The Warrior’s Ballad

As winter passed and spring reached its peak, it meant that the time of being curled up had passed and a good time to work had come. However, a good time to work was also a good time to fight.

It was unclear whether a full-fledged guild war had broken out. There might have been skirmishes happening, or perhaps they were still just watching each other warily. Being isolated from the world, the academy couldn’t access much news about the outside world.

But perhaps because it was so isolated from the world, it could provide a final refuge for the forsaken children.

“Welcome to the academy! Newbie!”

Inside the boys’ dormitory, Karllich shouted loudly. Anyone could hear the excitement in his cry.

He then threw a blanket over the new freshman and, along with the other students, gave him a real hearty beating.

After they had beaten him enough, they removed the blanket and forcefully pulled the freshman to his feet by grabbing his arm. The freshman, with his spirit half-broken and a pained expression on his face from the beating, looked miserable.

“With this, you are now a proud member of Beringen Academy! Come on, everyone, let’s give him a round of applause!”

Clap clap clap clap clap!

Karllich, as if presenting a tournament winner, lifted the freshman’s arm high in the air in front of all the students. Then, with a look that seemed to say, I did good, right?, he glanced at Ricardt.

“……”

Ricardt, watching from the top bunk, found himself at a loss for words as he looked at what Karllich was doing.

Because unlike their first encounter, Karllich was now more enthusiastic about academy life than anyone else.

In reality, the situation wasn’t that different; noble children, who were far from succession, weren’t much better off than bastards.

What family in their right mind would send their heir to the academy? Coming to the Adventurer Training Academy was, to put it bluntly, being cast aside, or to put it kindly, being given one last chance to carve out their own path.

In the past, people were reluctant to become adventurers due to the negative perception, but now, that perception had somewhat softened.

This was because even nobles had come to realize, through various experiences, that adventurers were quite useful when it came to handling requests through the guild.

Whether they died in the knight order or as a mercenary, or perished while being an adventurer, it didn’t seem to make much of a difference to them.

And there was also the fact that, depending on their position, they might rise up and even become helpful to their family. Actually, adventurers could often provide more practical help.

In a knight order, the command of the Knight Commander took precedence, and mercenary groups were too expensive; thus, becoming an adventurer was a more versatile option.

“You can stay here. Stop whining. Are these all the clothes you have? Do you have enough to eat? If you’re hungry, just let me know anytime. For now, if you need help with chores, ask that guy over there. And for city jobs, talk to me. Classes require money, you know? I could lend it to you, but to do that, you’d have to find a job in the city first…”

Karllich guided the freshman to an empty spot while explaining all sorts of things.

It wasn’t necessarily a problem, but if there was an issue, it was that Karllich was excessively enthusiastic.

On the first day, rather than coming to his senses after being thoroughly beaten by Ricardt, he seemed to realize, Oh, so there are rules here, and adjusted his behavior accordingly.

He adapted extremely quickly, was sharp, and full of enthusiasm. To the point where it was overwhelming to see him put in so much effort.

And while Karllich was indeed a noble, he wasn’t a traditional noble. What that meant was that he came from a merchant noble background.

A traditional noble was one who, along with a title, owned even a small piece of land and fulfilled the duties of a knight.

A merchant noble, on the other hand, only had their family business without a title. They might have private property, but it was not the same as a title-associated estate.

For that reason, traditional nobles often didn’t even regard merchant nobles as fellow nobles.

For example, if a merchant noble appeared on the battlefield fully armed, there were cases where traditional nobles would refuse to fight, saying they couldn’t stand to fight alongside such people.

However, even traditional nobles could sometimes live in poverty in rural areas, while merchant nobles could be so wealthy that they lived in grand mansions in the city.

In reality, even though the times valued family lineage, bloodline, and honor, no matter how much wealth they possessed, city nobles had no choice but to yield before traditional nobles.

When attending an official event held by a ruler, even the seating arrangements would differ right from the start.

Of course, this led to mutual disdain beneath the surface. Remarks like, “Who does that country bumpkin think he is, relying solely on his bloodline?” or “How can a merchant even call himself a noble?” were common.

“Ricky, Ricky.”

Karllich approached Ricardt with a piece of paper in his hand.

“……What?”

“You said you were going to buy clothes for the everyone, right? I went ahead and took their measurements. I’ve organized everything here.”

When Ricardt looked at the paper, he saw that it was filled with the names of students from the academy, along with details about their heights, arm lengths, leg lengths, waist sizes, and other measurements.

