The Warrior’s Ballad
Chapter 95

Translator: Willia

“Those bastards are ruthless.”

Ricardt spoke, turning his back on the disordered campsite that had been shaken by a night raid. He was looking down at something, it was the remains of a body that had exploded.

“Looks like the Order has a necromancer. Just like the Ernburg Five.”

Though they hadn’t faced one directly, Ricardt and Boribori had witnessed the horrifying traces and atrocities of a necromancer before.

This was why mages were always unsettling. People had good reason to hate them, and Ricardt and Boribori felt the same.

“It’s not a necromancer. It’s a curse caster.”

It was Daisy’s voice. When Ricardt and Boribori turned around, they saw her standing with Ice. She wasn’t wearing mourning clothes but rather plain, shabby ones, with her long blonde hair hanging down.

“Don’t go, Ricky.”

Daisy said. Ricardt stared at her silently.

“Then where do you want me to go?”

“Let’s just go far away together.”

“Far where?”

“Just far.”

“Sorry, but I don’t run. You don’t have to come with me.”

She ran yesterday, Ricardt thought, though he didn’t say it aloud now.

“Ernburg, gather!”

"Assemble, everyone!"

“Gather! Gatherrr!”

Voices calling for assembly rang out from the campsite. So Ricardt and Boribori passed by Daisy without a word and headed to the gathering spot.

Everyone assembled in front of Volka’s tent. Volka came out of the tent and stepped up onto a wooden box and began to speak. Ricardt, with his arm around Marie’s waist, listened to the words of his friend and superior.

“As you all know, yesterday was a fuckfest. But the commander’s satisfied with our response. And what else did he say? Oh, right. You all saw those fucking bastards messing around with magic, right? Hey, fuck, I know you don’t care whether it’s the Order or the Emperor. Honestly, I don’t either. But this ain’t it, is it? These bastards are straight-up cultists and demon worshippers. Are we really gonna let shits like that live?”

Typical of Volka’s kind of speech. It was like he was talking to a friend. That’s why some chuckles broke out here and there, including from Ricardt.

“Hey, quit laughing. I’m serious. Anyway, our objective is simple. Kill everyone inside that Holy Fortress or whatever it is. Don’t spare the kids or the women. We don’t need prisoners. But don’t touch any items in there carelessly. Don’t start any fires. As for rewards, you already know, you’ll get money or land. So they said to play nice if you want that. Uh, and…”

Volka checked the paper in his hand. He wasn’t illiterate, but maybe he couldn’t read his own bad handwriting, so he furrowed his brow for a while, staring at it.

In the end, one of the adventurers serving as Volka’s second-in-command helped him out.

“The sword. Holy Sword.”

“Oh, right. Our operation is to advance from the east straight to the center of the Holy Fortress, and they say the Holy Sword is in the center. Apparently, it’s super important to the cultists. So we either smash it or seize it. We’re going to secure the convent area first, and kill everything you see. They’re not real nuns, got it? Anyone not following?”

Someone sitting down raised a hand. Volka pointed at him with a nod.

“You said we’d split into teams. What’s the deal with that?”

"There's no such thing. It's best to operate with your usual clans. However, the entire force will be divided into four large units, attacking from four directions. We're taking the eastern side."

It seemed they were going with the simplest plan. It seemed right, and Ricardt had no objections.

“Are we teaming up with any other guilds or what?”

“Not us. That would just be a pain. And.”

Volka gestured with his chin toward Ricardt and Marie this time. Everyone immediately nodded in agreement.

With a Sword Master, Ricardt, along with Boribori and Ice, providing additional troops would be wasteful.

And just like Volka said, it was better to go into battle with people you were already used to.

Teaming up with unfamiliar people could cause a lack of coordination, and if conflicts arose in that state, things that could’ve worked wouldn’t.

“Lastly, in battle, listen to Ricky. No matter what. Got it?”

Everyone nodded as if they understood, without the slightest complaint. It wasn’t simply because Ricardt was famous, but because they had experienced it for themselves.

They had learned through experience that Ricardt’s judgment, execution, and problem-solving abilities were always the right answer.

“This is kinda burdensome.”

Ricardt muttered quietly. He was only used to solo missions or small-scale operations with a few friends, this was the first time he was responsible for so many lives.

