Chapter 11

Chapter 11
The hulking leader’s remains rested among the slaughtered pack. Their once-shining silver coats were matted and stained a deep crimson, stripped of their luster.

The last surviving blade wolf failed to put up even a token defense.

*Puuk!*

—*Kying, kying! Keeeheee…*

Driving the steel into the base of its skull caused a fountain of gore to erupt from its throat. Almost immediately, the flow spiraled backward, pulled back into its own maw. Not a single drop touched the earth—the ‘Mosquito’ ravenously consumed every ounce of vitality.

*Tzuzhak!*

Kadim ground the brittle skull under his heel and wrenched the blade free.

A faint trail of vapor drifted from his shoulder. Finally, every laceration had vanished. Not merely the puncture wounds on his leg, but the lethal puncture left by the holy knight’s heavy spear as well.

The barbarian combatant had returned to his absolute prime.

“…Hoo.”

He steadied his breathing for a second, looking down at the edge that had tasted so much life.

Just as he thought, the ‘Vampiric’ trait was exceptionally practical. Its recovery rate far surpassed simple ‘natural healing.’ He no longer had to fear bleeding out from wounds before the battle reached its conclusion.

Still, that didn’t grant him license to be careless.

Because the weapon was of a lower tier, the ‘Vampiric’ efficiency was relatively poor. To transition from the brink of death to full health, he had been forced to butcher dozens of beasts. If he took more hits during the process, the cost would only rise…

The most glaring weakness was its uselessness against any enemy lacking blood.

‘…Regardless.’

It was a quality blade without question, and it had saved his life. That fact was undeniable.

Furthermore, ‘The One Who Sharpens Names’ wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Once enough time passed for the blessing to reset, and another dark night arrived, he could forge a new weapon with a different ‘unique trait.’

For the moment, this sufficed. Greed at the start of a journey only invited disaster. His first life had taught him the value of restraint.

He shoved the dried-out wolf carcass aside with a foot. Cleaning the gore from the metal, he secured ‘Mosquito’ back at his hip. After roughly shaking the dried blood from his hair, he leaned his weight against a tree to take a much-needed break.

*Basrak—*

The merchant who had been cowering in the thicket finally showed himself. Paralyzed by the raw aura of death, he had struggled to draw breath—his complexion remained as white as a sheet.

*Kkumeuleu.*

“…Hup.”

Duncan jumped back in terror as a wolf limb twitched. He wouldn’t even dare nudge the remains with his boot, opting instead to rush toward the man responsible for the carnage without a second glance.

“M-My lord…? What truly happened? T-That red glow earlier? A-Are you unharmed? I saw steam coming off your skin the whole time… H-Hey?”

He only then noticed that Kadim’s injuries were entirely gone. Duncan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“How… every wound is healed…”

To common people, magic and divine interventions were legends from far-off lands.

They understood that phenomena beyond logic existed somewhere in the world. But to someone like Duncan, those things felt unreachable. Without witnessing them, such concepts felt like hollow stories.

Yet now, he had seen a miracle with his own eyes. Clearly, right in front of him.

Decades of mundane logic and common sense crumbled, throwing him into a completely foreign reality.

…Though the person who had truly crossed over into a foreign world was the barbarian standing before him.

Kadim paid no mind to Duncan’s frantic questions. Preserving the man’s life was a sufficient kindness; he owed no explanations. Instead, he redirected the conversation toward his own curiosity.

“Why didn’t you flee, merchant?”

“P-Pardon?”

“If you had run while I was incapacitated, I could never have caught you.”

Ah.

Duncan let out a sharp breath, his jaw dropping. He had been so preoccupied with trying to help that the thought of escaping hadn’t even crossed his mind. Kadim gave a soft, almost imperceptible scoff.

In the end, it had worked out for the best. Had Duncan abandoned Kadim and fled, he would have undoubtedly become a meal for the wolves.

As they drew closer to the southern frontier, the breakdown in order was becoming obvious. In these lawless territories, survival required personal strength, a group for safety, or pure luck.

Having traveled this far, moving forward without the barbarian was no longer an option.

