The Warrior’s Ballad

Translator: Willia

Ricardt was well aware. That he didn’t fit in here, and that people were looking down on him.

For most people, those cold stares would have been enough to make them feel intimidated. But not Ricardt. He didn’t flinch, nor did he resent the people around him. They all just seemed so weak to him.

Because of that, only one thought crossed his mind: I won't be able to stay here long.

Marie wasn’t intimidated either, though her perspective was slightly different from Ricardt’s.

She had spent her whole life training in a swordsmanship family, enduring the scorn of being treated as an illegitimate child. Then one day, out of the blue, she was told she’d been legally recognized and ordered to enroll in the academy.

An illegitimate child turned imperial princess overnight. But in reality, nothing much had changed. She had merely been notified of this fact, she’d never even met her father, the Emperor, in person.

Because of this, Marie despised people who flaunted their status, wealth, or power. She could sense that same air in the gazes directed at her, and it disgusted her.

Ricardt merely gave a cursory glance at people his age, while Marie held her head high, meeting their condescending gazes with a cold and equally disdainful glare.

Perhaps because of the peculiar demeanor and atmosphere the two exuded, the way people looked at them began to change.

Upon closer inspection, Ricardt possessed a gentle yet unyielding boyish charm, while Marie’s beauty was simply overwhelming. It was as if her presence alone could render expensive clothes and jewelry irrelevant.

The reddish glow of the candles seemed as though it had been lit solely for the boy and girl, giving the illusion that they were the focal point of the entire room.

Ricardt took Marie’s hand and began to walk, intending to take a look around the banquet hall. All eyes followed them.

Their confident stride, unforced and natural, exuded an air of dignity that captivated the onlookers. Gradually, the gazes that had once been filled with disdain began to shift toward curiosity and subtle admiration.

However, among those gazes, envy and jealousy simmered as well. Who do they think they are? Aren’t they just penniless nobodies? Why are they acting so high and mighty?

At any gathering, there's always a dominant group, and within that group, there’s always someone who plays the role of the leader.

Near the fireplace, there was a group of young men and women seated together. Among them, a girl dressed in a deep pink dress adorned with pearls stood up, holding a fan in her hand, and began walking toward Ricardt and Marie.

“Hello there.”

Ricardt, who had been casually observing the rare delicacies laid out on the table, lifted his head to look at the girl. She had a cute face, but the corner of her lips curved slightly upward, giving her an air of subtle mockery.

"Yes."

“Is this your first time at a ‘Rising Stars’ gathering?”

"Rising Stars?"

“Yes. This is a gathering of the heirs of influential families in Ernburg. Naturally, the term ‘Rising Stars’ suits us.”

“Well, it sounds kind of childish.”

“…What?”

The girl's eyebrow twitched for a moment, wondering if she had heard wrong.

Out of nowhere, Ricardt found himself noticing how efficient the girl was at moving her facial muscles, her lip and eyebrow each moved independently, one at a time. He found it oddly impressive.

"If I may ask, what is your name, young lord?"

"Ricky. And you, my lady?"

"I am Regina. Those close to me call me 'Cute Reggie'. If you become close to me, you might have the honor of calling me Reggie as well."

Huh? What honor? What is this girl even talking about? Ricardt blinked, momentarily dumbfounded by her words.

Regina wasn't a traditional noble name. It was clearly the name of someone from a merchant family.

While technically considered nobles, merchant families were in a completely different league compared to titled, traditional aristocrats. There was a stark distinction in this era.

Still, Ricardt wasn’t here to dwell on social hierarchies, so he continued the conversation without paying much mind to it.

"By the way, are banquets usually this quiet? I thought banquets were supposed to be about people talking loudly, eating, and drinking."

In Stormhertz, banquets were occasionally held as well. However, they weren’t simply for entertainment. They served the important purpose of fostering camaraderie between the lord and his retainers. It was one of the more significant events.

Ricardt had seen even his stoic father loosen up with drink, exchanging crude jokes with the retainers during such gatherings. Because of this, Ricardt felt a certain disconnect with the atmosphere here.

A knightly family was a lineage of warriors. While they were conservative, valuing discipline and honor, warriors were also known for their boldness when it came to revelry.

