The Warrior’s Ballad
Chapter 91

Translator: Willia

It must have been around this time. No, maybe I was a little older. When I left for the Eastern Expedition Territory. Back then, I had followed the Imperial recruiter without knowing anything.

Like a leaf floating and drifting aimlessly down the river, the place I arrived at after a month was, quite literally, hell.

But I didn’t fall into deep despair or discouragement. I just learned how to become a devil in hell while rolling around with my comrades.

How to stab, slash, and chop up to kill quickly and effectively, how to make blood tears flow from the enemies’ eyes, how to make them despair, how to thoroughly destroy everything, be it human or object.

Caldebert, you once told me I had the qualities of a poet. But wouldn’t you have been a much better person yourself if it hadn’t been for the battlefield?

Now that I think about it, maybe I didn’t even have to leave the battlefield. If it was only to face those lies and betrayals.

A single warm word, or even just a pitying glance in my direction would have been enough. But those cold eyes, really?

You might have thought I was dead. But still, that frigid gaze and such heartless words- was that really necessary? What choice did I have, then?

Other than killing everyone.

"Ricky."

Inside the rattling supply wagon, Marie, sitting opposite him, called out. Ricardt snapped out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just. Old memories."

"You're lost in them."

"Huh?"

"Stay alert. Alert."

Marie repeated what Ricardt had once told her. That made Ricardt let out a silly laugh.

"Alright. I’ll stay alert."

"Anyway, I hope this job ends quickly. We don’t have many agarwood left."

The agarwood they got from Dr. Reno were enough for about a month, but since then they had been buying more with their own money. They were not only expensive, but also hard to find, with prices fluctuating each time.

Sometimes they cost nearly as much as a whole house, and sometimes they were received in exchange for doing a job. Because of this, Ricardt and Marie’s financial situation was not good.

Marie, despite being a Sword Master, was practically penniless because of her poor choice in boyfriend. Of course, she had no complaints and only wished to do more for Ricardt.

Ricardt turned his head and looked out of the supply wagon. He could see adventurers from the Erneberg Branch silently marching with heads down. They reminded him of himself when he had left for the Eastern Expedition Territory.

But now the fields were turning yellow and dry. Originally, the plan had been to launch a subjugation in spring, but due to various realistic constraints, the order to gather had only come in autumn.

Surprisingly, the commander-in-chief was Court Count of Kelbron, Hellauman. He was taking command in person.

More than ten guilds had been mobilized, and about 100 adventurers from the Beringen Guild were participating. Of those, 40 were from the Erneberg Branch, the highest ratio. The total force was around 700.

However, Ricardt was a bit skeptical. Not for any particular reason, but because adventurers were not soldiers. In other words, this wasn’t an army.

Adventurers might have superior individual combat skills compared to regular soldiers, but in an army, what mattered more than individual combat ability was forming a collective with unity and organization.

In that respect, adventurers with distinct individual traits might be suited for scouting, extermination, or other small-scale special operations, but they were ill-suited for group battles.

Therefore, Ricardt believed that the more adventurers gathered, the more inefficient it became.

But then again, the enemies were probably in a similar situation, so he wasn't particularly worried.

More valuable than a Sword Master was a competent military commander. And he didn’t think there was such a person on either side, so in that sense, it felt fair.

"Looks like we're almost there. I can see it."

From outside the supply wagon, Boribori’s voice was heard. Ricardt jumped down from the moving wagon.

Then he saw colorful tents spread out across the distant field. Adventurers who had arrived earlier.

"By the way, I don’t see a river."

Volka, looking around, spoke. Only the vast plains that resembled calm waves could be seen- no sign of water anywhere.

"There’s no river here. We’ll have to dig a well."

Ricardt answered immediately, knowing the geographical features of this place.

Meanwhile, Ricardt's heart began to pound uncontrollably. It was to the point where it was hard to calm down. Thinking about it in his head and actually coming here gave him a very different feeling.

The familiar scent of nostalgia that arose from the mountains and fields, the sky and wind, made Ricardt’s heart ache again and again.

It felt like being cut with a knife, and at the same time, like he was becoming fulfilled. He couldn't explain it. A surge of emotion welled up inside him, and he tried hard to swallow it down without showing it.

Everywhere he looked, this place was steeped in heartbreaking nostalgia.

A place where betrayal and hatred, despair and anger had been conceived, and also the hometown of a pure boy who once lived more peacefully than anyone in the world.

Two supply wagons, five carts, and around forty adventurers from the Erneberg Branch approached the gathering point. Then, among those watching from a distance, people from the Beringen Guild came up and greeted them.

“Shit, did you rip out the foundation pillar to come here and work?”

"Wow, almost all of them really came."

“Don’t tell me you guys actually believe the promise made by the Fifth Prince?”

Greetings mixed with friendly jabs were directed at Volka and the other adventurers.

At the same time, the adventurers who had arrived earlier subtly glanced at the Erneberg quartet, Ricardt, Marie, Boribori, and Ice.

