The Warrior’s Ballad
Chapter 99

Translator: Willia

Going on a long journey was truly exhausting and grueling.

Walking for a long time was tiring, but even beyond that, one had to endure the difference in temperature between day and night, uncomfortable sleeping conditions, thirst, hunger, all of it at once.

There was no map. No one knew how far the journey was. So naturally, no one knew how long it would take either.

It was a time when many naive rural people believed that leaving the village meant certain death. Most people lived their whole lives without ever leaving the place they were born.

Thus, setting out on a long journey was an act that, in itself, meant preparing for death.

In such an environment, children became adults quickly. They rarely cried, and they didn’t whine. It was because, deep down, they subconsciously understood that if they did, they might really be abandoned.

They knew the patience of adults was as dried out as the drought season. And they also knew that if a little bit of water filled the well again, a helping hand might come to them.

Patience was a suit of armor that even a six-year-old child had to wear.

Roy, son of Hartmann, walked without complaint. Even when it was hard, he never showed it.

Rather, he wished to grow up quickly so he could carry his sister’s burden, and then, as he grew more, his mother’s burden, and eventually, his father’s burden too. It only frustrated him that time didn’t move faster.

By following the adults, he naturally learned things. That one should cross open fields as quickly as possible, that it’s best to walk along the edges of forests, and though mountain passes were difficult, they were relatively safer from bandits.

That’s why they were now crossing a hard mountain pass. Naturally, the wheels of the cart rattled louder than usual.

Then came a cracking sound, and the wheel popped off. People turned in surprise, and the ox kept dragging the cart for a while, not realizing it had broken.

“Whoa, whoa.”

“Damn it.”

The procession came to a stop. Fixing it would probably take a long time, right? Roy thought he’d finally get to rest. Thank you, ox. Thanks for letting me rest. Oxen had such beautiful eyes.

The adults looked serious. It wasn’t just a matter of putting the wheel back on, it was that the axle itself was broken. Honestly, it had held up for a long time already.

“Throw away what needs to be thrown away.”

Bremen said as he looked over the scattered household goods.

“This is my property. I can’t throw it away.”

Geiser spoke with a frown, slightly annoyed. His tone implied, “Who are you to decide whether I throw away my property or not?”

Bremen didn’t get easily swayed, as if his age had not been wasted.

“You won’t starve to death for the lack of a few pieces of furniture. Since things have turned out this way, I recommend using them for firewood. We could set up camp after just a little more walking.”

“......”

“If you don’t want to throw them away, then have your children carry them instead of the ox.”

A young man in the group said mockingly. He had no family and always stuck close to two other friends around his age.

Geiser hesitated, unable to say or do anything. Hartmann, who had been watching quietly from a short distance away, approached him.

“Is there something you absolutely must keep? I’ll help you.”

The burden Hartmann was carrying wasn’t light either. Even so, he was offering to carry some of Geiser’s load if there was something that truly had to be brought along.

“......”

Geiser remained silent, then called over his three daughters and his son. Then, he threw away all the furniture and packed only the essentials: a tin pot, ladle, bowls, a sack of food, salt, a tent, and blankets.

He loaded those back onto the ox and decided to carry the rest himself.

“Lend me your axe.”

Hartmann lent him his logging axe, and Geiser began chopping up the beloved furniture he had cherished for so long. But as it turned out, swinging an axe wasn’t easy if one wasn’t used to it, and it didn’t go as smoothly as he expected.

He only wasted his strength and panted heavily. Hartmann, without a word, took the axe back and began splitting the pieces cleanly along the grain with a single blow each time.

Crack! Whack! Crack! Crack!

Then he bundled them up with rope like real firewood and placed them atop his own luggage. Once slung over his back, the load rose far above the top of his head.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves another ox here.”

Bremen said with a laugh. Hartmann really seemed the very image of a strong, steadfast man.

The group started moving again. They climbed the mountain pass step by step, struggling along the way.

He said they would find a nearby place to camp, but even after crossing the ridge, they walked for two more hours.

In the late afternoon, when the sun had already sunk quite low, Bremen finally suggested resting at the base of the mountain. No matter how strong one was, even Hartmann had to put down his load and massage his shoulders.

At that, Roy quickly ran over to massage his father's shoulders. It didn’t help much in truth, but the devoted touch of his son naturally brought a smile to Hartmann’s face.