“……”

In an academy that usually operated haphazardly, this kind of, well, organized summary was something he was seeing for the first time.

“I think a deep blue color would be best. Other colors are often extracted from plants, which can be difficult to obtain depending on the season. Lapis lazuli is expensive, but since there’s a mining area nearby, we can get it cheaper than elsewhere. Based on my calculations, the budget fits perfectly. If we’re going to make these clothes, we should make them look stylish to boost the pride of our Beringen Academy, don’t you think? If you let me handle it, I’ll take care of everything. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Karllich, with a gleam in his eyes, looked at Ricardt with an expression full of anticipation. Ricardt, staring into those clear eyes, saw a hint of madness and felt a kind of fear he had never experienced before.

“Uh, um……”

“Great!”

Karllich clenched his fist in triumph.

“But seriously, why are you putting in so much effort? Are you worried I might say something?”

In response to Ricardt’s question, Karllich, still with that gleam in his eyes, gave a wide grin. That smile somehow made him even scarier.

“No one interferes here. There’s no scolding from my father, no disdain from my siblings. For the first time, I feel like I’m becoming a useful person. Honestly, it’s better not to have a status at all. I’m sick and tired of this traditional noble versus merchant noble nonsense, where everyone is just like a sibling. And I found this clause when I was looking up the laws of the Empire: ‘In the name of Emperor Martellus, under the protection of the Empire, the academy shall follow its own laws, rules, and traditions.’ So, doesn’t that mean we can create our own laws, rules, and traditions? Isn’t that exciting?”

This was news to Ricardt. He hadn’t known there was such a clause in the Empire’s laws. In reality, most regions followed their own customary laws, and the statutory law of the Empire was often just a formality.

If the Emperor were to impose Imperial law forcefully, it could provoke backlash from the local nobles, making strict enforcement difficult. Even the Emperor rarely invoked Imperial law casually.

To be honest, the Emperor himself wasn’t that familiar with the laws and would only ask his legal advisor when necessary.

Still, there were a few key provisions that everyone followed: titles and lands were inherited by male heirs first, local lords retained their jurisdictional rights, judicial powers, and military authority, but could not negotiate with foreign nations outside the Empire, and that punishments and judgments should be fair in the sight of the gods.

Ricardt had only learned the basics of reading, writing, and simple arithmetic from his family; he hadn’t been taught any higher knowledge, so all of this was fascinating to him.

Karllich’s eyes sparkled with determination, revealing his own goals. Of course, there was a bit of madness mixed in too.

Watching him, Ricardt couldn’t help but think that nobles who had received proper education were indeed different.

Still, being around Karllich felt burdensome and uncomfortable, so Ricardt quietly slipped away.

He left the room and headed to the second floor, planning to study ancient texts in an empty classroom. But Boribori was already there, reading something.

“Oh? Ricky.”

“What are you reading?”

“Ancient people’s sex life.”

“……Why are you reading that?”

“There aren’t many ancient texts, and there are even fewer manuscripts, so I can’t afford to be picky. Besides, it’s surprisingly interesting.”

Ricardt didn’t have much to say in response, so he simply sat next to Boribori, propping his chin in his hand, and stared out the window. The blue sky and the wide-open fields stretched before him, reflecting in his hazel eyes. A light breeze blew, gently stirring his golden hair.

“Are you bored?”

Boribori asked.

“Hm? No.”

“You seem bored. Want to make a bet with me?”

“What kind of bet?”

“Since I can’t beat you, Ricky, so how about each of us trains someone and then we let them compete against each other? The one whose student wins, wins the bet.”

“No way. None of the kids here even understand what I’m saying.”

Ricardt often taught the students, but more often than not, they couldn’t grasp what he was explaining, leaving him frustrated on his own.

So, except for sparring with the friends who were often called the ‘Nine’ before graduating, he rarely managed to teach anyone effectively.

“Then how about writing a book? Maybe someday, someone who understands will come along.”

“A book?”

“Yeah. But to make it more interesting, why don’t you write it in ancient script? It’ll be like studying while you write.”

Ricardt’s ears perked up at the idea. It didn’t seem like a bad way to pass the time.

Lately, Ricardt had been feeling like the academy was slowly slipping out of his grasp. He hadn’t actively managed it or anything, but the students were making efforts on their own and growing by themselves.

It was satisfying and heartwarming to watch them develop, but he felt like there was no longer any place for him to step in.