They especially took note of Ricardt’s breastplate that could be glimpsed beneath his cloak. The fact that he had destroyed an entire guild and taken its treasured weapon as spoils of war carried a unique symbolism.

“Hey, when else are we going to get a chance to become nobles if not now? This job is an opportunity. The ones who didn’t come are the morons.”

Volka spoke. Fifth Prince Bellator had declared that he would bestow titles upon those who distinguished themselves in the subjugation operation.

It wasn’t clear whether he had the authority to do so since he wasn’t the Emperor, but with so many lawless wastelands devastated by outlaws in the current world, it didn’t seem like a complete lie.

More than anything, the subjugation operation held great symbolic significance for Bellator as well. Because it was about avenging the former Emperor.

"Nobles are known to say one thing and do another. It wouldn't be the first time we've been deceived."

“Then why did you come here?”

“To tag along and get a piece of the pie. I mean, don’t you think I can get something out of this? Hey, life’s all about jumping in uninvited!”

“Haha, you moron.”

Volka exchanged meaningless banter with the clan leader and other branch leaders. Then he went to Dunkel’s tent to report their arrival and began organizing the campsite.

He leveled the ground with a shovel and spread tough fabric on the floor. Then, while pushing up thick logs, he began erecting the central pole.

When Ricardt lifted the heavy log by himself and drove it into the ground, a task that normally required several people, those around him watched in awe.

Anyway, after setting up a spacious two-person tent and placing a cot and other daily necessities inside, Ricardt began walking somewhere.

“Where are you going?”

Boribori, who was following Volka to a clan master-level meeting, turned around and asked.

“Ah, just going to look around.”

“Shouldn’t a lung disease patient get some rest?”

“It’s not like I lost an arm or leg.”

“Marie’s going with you, right? You better go together.”

It was truly something to live and see. Boribori was actually worried about Ricardt. It seemed like Ricardt’s poor condition was making others concerned.

Having someone worry about you was a pretty good feeling. That showed through in his smile.

“There she is. I’ll be back before sunset.”

Ricardt waited for Marie to arrive and then headed out with her onto the vast fields. The place they were heading for was the old village.

He stared straight at the sun. But for some reason, it didn’t feel blinding.

He didn’t know why he was looking at the sun, but he had a foreboding feeling, like something bad was definitely going to happen.

Then at some point, a round shadow began to cover the sun from above.

What in the world was this? Could something like this even be possible? The heart of the girl staring at the sun pounded loudly. An inexplicable fear, as if the world was about to end, swept over her.

The shadow descended further and further. It was as if the sun was closing its eyes. At a certain point, the bright day suddenly turned into night.

As the sun fully closed its eyes, the Holy Ring of Light flashed. And there was someone who wore it like a halo on their head.

Shrouded in pitch-black shadow, he stood on the Holy Altar and slowly turned his head, and his eyes burned with golden flames.

Then the unease transformed into an unbearable sorrow, pain, and regret that swallowed the girl whole.

“Haht!”

Daisy startled awake. Cold sweat ran down her face, and goosebumps had risen on her arms and neck. The soft bed and pillow were slightly damp.

Daisy took short, shallow breaths to calm her startled heart. Through a gap in the thick curtain, light from outside seeped in.

“Miquella, are you okay? Did you have another prophetic dream?”

Miquella was the name Daisy had received after joining the Order.

The girl on the bed next to her spoke to her, an extraordinarily beautiful girl whose beauty was almost painful to behold.

But Daisy, soaked in melancholy, was no less striking. The whites of her large eyes were as flawless as the smooth surface of a boiled egg, and her long blond hair was as soft as silk curtains.

“Yeah...”

“You’ve been having them often lately. A solar eclipse again?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re still better off than some of us. Ariella sees all sorts of horrific corpses in her dreams.”

“But the emotions come through. It’s sad and painful. I can’t bear it.”

A prophetic dream wasn’t just a glimpse of a future scene. It involved fully experiencing the emotions of the one in that situation, so negative emotions like fear, terror, and anxiety were felt just the same.

However, unlike Armand, she could not view the entirety with detachment, only fragmented parts, so the Order cross-verified facts by overlapping multiple visions.

It was relatively recently, through Daisy, that they discovered that the day of the solar eclipse would mark the resurrection of God, an event of decisive significance.

With the help of astronomy, they were able to pinpoint the exact date, and that was why that incident had occurred last year in the capital, Nibelungen.

The girl in the bed next to Daisy was also one of the Prophetic Nuns and looked three or four years older than Daisy, though that would still only be around fifteen or sixteen.

She came over to Daisy and stroked her shoulder in comfort.

“It’ll be over soon. When God resurrects, all this fear and anxiety will be taken away. We just need to think of Him. Believe. And obey. Then peace will dwell here.”

The girl pointed to Daisy’s heart as she spoke. But instead of answering, Daisy changed the subject.

“...By the way, does Aisa still dream?”