"That feels good."

The women gathered firewood, lit the fire, and began preparing dinner by placing pots and cauldrons over it.

Here, the difference between those with families and those without became clear. People with families had their roles and their own little fences of safety.

Single mother with children and no husbands were in a truly difficult position during such times. It was one thing to blend in during the day, but at night, their solitude became painfully evident.

They lacked the things others took for granted. It made them feel small, embarrassed for no real reason.

So they would take unground grains to a spot where no one could see and just soak them in water, quietly eating alone.

It wasn’t a meal, really, more like simply filling one’s stomach. Then she nursed her baby. She was eighteen years old.

Tonight, she was about to do the same when someone called out to her.

“Ma’am, come eat over here.”

Dalia didn’t even realize she was being called and didn’t respond.

“Ma’am, ma’am.”

Only after hearing it repeatedly did she turn her head, realizing someone was calling her. It was Elia, Hartmann’s wife.

“Yes? Me?”

“Yes, ma’am. The soup is warm. Please have some.”

Dalia blinked in bewilderment. She had rarely received such kindness in her life, so she couldn’t quite understand what was happening.

Eventually, Elia got up and gently took her by the hand.

Dalia sat down at a spot near the fire, still dazed, and Roy asked,

“What’s your baby’s name?”

“...Huh? Uh, Riche. His name is Riche.”

“Does that mean ‘to become rich’?”

Roy’s sister, Beka, asked.

"No...... it means he should become a person of dignity......"

Dalia answered shyly. She herself knew the word ‘dignity’ didn’t suit someone like a prostitute. But as a mother, she wanted her son to be different.

“That’s a nice name.”

“What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Oh, I’m Dalia.”

It was a name typical of a prostitute. But the Hartmann family didn’t know much about such things, so they just thought it was a pretty and exotic name.

Elia scooped soup from the pot and handed it to Dalia. In truth, it was more like thin porridge than soup.

Dalia received the wooden bowl with both hands, glanced around hesitantly, then drank a little. It was warm. As soon as she felt the warmth, a single tear unknowingly fell from her eye.

“Let’s eat together from now on.”

Elia said. But Dalia, choking up, couldn’t answer. She felt like she would break down in sobs if she opened her mouth.

The Hartmann family sensed this too, so they didn’t say anything more.

Others in the group quietly watched as the Hartmanns showed kindness to a single mother from a prostitute background.

Their hearts were moved too, but the world was harsh, so they simply let it pass like it was nothing.

Dusk settled, and full night arrived. People grouped up, laid out their bedding, and tried to get some sleep. The men took turns keeping watch, as planned.

But then, the sound of someone approaching from the darkness was heard.

At first, everyone tensed up, but realizing it was only one set of footsteps, they assumed it was a traveler. But he wasn’t.

He was a man wearing a leather overcoat with a sword at his waist.

Even after seeing how many people were in the group, he showed no signs of fear. On the contrary, he stared boldly at them. Standing with one leg cocked to the side, he threw out a line in a blunt tone.

“It’s you, right? The ones who killed Bilky.”

“......”

The stranger’s provocative attitude made some people shrink back, others tense up.

“We don’t know anyone like that.”

Bremen replied.

“Old man, don’t give me that. I know everything. Someone in your group is the one who killed Bilky.”

It seemed clear that the one Hartmann had killed was Bilky. How the stranger found out was a mystery, but in truth, a little asking around would have made it easy.

Everyone knew that the man carrying an axe had followed Bremen.

“I said we don’t know him. Don’t accuse the wrong people. We’ve got six men. If you want to fight, you’ll have to suffer losses too.”

At that, the stranger smirked.

"This old man has really lost his touch. But don’t jump to conclusions just yet. I came with a perfectly reasonable proposal. Hand over the one who killed Bilky, or hand over one woman, or one ox. Then I’ll let it go. I’m offering you three choices. That’s rare. Pick whichever you like.”

“And if we refuse?”

“Then by the time the sun rises tomorrow, something unpleasant will happen.”

It wasn’t a proposal, it was a plain threat. Hartmann stayed quiet at first but then stood up, unable to hold it in. Whether it was wise or not, his nature couldn’t stand injustice.

