The Warrior’s Ballad

Chapter 8

Translator: Willia 

Between the bare branches, new buds hung like dewdrops. Soon, they would sprout and bloom.

Someone once said that if a traveler don’t encounter rain or snow on a journey, they’re lucky.

That statement wasn’t entirely wrong, as there was nothing more threatening to one’s health and challenging as encountering rain on the road.

Only two days into his journey, Ricardt was fortunate enough not to have encountered any rain. However, he had to pass through a mountain path infested with bandits.

Though it was still cold in the mornings and evenings, sweat beaded on Ricardt’s temples as he climbed the mountain pass.

The cart pulled by the donkey constantly rattled constantly, and people had to push the wagon from behind at times.

It was as if they were announcing their presence to the bandits instead of passing quietly. The speed was so slow that if they encountered bandits, they couldn’t guarantee their lives unless they abandoned their belongings.

They were so tired that their heads drooped naturally from exhaustion, and the women had to carry bundles on their backs while holding babies in their arms.

At least the older children sat at the back of the rattling carts.

Despite the hardship, Ricardt didn’t bow his head and kept an eye on the surrounding terrain. After all, he needed to detect any dangers in advance.

Suddenly, a girl sitting at the back of the cart, whom he hadn’t noticed, thrust something at Ricardt. Upon closer look, it was a flower ring made of woven plant stems.

“Are you giving this to me?”

Ricardt asked. The girl nodded silently.

Ricardt, who hadn’t properly washed for two days and was somewhat dirty, looked at the girl with her disheveled hair and grime-covered face, nearly resembling a beggar.

Despite her appearance, her large eyes, with whites as clear as boiled eggs and emerald-like green irises, stood out vividly against her dirty face.

Boldly, the girl grabbed Ricardt’s hand and slipped the flower ring onto his finger.

“Now you and I are married, oppa.”

The girl said. Ricardt laughed in disbelief.

“We don’t even know each other’s names.”

“We can learn them now. What’s your name?”

Just as Ricardt was about to say his name, Arno, who was walking beside him, suddenly interrupted.

“Hey, you filthy girl. Do you even know who this person is to speak such nonsense?”

“It’s okay, Arno.”

“No, it’s not, young master. I may be a commoner, but you shouldn’t be too kind to commoners. They get arrogant and try to climb above their station. Do you think noble marriages are for the likes of you? Come to your senses, you bitch.”

At the mention of ‘noble,’ the people walking nearby looked at them with shocked faces. The girl shrank back at Arno’s scolding.

To the people, Ricardt, though somewhat dirty, seemed to be dressed neatly. Moreover, his teeth were straight, his face had no rough spots, and he lacked the typical creases and shadows of a hard-lived commoner.

Upon closer inspection, he indeed seemed like a nobleman’s son. But what was such a noble’s son doing here?

The people felt both curiosity and fear. Getting involved with a noble could mean losing their skins. The reactions were especially intense among those traveling with them.

Ricardt, having lived in the countryside, didn’t really know what commoners generally thought of nobles. The nobles he encountered in his previous life were either military commanders or enemies.

In Stormhertz, nobles and commoners lived together without much distinction.

However, the atmosphere of each noble and their territory varied greatly. There were all sorts of characters, from perverts to madmen.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

A woman carrying a baby urgently and roughly pulled the girl back. As a result, the girl nearly fell off the back of the cart.

Ricardt instinctively caught her.

“It’s alright. I’m not sure why Arno is so upset about this.”

When Ricardt used formal language, the woman looked bewildered. It seemed the lord in her hometown had ruled very harshly.

“I’m telling you, they’ll try to climb above their station…”

Arno grumbled discontentedly. Regardless, Ricardt spoke to the girl.

“Thank you for the ring.”

“……”

Unfortunately, the once bold girl couldn’t respond any further.

Whether it was because of Ricardt or Arno, the atmosphere of the procession became tense.

Soon, the cart in front couldn’t get over a stone again, causing the procession to stop.

The cart, loaded with goods transported by the merchant, was being pushed by common men for some reason. Two armed men stood idly by, simply watching.