A thin fog drifted through the jagged canopy like shredded silk. The fading starlight retreated behind the pale colors brought by the rising sun. The long, iron-scented night concluded as dawn broke.

Kadim shut his eyes and spoke quietly.

“Stay alert, merchant. I’m exhausted and need to sleep.”

“……”

“If you consider running while I’m out, make sure you disappear to the corners of the world. If I find you this time, I’ll pull your entrails out through your backside and string a bow with them.”

“P-Pardon?”

It was a threat delivered with such deadpan delivery that its sincerity was impossible to tell.

Duncan could do nothing but sweat profusely and watch the sunrise with eyes wide with terror.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Duncan scanned back and forth between the parchment map and the horizon. His gaze shifted rapidly between the two.

“Hmm…”

After a long moment of calculation, he gave his assessment.

“It appears it will take about ten more days to reach the Free City Alliance, my lord. The southern region is dominated by Imperial land, so the border is further away than if we were in the central plains.”

Kadim raised an eyebrow.

“Will the crossing be smooth? I’d prefer not to encounter any more holy knights.”

“Y-Yes, it should be fine. That’s why we chose this path with minimal patrols, isn’t it? In the worst case, we might run into outlaws rather than knights, but they wouldn’t pose a threat to someone of your caliber…”

He had already seen the barbarian fight alone three times. Duncan’s confidence in his power was absolute. Unless a literal army of bandits appeared, no one could touch them.

“We need to get more supplies. Is there a place between here and the border?”

“Yes, my lord! There is a minor outpost called ‘Molden’ along the path. It’s so isolated that the Church’s reach doesn’t extend there.”

“Fine. Map out the path to stop there, then show me the way once we enter the Alliance.”

“Understood! The roads in the Alliance are better than those in the Empire. It’s smaller territory, but trade is the lifeblood there. If we take this shortcut, we can merge onto the ‘Golden Highway.’ From there, it’s a straight path to Vesta!”

The merchant proudly displayed the map.

Indeed, the prominent line of the ‘Golden Highway’ wound through the Alliance’s major hubs toward the eastern coast.

The problem was the ‘shortcut’ he pointed to. It was covered in terrain that looked treacherous even on paper.

‘This won’t be a simple trek. Still, it’s better than the past…’

Three centuries ago, the eastern continent was a mess of warring city-states, tiny kingdoms, and duchies. People were xenophobic; strangers were met with hostility. Especially giant barbarians who looked like walking trouble.

‘…Melissa treated me like a nuisance at the start, too.’

In truth, it wasn’t just eastern prejudice back then. Who would welcome a random barbarian asking to travel together? Especially a girl mage who had spent her whole life in libraries…

*‘Atalan of the wilderness, bronzed skin, immense height and the bulk of an ogre! (Hybrid monster? Is it possible? → See Research Project 31), abruptly demands we travel together upon meeting (Slave trafficking? Criminal associate? High probability of danger!! Extreme caution advised!!!)’*

That was what Melissa had written after their first meeting. The memory of that unnecessary note made the barbarian’s mouth twitch into a slight grin.

Regardless, it was a relief. The warring states had merged into the Free City Alliance, which was far more open to barbarians. Kadim adjusted his stride to match the merchant and moved on.

They hadn’t traveled much further before they came to a halt.

“……”

“……”

They both stared silently into the distance.

Until now, they had been fortunate enough to avoid conflict. They were near a settlement without having to draw a blade. About fifty meters away, a group of thugs was shouting threats while waving weapons. Kadim squinted at the scene.

It didn’t look like one cohesive unit. Looking closer, two people were being harassed by a group of seven.

The strange thing was that the two victims stood perfectly still despite the intimidation.

“Merchant, what do you make of that?”

“W-Well, my lord… they look like common bandits, but I can’t quite tell what they’re up to…”

Kadim focused his hearing. The phrase “Shut your mouth” drifted on the wind. It was some kind of dispute, but the specifics were lost.

Whatever the case, involvement usually meant trouble. Kadim turned to walk around them.

Suddenly, several of the bandits looked in their direction.

“…!”

“…He’s arrived!”

“For real…”

The seven men charged directly toward them as one.