What Ricardt had done at the academy was simply to set the stage. He made sure no one was bullied or exploited, ensured that no one starved, and maintained order and discipline.

So, when the academy started to function well on its own, there was little left for him to do. In the meantime, since he didn’t need to learn swordsmanship or combat techniques himself, he was just idling away his time.

“I guess it’s okay?”

“Hehe, right?”

Ricardt immediately spread out some paper and brought ink and a pen. But right from the start, he was stuck on one thing.

“What should I title it?”

“Ricky’s Sword Technique! Usually, you name it after yourself, right?”

“But that sounds so lame.”

“What? You called mine Boribori Sword Technique!”

“Well, yeah, but putting my name in it seems too cliché. I’ll just call it ‘The Basics of Swordsmanship’.”

“Eh? That’s so boring.”

“It’s better this way. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Those who can understand will understand.”

“Ricky, you’re quite shy, aren’t you?”

Ricardt didn’t deny it and just smiled. Then, he wrote the title in large letters: The Basics of Swordsmanship.

His handwriting, imbued with his mother’s love, was as elegant and flowing as a willow tree. In contrast, Boribori’s writing was bold and strong.

Ricardt organized his thoughts and began writing a rough draft. Whenever he encountered something he didn’t know about ancient script, he would ask Boribori or refer to phrases from the book he was reading.

However, since that book was about the ancient people’s sex life, he sometimes ended up seeing things he wished he hadn’t, causing him to close his eyes tightly in embarrassment.

Reflecting on his swordsmanship was fun in its own way, but remembering the frustration of trying to teach the kids left him feeling lost on what to write.

Should he simplify the content? Is it really that difficult? Why is it difficult? What does “difficult” even mean? Hmm, he didn’t know.

Since his motivation for writing was just to reach whoever could understand, Ricardt didn’t overthink it and continued to jot down his thoughts.

Watching him from the side, Boribori commented.

“It looks more like you’re writing an essay than explaining something.”

“Is that so? But language is never perfect anyway. It can’t be helped. I’m just expressing things as they are. That’s the most accurate way.”

“Well, still, wouldn’t it be better to try explaining as clearly as possible?”

“Then why don’t you write your own?”

“Alright, I will. I’ll call mine Bori’s Swordsmanship. Hehehe.”

Boribori put down the book he’d been reading and grabbed a blank sheet of paper, starting to write his own version. His handwriting was neat and powerful.

The writings of the two boys were still rough and unpolished, but the differences between them were already starkly evident.

Ricardt seemed to be writing an epic poem without any clear structure, while Boribori was carefully building his work step by step, organizing it by chapters.

After a while, they took a look at each other’s writings, and their thoughts diverged.

“Hey, why are you wasting paper on this nonsense? This stuff is just too obvious.”

Ricardt said, frowning as he looked at Boribori’s work, clearly displeased.

Paper wasn’t cheap by any means. Depending on its quality, paper used for books was one of the most expensive items.

“The reader might be a beginner. They need to start with the basics and understand gradually, moving on to more advanced concepts. If you just say things like ‘Hesitating will make you too slow’, ‘Focus on precision rather than speed’, or ‘A powerful strike is meaningless if you don’t understand the force behind it’, who’s going to understand that?”

As Ricardt thought about it, he realized that Boribori had a point.

However, the idea of writing out every detailed explanation made him feel reluctant, as it seemed like it would make the content excessively lengthy. Plus, if he went on and on with too many words, wouldn’t it stray away from the essence of what he was trying to convey? Ricardt couldn’t help but feel a bit defiant.

“……That’s why I’m writing it so that only those who get it will understand.”

“Hmm… How about this, then? I’ll create a separate guidebook with explanations, and you can review it and give your feedback. How does that sound?”

“Having a guidebook makes it less cool.”

“No, it’s fine. It’ll still be cool. You really are shy, aren’t you?”

Ricardt couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. Then he reached out and tousled Boribori’s sandy-brown bowl-cut hair playfully. Boribori responded with a cheerful laugh, “Hehehe.”

He really seemed to have grown a lot. In a good way. It made Ricardt feel proud.

Boribori was not only Ricardt’s most cherished friend but also his student, and now, in some ways, even his teacher.

When you teach and guide someone, and watch their growth, perhaps the truth is that the teacher is also being guided and growing as well without realizing it.

Spring had reached its peak. It was the perfect season for working, for fighting, and also for strengthening friendships too.

*****