face was flushed from working, and it was covered in black soot. He wiped the sweat off his face with a dirty cloth.

Without saying a word, he approached Volka and handed him the money. For some reason, it wasn’t just one silver coin, but three copper coins.

“Sorry. I’m not doing too well either.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be on my way. Take care.”

“Yeah.”

As they were about to leave after exchanging money, Ricardt asked a question. Boribori, hiding behind Ricardt, peeked out with just his eyes showing.

“Is the work manageable?”

Molty looked down at Ricardt with a steady gaze and replied in his deep voice,

“You earn as much as you sweat. It’s honest work. I’m satisfied with that.”

“But I’m curious, how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Liar.”

Molty just chuckled softly and turned back to continue his work.

“Hey, Ricky. Stop saying unnecessary things and let’s go quickly.”

Despite saying there was no need to be afraid, Volka seemed eager to leave, likely because the Nords made him uneasy.

The Nords had thick, bushy beards, which seemed to bristle due to the heat. They didn’t seem to pay any attention to Volka’s group.

Water dripped from the tip of a sword that had just been quenched. It was a masterpiece crafted purely through strength and sweat, forged in the fire.

“Let’s go, Ricky. I’m scared too,” said Boribori, already pulling on Ricardt’s cloak as he spoke. Volka had already started to move away.

Ricardt wanted to observe a bit more but reluctantly followed after them.

Volka led Ricardt and Boribori to various places around the area: a tannery, a slaughterhouse, and places where people simply carried loads, and so on. There was even a brothel among the locations.

At each of these places, he collected referral fees or protection money. However, the more Volka counted the money, the darker his expression became.

By now, the sun was setting and the sky was filled with the evening glow. Workers were starting to return from their workplaces to their resting places.

Fortunately, they managed to stop by a fabric shop before it closed. Ricardt bought clothes and shoes there, and then gifted them to Boribori.

Boribori, who thought Ricardt was buying the clothes for himself, was shocked when he gave them to him. His eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn’t even manage to say thank you, just stammering in disbelief.

Ricardt, as if understanding his feelings, said,

“It’s okay. We agreed not to say thank you among ourselves, remember?”

“Th-then, what should I do? Should I say sorry?”

“Haha, no, that wouldn’t be right either, would it? Just use them well. That’ll make me feel good.”

“Ricky…”

Boribori’s eyes welled up with tears. Such kindness overwhelmed him, and he couldn’t hold back his emotions.

“Waaaah!”

“Hey! Are you crazy?!”

Ricardt was startled and flustered when Boribori suddenly burst into tears in the middle of the street. But no matter how he tried to calm him down, he only cried harder, as if releasing all his pent-up emotions.

“Uwaaah!”

“This won’t do. Let’s get back to the inn quickly.”

Ricardt had no choice but to drag Boribori along as they headed back to the Guild headquarters. Throughout the journey, Boribori clutched the new clothes and shoes to his chest like the most precious treasure. They were getting all wrinkled.

Fortunately, by the time they reached the Guild headquarters, Boribori’s crying had subsided.

Then, Volka, who had been silent and had a tense expression the whole time, hesitantly spoke to Ricardt.

“Uh, hey, Ricky.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“I noticed at the fabric shop earlier… It seemed like you had quite a bit of money…”

“Well, I managed to earn a little bit on the way to the Academy, got lucky.”

“So, I was wondering… Could you lend me a little?”

“How much?”

“Five… silver coins…”

Five silver coins was by no means a small amount. Of course, whether money was considered a lot or a little could be relative, but on average, it was substantial. For ordinary people, five silver coins was a considerable sum, especially for young boys.

“Can you tell me what it’s for?”

Volka, too embarrassed to meet Ricardt’s eyes directly, scratched his nose and mumbled in a voice barely louder than a whisper,

“I’m short on tribute money…”

Tribute money? What does he mean by that?

“Do you need it right now?”

“Yeah. Today’s the due date. Tomorrow, I have other things to take care of.”

Ricardt took out his money pouch and retrieved five silver coins. As he handed them over, he said,

“Can I come with you?”

“Huh? Uh…”

“Do we need to go now?”

“Uh… yeah…”

“Let’s go.”

Without knowing the exact destination, Ricardt started walking first. Boribori blinked his teary eyes, wiped away his tears, and simply followed.

The sunset deepened, and as the sun disappeared, dusk began to settle.

Around that time, Ricardt’s group reached a quiet field somewhere, with farmhouses scattered sparsely.

A campfire was burning, and around it, groups of people were chatting and joking with each other.

There were three groups in total, about twenty people combined, and they were all Academy students. The ratio of males to females was similar, and there were some male and female students sitting close together, perhaps couples.

The group known as the “Ice Gang,” ranked from 1st to 5th, stood slightly apart, saying nothing, just silently standing together. It was impossible to tell what they were thinking.

The other students were either laughing or having serious conversations.

As Volka walked towards them, the sound of their conversations abruptly ceased. Volka approached each group and handed over the money. There was no significant conversation during the exchange.

After handing over all the money, Volka turned around and walked back. Ricardt and Boribori, who had been watching from a distance, followed him.

“Why do you have to give them money?” Ricardt asked.

“Just because. Isn’t that how the world works? It’s the same here.”

Just as farmers paid taxes to the lord from their harvests, the Academy had a structure where lower-ranked students pooled their money and paid it to higher-ranked students.

Today, Volka had managed to defeat the student ranked 15th in class, reducing the number of students he had to pay tribute to, but that didn’t mean he had to pay any less money.

“In the past, they just beat us and took it. It only got worse when they started beating us for money even if we couldn’t find work in the city. A lot of students ended up jumping off cliffs because of it. But, I thought at least we should have jobs, and if everyone pooled their money, it might be a bit better…”

Volka wasn’t helping other students find jobs or protecting them purely for his own benefit.

In fact, by doing this, he ended up neglecting himself and even had to use his own money to pay the tribute.

“Sorry. I’ll definitely pay you back.”

Volka said, bowing his head in embarrassment. Given his independent nature, it was clear he was deeply ashamed of having to ask Ricardt for money.

But suddenly, Ricardt stopped dead in his tracks. Then, he turned around and briskly walked back towards the campfire. Volka and Boribori, confused, hurried after him.

When they arrived back at the campfire, the three groups of students were still there. They all stared at Ricardt, who had appeared so suddenly.

Ricardt stood there and spoke,

“Hey. All of you. Give the money back.”

Silence fell over the area, and for a while, the only sound was the crackling of the campfire. Sparks flew up from the flames, disappearing into the night sky.

Then, somewhere, there was the sound of someone scoffing in disbelief.

“Is it you? The newbie who beat up Volka?”

“I said, give the money back.”

“You know, we don’t do childish things like pankration here.”

One student said this as he slowly drew his sword from his waist. Ricardt, however, stared at him, unfazed, with an intense gaze.

The flickering flames reflected in the boy’s hazel eyes. But they weren’t as hot as the quiet anger burning beyond them.

Ricardt then spoke softly, but his words were clearly heard.

“You will die…”