Barbarian Quest

Chapter 138

The Blue Mist Tribe had subdued three of their neighboring tribes already. The subjugated tribes offered their children as slaves and sent tributes. It was a formidable presence. The news quickly spread across the plains and wastelands, and the surrounding tribes were wary of the Blue Mist Tribe's expansion.

“Woo-boo-boo-boo!”

The warriors of the Blue Mist Tribe beat their mouths, making sounds, and some blew horns from behind. The sharp sound of the horn trumpets reached the entrance of the Stone Axe Tribe.

“It's the Blue Mist!”

The Stone Axe Tribe also rang their bells several times to alert their village. The warriors armed themselves, and Chief Gizzle, wearing a lion-skin helmet, stepped forward.

“How many are they?”

“Seven, chief.”

“A delegation, then.”

Gizzle frowned.

The envoys of Blue Mist, despite being mere envoys, acted threateningly. They had blue war paint from their faces down to their upper bodies, made from dried reeds ground into powder and mixed with glue.

“We knew this was coming.”

The Stone Axe Tribe had anticipated the Blue Mist Tribe's contact. They had been preparing for war, stockpiling arrows and weapons.

The envoys of Blue Mist walked menacingly into the village, their steps exuding dominance.

“This is a fine village, Chief Gizzle.”

The envoy looked around the village and said. Gizzle brought the envoys into his tent and offered them warmed goat's milk.

“What brings the Blue Mist Tribe all the way here?”

The key figures of the Stone Axe Tribe entered the tent: the priest, the chief, influential warriors, and elders. Everyone present was influential in the chief's decisions.

The envoy of Blue Mist flashed his white eyes from his blue face, his yellow teeth fiercely bared.

“Chief Samikan of the Blue Mist Tribe wishes for peace with the Stone Axe Tribe.”

The envoy bowed his head as he spoke.

“We also would like peace with you.”

Gizzle's expression remained stern. If what they wanted was truly just peace, there would be no need to send envoys in such a threatening manner.

“Chief Gizzle, the Stone Axe Tribe has always been renowned for its bravery. When warriors of the Stone Axe Tribe moved in groups, tribes of the wasteland trembled and hurriedly hid in their tents.”

The envoy's words were not an exaggeration. The Stone Axe Tribe was aggressive. During droughts, their warriors would raid neighboring tribes to prevent their own from starving and endure the dry season.

“... Our Chief Samikan is concerned about the aggressiveness of the Stone Axe Tribe.”

The envoy looked at Gizzle, whose eyes narrowed.

“So your point is?”

“Send the boys who have yet to grow hair to the Blue Mist Tribe. Then there will be peace.”

As soon as the envoy spoke, shouts and curses erupted from all around. The warriors seemed ready to kill the envoy on the spot.

Gizzle calmed the warriors. He nodded after scanning the faces of his advisors.

Sending the young boys of his tribe as hostages and slaves to another tribe was akin to losing the future of their own tribe.

“Is that the proposal of Chief Samikan of Blue Mist?”

“It is the will of Blue Mist.”

The envoy bowed his head, waiting for an answer.

“There is not a single speck of dirt or blade of grass on this land that we will give to you.”

Gizzle declared. The warriors who were waiting for this exact response stomped their feet and cheered, hurling jeers at the envoy.

“Very well, there will be war, then.”

“You better run fast, fish-eating warrior.”

Gizzle warned, and the envoy bowed his head. They left the village on foot. No one laid hands on the envoys.

Creaaak.

After distancing themselves from the Stone Axe village, the envoy drew his bow. They shot arrows towards the entrance of the village.

Thuck.

The arrow landed near the village entrance, adorned with a fishbone. It was a warning of death.

"War!"

The warriors shouted as they ran throughout the village, their cries echoing in every direction.

"Oooooooh!"

The warriors halted their daily tasks and began to sharpen their weapons. At most, they had five nights before the start of the war.

"Chief, I'll gather all the warriors."

The warrior chief spoke. He was about ten years older than Gizzle.

