Translator: Willia

On a low mountain pass, there stood a large stone marker as tall as one’s shoulder. On its flat surface, the following phrase was roughly engraved:

Anyone passing this milestone must respectfully abide by the rules of the Viola Clan.

It read more like a warning than a mere notice. However, Ricardt, wearing a cloak and a sword at his waist, looked at the milestone with a smile.

“Ricky.”

Marie called from a little distance away. When he turned his head, he saw the group standing on the ridgeline, looking down the other side.

Ricardt, who was the last to arrive as he gazed fondly at the stone marker, walked toward them. When he reached the top of the pass, a pastoral scene, as if out of a dream, unfolded before his eyes.

A large lake, a village beside it, and from chimneys of houses here and there, appetizing white smoke was rising in curls.

There were herds of cattle leisurely grazing in the fields, and people catching fish or working in the fields.

It wasn’t a very large village, but it seemed to have everything. It was a place that naturally made one want to live there.

Whether the terrain was artificial or not, there was a hollowed-out land toward the lake, and within it stood a small castle.

It resembled more a mansion with a watchtower attached, like Stormhertz, rather than a full-fledged castle. This was the typical kind of castle one might see in the countryside.

“This is a safe place, so you can rest easy. Let’s go.”

Bremen, the guide, said.

He took the lead, and the group followed. Ricardt walked leisurely. He took in the lake, the fields, a lone tree, and the mountains one by one with his eyes.

As they walked the embankment road that cut across the lake and farmland, the farmers did not appear wary of the outsiders. Rather, they welcomed them with smiles. It was a curious place.

The migrants, however, could neither greet them back nor speak, only watching with shocked expressions. Could such a world really exist?

“That’s it over there. That’s the clan’s headquarters.”

Kaspar said. When they first met, he had sullenly remained silent, but now he had grown accustomed to Ricardt and the group, and even spoke up first.

“We’ll go find a spot to pitch our tents.”

Bremen said to Ricardt and Marie, who were connected to the Viola Clan. They also had business here, as they were going to introduce Blatter to the clan.

“Oh? But you can’t pitch tents here anymore.”

Kaspar said to Bremen.

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“Because so many outsiders came and pitched tents to live in, various problems arose. So now outsiders must either stay in a guesthouse or an inn. If not, they might get kicked out.”

Apparently, the rules had changed while Bremen hadn’t passed through this way. Since this was a self-governing territory, the clan’s rules were effectively law.

How a criminal was defined and punished depended on the decisions of the clan.

“Is the inn expensive? A guesthouse might be better, right?”

“The inn charges one silver coin per room. Bath water and meals are included. Maybe they offer a discount for long-term stays? I’m not sure.”

That was quite expensive. Decent inns in big cities charged about that much.

Looking again, it seemed they weren’t all that welcoming to outsiders. They were employing an indirect method to subtly pressure and drive them away.

It was an awkward situation. But at the same time, the clean and pastoral scenery and the farmers who smiled in welcome were possible because of those very rules.

The clan protected its people and filtered out outsiders on their behalf without any confrontation.

“How about staying just one night and then leaving? We can share a room.”

They weren’t completely broke. They had a bit of money. But that money had to be used as much as possible for buying food.

“I’ll try talking. Maybe we can get some goodwill. Don’t unload your luggage yet and just follow me for now.”

Ricardt said.

Ricardt had never withdrawn from the clan. He had simply left abruptly. That meant he was still one of the founding members of the clan, so the word goodwill didn’t really apply.

Just in case, he had said it that way, since he hadn’t been able to be part of the life his friends had built here. Because of that, he couldn’t simply insist on his own position.

To be honest, Ricardt was a little nervous too. Would they resent him for leaving without a word? Would they feel abandoned? Would they hate him...

Because the castle was located in a depression toward the lake, there was a gateway on the connecting land.

Near the gateway, people dressed in identical outfits roamed about, much like academy uniforms. But unlike the expensive Beringen Academy uniforms, they merely wore matching gambesons, cloaks, trousers, and shoes.

They looked young, ranging from teenagers to early twenties. Some wore swords at their waists, while others worked carrying goods without any weapons.

As Kaspar and Julia approached, the clan members seemed to recognize them. However, they didn’t come over to greet or speak to them.

“Are they not that close to each other?”

“These people are novices and apprentices. Many quit before becoming trainees, so they don’t get that close.”

Ricardt asked, and Kaspar replied. Kaspar and Julia held the status of trainees, and as direct disciples of a Sword Master, they generally kept a formal distance from others.

