Surviving as a Barbarian in a Fantasy World

Chapter 277: To the North (5)

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 277: To the North (5)

Darkul and Ketal drank through the night, talking with complete honesty.

Darkul vented all the frustrations that had piled up over time, and Ketal listened with empathy.

Surprisingly, Ketal found the experience more enjoyable than expected.

Darkul, like Ketal, had lived among the barbarians and experienced their ignorance firsthand.

Though different in some ways, they shared a similar temperament.

It was deeply satisfying to share grievances about those fools with someone who understood.

The two of them continued to talk, mocking the barbarians, until the sun rose.

By early morning, Darkul had finished preparing to leave.

"Alright, Ketal, let's go."

There was warmth in Darkul's eyes as he looked at Ketal, filled with camaraderie.

Having suffered through the barbarian lifestyle together, a strong bond of friendship had formed between them.

Once they were ready, they left the village, only for the barbarians to wail.

"Don't go!"

"My master! Please don't leave!"

The barbarians genuinely believed Darkul to be their master.

They tried to follow him, but it was impossible due to the fact that many had broken bones from their training.

As Darkul left the village, he raised his middle finger.

"Hahaha! Farewell, you pathetic fools! Let's never see each other again!"

It was a strange scene where the ones leaving shouted never to meet again, while those left behind cried out for them to stay.

The barbarians, sprawled on the ground, called out with all their strength:

"One day, we will come for you and defeat you! Wait for us!"

"If you can, then come!"

Darkul shouted loudly, turning away with a grin.

He walked off with a light step.

"Ah, how refreshing! I'm so happy! I should have done this ages ago!"

"That's great, but... was it really okay to say something like that at the end?" ‘

Ketal asked.

Darkul had told them, "If you can, come."

In a way, he had given them permission.

"There's no way they can come,"

Darkul said nonchalantly.

"The Sanctuary of Swords is really far from here. Do you think those ignorant fools could cross the continent and reach it? Absolutely impossible."

Darkul spoke with confidence, but Ketal had a doubtful expression.

"...Do you really think so?"

In Ketal's experience, barbarians were not the type to give up easily.

Not a metaphor—barbarians really would follow you until death.

That was why, when Ketal had to leave them behind, he made sure to crush them first utterly.

"Hmm."

Even if a problem did arise, it would be Darkul’s to deal with, Ketal thought, clearing his mind.

"Have you ever met the King of the Barbarians?"

Ketal asked as they walked.

Darkul shook his head.

"I don't know. I've never seen him, but I've heard stories."

"What kind of person is he?"

Ketal was curious about the man leading the mindless barbarians.

Having once been their chief himself, Ketal wondered how such a leader would manage.

"They say he's someone like you,"

Darkul replied.

"Like me?"

"Yeah, someone rational and easy to communicate with. They say he's more of a scholar than a barbarian."

It wasn't unheard of for a barbarian like that to exist.

Maybe one in a thousand could actually hold a normal conversation.

But most of them were rejected by their own society, unable to adapt to the barbarian way of life, and eventually fled.

But the King of the Barbarians was different.

He had power.

A tremendous power.

The kind of power that could unify the entire North.

"He's a mighty hero-class warrior. Before he became king, the North was even more of a mess."

The barbarians, uncontrolled, did whatever they pleased, raiding passing merchant caravans, slaughtering them, and stealing their goods.

They would even raid nearby territories for food.

The barbarian tribes were nearly at war with the continent.

But when the King of the Barbarians emerged, everything changed.

With his overwhelming strength, he set boundaries and established rules for the barbarians.

Of course, most barbarians didn't follow others’ words, but the king crushed all resistance with sheer force.

Following the survival of the fittest, the barbarians followed the king's commands, even if only slightly.

As a result, the chaos caused by the barbarians diminished somewhat.

"Though it's still a mess, it's better than it used to be."

"Hmm, I see,"

Ketal said with interest.

He found it quite fascinating.

In a way, the king was similar to him.

Ketal, too, had once tried to socialize the brutish barbarians by using his strength to force compliance.

Even though he had never met the king, a sense of kinship welled up in him.

"I’d like to meet him one day."

"You'll probably see him in about a month. Anyway, it's time to stay alert. We should always be ready for combat."

"Combat? Why?"

Ketal looked puzzled.

Was there going to be a barbarian attack?

It didn’t take long before he found out why.

[Uaaargh!]

[Kyaaargh!]

As they were walking, monsters suddenly rushed at them.

It was a group of orcs.

"They're here,"

Darkul grimaced, gripping his sword.

Divine energy began to infuse his blade.

He swung his sword ferociously, sending a wave of holy energy toward the orcs, who fell with screams.

"Monsters on the road?"

Ketal muttered in annoyance.

"Why?"

"Do you know how dungeons work?"

Darkul asked.

"Yes."

Dungeons naturally formed near populated areas, and if they weren't cleared within a certain period, the monsters inside would spill out.

That was why mercenaries regularly clear dungeons near villages or cities.

Ketal understood, and nodded as things became clearer.

"Are they deliberately leaving dungeons unchecked?"