Taking advantage of the delay, Arno and Ricardt paused to rest. Ricardt noticed people standing up on the mountain slope.

At first glance, they looked no different from the common people traveling with them. They didn’t bother to hide, just stood there blankly staring down at them.

“Those people, they’re bandits, right?”

“Huh?”

“Up there on the hillside.”

“Uh……”

At Ricardt’s words, Arno looked up at the slope. He saw a couple of people standing there, looking at them. Wait, not just a couple, but maybe four or five. Oh? Their numbers are increasing? Wait a minute, shit?

They were indeed bandits. Some were wearing gambesons that didn’t fit them or had helmets practically just perched on their heads without properly fastening the chin straps. They were clearly armed, anyone could see that.

“Oh no…”

Soon, others in the procession noticed the bandits on the slope. Initially, they weren’t scared, just seemed to be facing unfamiliar people.

However, one of the bandits on the slope casually picked up a bow, nocked an arrow, drew the string, and aimed at them.

“Uh, uh, uh?”

Whoosh. Thunk.

An arrow was shot and stuck into a nearby tree. Amazingly, that single arrow was enough to break the men’s spirit. No one was killed or injured, yet.

“Eek!”

Some sat down on the spot, others hid beside the cart, and some abandoned their families and ran back the way they came.

“Don’t go that way!”

Ricardt shouted at the fleeing people. Because if the bandits were openly showing themselves, it meant they had already cut off their escape route.

“Damn it!”

“Let’s just go!”

“What are you talking about! We can’t leave our goods!”

The merchant group in front wasn’t in a good state either. The two guards had drawn their swords but didn’t seem eager to fight to the death.

Meanwhile, some bandits from the slope started descending with spears.

Two of them approached one of the armed guards, who awkwardly backed away, swinging his sword wildly in the air in a futile attempt to intimidate them.

“S-Stay back! You fucking bastards!”

The two approaching bandits said nothing. They exchanged glances with each other and simultaneously thrust their spears from both sides. Despite their crude equipment, they were not amateurs.

The guard, unbelievably, neither blocked nor dodged, allowing a spear to pierce his stomach.

Clang.

“F-fuck…! You d-dogs…”

The sword fell weakly to the ground. All he could do was clutch the spear sticking out of his stomach and curse through gritted teeth.

One of the bandits quickly picked up the fallen sword and used it to stab the original owner in the neck, killing him.

Seeing the armed man they had relied on for protection die so easily, the remaining people panicked.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

A woman’s piercing scream rang out. From that moment, everyone ran in all directions. Faced with death, they abandoned their belongings, goods, and even their children.

The horses pulling the cart also panicked and started to rear, but they couldn’t run away due to being tied to the cart and the wheels being stuck. The scene quickly descended into chaos.

However, Ricardt stood still, watching the bandits’ actions, seemingly fearless or in shock.

Two men remained on the slope, looking down, and they seemed to be the commanders. The other bandits began to attack the people.

While seizing goods was profitable, the most valuable loot in these times was people. They could collect the goods later; for now, they targeted the women first.

At that moment, someone grabbed Ricardt’s arm. It was Arno. He ran, not forward or backward, but into an area without a clear path.

“Oppa!”

Just as they started to run, a young voice pierced Ricardt’s ears. The flower ring, still fresh, was on his finger.

Ricardt shook off Arno’s hand from his arm. Arno, surprised, looked back and shouted.

“My lord!”

The adults were all fleeing, and the girl was crouched beside the cart, clutching her head in fear. Ricardt quickly ran to her.

“Can you stand up?”

But the girl was too terrified, trembling, unable to answer or move.

Ricardt tried to ease her tension with a gentle smile and a joke.

“I’m Ricky. What’s your name? We should at least know each other’s names since we’re married, right?”

Despite her extreme fear, the girl looked at Ricardt as if mesmerized and barely managed to reply.

“…Daisy.”

“Is that a flower name?”

“Yes.”

Oddly, as her trembling subsided, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the boy’s face in her eyes and his voice in her ears.

