Barbarian Quest

Chapter 192

Urich and Georg entered the mansion's garden. It seemed that the garden had not been touched by the plundering, as there were no signs of destruction.

Georg looked at the garden with a distant gaze while Urich looked at it with a frown.

"This garden is a mess. Did your old master always keep it like this?"

The grass and trees in the garden were growing rather freely. They had grown without proper care and looked unpleasant. Even to Urich, it just looked like the garden of a mansion that only had ghosts living in it.

"No, he was usually quite meticulous," Georg answered as he broke off a branch.

"Then he must have left the mansion long ago, no?"

There was no sign of anyone in the mansion. It appeared to have more than ten rooms, but no one was seen moving behind the windows. Some windows were even left open, clicking as they moved in the wind.

Swoosh.

Urich drew his axe and entered through the mansion doors first.

"Hey, anyone home?"

Urich called out as he tapped the walls with his axe. The inside of the mansion was silent. A layer of dusty grime covered the furniture. Despite the sun going down, there wasn’t a single servant around to light the lamps.

Thump, thump.

Georg walked ahead in a direction, opening every door he came across. He was searching for someone.

"Asilmate..."

The air felt thick and suffocating. Even though he had arrived at the mansion, he couldn't sense her scent.

‘Why do you think I held on in that hellish place?'

He had struggled desperately just to come back here. He had even participated in battles, which was very unfamiliar to him, and went to the brink of death and survived several times.

"Where are you, Asilmate?"

Finally, Georg opened the door to a bedroom.

Creeeak.

The sound of the door opening was eerie.

In the bedroom, which he thought would be empty, sat an old man. His beard was unkempt, but he was dressed in luxurious clothes.

"Ah..."

Georg and the old man's eyes met. The old man's eyes were half dead. He weakly pointed at Georg with his thin arm.

"Georg, you're too late. Asilmate is already dead," the old man said with a faint smile as he looked at Georg.

Georg's face twisted in agony. He rushed at the old man.

"You son of a biiiiitch!"

Crash!

Georg knocked the old man down and started punching him. The frail old man couldn't even resist properly and was beaten helplessly.

"You should have protected Asilmate! You bastard! Despite what happened, she was still your wife! You should have protected her to the end!"

Georg raged as he vented his frustration.

Urich, who followed late, just watched the scene. He did not intervene. Instead, he watched Georg's actions with sparkling eyes.

"Kek, kekekek. Keugh."

The old man spat blood on the floor and laughed. He weakly raised his hand to hold Georg's face.

"Georg, you ungrateful slave dog. You're the one who killed Asilmate. Shortly after you left as a slave soldier, Asilmate hanged herself in despair! Didn't you know your vile affair would only lead to disaster? Rumors spread of her disgraceful entanglement with a low, lowly slave, and unable to bear the shame, Asilmate took her own life! All because of you, because you had to tempt an innocent noble girl!"

"No! Asilmate loved me! She was proud of me!"

"What can’t one say when they’re intoxicated in love…? Spewing this and that, intoxicated by an illusion and pleasure called love is the privilege of the youth. Asilmate was left alone in reality after you left, and she despaired."

The old man sneered at Georg as he bled.

"N-no, there's no way Asilmate is dead. W-where are you keeping her h-hidden!"

Georg's voice trembled violently.

The old man clumsily grabbed the windowsill and stood up.

"Just as you loved Asilmate, I too loved that girl. I was willing to endure the frown of taking a young girl as my wife at this age. And Georg, I considered you like a son and trusted you. Both of you betrayed me, and only to be met with absurd results."

"Y-you are a coward. You were too scared to kill me with your own hands, so you sold me off as a slave soldier!"

"I thought of you as my son. I couldn't bring myself to kill you with my own hands, Georg. I hated you enough to kill you, yet I cherished you just as much. Don't you still understand why you, a mere scribe slave, were able to receive higher education beyond what was normally given to slaves like you? You should be smart enough to know. There is no way you don't know how much I've done for you, you ungrateful trash."

Georg was exceptional even among other scribe slaves. He received an education under his master that was no less than that of noble children. He was free to roam the library, reading any book he wished.

