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Real combat situations were always the worst. There was never a day when things went smoothly. Someone always dies. Or they end up severely injured and permanently disabled.

Therefore, assuming the best-case scenario was an impossible concept. One must always prepare for the worst. The countless, unimaginable worst-case scenarios.

So, when faced with the worst situation, how should one respond?

This wasn’t something that could be learned through study. It was only possible through the experience of walking the line between life and death.

Ricardt had that kind of experience. Countless times. Thinking about that made him feel a bit calmer. Because he had been through dozens of situations far worse than the current one.

However, contrary to his mental calmness, his heart was beating so fast it felt like it might burst.

Even though one gets used to the fear of death, for some reason, his heart always raced when faced with the worst situation. Why was that?

It could be excitement, or it could be fear, or maybe it was both.

One of his friends was severely injured, the rest of his allies had fled, and the only ones left to fight were him and one other friend.

The more objectively Ricardt grasped the situation, the more his heart pounded as if it would burst.

Ricardt’s strengths were in one-on-one combat and ambushes. But now, the tables had turned, and they had been ambushed instead. It wasn’t even one-on-one; they were outnumbered significantly.

So, should he abandon the injured and flee? No. That wasn’t a condition to consider; it was a goal. A goal he absolutely had to uphold.

The answer was clear then. He had to defeat the enemy. To defeat them, he had to fight.

Ricardt peeked out from his hiding spot, just enough to observe the approaching enemies. There were roughly more than ten of them, while the rest seemed to be searching other areas.

Ricardt’s mind began to work like a machine, rapidly formulating, discarding, and modifying countless plans.

“Ricky…”

Volka called out. When Ricardt turned to look at him, his expression was incredibly conflicted.

We should flee. No, we should fight for our friend. But what if we die? No, we definitely will die. We need to run right now. Every second counts. Even now, even now… No, absolutely not…

All these inner conflicts were clearly written on his face. Ricardt firmly gripped Volka’s shoulder with a resolute gaze.

“Stay and protect Molty.”

“What?”

Then, without another word, Ricardt grabbed his bloodstained sword and dashed out. Volka was so shocked that it felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. There was no time to stop him or even say anything.

Volka knew Ricardt was exceptional for his age, but wasn’t this going too far? He’s going to get himself killed!

Ricardt held the root of the blade, the ricasso, and the hilt as he charged at the nearest enemy. The enemy, upon seeing Ricardt, quickly retreated.

“Over here!”

And he shouted loudly to draw the attention of his allies.

It takes two to tango, and with the enemy not engaging, Ricardt had no choice.

But this was all within his expectations. He changed direction and charged straight towards someone else. It was the one who appeared to be the leader of the enemies.

The most classic method of reversing a disadvantageous situation was to kill the enemy commander or leader. The problem was how to do it.

Ricardt boldly plunged into the middle of the enemy formation. To kill the enemy commander. Now, there was no turning back. The enemies began to surround Ricardt tightly. If he failed, only death awaited him.

“You little brat!”

The enemy commander gripped his sword with both hands and slashed quickly at Ricardt. The sharpness of the strike suggested he hadn’t won his position as commander by chance. However, Ricardt’s gaze was frighteningly cold and calm.

Ricardt’s sword, neither too fast nor too slow, struck back at the enemy’s attack.

Clang!

But an unexpected result unfolded. He had intended to break the enemy’s sword, but it didn’t break. Was it some kind of legendary sword?

No, it wasn’t that. Rather, bluish flames, like those of a spirit, flickered at the point of impact. It seemed this person had achieved some kind of mastery through mana training.

However, more than Ricardt being surprised, the enemy was even more shocked. He thought he could quickly take down the small-framed kid who had charged at him, but the unexpected counterattack left his wrist numb.

With his wrist throbbing, it was difficult to launch the next strike. Ricardt didn’t miss the opportunity and pressed his advantage.

Releasing his grip on the ricasso, he grasped the hilt with both hands, raised the sword above his head, and swung it upwards. It wasn’t a particularly fast attack.

But the opponent, whose wrist was still stinging, wanted to avoid clashing swords, so he took a small step back.

However, Ricardt’s previous attack wasn’t really an attack at all. It was a feint. This was where his genius shone brightly.

As if he had anticipated that his opponent would dodge, he took a large step forward. Even in an unexpected situation, he made an even bolder move. For the best result in the worst moment.

Ricardt’s arms crossed, and the large sword spun above his head. Using the centrifugal force and weight, he delivered a swift and heavy blow.

At this moment, Ricardt swung his sword with all his might toward a single point, at a single timing. His abs and legs firmly supported his body, and his chest muscles tensed. His arms merely guided the path, with his will concentrated at the tip of the sword.