At that moment, the two bandit leaders began descending the slope and walking towards them. They must have heard the girl’s voice.

These two had relatively better equipment compared to the other bandits. They wore several layers of leather armor that were tough enough to withstand most blades.

Perhaps because of this, they walked towards the back of the cart without any caution. Suddenly, a child burst out and collided with one of them.

The bandit reached out to grab the child, but the child quickly slipped away, dodging the grasp.

At that moment, the bandit felt a burning sensation in his lower abdomen. Looking down, he saw his intestines spilling out through the gaps in his armor.

“Huh…?”

He didn’t immediately understand what was happening to him.

By the time he realized the intestines on the ground were his, he felt a different kind of emptiness in his stomach, his legs gave way, and he collapsed.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

The other bandit, coming from behind, asked, bewildered by his companion’s sudden collapse after colliding with a child.

When he finally noticed that his comrade’s intestines were spilling out of his belly, his eyes widened. His comrade was frantically trying to scoop his intestines back into his stomach.

The sight was so shocking that he couldn’t look away. It was a fatal mistake.

Just as he was about to look up to see who had done this to his companion, this time Ricardt’s dagger slashed deeply through a gap in his armor, cutting the inside of his thigh.

“Aaaaargh!”

He fell, squeezing his eyes shut, not even knowing what had happened. Ridiculously, due to the pain and mental shock, he couldn’t even draw the sword at his waist, just flailing his arms in the air.

Meanwhile, Ricardt grabbed the hair of the bandit who was still trying to scoop his intestines back, pulled back, and slit his throat. The dagger was so sharp that it cut through the cartilage smoothly.

Ricardt pushed the bandit’s head forward without emotion. The bandit fell face-first into the ground, blood gushing from his neck, drowning in his own blood.

“Gurg. Kek. Grrrk……”

The one with the slashed thigh writhed on the ground, watching in horror as his comrade died.

As he tried to stand up, his severed thigh tendon made it impossible for his body to move properly. He repeatedly managed to rise a little, only to collapse back down.

Ricardt kicked him hard in the chest, then gripped the dagger in a reverse grip, raised it high above his head, and plunged it into the bandit’s eye, driving it in up to the hilt as he almost fell forward.

Thud!

As the blade pierced through the eye and reached the brain, the bandit flopped like a fish out of water.

Ricardt pulled the dagger out with force, wiped the blood and grease off on the bandit’s clothes, stood up, and surveyed his surroundings. Everyone had either fled or were in pursuit, leaving the area around him deserted.

Only Arno, who had sat down on the ground while fleeing, was staring at him with his mouth agape.

In Arno’s eyes, Ricardt appeared unnaturally calm. It wasn’t that he was pretending not to be afraid; it seemed as if something essential to being human was missing in him.

Or maybe he was possessed by an evil spirit, needing an exorcism. He certainly didn’t look like just a 10 year old boy.

Even more unbelievable was Ricardt’s composed demeanor as he rummaged through the bandit’s pockets and cut off a finger to take a gold ring.

The mountain breeze cooled his sweat, but Arno couldn’t feel any pleasant relief. Instead, a bone-chilling fear crept over him, sending shivers throughout his body.

Ricardt wiped a few drops of blood off his face with his sleeve. Then, smiling as usual, he spoke to Arno.

“I didn’t expect them to just walk up so foolishly. We got lucky.”

Before climbing the mountain path, Ricardt had said that one makes their own luck. Meeting bandits on the road might be considered unlucky, but perhaps being able to save the girl in time was fortunate.

Luck and misfortune, happiness and unhappiness, seemed to pass by like intersecting paths. Or perhaps they were like the two sides of a coin, always connected.

Ultimately, which path to take at that crossroads or which side of the coin to look at was up to the individual.

Therefore, there was no need to despair when faced with misfortune. It simply meant that a moment of choice had arrived, and the choice was theirs to make. Ricardt thought this way.

Perhaps that’s why, in his past life, his comrades had once given him that nickname.

Chapter 2 – Lucky Ricky. The End.

*****

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