"Leave out Urich. He'll just talk about crossing the mountains again and lower our morale."

Gizzle excluded Urich from the force. Although he was an excellent warrior, Gizzle didn't want to give him a chance to earn glory.

'I was going to use him as a force... but his influence has grown too much.'

Urich had blended into the tribe with much more ease than Gizzle expected, and that irked him. He would have left Urich alone if he had stayed quiet as if he was dead.

The warrior chief gestured to the other warriors, who dispersed to gather those not in the village. The Stone Axe Tribe was preparing to mobilize all its forces against the Blue Mist Tribe. In tribal wars, victory or defeat often hinged on a single battle. There was nowhere to hide now.

* * *

Urich lived in the forest with the old shaman. Time passed so quickly that it was hardly noticeable.

"Look, old lady, I caught not one, but two rabbits today."

Urich said, lifting the rabbits by their ears. It was a simple day-to-day life. The threat of the empire's invasion or the Blue Mist Tribe seemed irrelevant. This peace, away from the secular world, was enough to ease even Urich's anxiety.

‘Maybe the empire won't be able to cross the mountains.’

He was having such complacent thoughts. Urich had killed Regal Arten in the Sky Mountains. He thought that could very well cause the empire to abandon its conquest.

‘If the empire doesn't come, I'll probably be labeled a liar. Well, that wouldn’t be too bad, actually.’

Urich had openly proclaimed the existence of enemies beyond the mountains, but even the tribal warriors who followed him were skeptical of that.

Chirp, chirp.

The sound of insects chirping filled the air. Urich was confident he could survive alone as long as he needed to.

‘Am I planning to throw away everything and live in seclusion?’

Urich chuckled as he skinned the rabbits he caught.

"Put the meat in the pot there."

The shaman poked her head out of the tent, instructing him.

Urich placed the prepared meat into the pot. The shaman came out, unsteadily holding a basket of wild herbs.

"Don't put too much of that in, it makes the meat bitter."

Urich commented, looking at the herbs.

"What’s bitter is good for your body."

The shaman ignored Urich's comment and poured the entire basket into the pot. Urich frowned.

"There goes the good meat, damn old hag."

Urich watched the pot, emitting a strange aroma, with a serious expression.

The shaman's daily routine was simple. She wandered between the forest and the base of the Sky Mountains, gathering herbs. Occasionally, she would cast divinations using animal bones or read the sky's patterns, as befits a shaman.

"Urich, from what you tell me, Ulgaro is an ancestral god, and Lou is a spirit."

The shaman stirred the pot with a wooden spoon. The stew bubbled vigorously.

"The sun god is a spirit? Nah, that doesn’t sound right."

Urich waved his hand, dismissing the shaman. In the civilized world, the sun god's prestige was immense. It was hard to believe he was just a spirit.

"Every element in the world houses spirits, even this little pebble here. There's no exception for the sun."

The shaman lifted a small stone, explaining.

"Spirits..."

"And our souls, after we die, head toward the mountains."

The shaman raised her thin fingers, pointing toward the snow-capped peaks of the mountains.

“What happens next? Where do our souls go after crossing the mountains? Do we just wander as evil spirits or demons, as the people beyond the mountains say? Really?”

“Well, that, I don’t know either.”

The shaman answered, revealing her black teeth. Urich laughed emptily.

“...What are we supposed to do if even the shaman doesn’t know where we’re going to end up?”

“All we shamans can see is souls heading toward the mountains. Naturally, we assumed there would be a world for souls beyond them.”

The shaman handed Urich a joint mixed with traditional medicine according to ancient recipes. The combination of herbs was the shaman's most guarded secret, as the effects varied with the recipe.

"Warriors don't smoke that garbage."

Urich declined the shaman's herb. It was something smoked only when severely injured. Retired warriors often received it from the shaman when they had nothing to do.

I know exactly what happens when you get a taste for it.'

Lethargy and immersion in pleasure, with no ambition for anything.

"Didn’t you say you sometimes see evil spirits in the darkness?"

"Sometimes."

