Barbarian Quest

Chapter 119

Sven was fast asleep in an old wooden house. His face was serene and at peace.

Twitch.

It was a light sleep. Sven was walking on the border between dream and reality as his wrinkles twitched intermittently.

'Blood and iron.'

Like most northerners, Sven had lived his entire life as a warrior. He took what he needed by force and killed to survive. There was no need for guilt, as that was the way of life in the north. Whenever he returned to his village after killing and plundering, he was hailed as a true warrior by the villagers.

But did no one ever really feel guilty? Was there no one who questioned the life of repeated plunder and slaughter? Did no one desire peace and coexistence? Was there no warrior who, upon seeing a woman wailing with her child, remembered his own mother and wife? Were all northerners heartless murderers with no mercy or empathy for another?

The old man reflected on his past. Many northerners had converted to Solarism, drawn to its benevolence, likely tired of Ulgaro's teachings. Tired of a life that only involved fighting in life and even in the afterlife, they turned to the teachings of benevolence.

'It's peaceful.'

Sven turned in bed, pulling the flea and lice-infested fur blanket up to his chin. Warmth surged from his belly. Deep sleep, deeper than darkness, awaited him. It was a comfort he didn't want to leave.

Even with his eyes closed, Sven saw a light—a light as warm and brilliant as the sun. He wanted to rest his body in that light. The supreme comfort awaited him in a world of light without fighting or killing.

Thump.

Sven's body jolted. He shook as if he was pinned down by sleep paralysis, struggling to escape his dream. In a hazy consciousness, he groped for his axe beside the bed.

"Argh, ack!"

Taking a deep breath, he sat up, sweating profusely. He had escaped the light that was seducing him.

“Huff, huff.”

Sven clutched at his chest as he gasped for air. His breathing became rougher, and blood trickled from his mouth.

“Cough.”

He crawled out of the massive bed that once belonged to Yorcan the Giant.

'I can't go like this.'

It was a tempting sleep, one that he desperately wanted to surrender to. But his warrior spirit couldn't accept it.

Sven stumbled to his feet as he leaned against the wall. He staggered out of his room with only his axe in his hands.

“Urich.”

Sven entered the room next to his, waking Urich.

Urich lay entangled with a woman, naked. Startled by Sven's noise, he awoke.

"What are you doing up so early...," he started but stopped, seeing Sven's sweaty state.

"The day has come. It's time to keep your word," Sven said and left. A cold breeze from the open door slapped Urich's face.

"Dammit."

Urich ran his hands through his hair and murmured to himself. The woman who was sleeping beside him lifted her head and wrapped her arms around Urich.

“What’s wrong?”

“None of your business. Just go back to sleep.”

Urich roughly shoved the woman aside. He threw on his fur cloak and buckled his weapon belt around his waist.

“Phew.”

The dawn was still a ways away. Urich, standing in between day and night, looked up at the clear, star-filled northern sky. He walked as his eyes followed the Milky Way stretched along the night sky.

"Cough."

Sven stood coughing in a clearing among dense trees, his footprints marking the unmelted snow.

"You seem pretty lively. Isn't this a bit of an exaggeration?" Urich taunted.

"I just had a dream, Urich. It was warm like sunlight. A world of light was trying to take me away," Sven's fingers trembled.

"A world of light?" Urich tilted his head, puzzled.

"Perhaps it's because I've been in the civilized world for too long. Maybe the sun god Lou has settled in my heart... Yes, that must be it. Urich, if we see the gods, they see us too," Sven muttered.

Urich didn't understand Sven's words. He simply checked his weapons for any faults, choosing an axe with the sharpest blade.

‘I have to make it painless.’

For Urich, there was only one thing that mattered now, and it was alleviating Sven's pain.

"I belong to the Field. I have no right to anything else."

Sven lifted his axe. His grip was as firm as ever as if his fingers hadn’t been trembling just a second ago.

Click.

Urich also raised his axe, its blade shining sharply.

'Sven's axe is still more than capable of slashing my throat.’

Urich advanced calmly as he remained vigilant. A warrior seeking the Field of Swords would not die easily. Even desiring death, he would fight with all his might.

The ecstasy of reaching the Field injected strength into Sven's frail body. Forgetting the pain in his gasping chest, Sven lunged first.

"Wooooohh!"

Sven roared, swinging his axe wildly. It was a fierce strike that knew no fear of death. It was a blow that said, 'Even if I die, I will take you with me.'

Sven's axe aimed for Urich's neck. Urich ducked, narrowly escaping, with a few strands of his hair getting loose.

Thump!

Urich reached to quickly jab Sven in the solar plexus.

"Cough."

Already suffering from lung disease, Sven gasped as blood surged up his throat and nose with Urich’s strike.

"Dammit, who said you could lunge in like that? Just give me your neck, you idiot!"

Urich grumbled, readjusting his axe. Sven glared at Urich, spitting out blood.

Sven hadn't changed his way of life. He had many chances to choose a comfortable life, but he never did so. He never denied the path he had walked, facing his bloodstained life squarely. Sven despised those who tried to wash away the stains of their past like they were simply dirty laundry.

Spray!