“I’m not much help, really.”

Just because one had prophetic dreams didn’t mean they were all useful. There were twelve Prophetic Nuns, but only three of them, like Daisy, had decisive visions.

One saw the resurrection, one saw the Blade of Golden Flame, and one saw a blood-drenched battlefield. The Order interpreted this as God resurrecting and killing all the enemies.

In any case, since the Order didn’t know God’s preferences, they managed the nuns by age groups, from twelve to twenty years old.

Once God was resurrected, the nuns were to be educated to worship, revere, love, and offer everything to Him, continuing His bloodline.

But Daisy was different. She had buried her true feelings deep within her heart. Because the one she truly loved was not God, but another man.

“Still, I want to hear it.”

Aisa didn’t understand why Daisy liked her simple visions so much. But if it could calm her down, she didn’t mind telling her.

“Hmm... alright. A cool breeze, the midday sunlight is warm, a ruined village, and in the southwest, a solitary house. There, a young man in a red cloak. His eyes are hazel...”

Every time Daisy heard that trivial tale no, that vision, her heart beat wildly. Because she was convinced that the young man was none other than her true love, Ricardt.

She couldn’t forget it. That moment was forever etched in Daisy’s heart.

‘I’m Ricky. What’s your name?’

She didn’t care about God. To Daisy, that boy was her savior.

“Are you feeling better now? Want to go wash up?”

“Yeah.”

Daisy was led by Aisa and headed to the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was meticulously finished with marble tiles and looked very luxurious. On top of that, warm water was always available.

The Prophetic Nuns received strict education, but their overall management was rather lenient. Because they were women who would serve God, no one in the Order could treat them carelessly or punish them.

So, in truth, most of what the nuns did was take care of their beauty or practice arias that would please God.

They were provided with nutritious fresh food, clean bathwater every day, and specially crafted beauty ointments made by the Order.

Compared to the children in the Sword Master training course, the difference in treatment was like heaven and earth.

In return, the nuns always had to wear plain robes and veils, and they were never allowed to show their faces to anyone.

Because they lived completely cut off from the outside world, the nuns formed tight bonds with one another.

But just as Daisy and Aisa finished washing, brushing each other’s hair, and applying ointments, something happened.

Instead of heading back to the dormitory, Daisy started walking toward a completely different place.

“Where are you going?”

“Aisa, keep watch for me.”

“You- Ah, not again.”

Apparently, this wasn’t the first time. Aisa was flustered.

The area where the Prophetic Nuns lived was like a private annex within the vast temple, so there was very little surveillance.

Daisy went to a small side gate in the temple wall and lightly unlocked a rusty lock. It was one she had sawed through herself over several days.

Aisa didn’t know what to do and kept glancing around nervously. Her veil fluttered along with her movement.

But Daisy opened the side gate without hesitation.

“Miquella! You must be back before sunset!”

Aisa called out in a low voice. The nuns might not be punished, but if they got caught, they had to listen to a full day of scolding and sermons from the senior nun.

“Got it. Don’t worry. I know what time it is.”

Aisa’s prophecy clearly said it would be midday, so Daisy believed she could return before sunset.

She boldly stepped outside. And she threw off the cumbersome veil fluttering in the wind.

Her long robe clung to her body from the wind, but Daisy’s steps were unwavering. It didn’t feel like she was waiting for fate, but rather trying to seize it for herself.

When her mother entrusted her to the Order, Daisy had passed through the ruined village. So she knew exactly where it was.

Starting early in the cool morning, Daisy walked for nearly four or five hours before she reached the ruined village. It had been abandoned for over a hundred years, so it was overgrown with grass, as if it were part of nature itself.

She hadn’t eaten and should have been hungry, but it didn’t matter. “Southwest, southwest”, she murmured, and arrived at a house with no roof, open to the sky.

She entered and crouched down, waiting without any particular plan. Occasionally, she looked at the sun to guess the time.

It didn’t matter if it wasn’t today. She could come again, and again. In fact, coming here often and waiting had become a routine of sorts.

But perhaps from walking for hours without rest, she was exhausted, and like a sick chick, Daisy began to nod off.

How long had she slept? Suddenly, a cool breeze blew and gently caressed Daisy. Like a prophetic wind, it whispered that he had come.

“Huh? There’s someone here.”

A stranger’s voice. Daisy jolted awake and raised her head. A man in a red cloak, standing with the light behind him. Huh...?

Because of the backlight, Daisy squinted. As her eyes slowly adjusted, she could make out the man’s face, but didn’t recognize him right away.

It was because he had grown so much in the time they hadn’t seen each other. His face still had traces of youth, but he could no longer be called a boy.

“Huh?”

Ricardt also felt that she looked familiar but couldn’t immediately recognize the slightly changed Daisy. Marie, who had been elsewhere, approached.

“There’s someone here? Is she a spy?”

At that moment, Daisy leapt into the arms of the man she had longed to call out to.

“My love!”