The enemy, unable to dodge, was forced to raise his sword to block. Anticipating a heavy impact on his wrist again, he gritted his teeth to make sure he didn’t lose his grip.

How could this kid, wielding a sword so large that it didn’t even fit his build, handle it so skillfully?

But the heavy impact he expected didn’t come. Because his sword broke.

Cha-ang-!

Instead of a simple spark, blue flames scattered like falling petals. It was strangely beautiful, considering the situation.

Thwack!

And Ricardt’s sword continued on to strike the enemy’s neck directly. His head shot up slightly and then dropped to the ground. Blood spurted like a fountain from the severed area, and the decapitated man fell to his knees.

Ricardt kicked him in the chest. The finely sprayed blood splattered across his face and clothes.

Ricardt held his sword with one hand. Since it was large compared to his body, the tip of the sword touched the ground.

He glanced at the enemies on his left, then at those on his right. They all wore expressions of utter disbelief. What just happened…?

Everything from the first attack to this moment had occurred in an instant. Suddenly, a young boy had jumped out, charged at their leader, exchanged just a few blows, and now the situation had turned into this.

Breaking an enemy’s sword by deflecting their attack was a highly difficult technique, but it was relatively easier than what Ricardt had just done. Breaking the enemy’s sword by launching an attack first while they were defending was on a completely different level, almost close to divine skill.

But the enemies weren’t experienced enough to recognize that. They were simply overwhelmed by the shocking scene before them. Their leader, kneeling with his upper body leaning back, was headless. Blood gushed out continuously.

“Agh!”

“Eek!”

When Ricardt yelled as if he was about to charge at them, they flinched in fright and fled. With their leader beheaded, there was no one left to scold or punish them, so they ran away without hesitation.

Ricardt scanned the battlefield and looked around for his scabbard. Fortunately, it wasn’t far away.

Then, among the various corpses on the field, he found five bodies of students from Beringen Academy. There was no time to collect loot or recover their bodies. He could only close their wide-open eyes.

That’s when it happened.

“Cough. Kuh. Keuuk……”

There was someone still alive. But it was an enemy. One of his arms was mangled and dangling, and his abdomen had a deep, horizontal slash with his intestines spilling out.

In that condition, he could suffer for up to three days. The worst part would be being eaten alive by wild animals.

Ricardt approached him. The nameless enemy reached out with a trembling hand, looking up at Ricardt, as if asking to be saved or perhaps to be put out of his misery.

Ricardt sat beside him, covering the man’s eyes with his hand, and spoke.

“Just as you had no personal feelings, I have none either. Life is suffering, so I hope there is peace for you after death.”

Instead of questioning or resenting why the man had tried to kill him, Ricardt just spoke calmly. Then, with a swift motion, he plunged his dagger into the man’s throat, cutting through it to end his life quickly.

“Cough! Kuh! Keuuk!”

The enemy convulsed briefly, but Ricardt’s hand, covering his eyes, pressed down firmly. And soon the convulsions subsided.

In the end, Ricardt also closed the eyes of the other dead enemies, one by one. After all, they were already dead now…

Ricardt wiped the blood from his blade on the enemy’s corpse, sheathed it, and picked up a few abandoned swords lying on the ground before returning to Volka and Molty.

However, the expression on Volka’s face as he looked at Ricardt was even more extreme than that of the enemies. He stared at Ricardt with his mouth wide open, as if he were in shock.

“I was lucky.”

Ricardt said.

“……Lucky? That doesn’t seem like a matter of luck.”

Volka replied in disbelief. Ricardt simply ignored him and spoke plainly.

“We don’t have time. I’ll carry the bag, Volka, you carry Molty on your back.”

“Huh? Oh… but where are we going?”

“It’s probably safest to go to the rendezvous point for now.”

“Right…”

They had rested for a night halfway to get there, so given the current situation, returning to the academy would be more dangerous.

Molty was breathing shallowly, asleep. It was natural to feel drowsy after taking a potion, as the body rapidly healed its wounds.

Ricardt slung the bag over his shoulder while still seated, then stood up. With the weight of items for three people inside, it was almost as heavy as a person. He then slung his heavy sword over his neck and carried it forward.

Volka handed as much of his own burden as possible to Ricardt and then hoisted Molty onto his back. The two of them, burdened with weights almost too much to bear, began walking toward the rendezvous point.

Each step was exhausting, and after walking for several hours, they were drenched in sweat, as if it were raining.

One positive thing was that the physical exhaustion made all their anxieties and fears disappear. They were just tired. All they wanted was to sit down and rest.

Eventually, they caught up with the original group. Ice and his two friends, along with two female students and one male student.

Their eyes widened when they saw Ricardt and Volka. They survived? How?

