The Warrior’s Ballad

Chapter 15

Translator: Willia 

The two boys didn’t seem to be exercising or training for anything.

One was simply hanging from a pull-up bar or climbing onto the parallel bars, holding on for a bit, then lifting his legs and sitting down.

The other was holding onto the legs of the parallel bars, swaying his body, and looking up at the boy sitting above, talking about something.

Judging by the smiles on the boys’ faces, it seemed like they were having the kind of childish conversations typical for their age.

10 years old, or maybe 12. Useless and incomprehensible to adults, but the most fun, important, and serious conversations in the world for children.

Have you ever seen a turtle? They say it’s really fast in the water. So, if a rabbit runs on land and a turtle swims in the water, which one would be faster? Have you ever seen the sea? They say it’s all water to the end of the world. But the strange thing is, it tastes salty, like it’s full of salt. A lot of salt must have gone in, right?

Though their conversation couldn’t be heard from a distance, it seemed like they might be talking about such things.

The wind occasionally blew towards Ricardt, who was sitting on the parallel bars, causing his golden hair to shimmer in the sunlight.

It had been a week since Ricardt had moved into the Beringen Academy dormitory, and in that time, he seemed to have gotten a bit closer to Boribori, who laughed and shook his head, engaging comfortably in conversation.

Someone was watching the two boys from a distance. It was Volka.

Volka still couldn’t understand how Ricardt, who looked like just a kid no matter how he looked at him, had defeated him, as if by some magic.

For three days, he couldn’t shake off the shock and shame, and on the fourth day, he started to think carefully. Why did he lose?

Setting aside his frustration and resentment, he was purely curious. Why did he lose? No matter how he looked, Ricardt was just a kid.

Even when he replayed the situation in his mind, he couldn’t figure it out. He only remembered a flash before passing out.

Volka, after agonizing alone, seemingly unable to bear it any longer, strode towards Ricardt.

Boribori, seeing Volka approach, was startled and couldn’t fully hide behind the parallel bars’ legs, peeking out with a frightened frog-like expression.

Ricardt, who was laughing comfortably and talking with Boribori, changed to an indifferent expression when he saw Volka.

“Hey.”

Volka called first.

“What.”

“Fight me.”

“I told you, I lost.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Then what do you want? You said it doesn’t end unless someone dies or surrenders. But you won’t surrender.”

“Ha… Fine. I lost. Happy? So let’s fight.”

“Sigh…”

Ricardt sighed and then jumped down from the parallel bars.

“Boribori, bring me the bandages.”

“Y-yeah.”

Boribori quickly ran to the dormitory and brought back bandages. Volka, who had lost to Ricardt and been dumped by his girlfriend, wrapped the bandages on his hands himself.

As it looked like they were going to fight, the eyes of the kids in the training ground turned towards them. It seemed like some kind of revenge match, but judging by the atmosphere, neither Ricardt nor Volka seemed particularly emotional.

So, unlike the first day, the kids didn’t rush over to hype up the atmosphere. They just watched from afar.

This time, they didn’t bother taking off their shoes and enter the sandpit. They just faced each other at the edge of the training ground.

Unlike the first day, Volka was on high alert. He seemed ready to face Ricardt properly without letting his guard down.

He kept his guard up, lowering his stance, chin tucked, and stared intently at Ricardt. Meanwhile, Ricardt was just standing naturally, slightly sideways.

Volka moved his shoulders rhythmically, circling around Ricardt slightly, then suddenly stepped forward, throwing a punch.

No, he couldn’t throw it this time either. Because before that, Ricardt’s fist had already struck his solar plexus.

Thud!

“Gah!”

For a moment, Volka’s breath was knocked out and he felt dizzy. However, since Ricardt hadn’t hit his chin like the first day, he didn’t pass out in one blow. Ricardt had intentionally held back.

As Volka struggled to regain his posture and took a forced breath, trying to collect his thoughts, Ricardt continued to stand there, just watching. Then he spoke.

“Why don’t you try using your back foot? It’s too obvious.”

“Wh-what?”

 

“Look. You do it like this.”

Ricardt imitated Volka’s movement, throwing a punch into the air. It wasn’t just an imitation; it was a perfect replication.

“You step forward with your front foot while throwing a punch. It’s good for striking quickly in an instant, but it’s too predictable. The moment you step with your front foot, I just need to extend my hand and you’re running into it. So I can take you down without much effort.”

Volka listened to Ricardt’s words as if in a trance, feeling both bewildered and dumbfounded.