“I’ll protect you.”

Marie whispered.

“Ricky, you wanna say a few words?”

Volka asked. Ricardt shook his head with a smile.

“Alright then. The operation starts in three days. You might think it’s a bit soon, but the ones who came early have already been loafing around here for over ten days. Plus, since we fought off the night raid so well, we should ride that momentum. Everyone, handle your personal maintenance, and cut back on the booze. Dismissed.”

Volka waved his hand dismissively, and the adventurers broke up into small groups. Since most of them were seasoned through various combat-related commissions, no one seemed especially tense.

Still, total annihilation as an objective... It wasn’t incomprehensible, but Ricardt couldn’t help feeling uneasy.

He suddenly wondered how things had come to this. Gods, or demons. He was sick of people who only saw what they wanted to see.

Whether it was the Order of Judgement or the Imperial Family, to them, Ricky from his past life might’ve just been an excuse. An excuse to justify what they were doing.

Ricardt pulled Marie in closer. It gave him a bit of comfort.

Once the operation was set, drinking and partying died down considerably. The adventurers gathered their focus and carefully maintained their weapons.

Some even found romance, one adventurer, having fallen for a prostitute, promised to marry her if they met again.

Time passed, and three days later, Ricardt and the adventurers set out at dawn. Of course, they had no siege equipment, only ladders.

And Daisy came along too. The closer they got to the Holy Fortress, the more visibly anxious she and Ice became.

After walking non-stop for five or six hours, they saw the flatland fortress standing alone in the middle of the field. A few figures were spotted on the ramparts, but when they saw the adventurers approaching, they disappeared from sight.

Would a cult like this even have any defensive force? The fortress looked quite grand, but not a single guard could be seen on the walls.

Ricardt followed Volka to the eastern wall, but the side gate Daisy had come through was already sealed and completely blocked with rubble.

Not that it mattered, there were no enemies to stop them from climbing up using ladders.

There were few clouds and the sunlight was bright. A cool breeze blew, but for some reason, it felt desolate. Upon arriving at the cult's Holy Fortress, a strange sense of unease filled the air.

No one dared move first, so Ricardt equipped his iron-shaped shield on his left arm and climbed the ladder ahead of everyone. Once he reached the top and looked inside, he could see livable buildings and other facility structures.

Ricardt gestured for the advance group, Volka, Marie, and Boribori to come up. Then he gave the order.

“Open the main gate, and check over there and there to see if anyone’s inside. We’ve been told to kill anyone visible, so if there’s someone, take them out. For now, let’s secure this place. Then we’ll move toward the center, and if something happens, we fall back to here. This will be our rally point.”

“Got it.”

By now, Volka understood Ricardt with just a glance and nodded right away. He went down into the fortress using the stairs, cut the rope, and opened the gate. Forty adventurers swarmed inside.

Volka divided the teams by clan and ordered them to search the buildings. Ricardt stayed alert, watching for any possible ambushes.

Daisy, worried about the nun sisters, was nervous they might get hurt. But whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, they were nowhere to be found. The place was just empty.

“Why is no one here? Doesn’t seem like they ran.”

“Maybe they’re preparing a final stand deeper inside.”

“Daisy, do you know the layout here?”

Ricardt asked.

“No. The nuns were rarely allowed to leave. I was the only one who occasionally wandered outside.”

“Ice?”

“This is my first time at the convent too, so I don’t know. The Holy Knight training ground is near the south gate.”

The large rectangular flatland fortress was sectioned off into separate zones. Tall walls blocked the paths, so to reach the central area, they had to pass through another gate or something similar.

But it was eerily quiet, almost suspiciously so. Had they given up, or, as Marie said, were they preparing for a last-ditch stand?

Ricardt took his time and thoroughly inspected the surroundings. He even climbed the outer wall again to check if enemies were hiding outside and looked for any way to contact the other infiltration teams.

However, the fortress was oddly constructed, so unless one circled around along the wall, it was impossible to see far ahead.

“Leave about ten people and open the gate. We need someone on the wall to keep an eye outside.”

“Got it, Ricky.”

When Ricardt gave the order, the adventurers brought over a log-like battering ram, and four men on each side struck the gate. But it didn’t seem to be locked, it just burst open.

A dark indoor corridor stretched out before them.