Even Ice, who rarely showed any change in expression, seemed quite surprised, his eyes widening.

“You fucking bastards…”

Volka growled, glaring at them as if he was ready to kill. But Ricardt just brushed it off casually.

“Volka, leave it. Hey, someone, help out.”

A male student approached and took Molty from Volka’s back, and when Ice gestured to his companion, the companion came over and took Ricardt’s bag.

When Ricardt handed over the bag, his neck and shoulders felt relieved, and he almost wanted to collapse right there. But instead, he leaned against a nearby tree and resisted the urge to sit down.

At that moment, Volka suddenly lunged at Ice, roughly grabbing him by the collar.

“You fucking bastard. I knew it, you’re not even human. You know that? You piece of shit. How about quitting as an adventurer and using that pretty face of yours to become a gigolo? You piece of trash.”

Volka spat out insults furiously. He must have been really angry. Ice just looked at Volka calmly, even as his collar was being held.

Surprisingly, it was Ricardt who intervened.

“Don’t, Volka. It’s understandable. Who wants to die, after all? You were conflicted about it too, weren’t you?”

“Ricky!”

Volka shouted, as if in disbelief that Ricardt could say such a thing. But Ricardt simply shook his head quietly.

Honestly, Ricardt couldn’t say that he didn’t harbor any resentment towards Ice and the other students who had left first, but he knew that clashing emotionally with them now wouldn’t help the situation. That’s why he intervened to stop Volka.

Volka roughly released his grip on Ice’s collar. Ice staggered back a step but didn’t fall.

Surprisingly, Ice then spoke up.

“It wasn’t because I was afraid of dying. It was to complete the mission. That’s all.”

Is the commission really that important? Ricardt didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t have much to say about it.

“Sure, yeah, missions are important. That’s what problem solvers do. That’s what being an adventurer is about. Anyway, let’s move. We can rest once we get to the rendezvous point.”

It seemed that the role of leader was naturally falling to Ricardt. In this emergency, he was the only one still thinking clearly.

Ice, usually expressionless, seemed somewhat shaken, as evidenced by his attempt at an explanation. He wouldn’t have felt the need to offer that excuse if he were completely composed.

“By the way, who do you think those people who attacked us were? Do you have any idea?”

Ricardt asked, looking at Volka.

“Probably either the Brabant Guild or the Rubens Guild.”

Both guilds were major competitors of the Beringen Guild. In the end, what Arno had said was true: students were being dragged into guild wars and dying because of it.

But the situation this time was a bit different. They were ambushed while on a mission. Or more precisely, they were on their way to assist with a mission that other adventurers were handling. It wasn’t even their own mission.

“Let’s move,”

Ricardt said. In any case, securing safety was the top priority for now. After that, they could decide whether to continue or give up.

The nine students from Beringen Academy started moving towards the rendezvous point. Those who had broken or lost their weapons received swords that Ricardt had picked up.

What would they have done without Ricardt? By now, they all might have scattered and fled, abandoning the mission entirely.

They would have likely gotten lost in the forest, been captured by the enemy, eaten by beasts or monsters, or starved to death.

The students weren’t unaware of this reality. In fact, having experienced it firsthand, they understood it better than anyone else. They began to see Ricardt in a new light.

He had more than just fighting skills; he had the ability to navigate through hopeless situations.

His sense of responsibility in not abandoning his comrades, his accurate judgment in chaotic situations, his courage to take risks, his boldness in making critical decisions, and his cool-headedness in not reacting emotionally—all these qualities stood out.

Though they recognized how remarkable he was, they couldn’t help but think, “How can someone like this exist?” He was only eleven years old. Wasn’t this a bit extreme? Is this what it means to have the qualities of a hero?

In any case, the students found themselves gravitating towards Ricardt, whether they realized it or not. They felt ashamed of their earlier decision to flee. Even if they weren’t close to Ricardt, they began to feel certain that they could trust him.

The group finally neared Griffinswald and tried to find the guild’s hideout in the nearby forest. Since the area was unfamiliar, they wandered around quite a bit. It wasn’t like they could go into the village and ask where their hideout was.

As the sun began to set and anxiety crept in about whether they would find the hideout in time, they finally spotted a secluded cabin hidden among the trees. This was the Beringen Guild’s hideout in Griffinswald.

The students, relieved, approached the cabin, but their relief quickly turned to despair.

The adventurers who were supposed to lead them were sprawled out, dead, their bodies lying haphazardly around the cabin.

“Fuck this shit…”

Volka muttered.

Volka muttered. This time, Ricardt agreed, and so did the other students.

They hadn’t even managed to find the deserters they were after, and now it seemed they were all about to be wiped out by adventurers from competing guilds.