"You're back already? I heard the Guardian gave you a quest."

Unlike the others, a man in a black cloak approached Kaspar and Julia and asked. He wore a sword at his waist.

He looked older than Kaspar, yet he used polite speech.

"I think we've accomplished the quest, and we met teacher on the way."

“Teacher?”

“It’s Ricky nim. And this is Marie nim.”

When Kaspar introduced Ricardt and Marie, the young man in the black cloak turned to look at them.

“Who...?”

“What do you mean, who? Hey Huntz, don’t you even know the founders of the clan?”

Kaspar frowned and scolded. Among the younger ones, there were indeed some who didn’t know Ricardt.

“Not me.”

Marie corrected Kaspar’s statement. The founders of the clan were Volka, Bori, Delphi, and Ricardt. Marie had joined midway, a year later when she entered the academy.

In any case, Kaspar, who seemed younger than the swordsman, scolded him and asked.

“Is Master inside?”

The clan master was Volka. The title ‘Clan Master’ had taken on a slightly different meaning than before, now it referred to the head of the autonomous territory and the overall leader of the clan. Volka was the first to hold the title.

“Yes, he is.”

"What about our master?"

“He went to Adeloron. It's said a Codex was discovered.”

“What about the Codex?”

Ricardt interjected and asked. He didn’t have a good impression of the Codex.

“That, I’m not sure...”

“Our master sometimes goes out looking for Codices to burn or collect. I don’t really know why.”

Burning Codices? Perhaps because Bori had witnessed the serious side effects, it seemed he was trying to rid the world of them. And the safer ones were being collected separately.

Ricardt thought to himself, so Bori is doing that kind of work... and felt a complex emotion. Somehow, it felt like Bori must be lonely doing it all alone.

“Shall we go in first?”

Kaspar pointed to the already open gateway and said. As he took the lead, things moved swiftly. Even though some ragged-looking migrants followed along, nobody tried to stop them, though they were looked at curiously.

The path leading to the castle looked like a naturally formed bridge over the lake. Crossing it, they reached the castle.

The outer wall was barely more than a fence, hardly worthy of being called a castle wall. But thanks to that, it allowed for good lighting, and since the location itself was a natural fortress, there didn’t seem to be much need for tall walls.

Anyway, even after passing the castle gate, Ricardt was somewhat surprised at how clean the inside was.

The courtyard had no weeds and was neatly swept at all times. On both sides were the lodgings where the trainees stayed, and the inner keep, presumably where the real swordsmen of the clan stayed, was what they had seen from afar.

From somewhere, loud training shouts rang out. It seemed they were teaching basic stances.

Ricardt and Marie were, in a way, dazed as they looked around, both unfamiliar with and deeply moved by what their friends had built. Just then, a familiar voice rang out.

“Ricky?”

Ricardt, who had been looking around, turned his head toward the voice. It was Volka, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at Ricardt.

“My goodness, it really is you, Ricky?”

Volka looked like he was seeing someone he thought was dead.

He suddenly pulled Ricardt into a hug. And with a bit of exaggeration, he hugged him so hard it felt like bones might crack. Wordlessly. Despite the suffocating embrace, Ricardt felt a strange sense of relief. So you don’t hate me after all.

They stepped back and looked at each other. Then Volka’s lips slowly curled into a smile. He also pulled Marie in for a hug, and at last, his face bloomed into a wide, joyful smile.

“Hey, what’s going on with you two?”

“What do you mean? We heard news while traveling and decided to stop by.”

"What on earth have you been doing all this time?"

“Shepherding sheep.”

“Sheep? Did you raise some golden sheep or something?"

“Not quite.”

At the familiar tone, Ricardt burst into laughter.

“Anyway, Volka, you’ve accomplished something incredible.”

“It’s all thanks to you, really. Anyway, your mission was a success, right?”

“......”

What had happened during the Order’s Holy War wasn’t exactly a pleasant memory. Though Volka hadn’t directly witnessed Ricardt drawing his sword, he had seen the gruesome aftermath.

No matter how evil they had been, the sight of nearly hundreds of corpses strewn about was a terror that defied description. The blood had risen to ankle-deep levels.

In the stunned silence that followed, Bori, who had been on the scene, only reported that Ricardt and Marie had left.

So of course, Volka’s eyes widened at Ricardt’s sudden reappearance.

“Bori went looking for the Codex, right?”