“But look. Using your back foot means this. First, you pull back your rear foot, then step forward with your front foot. This allows you to close a large distance in one move, making it difficult for the opponent to react. It’s about deceiving the sense of distance.”

Using the back foot seemed like a somewhat strange posture, but when Ricardt demonstrated it naturally in a continuous motion, it looked really cool.

“So you need to start with the distance game. Not just thinking about throwing punches. People who know how to fight all have this as a basic instinct. The distance where you’re confident, the distance where you’re not, movements to close the distance, movements to widen it, whether to dive in and fight or fight while maintaining distance. But you don’t know any of this. It’s so hard for me to get hit even if I wanted to.”

Volka stood there with a bewildered expression. So did Boribori nearby and the other kids watching.

“Alright, try again. For now, don’t think about throwing punches, come in with the mindset of closing the distance.”

Volka hadn’t expected to receive instruction, so he remained dazed. Even so, he assumed his stance again, forcing himself to focus.

Then, as Ricardt had said, rather than immediately swinging his fists, he focused on his footwork.

He feinted a few times against the stationary Ricardt, but Ricardt just stared into his eyes, not falling for any of them.

Then Volka used his back foot as Ricardt had taught him, quickly closing the distance. Just as he thought this was his moment, his left leg twisted to the side.

Thud!

“Argh!”

Volka shut his eyes tight. How could such a small body generate such destructive power? The kick felt like being hit with a club.

As he hurriedly tried to widen the distance again, his legs wouldn’t move as he wanted.

Thunk.

Ricardt’s fist lightly touched Volka’s chin. He had lost. It was an overwhelming difference in skill. Volka felt it not in his head, but in his skin.

“This is why it’s deadly when your legs are injured. Want to go one more time?”

“…One more time.”

Ricardt distanced himself again. This time, Volka was limping on his left leg.

From this point on, it wasn’t really a spar or a match; it was essentially a one-sided beating. Volka took hits to his right leg as well, struggling to stay upright, and his focus naturally shifted to the pain in his legs.

Unable to decide where to block, he flailed his arms up and down, failing to block a single strike properly, getting hit all over his upper and lower body.

Naturally, this caused him to curl up his body, and eventually, he lay on the ground, curled up like a bug.

Ricardt looked down at Volka blankly for a while, then unwrapped the bandages from his fists. He then reached out his hand to help Volka up, and tried to support him by putting an arm around his shoulder.

“I’ll help you up.”

Boribori, who had been hiding, quickly came over to help support Volka from the other side, but Volka, in pain, pushed them away as best he could.

“I-I can walk on my own.”

Then he tried to stand on his own, but it really looked difficult.

Volka took a deep breath several times, seemingly trying to endure the pain while standing, then took one step at a time with great effort. Still, he stubbornly walked on his own.

Ricardt felt something pulling at his heart as he watched Volka’s back.

Last time, Volka had refused to surrender until the end, burning with determination. Now, seeing him stand up and walk on his own despite everything made Ricardt feel drawn to him.

On the other hand, he also felt sorry for him. Not because of anything else, but because he felt Volka was continually isolating himself.

Ricardt followed behind Volka, and Boribori, caught off guard, followed as well.

“Can I come visit your bed later?”

Ricardt asked, matching his pace with Volka who was walking slowly.

Volka found it so absurd that he almost laughed, which made his whole body hurt even more. He grimaced and barely managed to reply.

“I’m not interested in races between rabbits and turtles.”

“…?”

“You can come, but it won’t be fun.”

After entering the dormitory, Volka walked while leaning against the wall. The kids in the corridor made way for Volka as they saw him heading to his bed.

But then, about five or six unfamiliar boys opened the door on the opposite side and walked in.

Seeing them, Volka stepped aside. Ricardt and Boribori, following Volka’s lead, naturally stuck to the wall as well. Huh? Wasn’t Volka the leader here?

As the unfamiliar boys passed by Ricardt, the eyes of the boy at the front and Ricardt’s eyes met briefly.

He had hair as if it was coated in silver and looked like a descendant of elves, an extraordinarily handsome boy.

However, his basic expression was cold, as if he had no interest in anything in the world. For this reason, he quickly averted his gaze from Ricardt.

The boys went to the innermost, top bunk beds. After staying for a while, they left through the back door.

“Volka, weren’t you the leader?”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m asking if you weren’t the number one in the hierarchy here.”

“I’m not number one. But I am the leader, though. Ugh.”

Volka groaned as he climbed onto his bed. Ricardt followed him up and sat on the bed, watching as Volka lay down.

His gaze already carried a question, so Volka answered it on his own.

