Chapter 163

Translator: Willia

To the natives of Adeloron, the Knight Order might as well have been people from the ends of the earth. Some even believed that the members of the Knight Order had once guarded the gates of hell.

That made the people of the Knight Order unfamiliar in one sense, frightening in another, and mysterious in yet another.

The ignorant and the learned alike saw Ricardt and the Knight Order however they wished to see them.

They had crossed the empire from one end to the other. It was a simple sentence, but actually accomplishing such a thing had been anything but simple.

It had taken reckless resolve, unwavering determination, and faith.

Because Ricardt had walked a road no one else had ever walked, he had dreamed a dream no one else had ever dared to dream, and in the end achieved what no one else had ever achieved.

Thus the greatest journey, the greatest achievement, was complete.

But this was not the end. It meant the beginning had finally arrived. The time had come to bring the Adeloron Civil War to an end once and for all.

Autumn was a good season for war.

"Have you been practicing?"

"Not that much. Oh, but I learned my letters. Bori taught me. I can read now, though writing is still a little difficult."

Ricardt asked, and Roy answered. The two were walking through a forest near Adelivari.

They had only been apart for about two months, so Roy had not changed much.

Still, perhaps because he had grown up under his parents' loving care despite their poverty, his teeth were straight, he was well nourished, and he was bigger than other boys his age.

Dressed in fine clothes, he looked like the young master of a noble household. With blond hair and blue eyes, he somehow resembled Ricardt, and depending on how one looked at him, he could even have passed for a Nord boy.

"By the way, how did you end up getting so friendly with the Nordmen?"

"I think they found it interesting that I carried an axe on my back. They said a man ought to be a sturdy woodsman, a relentless hunter, and a brave warrior. Apparently southerners are all scrawny because they're not woodsmen, hunters, or warriors. But they said I'm different."

To the Nordmen, anyone who lived south of them was a southerner. By their standards, even Ricardt was a southerner.

"Do you spar with your sister often?"

"We do, but I can't beat her with a sword. I think I could win if I used an axe, but an axe is a little too dangerous for sparring......"

"Then it can't be helped. You'll have to experience real combat. From now on, stay with me. Attend to me like a squire and assist me in battle."

"All right."

Following Ricardt onto the battlefield would be extremely dangerous, but Roy did not seem particularly frightened. He had already been through plenty of dangerous situations.

Looking at the boy, who had grown up surrounded by a loving family yet seemed strangely mature for his age, Ricardt was reminded of his own childhood.

For no particular reason, Ricardt vigorously ruffled Roy's hair, then grabbed his cheeks and tugged them back and forth as though playing with him. Roy simply stood there and let him.

"You adorable little brat."

"......Master."

"What?"

"No matter how much I think about it, I don't think I'll ever be as good as you."

"Who told you to imitate me? You only need to be yourself."

"What does being myself even mean?"

"Nothing's set in stone. You make yourself as you go. Don't lie to yourself, and live in a way that lets you stand tall before yourself. Just remember that. Everything else is secondary."

Those words might have been difficult for Roy to understand at his age. But Ricardt could hardly put all the experiences he had lived through and all the lessons he had learned into words, and trying to explain them might only distort what he meant.

So he kept it as simple as possible, as though planting only the most important lesson in Roy's mind.

Ricardt was not merely Roy's swordsmanship teacher. Nor did he want to be. He wanted Roy to learn something more, something far more important and fundamental.

"Commander, there's a man named Paolo here to see you."

Raimund approached as he spoke. For once, he had taken off his armor and was dressed in ordinary clothes, which made him look somewhat different. But now that he was cleanly washed, the scars on his face, neck, and the backs of his hands stood out all the more clearly.

"Who's that? Ah, Marie told me about him. Send him over."

At Ricardt's words, Roy started to step away. But Ricardt caught him by the shoulder.

"From now on, stay beside me at all times. Whatever I see and hear, you see and hear as well."

"Yes, Master."

There were guards stationed around the forest where Ricardt was walking. They were all knights of the Knight Order, so they did not stand out, but meeting their eyes even once was enough to send a chill through the chest.

Even so, the man called Paolo walked toward Ricardt without the slightest sign of nervousness.

"Greetings, Paolo. It's been a while. Have you given up your business in Tyujis?"

"No, Commander. Our trading company reaches all across the world. Different places simply require different people at different times. I have merely been assigned to Adeloron for now."

"Is there even any business to be had here? The land has been devastated, and it'll take a long time to recover."

"There are still plenty of people. I need labor. If I pay them wages and give them work, it will help them make a living for a while."

"What sort of work are you planning to offer?"

"You saw it in Tyujis, did you not? Whenever possible, our trading company produces its manufactured goods itself."

What Paolo was describing was essentially an industrial complex. Naturally, everything was still made by hand, but the trading company supplied the skilled craftsmen and capital while the locals provided the labor.

Ricardt had seen it with his own eyes in Tyujis. They produced high-quality goods, loaded them onto ships, and sold them all over the world.

"That's not all, is it? I heard you need my word. You want your safety guaranteed."

"That is correct."

"Hmm......"