Cultural differences existed from region to region, but such traits were usually the same across the board. Whether one was a count or a duke, families that upheld a strong martial spirit often shared this approach.

Yet, at Ricardt’s remark, Regina let out a satisfied smile.

“Hohoho, such banquets are something only country bumpkins indulge in. We’re different. Shouldn’t nobles maintain dignity and elegance at all times?”

"Not honor and discipline?"

"Those are things that mercenaries cling to. Unfortunately, the attire you’re wearing seems far removed from anything elegant.”

Regina quipped, her words laced with barbs like tiny needles.

However, her sharp tone had absolutely no effect on Ricardt.

Ricardt fully understood the intentions and mindset behind Regina’s words. But he merely considered her insignificant and thus felt no anger or offense.

“I’m well aware that my clothes don’t match this place, If you’d invited me when I had more money, I would’ve dressed to suit the occasion. But if my presence is so discomforting, I’ll gladly take my leave.”

“Ohhohoho! No, no. Bestowing charity upon the less fortunate is also a virtue nobles should uphold. Take your time and enjoy yourself, just don’t eat too greedily. It’s unsightly, you know. And should you need money, depending on how you behave, I could even ask my father to lend you some.”

Regina seemed to revel in what she thought was a successful attempt to humiliate Ricardt, her laughter brimming with self-satisfaction.

But Ricardt inwardly dismissed her as nothing more than a pathetic little child. He saw no value in engaging with her further. However, Marie, who had been quietly listening by his side, could no longer hold back.

Especially when it came to someone targeting Ricardt. This, she absolutely couldn’t tolerate.

"Excuse me, my lady. It seems you have quite the misguided fantasies about nobility."

Marie interjected. Though her outward gaze was cold, there was a fire burning within.

"What do you mean? I don't quite understand. There's no one here who isn't noble. Naturally, that includes me. What about 'your' family background, my lady?"

Regina spoke confidently, raising her chin, as she was from one of Ernburg's most prominent merchant families.

But she was no match for Marie, whose father was the Emperor and whose maternal family held the title of Court Count.

Though it was highly unlikely, if the two families were ever to come into conflict, Marie’s side could crush Regina’s merchant family with nothing more than the flick of a thumb.

Marie found it amusing, letting out a quiet scoff. She had no intention of revealing her family background to crush such an insignificant insect. She didn’t feel like it, nor did she see the need.

"In my opinion, our family seems to be more prestigious than yours, my lady. Why? Because we can display dignity and grace without adorning ourselves with expensive clothes and accessories. How unfortunate. No matter how much you adorn yourself on the outside, it won’t change the blood running through your veins. It's laughable that a mere merchant family would dare speak of elegance and dignity."

“…W-What did you just say?”

"Besides, aren't you just a puppet of your family, Lady Regina? You'll soon be sold off like a pig according to your family elders' decisions, so where's the dignity in that? Not me though. I'm free. Naturally, I have the freedom to choose what clothes to wear. So please, don't project your insecurities, irritation, and frustrations onto others. It’s quite pitiful to watch."

If Regina hid needles in her words, Marie wielded a blade, stabbing directly and mercilessly.

Regina, perhaps overwhelmed by the shock, found that her once upturned lips had now flattened into a neutral line. The other merchant family heirs around her gasped, covering their mouths in astonishment.

Regina, unwilling to admit defeat, tried to force her lips back into a smile, but it looked as difficult as lifting a boulder. She wanted to retort but ended up stuttering instead.

“W-what… w-what do you mean by… p-pig… How… how rude…”

“Why don’t you stay at home and quietly do some needlework. That suits you better."

Marie said, completely crushing Regina without hesitation.

Ricardt, watching the situation, thought to himself, My mother used to do needlework all the time too, but he wasn’t offended. After all, given the current context, it made sense.

The atmosphere in the room was taut, like an overinflated balloon about to burst. Just then, the voice of an adult man broke the tension.

“Hero?”

Ricardt turned his head to see a middle-aged man wearing the loose-fitting hat typical of merchants looking directly at him.

“I don’t know if I’m a hero, but I am indeed from the Beringen Guild branch.”

“Ah, my apologies! I thought you hadn’t arrived yet. Why didn't that fellow report to me? My apologies again. I should have personally escorted you. Please, come this way.”