“Yeah. That thing is kind of unsettling, isn't it? We don’t have to take care of it ourselves, but since we saw it…”

Everyone who witnessed the human experimentation facility during the subjugation mission had been traumatized.

It was an age when you could witness public beheadings in the square and, at times, even flaying as torture, but the human experimentation facility went far beyond even that.

“By the way, who are these people?”

Volka asked, glancing at Blatter and the migrants standing awkwardly behind Ricardt.

“We’re on our way to the Eastern Frontier. These are the people traveling with us. We passed through here and didn’t have a proper place to stay. Ah, this is Blatter, our academy sunbae. I was thinking maybe he could join the clan... I’ll vouch for him.”

Now that he was actually saying it, Ricardt felt a little embarrassed. As Blatter stepped up to introduce himself, Volka was as fiery as ever.

“Oh come on! Ricky, like I need your vouching! What do you take me for? If you came with him, you’re already family. And everyone else with him, welcome! Anyone traveling with Ricky is a guest of honor to me. I’ll arrange for rooms, so feel free to stay as long as you need. But wait, didn’t you guys have a quest? You’re already back?”

Volka asked as he looked at Kaspar and Julia.

“Ah, well, we dealt with the Ringvalt Sword Brotherhood, and we thought that should fulfill the quest Master gave us, ‘gain a reputation as swordsmen’.”

“The Ringvalt Sword Brotherhood? You two did that? Even I have a hard time dealing with them, and you did it with just the two of you?”

“Ah, well, we had help. From Teacher Ricky... quite a lot of help.”

“You met in the middle of the journey? Hmm, I see. Luck is a skill too. Anyway, I’m glad you’re safe. You should know your limits though. Think about why Bori gave you that quest in the first place.”

“I’m sorry. I truly learned my lesson this time.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear that. By the way, why are you going to the Eastern Frontier?”

“Well... Volka, can we talk somewhere inside?”

“Oh right, of course. What are we doing standing around? Kaspar, Julia, you two show them around a bit. Ricky, Marie, come with me.”

Volka waved his arm grandly, telling them to follow, and led the way. But he was limping slightly on one leg. Huh?

It seemed that while they had been away, there had been many difficulties and dangers in building all of this. Ricardt felt a sudden pang in his chest. Marie felt the same.

But still, Volka was bold and full of spirit. Seeing that, Ricardt felt as if tears were about to well up. Yet, he held them back with effort.

Once inside the inner keep, Volka suddenly shouted.

“Delphi! Delphi! Hey, wife!"

Then, from somewhere, Delphi shouted back.

“Hey! I told you not to yell inside! It echoes like crazy!”

“Can’t help it! Just come out already!”

“If I come out, you're dead!”

“Don’t care if I die, just come out!”

"This guy!"

Fuming, Delphi stormed out. And the moment she saw Ricardt and Marie, she froze on the spot.

“It’s been a while, Delphi.”

Ricardt greeted her with a soft smile.

Delphi stood dazed for a long moment, then suddenly ran forward and threw herself into his arms. She, Marie, and Ricardt hugged tightly, and unlike Volka, Delphi burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Though she had nothing to be sorry for, Delphi kept crying and saying sorry.

Moved by the emotion, Ricardt and Marie too began to cry. Even Volka’s eyes grew moist.

No one could explain exactly why. Perhaps in such a harsh world, just being alive and meeting again was enough to move them to tears. It was an era when the average lifespan wasn’t long. Especially for those who lived by the sword, even more so.

Passing clan members, not knowing what was happening, looked at them in confusion or quietly turned back the way they came.

The four of them cried as if grieving, for quite a while. It felt like there was something more than just emotion at play. Whatever it was, they couldn’t quite explain it, and only a deep, indescribable feeling stirred inside them.

Thinking back now, it was hard to believe how they had made it through those hardships. Knowing nothing, crashing into things, breaking apart, gritting their teeth and enduring, they had come all this way like that.

Even Ricardt had come close to death several times. The same was true for the others.

Aging wasn’t frightening. There were no regrets about the years gone by. Only a trace of longing, an inexplicable sense of loss, and a handful of relief soaked their hearts.

They were still only in their late teens or early twenties, but this brutal world had pushed them beyond their limits from a young age.

The tears they shed might have been gratitude for the times when they laughed without knowing anything, when they were united by trust, and for themselves and their friends who somehow survived up to now.

Even though their paths had diverged, friends were still friends. Eternal friendship. That was the Viola Clan.

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