Barbarian Quest

Chapter 120: Hamel

Urich traveled with a fur trading caravan that traveled between the north and Hamel, the imperial capital.

"God, we really spent the winter in the north. I thought we were going to die."

"But we have to make our move in the winter to avoid the competition. Come spring, everyone will be scrambling for furs."

Fur trading has been immensely profitable in recent years. The merchants bought furs at absurdly low prices and sold them at a high margin in the empire. Good businessmen easily profited ten times over. Almost every merchant with decent resources had jumped into the fur trade.

"Fewer caravans move in winter, so it’s a bit easier for us to buy more fur during this time. Wait till spring, and you'll hardly find any left in the north."

Urich listened to the merchants’ chatter. The caravan, consisting of about thirty people, had wagons filled with furs.

"Hey, mister barbarian. Are you heading to the Imperial capital as well?"

"Yeah, to Hamel."

Urich replied on Kylios.

"You’re free to travel with us, but make sure you pay for your meals on time."

The weather was gradually warming. They had crossed the north's border, and the season was transitioning to spring. Heavy clothes were loosening.

'They have about ten guards.'

Urich noted, eyeing the caravan.

The caravan was well-armed as the merchants invested a large part of their profit in security. Long-distance trade was filled with risk, and the heated competition in the fur trade sometimes led to attacks even by rival merchants.

'This barbarian named Urich seems like he’s got some experience using his strength.'

That was the reason why the merchants welcomed Urich on their trip. More fighters meant better chances in a fight.

In the caravan, there were three investor merchants, with the rest being apprentices, porters, and guards.

"Did you hear? Apparently, the Porcana Kingdom has a new king. I heard it in a bar last night."

"Did the prince win the civil war?"

"What does it matter to us? Who cares who their new king is."

"I wish I were born noble or royalty."

News of Porcana had reached many by now.

The caravan was crossing the vague boundary between the north and the empire. Patches of green grass were beginning to peek out of the melting snow.

As the night fell, the caravan set up camp. Urich checked his weapons by the fire.

"Damn, the blade's dulled a lot."

His weapons were all made of steel, but even steel wasn’t immune to the usual wear and tear.

"That’s a fine weapon. It still has the luster of steel despite looking pretty old," a chainmail-clad guard said as he approached Urich.

Imperial forge-made weapons underwent unique heat treatments. Imperial steel was instantly recognizable next to ordinary weapons.

The guard recognized the unusually high quality of Urich's weapon but, being unfamiliar with Imperial steel, didn't realize its true nature. Even if he had seen one before, most wouldn't expect a barbarian to possess a weapon forged from it.

Schri—ing.

Urich took out a whetstone to sharpen the blade. For more serious repairs, he'd need a blacksmith.

'Weapons reflect a warrior's skill.'

The guard assumed that Urich was a formidable warrior. Befriending a skilled companion was never a bad thing.

"My name is Norman. I’m the senior of the guards here.

"Urich. Nice to meet you."

Urich extended a hand for a light shake. Norman sat beside him, admiring Urich's weapons. He too was a warrior, so it was only natural for him to swoon over a quality weapon.

"May I?"

"As long as you don't take it."

"Of course."

Norman laughed, examining Urich's sword.

'This is no ordinary sword. Is this what fine weaponry is like?'

Norman's eyes sparkled. Suddenly, greed surged inside him, but he managed to keep it together.

"This is truly a fine sword. Not sure if it's imperial steel since I’ve never seen one, but I would assume this is comparable to it," he said as he returned the sword to Urich.

"Eh? This is an Imperial steel sword."

"W-what, really?"

Norman looked up with a bitter look on his face.

"These are also made of Imperial steel," Urich said nonchalantly as he juggled his axe pair, catching them with a flourish.

"Stop playing with me. You must think those Imperial steel weapons are just common things..."

"It's true, you don’t have a lot of trust, do you?"

Urich grumbled, stowing his weapons. Norman looked skeptical.

‘Were those really made of imperial steel? Actually?'

Imperial steel weapons were so rare that even money wasn’t always enough to acquire one. They were sought after even by nobles for their collections. Only renowned knights and warriors typically wielded them.

‘A barbarian like him has Imperial steel weapons?'

Norman had never seen imperial steel, so he couldn't be sure.

'Real imperial steel?'

The thought troubled Norman even as he tried to fall asleep. He tossed and turned in his bedroll, eventually managing to fall asleep.

Early morning frost knocked on the campsite. People grudgingly opened stiff eyelids. Camping in the cold winter was harsh, with near-screams of stretching heard all around.

"I feel like my brain is freezing over, shit."

"Stop complaining and just rekindle that fire."

A laborer revived the extinguished campfire. Before departing, the caravan members shared a pot of stew, warming up with the hot broth. The little bit of warmth seemed to wake their minds a bit.

"Hey, what's that?"

Norman, slurping his stew, looked up. He frowned at a group of men approaching on the horizon.

"They’re not bandits, that’s for sure. They’re too well-equipped for that,” one sharp-eyed caravan member commented.

"Get your weapons ready just in case."

The caravan leader gestured, and the guards put on their fur-lined helmets and armed themselves.

"Damn, they're knights. See the noble crest?"

The merchants murmured, their expressions turning grim.