“They’re the Ice Faction, and the ones who just came in are ranked first to fifth here. I’m around twentieth. However, I introduce jobs to the kids and mobilize them when there’s a fight in the city, things like that. But those guys aren’t interested in any of this at all. I’ve never even seen them talk to anyone but themselves.”

In other words, while Volka was the practical leader, there were others more skilled in fighting or swordsmanship than him.

“If they don’t care, why are they here?”

“Well, they’re probably aiming for the top rank. Maybe even to become the Emperor’s Champion. Isn’t that your goal too?”

Becoming the Emperor’s Champion was like a dream come true. Because it meant becoming a noble by one’s own merit, and for a bastard child, it meant surpassing the prestige of their birth family.

They would no longer be oppressed; in fact, most nobles would bow before the Champion. Being the Emperor’s problem solver meant having the privilege to kill even nobles.

However, Ricardt had no interest in that. If anything, he had resentment towards the royal family that had started the war a hundred years ago.

“Not me. I’m interested in that Mana Drive thing, and the Codex. That’s why I want to take the ancient language class.”

During his week here, Ricardt noticed that swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat seemed to be taught just at a basic level.

If someone had no knowledge of combat techniques at all, taking those classes would make a big difference, but that didn’t apply to Ricardt.

So he wanted to take the ancient language class, but there was no lecturer for it. He had to wait until the academy appointed a professor for that class.

The academy didn’t have anyone permanently stationed here to teach the kids. People sent by the guild would teach for a few months or a year or two and then leave, getting replaced by others.

“…You’ve got some weirdo tendencies.”

Volka said incredulously.

He could understand being interested in the Mana Drive, but paying to take such a difficult and boring class was beyond his comprehension.

In fact, there were quite a few kids at the guild academy who couldn’t even read. If they couldn’t learn the existing languages, how could they learn ancient characters? To Volka, it seemed like something only a crazy person would do.

“Hahaha, that’s the first time I’ve been called a weirdo.”

After always being called an extraordinary genius, being called a weirdo actually pleased Ricardt. Because it meant they were seeing him for who he really was.

“Then could you show me around the city later?”

“…Sure. But I have to attend classes this week. Let’s go after that.”

“Is it okay if Boribori comes along too?”

“Bori, what?”

“The kid who was with me. His real name is Boribori.”

“…Alright, let’s do that.”

Ricardt grinned and was about to jump down from the top bunk when Volka called out.

“Hey.”

“Huh?”

Volka looked like he had something to say but hesitated. Then, unable to meet Ricardt’s eyes, he looked elsewhere and struggled to speak.

“…Thanks.”

“For what? For beating you up? Don’t tell me…”

“No. For teaching me.”

This place was ultimately about competition. So the higher up in the hierarchy you went, the more people tried to hide their know-how and techniques from each other. The concept of teaching someone simply didn’t exist.

Although Volka had been beaten by Ricardt, he had learned something valuable and had come to some realizations.

At some point, he had felt a gap in talent and couldn’t rise above 20th place no matter how hard he tried. But after hearing Ricardt’s explanation, it felt like some of the blocks had started to clear.

That was something he was genuinely grateful for.

Ricardt smiled gently and said,

“No need to say thanks.”

Then he hopped down to the floor below.

Volka looked at the space where Ricardt had disappeared, overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling.

He was a peculiar kid. This place was one where it was natural to look down on and bully those weaker than oneself. It was strictly hierarchical.

However, Ricardt didn’t boast about his strength or swagger about defeating Volka. In truth, he didn’t fit into this cruel and bleak place.

He taught without expecting anything in return, simply chatting and asking if he could do this or that with him. Volka didn’t know how to respond.

He had rarely experienced such pure kindness and warm, gentle words.

Growing up with his father’s violence, his half-siblings’ ostracism, and his mother’s indifference, Volka had never understood that these things were emotional scars. So feeling grateful was very unfamiliar and embarrassing to him.

Don’t say you’re sorry, don’t say thank you. He didn’t know when this tradition had come down to this place, but Volka had interpreted it as meaning that the strong could oppress the weak. It seemed the other kids thought so too.

If I’m stronger than the other person, I don’t need to thank them for anything I receive through exploitation. And if I hit or insult the other person, I don’t need to apologize. Why? Because I’m stronger.

But with Ricardt, it seemed to mean something different. Then what does it mean?

Volka wasn’t sure, but even as his whole body ached and hurt, he could clearly feel a warmth in his chest.

Chapter 4 – Don’t Say Thanks. The End.

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