*Tsk.* Kadim waved a hand dismissively. Duncan immediately took cover behind him. Kadim grasped his small axe in his left hand and gripped ‘Mosquito’ with his right.

However, the bandits didn’t stop at the sight of the intimidating warrior. They grinned and nodded at each other, then spun around right in front of him.

They acted as if they were greeting a long-lost comrade.

“Hey! Come over here, you cowards!”

“What were you barking earlier? Go on, say it again!”

“You said he wouldn’t show? Look! He’s right here!”

The two who had been harassed looked terrified. They looked at the savage barbarian, then at each other, exchanging worried glances.

Finally, they turned and sprinted away.

The seven bandits broke out into loud, arrogant laughter.

“Kuhahaha! Look at those rats run!”

“Yeah, go tell your pathetic leader! ‘Agon’s Furious Horn’ is on the scene!”

“Kekekeke! You’re all finished now!”

Kadim, however, was not laughing.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Kuhahak! Man, that was great. Those nobodies thought they were tough because they had numbers—how pathetic…”

“What are you doing?” he asked again.

“Ah, I knew you’d show up! Our leader is something else—who needs a whole army when you have his contacts? We could own this whole region…”

“One last time. What are you doing?”

Only then did one of the bandits actually focus and look back. He gave a casual nod and reached out to shake Kadim’s hand.

“Ah, my apologies! It’s an honor, uh… barbarian sir! Or should I say ‘Agon’s Furious Horn’? Sorry! I don’t know how you people do greetings!”

“I am not ‘Agon’s Furious Horn.’ And I’m not here to help you. I have a destination—move out of the way.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

The bandits looked at each other, clearly confused and unsettled. Realizing no reinforcements were coming, the massive barbarian suddenly looked much more dangerous.

Still, they had the advantage of numbers. In a street fight, numbers were everything. No matter how scary he looked, seven against one was a losing game. Being lawless thugs, they pushed their luck.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“……”

“Why show up and make things confusing? You useless trash…”

“……”

“Hm? Who’s that hiding behind you? A servant? Hey, don’t hide—come here. We won’t bite. Is there gold in that pack?”

“H-Hup…”

Duncan squeezed himself behind Kadim. A bandit tried to push past to get to the bag. Kadim gripped the man’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

The bandit glared and yelled.

“Listen, barbarian. You show up, mess with our rhythm, and now you’re being a prick? Because of you, we’re going to have to fight those guys without any actual backup.”

“……”

“Fine, I get it. You don’t want us touching your stuff? Fine… How about this? You look like a fighter—join us. Pretend to be ‘Agon’s Furious Horn’ in the next scrap.”

“……”

“It’s simple! They won’t know the difference. Just scream it while you’re hitting someone. ‘Raaar! I am Agon’s Furious Horn! The strongest barbarian! I haven’t changed my clothes in a year!'”

*Puhk! Puhat!*

*Kilkilkill…*

The rest of the gang started mocking him. Emboldened by his friends, the lead bandit puffed out his chest. He continued to insult the barbarian’s dignity.

“Payment? We won’t take the bag! Honestly, if you hadn’t appeared, things wouldn’t be this messy. Be a man and fix what you broke!”

“……”

“Wait, you aren’t a woman under all that muscle, are you? Sorry, sorry—my mistake. You’re the first barbarian I’ve seen. Hard to tell the males from the females…”

*Puhahaha, kuhak!*

*Kuhahaha! That’s hilarious!*

Kadim’s rigid expression finally softened. He realized that if he tolerated this disrespect, he would just be seen as a coward with large muscles. He felt foolish for even considering their presence a threat.

The leader, having lost all sense of danger, smugly slapped Kadim’s bicep.

“So, we’re partners now, barbarian? No, wait—partners don’t use ‘sir.’ What do they call you?”

Kadim gave him an answer.

“Kadim.”

*Thwack—!*

He buried his handaxe into the center of the bandit’s skull.

As the others stood frozen in horror, their faces twisting with shock, he finished his introduction.

“The Great Warrior of Atala.”

Would you like me to paraphrase the next chapter for you as well?