It seemed like some sort of mix-up. It felt like he might have entered the wrong place.

“It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, my lady. By the way, needlework isn’t such a bad thing.”

Ricardt said to Regina, then followed the man alongside Marie.

The room, which had been quiet since Ricardt and Marie entered, remained silent even as they left. Meanwhile, Regina, though physically still, trembled with rage, her emotions boiling over inside her.

"I am Marconis, the head of the Marconis Trading Company. I should have properly received you. It was my oversight. Please forgive me."

The man who had invited Ricardt introduced himself in a reception room, where he served an expensive tea.

The tea he served was a luxury that could only be obtained from the distant Salaman region. It was more valuable than gold, not merely worth its weight in gold but literally more expensive.

Ricardt sipped the tea with a soft slurp. It had an aroma he’d never experienced before, something difficult to describe. Though the tea was hot, it gave off a cooling sensation.

"Is the tea to your liking?"

Marconis asked, smiling warmly. However, Ricardt felt something unsettling about that seemingly practiced smile.

“The aroma is unique. I like it,”

"And you, my lady?"

"It's fine for me too."

“That’s a relief. However, unfortunately, the banquet has ended. The place you were in earlier was the social hall. It’s where heirs from influential families in Ernburg gather to get acquainted and, if needed, find suitable matches. It must have been quite an interesting experience…”

Ricardt immediately realized that Marconis was lying. He could tell from the man’s eyes that he had intentionally guided them to that place.

What was his motive? To try to intimidate him? To apply pressure?

Maybe Marconis thought that sending Ricardt into a room full of young nobles to belittle or overwhelm him would give the merchant an advantage later during negotiations or discussions.

It was a clever technique, but shallow. Ricardt, uninterested in prolonging the conversation, decided he didn’t want to engage in idle chatter. After all, he wasn’t a merchant or a negotiator.

“It was fun enough, So, why did you invite me?”

"Hahaha, indeed, you're quite straightforward, as expected of a hero."

Marconis laughed at Ricardt's direct speech and attempt to get straight to the point.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Merchants were usually known for their drawn-out conversations, beating around the bush with carefully crafted words, like oil slicked on their tongues.

“Well then, to begin with, the first reason I invited you was to offer my greetings since I heard you recently started a business in the city. Your reputation precedes you, and I must admit, I was curious. Furthermore, adventurers’ guilds have always maintained close ties with merchants, haven’t they?”

It was true, so Ricardt nodded. Where money flowed, swords followed, and where swords were swung, blood-stained money spilled. That was how the world worked.

“So you called me here just to greet me. But I’m not exactly the best at small talk.”

“Haha, well, there is still a second reason, and this is the important one.”

"Go on."

"Have you heard of the Ernburg Stonemasons' Guild?"

“Yes, I’ve heard they’re quite famous around here.”

“They are skilled, I won’t deny that. But they’re such rough people that they often cause problems. Even though we paid them the agreed construction fee as per our contract, they’ve now occupied the dock and are demanding more money. Just because we’re merchants who deal with money doesn’t mean we have an endless supply of it, you know?”

Ricardt glanced down at his tea. Money isn’t infinite, but they still have the luxury to enjoy tea this expensive? he thought.

"So you want me to take care of them, is that it?"

“Hahaha... That’s a rather blunt way to put it. But yes, to put it simply, that’s what I’m asking. Every day the ship can't sail costs us 10 gold coins. It’s already been three days. What am I supposed to do?”

“What’s the breakdown? Advance payment, mid-payment, and final success fee?”

Ricardt asked. He found it exhausting to engage with Marconis, who seemed determined to drag out the conversation as much as possible.

Hearing Ricardt’s direct question, Marconis reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch of coins. With the clinking sound of gold, he carefully placed them on the table in two rows of ten. Each coin was polished to a gleaming shine, neatly lined up. It was a total of 20 gold coins.

“Twenty gold coins for the advance payment, ten for the mid-payment, and thirty for the success fee. A total of sixty gold coins.”

Of course, they’d have to draw up a formal contract, but the act of displaying the coins so blatantly seemed like a kind of negotiation tactic.