"Bandits would've been better.”

The group got close enough for them to see face-to-face. A young knight from the other group stepped forward and shouted.

"This is Count Frederick Hakin, the ruler of Hakin! Bow and show respect, merchants!"

The merchants grimaced. One of the worst possible case scenarios was unfolding.

"E-Ehem."

Count Hakin cleared his throat and straightened up, looking down at the merchants from atop his horse.

Count Frederick Hakin was a young noble. He had inherited his domain from his father after his death less than half a year ago.

The caravan leader kissed the Count's hand and greeted him. Count Hakin nodded, then made his demand.

"From here is my territory. As a toll, leave half of your wagon's contents and be on your way."

Out of nowhere, Count Hakin demanded half of the caravan's goods. The caravan leader bowed with his face contorted in frustration.

‘This noble brat’s lost his mind.'

The leader managed to compose himself and spoke up.

"As far as I know, this area lies between Yabhorn and Takarta, and I've paid tolls to both. I was under the impression that we aren't on your land, Count Hakin."

"No, you are indeed in my domain. The maps must be wrong. I'm exercising my rightful authority," Count Hakin stated firmly.

The leader looked at his group with a gloomy expression. The loss was seemingly going to be substantial, but they also couldn't afford a conflict with the nobility. He wasn't a powerful merchant with influential backing. No one would listen to his grievances.

"What's all this fuss about? It’s still early in the morning.”

Urich, with his sword in his hand, spoke up after observing the situation. Norman tried to stop him.

"Don't get involved, Urich. This is a matter for nobles. Our leader will handle it."

Norman judged that a barbarian angering a noble could lead to bloodshed.

"I'll pay the toll in gold coins, but please, not the wagon..."

The leader pleaded with Count Hakin.

"In my domain, merchants going in and out of the north through my lands pay half the toll with half of their goods. It's the law of my land, so how could I make an exception for you?"

Count Harkin spoke, feigning pity but with a smile on his face.

‘My, how could I be so clever?'

The leader's claims were correct. The caravan wasn’t actually in Count Hakin's domain. The Count patrolled beyond his borders, extorting traders by claiming they were inside his lands. Even if some were to claim any disputes against this, it was his words against theirs.

Count Hakin rode around the caravan, eyeing for more loot to plunder.

The merchants were simply unlucky. Not just bandits, but corrupt nobles were their enemies too. They sighed heavily, waiting for the Count's decision.

"Hmm?"

Count Hakin stopped, locking his eyes on Urich among the caravan. He was a barbarian who didn’t fit in with the rest of the caravan.

'Could it be...?'

What caught the Count's eye was Urich's drawn sword, gleaming sharply after being oiled and polished the previous day.

'Is that Imperial steel?'

Count Hakin was a noble with a keen interest in Imperial steel armaments. He approached Urich closely.

"You, sell that sword to me."

Count Hakin casually tossed a few gold coins toward Urich.

"Nah."

Urich didn't even glance at the coins. Count Hakin's eyebrows twitched as the atmosphere among the caravan turned from tense to icy.

'Dammit, this is a big problem. Something’s about to go down.'

Not only the caravan leader but also Norman was restless.

"What's the problem? I’m paying you."

Count Hakin called his knights, seven heavily armed men. Although outnumbered, their strength was more than enough to decimate the caravan.

"You think you can buy anything with money? Then, let me buy that arrogant tongue of yours. Stick it out."

Ting.

Urich flicked one of his coins, hitting Count Hakin's forehead. The Count touched his reddened forehead in disbelief.

"Y-you bastard...!!"

Count Hakin gripped his sword hilt in anger.

'I should probably run.'

Urich sighed and looked toward Kylios tied to a tree. He envisioned the situation in his head. If necessary, he could take the noble as a hostage and flee. Even with knights before him, Urich was composed.

"My Lord."

Suddenly, an elderly knight grabbed Count Hakin's hand. The Count looked at the knight, who was a loyal servant who had served his family for generations and also his swordsmanship instructor. Count Hakin couldn't easily dismiss him.

"What do you mean? Did you not see that I’ve just been insulted?"

"You should not mess with that barbarian. I think it's best we just leave."

The elderly knight whispered to Count Hakin, glancing at Urich.

"W-what are you saying? Just leave all these goods here?"

"That man is not an easy opponent. If he is in charge of this caravan, it's best we avoid conflict. We'll be at a loss."

The knight handed his lord over to another knight. Count Hakin frowned but followed his trusted knight’s advice.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Urich. Please forget today's incident."

The knight recognized Urich and spoke to him. He nodded lightly and led his lord away. They left without taking anything from the caravan upon recognizing Urich.

"If you don’t give me a good enough explanation, even you..."

Count Hakin watched the departing caravan and murmured. The knight sighed in relief.

"That man is Urich. He is famous for winning the Hamel Jousting Tournament and is rumored to have shattered a plate armor with his bare hands in a duel. A year ago, when I accompanied the late Count to Hamel, I saw him joking around closely with the current King of Porcana. Although a barbarian, he's not someone to mess with without a solid plan to silence those around him."

Count Hakin wasn't entirely convinced but nodded. Even from the explanation, he understood Urich was a tricky man to deal with.

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