Sven coughed and kicked the ground, covering Urich's face with snow and dirt. He used every tactic to win, employing all his combat skills.

"Uuuurichhh!!"

Sven clung to him, spitting his blood in Urich’s face.

"That is disgusting, you dog."

Urich wiped his face and leaped back as Sven's axe grazed his chest.

‘You shine, Urich.'

His opponent was a young, beautiful warrior, whose existence alone seemed to symbolize the future.

What path would Urich take? Sven wanted to watch the journey, but he had no time left. Like a moth to a flame, he lunged at Urich.

Urich retreated, spinning with momentum, swinging his axe wide.

Crack!

Sven's aged strength couldn't block Urich's powerful blow. The axe cut off Sven's hand in one swift move.

Thump!

Sven struck Urich's face with the stump of his severed wrist. Bone and flesh touched Urich's face.

"Oooooo! Ulgaro!!"

Sven, with his remaining hand, tried to strike Urich with his axe, but Urich's cunning combat skills shone. He quickly grabbed Sven's hand, crushing his fingers.

Crunch.

Sven fell backward in the middle of his attack stance. He tried to grasp his axe, but one hand had already been severed, and the other crushed.

"Ptui."

Urich spat on his palm and raised his axe high, ready to deliver the final blow to Sven's head.

Thump!

Sven struggled until the end. He kicked Urich's ankle and stumbled to his feet. Urich's shaky axe struck Sven's shoulder.

Splash!

Blood stained the clearing. The moon and Milky Way hid their faces. The long night was coming to an end, and the morning was dawning.

"Sigh."

Urich exhaled, looking at the bloodied Sven. Sven's bleeding was severe; he would die if left alone.

"I'm sorry I burdened you like this, Urich."

Sven tried to stand but collapsed to his knees, his strength empty. His consciousness flickered like a dying candle. His eyes kept closing.

"Don't mention it." Urich nodded, straightening his posture.

"Urich, I see Ulgaro. He's waiting for me in that forest right over there." Sven bowed his head slightly, exposing his nape.

Urich hastily looked in the direction Sven mentioned. Only shadows fleeing from the rising sun were visible. Urich blinked and laughed softly.

"You’re right, I see him too. He’s here to take a great warrior."

Hearing Urich, Sven shrugged his shoulders.

"Cough, cough. You kind liar."

Urich blushed, scratching his head. He sighed and swung his axe.

Thanks to Urich’s flawless technique, not a single groan came out of Sven. The world spun, and Sven saw his headless body. His lonely head blinked twice.

Urich placed Sven's head upright on the snow. He sat down beside it, putting away his axe.

"How's the view there?"

Urich asked, watching the sunrise. Sven's eyes were empty.

Urich scooped up some snow, cleaning his hands. He then gently closed Sven's eyelids with his clean hands.

* * *

Though they had come as two, only one was leaving.

Urich gazed at the snowy landscape as he stroked Kylios. Despite the sunrise, the snow showed no signs of melting.

"Fighting the Imperial army is madness."

"The priests said there would be glory, they didn’t say anything about winning."

As the Imperial army approached, people began leaving Mulin. Most were criminals or exiles who were staying in Mulin out of necessity. They eyed Urich's bag and horse but couldn’t dare to attack him.

'He killed Yorcan the Giant and even has Ulgaro's blessing.'

Yet some, hoping for any gain, still followed Urich.

"Look, the Imperial army."

Urich squinted from a ridge, spotting the distant army. It was a force of thousands. The Imperial army seemed determined to wipe out the entirety of Mulin with this war.

"T-the Imperial army!" The northern men following Urich panicked and fled. Urich alone faced the army on horseback.

"Hey! You should run too, mister!" One of the fleeing men looked back at Urich. But Urich shook his head and approached the Imperial army.

"Stop!"

Mounted scouts approached through the snow with their crossbows aimed at Urich.

"My name is Urich. Tell them that,” Urich said nonchalantly and waited for the reaction.

A knight who recognized Urich emerged from the camp. He confirmed Urich's identity and dismissed the scouts.

"This man saved the life of the viceroy! Do not disrespect him!" The knight declared, and the soldiers with crossbows retreated.

"Sir Urich, it's been a while. The viceroy regretted not being able to properly thank you last time. After this battle, we plan to hold a grand banquet. It would be great if you could grace the event."

"Planning a feast before the battle’s even started? That's some confidence."

Urich laughed, looking at the Imperial camp. The confidence seemed more deserved than arrogant.

"Dying gods can't lead their warriors to victory, Sir Urich. Mulin, just like its name, will become the literal graveyard for Ulgaro and his warriors."

The knight spoke with shining eyes. Urich didn't respond. Taking the silence as a refusal, the knight nodded and turned away.

Doong, doong, doong.

It was the sound of the Imperial drums. The army resumed their advance. Urich watched them pass, then took hold of Kylios’ reins.

"Kylios."

Urich stroked Kylios’ mane, stiff with frost. Kylios shook his head as if he was complaining.

"Yeah, sorry. I hate the cold too."

Urich exhaled, pulling his scarf up to his nose. After looking around his surroundings, he headed south.

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