Sixty gold coins, it was a tremendous sum. Equivalent to 1,200 silver coins.

Previously, capturing the leader of the Murder Guild, Haspil, 'The One Who Makes Mothers Weep', had been worth a bounty of forty gold coins.

“I assume killing them is out of the question?”

“Yes, the job must be handled without bloodshed. That’s why we’re offering you such a high fee.”

“Alright. Then I’ll discuss it with my companions and get back to you. Thanks for the tea.”

“Huh?”

Having heard everything he needed to, Ricardt stood up from his seat without hesitation. Marconis blinked in confusion, his expression a mix of surprise and disbelief.

“I said I’ll contact you again. I’m heading out now. Take care.”

Ignoring Marconis’s reaction, Ricardt left the reception room with Marie. No matter how urgent money was, he wasn’t about to hastily commit to a contract.

As they exited the mansion, Ricardt noticed several people taking carriages back home. While many stayed the night at the estate, it seemed some chose to leave.

Like when they came, Ricardt and Marie decided to walk back to the guild building.

As they walked along the riverside, they saw reflections of docked ships and estate lights shimmering on the dark water. The way the light rippled on the surface made it seem as though the moon itself was submerged in the river.

The scenery was charming in its own way, but there was also a chilling atmosphere, as if an assassin might leap out from the shadows of the surrounding bushes.

Still, Ricardt and Marie were completely unafraid. They simply absorbed the beauty of the nighttime riverside.

“That man gives me a bad feeling.”

Marie said. Though she hadn’t seen through Marconis’s shallow tactics as precisely as Ricardt had, she was sharp enough to sense that something was off.

"Yeah."

“But it’s a little tricky to openly antagonize him, isn’t it? We need to establish ourselves in this city, and he’s one of the influential figures here.”

“We’ll have to wait and see how things unfold. Bori and Ice went to the docks, so let’s ask them. See what the situation is like there.”

“Alright.”

The two of them continued walking past the riverside and into the bustling streets of the city at night.

There wasn’t a single soul on the streets. The reason was simple: the city at night was far too dangerous, so everyone stayed holed up in their homes.

The boy and the girl continued walking through the empty streets. The sound of their footsteps - click-clack, thump-thump - echoed unusually loud in the stillness.

Ricardt looked up at the stars spread across the night sky, visible between the buildings. Beside him, Marie watched the boy quietly.

This was the extent of the distance between the two of them. To Marie, it was both a painful reality and a source of solace. She felt heartache, but at the same time, she was thankful. Thankful that even this much closeness existed. That she could reach out and take his hand if she wanted to. But she didn’t reach out, not now.

She wasn’t sure why, but she thought there was sadness in the boy’s eyes as he gazed at the night sky.

Why did he stop believing in love? Even though he knew how to cherish people's hearts. The thought suddenly made her feel pity for the boy.

To others, Ricardt might appear to be a genius swordsman, a terrifying foe, a loyal friend, or even a hero. But to Marie, he seemed like a strangely pitiful figure.

Because she was the only one who had ever knocked on the tightly shut door of his heart. Because of that, she could vaguely sense what lay beyond.

To her, he was both someone to admire and someone she felt the need to protect. Those two feelings coexisted within her.

But as the two approached the bridge under which the canal flowed, dark silhouettes appeared, blocking their path.

Thugs? Street delinquents? Such thoughts ran through Ricardt’s mind as one of the figures stepped forward, their footsteps echoing against the stone bridge. Then a familiar voice rang out.

“Among the many things that distinguish nobles from commoners, beyond dignity and etiquette, is power. Another word for it is authority. Surely, you didn’t think a lowly adventurer like you could insult me, a noble, and get away with it? I hope you're not that stupid."

The voice belonged to none other than Regina.

Ricardt’s hand moved to the dagger at his waist. He glanced toward the canal running beside the road and wondered, If I throw the bodies in there, will they be properly taken care of?

But before Ricardt could act, Marie stepped forward first.

"You're really annoying."

Perhaps because she had interrupted their precious time together, Marie's eyes no longer concealed her anger.

Seeing her expression, Ricardt briefly thought, Should I try to stop her? The intensity of her gaze made him feel that way, even though he himself had just been contemplating how to dispose of the bodies moments earlier.