Though it was midday outside, the corridor was pitch dark. Sunlight touched the entrance, but deeper inside, it was black as the throat of a demon. The place reeked of ominousness.

“Bring the sandbags.”

Ricardt said. When the adventurers brought the prepared items, he tossed the heavy sandbags down the hallway one by one. He was checking for traps.

Sure enough, on the third or fourth sandbag, sharp spearheads sprang up from the floor with a loud snap!

“Vile bastards…”

Boribori muttered. Having never seen such intricate traps before, it sent chills down his spine. Traps carried an inherent sense of sinister aggression.

Once the traps were confirmed, adventurers wielding sledgehammers were deployed. They smashed the floors and walls carefully as they slowly advanced.

The walls were adorned with sculptures so detailed they bordered on fine art, depictions of gargoyles and monsters. It was strange how people claiming to believe in God would create such things.

Since they were cautiously testing every step like crossing a fragile stone bridge, their pace was inevitably slow. But for safety’s sake, it had to be done this way.

The adventurers acted as if each had a designated role, those with hammers led the way, while others rotated in and mounted torches on the walls.

Eventually, they reached a point midway down the corridor where they found a door leading to a room.

Ricardt signaled the others to stand back, then pressed himself against the wall and listened closely.

He was checking for signs of life inside, and the reason he didn’t stand right in front of the door was that someone could suddenly stab out with a spear from within.

Once his keen senses confirmed whether an enemy was present, Ricardt kicked the door with all his might. With a loud crash, the hinges broke in one go and the door flew open.

“Gasp!”

But the moment the interior was revealed, he involuntarily gasped. Boribori, Volka, Ice, Marie, and the other adventurers peered inside out of curiosity, and they too were horrified like Ricardt.

“Gasp!”

“Fuck!”

It was impossible not to curse. Because inside was a human experimentation chamber.

A nightmarish sight, one beyond imagination, unfolded before them. Even without any physical attack, the sheer shock was mentally overwhelming.

The walls were painted with grotesque diagrams in blood, severed body parts were heaped in the corners, and gruesome torture devices, caked with blood and fur, were strewn across the desks.

Maggots crawled everywhere, and the mix of chemicals, filth, and rotting corpses created an indescribably foul stench.

Adventurers, by nature of their job, often saw terrible things and were desensitized to cruelty. But this was different.

No matter how hardened, even the roughest adventurers and mercenaries had limits. Some may have enjoyed pillaging, but they avoided monasteries, and wouldn’t harm babies or pregnant women. Those were the unspoken rules.

But this… this went far beyond any limit. If people did such things, then how could anyone tell the difference between a human and a demon?

“They are holy martyrs.”

Suddenly, someone spoke from beyond the pitch-black corridor. Everyone on site immediately turned their heads in that direction. A figure was standing there, wearing a tall, cone-shaped hood with only holes cut out for the eyes, staring this way.

“I can tell that’s some absolute bullshit.”

Ricardt said, grinding his teeth in fury. His eyes burned as if lasers might shoot out and pierce his opponent.

“Whether you understand or not, the resurrection is near.”

With that, the figure turned and began to disappear into the darkness.

“Kill that asshole!”

Volka shouted.

The crossbowmen were the first to react. They all fired their already-loaded crossbows in unison.

Thunk! Thud-thud! Thunk!

A few bolts lodged in the figure’s back, but shockingly, he walked away without a care. When the adventurers tried to chase him down, Ricardt stopped them.

“Don’t go!”

The adventurers looked back at him, as if asking why.

“The traps haven’t all been cleared yet. He might be luring us.”

Even in his rage, he remained ice-cold and calculating.

Volka couldn’t contain his anger and gave orders to the adventurers.

“Hey, bring the torches! Burn it all!”

“But the commander said not to set any fires.”

“Hey, fuck it, I’ll take responsibility. Just burn the whole damn place.”

Honestly, the adventurers had been wanting to do just that, so without hesitation, they poured oil into the human experimentation chamber and set it ablaze.

But what exactly had they been experimenting on? That wicked curiosity brushed through everyone’s chest.

However, as if cleansing those thoughts, the flames roared to life. The thick smoke had nowhere to escape, so it began to billow out into the corridor.

At that moment, cultists wielding bows and crossbows emerged from the shadows of the hallway. They quickly assumed prepared positions and opened fire in a coordinated volley.