“He tried to harm my family, so I killed him. Why, then, should we make a deal?”

To Hartmann’s question, the man from the bandit gang stared silently at him and his family before answering.

“Your wife and children are alive. Our comrade is dead. I think this offer is actually merciful.”

“Did he have a daughter?”

“What?”

“I asked if that Bilky fellow had a daughter.”

“No idea. Who knows what bastard kids he might have out there.”

“Then the deal doesn’t make sense. Unless his daughter is going to suffer the same thing.”

“...Hmm, is that how it works? I don’t know. Anyway, the deadline is tomorrow morning. Think it over.”

It was an age where fairness and justice weren’t well-defined concepts, so arguing was pointless.

The man, a member of the bandit gang, walked off into the darkness and disappeared. A tense silence fell over the group. Only the crackling of the campfire was heard.

Bremen, the guide and de facto leader of the group, was the first to speak.

“I’ll say this now: we’re not handing anyone over.”

“How come?”

“Because I made a promise to each and every person here. I said I’d take them to the Eastern Frontier.”

"What are you saying? That we should all die together?"

“The woodcutter is obviously the strongest among us. If we give him up, we’ll be weaker, and they won’t leave weaklings alone. Don’t think bandits will keep their promises. Second, handing over a woman is also not an option. As I said, I made a promise to everyone here. The cheapest option is the ox.”

“Don’t talk nonsense!”

Geiser shouted furiously into the quiet night. Understandably so, an ox was more valuable than a human life in those days. It was the greatest asset a commoner could own.

“Can’t we just hand over that prostitute?”

One of the three young men who always stuck together said. At that, Dalia froze with fear.

“I-I paid. I definitely did.”

"Is there anyone here who didn't pay? But you’re the most useless. What you paid was just a guide fee. Not protection money. Do you even have the funds to resupply midway? You just plan to keep freeloading?”

“M-money... I-I can manage somehow...”

“Going to sell your body when we get to a city? Right, once a whore, always a whore. What kind of prostitute tags along with a group like this!”

“Watch your mouth!”

Elia shouted angrily. She was standing up for Dalia because she had seen how responsibly Dalia cared for her son over the past few days. As a fellow mother, she couldn’t ignore it.

In some ways, Hartmann should’ve taken responsibility for the current situation. But no one suggested handing him over.

That was because a strong adult male was the most essential person in the group right now. No, in those days, he was vital anywhere. Strong men constantly died in wars and such.

Ultimately, when crisis struck, it was the weakest who were offered up first. You couldn’t really call it good or evil, this was just typical human nature.

But even so, there were always people who rose above it. Those were the ones called heroes.

“Where’s that shepherd named Ricky?”

In the middle of the adults’ argument, a young voice broke in. It was Roy.

Some people frowned, wondering why a little kid was speaking up, clicking their tongues and muttering about how that family clearly lacked proper discipline.

But Bremen paid attention to Roy’s words.

“Shh! Wait! Everyone quiet!”

The shouting match of the night came to a pause. Bremen calculated in his head the current location and the distance to where the shepherd grazed his flock.

Since shepherds roamed wide areas, it was difficult to run into them unless you deliberately went to their home. Bremen himself had only encountered him once by chance and didn’t know where his house was.

Still, he felt there was no other choice now. It was because he was someone who refused to give up on people, no matter the cost.

“Prepare to move. If we travel overnight, we might be able to find that shepherd.”

“What the fuck...”

Geiser couldn’t believe it, they were placing their last hope on that ridiculous shepherd? All they had to do was hand over one prostitute and it’d all be over!

But the Hartmann family immediately agreed with Bremen and began packing their belongings. Naturally, Dalia followed as well, and since Hartmann was the most reliable, even the three young men decided to go along.

“F-Father...”

One of Geiser’s daughters called out to him. Geiser cursed, “Goddamn it” and started packing too.

Traveling without sleep in the middle of the night was grueling beyond description. On top of that, since they needed to carry torches to navigate, they risked being spotted.

After only a few hours of walking, the children began to tire. Hartmann started discarding this and that, even precious food, to carry the kids on his back. Survival came first.

Elia also dropped household goods to carry someone else’s child. Dalia carried her own son in front and another child on her back.

Wouldn’t it be better to load them on the ox? But the ox was already carrying all their luggage.