"If you smoke this, you'll see them more clearly. It’ll let you see things you can’t usually see."

Urich was momentarily tempted by the shaman’s words. He took the herb and put it in his pocket.

"I'll smoke it when I'm hurt."

Urich said, storing the herb away. The shaman shrugged and took out the rabbit meat from the pot.

"Eat up, old lady."

Urich tore off a rabbit leg and passed it to the shaman. She chewed the meat with the few teeth she had left, laughing.

"The one good thing about you coming back is that I eat meat more often. Keke."

"Was there no one to bring you meat while I was gone?"

"Everyone is concerned about their own hunger first."

"That’s true."

Urich nodded, taking a big bite out of the rabbit's body.

Urich and the shaman ate the meat and drank the broth in silence. Urich gathered the leftover rabbit bones and threw them into the nearby forest.

The shaman, high on the herb, mumbled to herself. Urich sat beside her, looking at the darkening sky.

Urich, watching the shaman already lost in her own world, murmured,

“... there’s nothing in this world that I fear, but if it’s true that our souls have nowhere to go, I think that might actually scare me a little.”

* * *

Vald limped through the forest, using his spear as a crutch, struggling to move forward.

"I have to let Urich know."

Vald's body was covered in cuts, and bloodstains still marred his clothes and skin.

"Damn bastards."

Curses slipped out as he exhaled deeply, his eyes furrowing in anger.

The Stone Axe Tribe, known for its aggression and strength, had long instilled fear in neighboring tribes. Eventually, even their rival tribes succumbed to them.

‘We really lost.’

Vald couldn’t believe it. Even after two days, the battle replayed vividly in his mind.

"Cowards."

The Stone Axe Tribe had been defeated by the Blue Mist Tribe. The village was trampled by warriors with stark blue battle paint. Boys, with their hair not grown yet, were taken as slaves, and women in their prime were taken as spoils.

‘Our future has been stolen.’

Young boys destined to become warriors, and women who would bear children were taken away. The Stone Axe Tribe would quickly decline without them. Even if they recovered, it would take decades.

‘The neighboring tribes will line up to raid us now that they know we've been defeated.’

Most of the Stone Axe warriors were wounded from the war. The weakened fighters couldn't defend their tribe against external invasions. The Stone Axe Tribe was on the brink of a complete wipeout.

‘Even in this situation, Gizzle tells us not to bring Urich! He's blinded by power.’

But the addition of just one warrior wasn’t going to change the situation, anyway. At least, that’s what everyone thought.

‘But if that one warrior is Urich...’

Vald went looking for Urich, holding onto a strange hope. Urich, a man who confidently succeeded in doing things that others said were impossible.

"Urichhh!!"

Vald shouted in the forest, his voice carried away by the leaves and the wind.

Shhh.

There was no response. Vald walked on, blood seeping from his wounded leg.

"Vald."

Urich emerged from the forest, armed with a bow. Seeing Vald's state, he understood everything without being told.

"We've..."

"I know. You lost the war against the Blue Mist."

Urich helped Vald, already aware of the rumors about the Blue Mist's impending attack.

"Yes, we lost. The children and women were taken."

Urich closed his eyes, grinding his teeth.

"Did they have more men than us?"

"About the same, maybe slightly more. But the difference in numbers wasn't what was important."

Vald said as he recalled the battle.

'The Stone Axe warriors defeated...'

Urich looked at the disheveled Vald, lost in thought.

The Stone Axe Tribe had long been dominant. Even if the Blue Mist had discovered iron-rich land, as rumored, it was hard to imagine the Stone Axe losing so easily.

"It was a new way of fighting, Urich," Vald muttered as if he was bewitched.

"What was it?"

"Some had long spears, others large shields. They moved as a group..."

Urich stopped abruptly, turning his head sharply.

"Tell me more. Don’t leave anything out."

Vald sat on a rock, drawing on the ground with a stick. He explained the Blue Mist Tribe's battle tactics to Urich.

'The Hedgehog Formation.'

Urich was certain. The Blue Mist Tribe's tactics were what he had seen in civilization.

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