"Exactly. The logic being that if there’s no danger on the journey, it’s not a real adventure. The king tried to have the dungeons dealt with, but there was too much opposition, so he gave up."

Darkul clicked his tongue.

"Absolute lunatics. One in ten people get killed by monsters while traveling, yet they refuse to take any precautions."

And now, Ketal and Darkul were paying the price for that negligence.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Who knows how many dungeons had been left alone, because monsters were pouring out every hour, disrupting their journey.

It was getting to be too much.

Ketal clicked his tongue in frustration.

'This is getting annoying.'

Even though it was the North, this was still a fantasy world—he had wanted to enjoy his travels.

But with monsters appearing so frequently, it was becoming tedious.

Worse yet, all these monsters were ones he had fought before, so it wasn't even exciting.

Ketal began to consider whether it might be worth just speeding up and getting to their destination.

Perhaps mistaking Ketal's irritation for concern about the monsters, Darkul reassured him.

"Don't worry too much. You'll start seeing it soon enough."

"Seeing what?"

"No matter how ignorant the barbarians are, they're not so foolish as to go through this monster field alone. We just need to hold out until then."

* * *

And just as Darkul said, it wasn't long before a large group appeared.

Dozens of people gathered closely together.

As they approached, one of the barbarians asked,

"Who are you?"

"We're travelers from the north, heading to meet the king."

"Hmm! Our destination is the same! Welcome!"

There was no need for any confirmation of identity.

With just three exchanges of dialogue, they joined the barbarian group.

Ketal murmured, as if understanding,

"A group headed for the same destination, huh."

"That's how it is in the north. If you're heading the same way, you just join forces. No need to struggle alone. We just follow them. These guys like to show off their strength, so they'll handle any monsters that show up."

They joined the barbarians and continued toward the king.

Among them, Ketal blended in without much difficulty.

Though he was a bit larger than the average barbarian, it wasn't to an extreme degree.

The barbarians only glanced at him briefly without showing much interest.

This stirred an odd feeling within Ketal.

He stared at the barbarians in silence.

[You have a strange look on your face. Like a rich man eating poor porridge he hasn't tasted in years.]

"And where did you pick up that comparison?"

[I learned it from one of the fairy tales I was given knowledge of. I used to pass the time daydreaming.]

"Well... it has been a long time."

In the white snowy fields, he marched alongside the barbarians.

Time on this world moved so swiftly it was barely a moment in comparison to the near-eternal time he had spent.

No matter how much he tried to forget, it was impossible.

Whether he hated it or missed it, there was a deep sense of love and hate entwined in his heart.

'Not that I'd ever think of going back, though.'

Ketal calmly joined the group of barbarians.

They moved forward.

Though monsters occasionally appeared, they were swiftly torn apart by the sheer force of numbers.

The barbarians, eager to prove themselves in battle, rushed ahead at the sight of monsters, leaving no issue for the others.

And that night.

They found a suitable spot and began preparing to sleep, snacking lightly on jerky.

But soon, a commotion broke out.

"Woaaaah!"

"Fight! Fight!"

The barbarians were circling around, continuously shouting.

Darkul explained,

"Barbarians always want to prove that they're the strongest."

"A duel, then. To decide the leader of the group?"

"The strongest has the right to lead the group. No need to worry. It won't affect us as long as we have the same destination. Or do you want to join in?"

Darkul asked Ketal.

"I feel like you could win easily."

Darkul assessed Ketal's strength as first-rate.

He was the strongest among the barbarians here.

If he wanted, Ketal could become the leader of the group.

Ketal shook his head.

"Not interested."

He'd had more than enough of that in the past.

He had no desire to continue it now that he was outside.

Darkul looked surprised at his response.

‘He's definitely an odd one.’

While Ketal was clearly different from an average barbarian, Darkul hadn't expected him to lack interest in proving his strength.

The more he observed Ketal, the more favorable his impression became.

The barbarians' fight was too loud to sleep through, so they ended up watching the fight absentmindedly.

Ketal muttered,

"His axe broke."

"Looks like the opponent is stronger."

"His arm is broken."

"That's the price of refusing to admit defeat and charging in."

"He's vomiting blood."

"His internal organs must be damaged. He'll need to rest for a while. These brutes."

Darkul clicked his tongue in disdain at the barbarians' ignorance.

But Ketal felt something different.

That was a duel.

A struggle to prove one's strength.

Yet, they weren't trying to kill each other.

They were holding back.

Which made perfect sense.

They wanted to lead the group, not kill its members.

Even these brutes had enough sense for that.

'Hmm...'

But this left Ketal feeling oddly dissatisfied.

'If it's truly a duel...'

Shouldn't they be fighting with the intent to kill?

Shouldn't they be severing limbs, crushing skulls, demonstrating overwhelming power and forcing their opponents to submit?

Ending it with a broken weapon and a few fractured bones?

That seemed more like a training exercise for children than a real duel.

'The kids in my tribe would've scoffed at this, calling it a pathetic excuse for a duel.'

Ketal clicked his tongue.

Though he didn't realize it himself, his gaze held the same feelings an old man might have when looking at the younger generation.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]