Startled, Ricardt hugged the wall tightly and raised his shield to minimize his exposure.

“Everyone, stick to the walls!”

But some who couldn’t react in time were struck by arrows. Thankfully, casualties were few, but the dim surroundings and shaken minds sparked a sudden wave of fear.

“Aagh!”

“Fuck! I got hit!”

“Shields! Shields!”

“Bring a potion!”

The scene descended into chaos in an instant. Yet, even as they protected themselves as best they could, the adventurers didn’t run, they held their ground.

Still, fear began to seep in, stoked by the gruesome scene they’d witnessed and the situation they now faced.

Then, a desperate cry came from the direction Ricardt and the adventurers had entered.

“Captain! Captaiiin!”

Volka’s eyes went wide with an ominous premonition. Ricardt felt the same.

“What!”

“There’s an enemy outside! A Sword Master!”

Ricardt sprang into action without thinking, followed by Marie and Boribori.

But the enemy holy knights killed the adventurer who had raised the alarm and, seemingly never intending to fight, slammed the door shut. A massive stone gate dropped with a heavy thud.

Sunlight was cut off, and a suffocating darkness fell like a weight across their bodies. Though torches lit some of the area, only the immediate surroundings were dimly visible.

In that moment, everyone had the same thought: We're fucked.

But not Ricardt. Just as despair was about to crush everyone’s fighting spirit, Ricardt drew his sword and shouted with defiance.

“If the back’s blocked, we break through the front! Perfect! Let’s finish this!”

Without caring about traps or anything else, he charged alone at the enemies. They were still in the middle of reloading their arrows.

“Let’s finish this!”

Boribori and Marie shouted as they followed him, and the adventurers, who were just starting to feel fear creeping in, suddenly flipped their mental switch, reacting to the bravery before them.

“Let’s finish thiiiiiis!”

Thirty or so strong men roared together, and even the darkness seemed to recoil in fear. In that moment, no one felt afraid. One by one, they stormed after Ricardt.

The enemy, still loading their next volley, fumbled in panic. Arrows were fired, but unlike the first round, they couldn’t form a proper firing net, and the power behind them dropped significantly.

Leading the charge, Ricardt raised his shield and hurled himself at the enemy, smashing straight into them.

With a loud thud, he collided and tumbled with his foe, then sprang to his feet and swung his sword. It looked wild, but each strike was precise. Enemies fell one after another.

Kicking, headbutting, and slashing his sword down with full force, Ricardt split flesh and ribs from the shoulder all the way to the heart. By the time he kicked the body away and pulled out his blade, his allies arrived and swept through the enemies in a crashing wave.

Normally, in a chaotic melee, people couldn’t perform at their usual level, but Ricardt was the opposite.

Once the melee broke out, he went berserk like a fish in water. Compared to the hellhole that was the Eastern Expedition Territory in his past life, this was as comfortable as a bed.

The adventurers slaughtered the enemies in an instant. In the blink of an eye, the corridor became a sea of blood.

At this point, it was hard to tell who the real demons were. Ricardt knew. He knew how one became a demon in hell.

His lungs ached, but it was nothing. In his past life, he had cauterized wounds with red-hot blades while fighting, and had seen comrades who lost arms and legs still fighting with burning will until the end.

So he didn’t make a fuss over something as minor as having trouble breathing. What did death matter, anyway?

Ricardt unstrapped the shield riddled with arrows and threw it to the floor. Clang- it rang through the corridor, and his blood-soaked friends and adventurers all turned to look at him.

To their eyes, Ricardt was different now. He wasn’t the relaxed swordsman who showed off incredible genius. He was closer to a savage warrior. But perhaps, that was closer to his true self.

His eyes looked like they were on fire, and his mouth seemed ready to snarl like a beast at any moment.

Having stared into the horrifying abyss of humanity and been pushed to the edge, it was possible that something long asleep deep inside Ricardt had naturally surfaced.

Ricardt grabbed the edge of his cloak and wiped the blood from his sword with a quick swipe, then said,

“Let’s go.”

And with that, he walked into the pitch-black darkness that looked like the throat of a demon. His friends and the adventurers followed behind him.

As Ricardt said, if there was no way back, they just had to break through the front.

****

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