Ricardt fell silent in thought.

Looking at Paolo's easy smile, Ricardt found himself thinking that the man was exceedingly shrewd. Precisely because he was hiding nothing.

Ricardt was usually quick to notice when someone tried to deceive him. He would then use that knowledge to seize the initiative and manipulate the other person however he pleased.

But there was none of that with Paolo. It was as though he had simply laid all his cards on the table and asked Ricardt what he thought.

"Roy, what do you think?"

"Me?"

"Yes. This man wants to spend his money building something like a village, have people work there, and pay them wages. In exchange, he wants me to protect him. What would you do?"

"......Isn't that a good thing?"

"Sometimes something that seems good at first can come back to hinder you later. The reverse can happen too. That's why you have to think carefully at times like this."

"But I don't really know. We'd have to predict what's going to happen in the future, right? How could anyone know unless they're a prophet?"

"That's true."

Ricardt thought quietly again for a moment, then simply asked Paolo outright.

"I asked you something once before. Whether you thought I'd win the war. What did you say back then, Paolo?"

"I said that a man should do everything within his power, and God would decide the outcome."

"But from the sound of your proposal now, you seem to think I'm going to win this war. Has something changed your mind?"

"It has."

"Because I'm good at fighting?"

"That is part of it, but I saw something more important."

"And what was that?"

"Commander, you did not waver. Even though you could have built a third power in Sinatria, you returned the army you had borrowed from King Santonio and left. Even after taking control of Basque's royal capital, when you could have seized the throne, you simply left. When the King of Cape offered you a dukedom, you refused it and left. In the end, you came to Adeloron. You rejected every one of those temptations and accomplished the goal you had set for yourself. Would that not be enough to inspire trust?"

"Hahaha......"

Ricardt laughed softly, then shook his head.

"You got one thing wrong."

"And what would that be?"

"None of those things were temptations. Not to me, at least. So there was never anything for me to waver over in the first place. In any case, I understand. If my actions have earned your trust, then what trust will you give me in return?"

"We will pursue our own profit. But doing so will not harm you, Commander. Nor will it harm the people who live here. On the contrary, it will benefit everyone. As you saw in Tyujis, even if each person acts selfishly, order can still be maintained and profit can still be created. If we ever cause harm instead, you may withdraw your guarantee of our safety."

Each person could act selfishly, yet each of them would still benefit. It was such an unfamiliar concept that Ricardt might have struggled to understand it if he had never visited Tyujis.

But one thing still bothered him.

"If that's how it works, won't everyone eventually become selfish?"

"They will. But would that not still be better than killing people with swords and spears and taking what belongs to them? Telling people not to fight does not make them stop fighting. We need another way."

It was an unusual perspective, one that deserved to be considered over a long period of time. Even so, Ricardt's misgivings had not been completely laid to rest.

"If people can act selfishly and still generate profit, does that mean profit can be created without end? The harvest in any given year is finite, and surely gold is as well. Then where does this endless profit come from?"

"I do not know that myself, but profit cannot be created without limit. When the time comes, a sacrifice will simply be offered. Just as mankind has done since ancient times."

"A sacrifice?"

"People will offer the sacrifice of their own accord. Then money will show mercy."

"Ridiculous. Money showing mercy."

Ricardt gave a dry laugh. He did not dislike money himself, but neither had he ever allowed himself to be bound by it. If anything, he had a tendency to look down on it.

"One day, money will kill every king in the world. It will even kill God."

"That's quite an interesting faith you have. I've met plenty of greedy merchants, but you're the first man I've seen worship a lump of yellow metal like a god, Paolo. Well, if your faith runs that deep, I suppose you'll do the job properly, whatever it is. Very well. In my name, I guarantee the safety of the Benicio Trading Company."

"Thank you, Commander. I suppose you would not appreciate an early congratulations on your coronation?"

"Paolo. Don't cross the line. Whether I wear a crown or not is for me to decide. Not you."

"My apologies. I overstepped. I shall take my leave."

Paolo bent his broad upper body in a bow, then withdrew.

Ricardt turned to Roy.

"See that? The world is full of all sorts. If you're not careful, men like that can sweep you along before you know it. You have to keep your wits about you."

"But what did he mean when he said money would kill God?"

"Probably that people will abandon God and put their faith in money instead."

"Could something like that really happen?"

"Even if we were extremely generous and said it could, wouldn't it take two thousand years?"

"If it takes that long, then it has nothing to do with us. That's a relief."

"What, Roy? Were you scared?"

"Wasn't it a little unsettling?"

"You're still a child. There's something else you should truly be afraid of."

"What?"

"Yourself."

"That doesn't sound very frightening when you say it, Master."

Ricardt roughly ruffled Roy's hair once again.

And Paolo's proposal certainly brought Ricardt considerable benefits. Everything else aside, an enormous amount of capital began flowing into Adeloron, particularly into the area where Ricardt was based.

With that money behind him, Ricardt advanced on the capital, Adelun. His forces consisted of six thousand troops from the Knight Order, five hundred Nord mercenaries, and roughly another five hundred mercenaries scraped together from wherever he could find them.

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