They were effectively conducting a forced night march that would exhaust even seasoned soldiers, and to make matters worse, the bandits followed them. It seemed they had been waiting nearby all along. Perhaps, even if they had offered the woman or the ox, they would have been attacked anyway.

The bandits kept their distance, perhaps avoiding direct combat in the dark, but continued trailing them steadily. It was more draining mentally than physically for those being pursued.

Curses like “Fuck, fuck” slipped out of people’s mouths. At some point, they became so exhausted that they lost all sense of time and simply kept walking.

Eventually, they were so tired they sleepwalked, legs moving even while nodding off. Each time they opened their eyes, unfamiliar scenery greeted them.

Then, as the dark night slowly began to lift, dawn started to break.

When they could barely make out the landscape, the bandits behind them suddenly increased their pace and began to run.

Startled, Hartmann quickly handed the son he had been carrying to his daughter.

“No matter what happens, protect your brother!”

“Father!”

His daughter cried out desperately, but Hartmann gripped his axe and stood to face a dozen or so bandits alone.

Beka was frozen, unable to move or act. That’s when Dalia grabbed her and began to drag her away.

“Let go of me! My father!”

But now wasn’t the time to worry about her father. She had to worry about herself. The bandits knew Hartmann wasn’t an easy target, so they only pretended to fight and focused on keeping him occupied.

The rest of them chased the others. Only then did Beka snap out of it and run. Her younger brother had also woken up at some point and was now running across the field, holding his sister’s hand.

“Wait! I surrender! I surrenderrrr!”

A voice shouted surrender. It sounded like one of the three young men who had been traveling with them.

“My ox is off-limits! You bastards!”

As expected, what the bandits really wanted was the ox. Geiser fought to protect it until the end but ended up getting stabbed. Was he dead? Just injured? No one could tell.

Hartmann had tried to hold the rear, but the bandits dismissed him at first. When they finally made a move to steal the ox, he rushed back and swung his axe wildly at them.

But the bandits let go of the reins and retreated early, refusing to engage him directly. Clearly, they were no amateurs, this was far from their first time robbing travelers.

The sky continued to brighten, turning a deep, vivid blue.

The startled ox ran off wildly, faster than any person. By this point, even the bandits became confused, unsure whether they should keep targeting the people or go after the ox.

As their objective wavered, so did their coordination. Their pursuit turned chaotic and scattered. Unfortunately, the ones falling furthest behind were Beka and Roy. The bandits’ hands drew ever closer to the siblings.

Hartmann, who had been desperately swinging his axe, saw this and screamed with a heart-rending voice.

“Roy! Beka!”

Roy turned his head while running. The most terrifying hand in the world was coming for him.

And then, he tripped on a stone and was sent flying.

Just as he was about to slam his face into the ground, someone caught him gently. His sister? No, the strength in that grip was far too solid for it to be her.

The hand of the bandit trying to grab Roy froze in place. So did his steps.

The one who had caught Roy helped him to his feet. In Roy’s eyes, a few sheep could be seen in the distance.

When he looked up, a blond young man stood there in ragged clothes, holding the kind of staff shepherds usually carried.

The other fleeing people had also stopped and turned back. More precisely, they were all looking at the shepherd.

“Close your eyes, child.”

The shepherd spoke to Roy without taking his eyes off the bandit.

Roy obeyed and closed his eyes. At that urgent moment, even while gasping for breath as if he’d collapse, a strange calm came over him.

The bandits had been charging ahead, only to pause at the sight of the sudden shepherd. They raised their weapons to threaten him, but unlike with Hartmann, they couldn’t simply keep their distance and maintain a standoff.

Because the shepherd moved like the wind and closed the distance in an instant.

Whoosh!

A sound sliced through the air as a wooden staff swung, and the bandit who had reached for Roy had his neck cleanly severed.

Roy, eyes still closed, heard something heavy drop to the ground with a thud, followed by the slump of a body collapsing. There was no scream.

Everyone who had been in the middle of chasing or fleeing froze in place as if time had stopped, staring at the shepherd. And at the body now missing its head.

This wasn’t just some skilled shepherd, it was someone whose abilities bordered on magic. The shock left the onlookers dazed. It was too unbelievable to trust even after seeing it.

But time had not actually stopped, because the sun was slowly beginning to rise.

****

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