"Shut up, you old geezer! T-this disaster was brought on by your own excessive greed, disgustingly coveting Asilmate with those wrinkled hands of yours!"

The old man coughed up blood and laughed. His coarse laughter echoed through the empty mansion.

"Yes, you’re right. It was my fault. I treated a dog like a human just because it was cute and clever, and then it mistook itself for one and dared to rival its master. Farewell, Georg. I'm off to meet Asilmate. If you have the courage to meet her too, then follow me."

The old man stretched his foot over the windowsill with a carefree laugh.

"N-no! Stop it! S-stop..."

Georg reached out to stop the old man, but the old man plunged headfirst to the ground.

Crack!

"Fuuuuuuck!"

Georg cursed as he hurriedly ran down from the mansion.

The old man lay on the ground with his head cracked open. His limbs were still twitching intermittently, but even that came to a halt.

"Ugh, heugh..."

Georg looked at the old man's body, suppressing the sobs that seeped out.

The old man died leaving only hatred for Georg. Georg would have to live the rest of his life carrying the burden of the old man's sticky emotions.

"Get up, Georg. You have a job to do. I came all the way here even though I saw right through your intentions. Now do what you have to do."

Urich emerged from the desolate mansion. Even though he had figured out Georg's personal agenda, he didn’t oppose bringing the army here.

‘If I can earn the trust of a capable person by moving an army once, it's not a bad deal.’

Urich knew that Georg was a person he needed. Georg, a slave yet part of the literati and skilled in paperwork, was an irreplaceable talent.

‘Other chiefs may not recognize Georg's value, but I do. I know he is an outstanding talent.’

Urich waited for Georg to stand up.

"I don't regret it. I was the one who was right for Asilmate! It was always me! Dammit!"

Georg kicked the old man's body. He raged, spewing furious curses.

"You think I'm ungrateful? Huh? Don't make me laugh! I'm better than you! I am Georg Artur! I'm not someone who will die as some slave!"

As Georg stomped repeatedly, the corpse’s bones broke. Even after dying, the old man was turned into a mess, sprawled on the garden floor.

"Huff, huff."

Georg gasped for air, wiping his sweat. He stared blankly at the old man's blood-soaked body before vomiting.

The sun set. Georg, after composing himself, picked out a decent coat from inside the mansion and came out.

"...Urich, let's go," Georg said as he adjusted his attire.

Now that he was dressed in a gold-embroidered coat, he looked like a distinguished child of a noble.

Urich, who was sitting in the garden and yawning, stood up and followed Georg.

Urich couldn't empathize with Georg's anguish and sorrow. The two weren't close enough to deeply share each other's pain yet.

However, Urich didn't belittle Georg's sorrow and instead waited for him. That was the courtesy and benevolence he possessed. He might not empathize with Georg’s emotions, but he was able to respect them.

* * *

The commercial city of Vernikal, which led the southern slave trade and triangular trade, had fallen into the hands of the westerners. The westerners did not choose a gentle occupation policy. They were nomadic people, and they only returned to the places they had already plundered once when their granaries had been refilled.

"Ah, ahhhhhh!"

"Heuuuugh!"

In the city square, civilized people were dying in droves. Even the male children were killed as soon as they were spotted, according to the customs of the westerners. If the male children who could eventually become warriors were taken as slaves or killed, it was going to take at least decades for the city to regain its military strength.

‘The Stone Axe Tribe almost ended up just like this once. We almost lost our future by getting our boys and women taken hostage by the Blue Mist Tribe.’

Urich passed by the plaza where the massacre was happening. A part of his heart felt heavy.

‘It needs to be done.'

Although the alliance’s momentum was in full swing now, a frontal battle was still going to be difficult once the main force of the imperial army appeared. The alliance had to plant the fear of westerners deeply in the minds of the civilized. Just as wild beasts puffed up their bodies to appear larger when facing an equal or stronger opponent, the westerners inflated the size of their forces with fear, well beyond their actual combat power.

Murmur, murmur.

The slave market of Vernikal was also in the hands of the westerners. The former masters, who once whipped the slaves, were now kneeling and waiting for their fate.

"...My name is Georg Artur. Just a few months ago, I, too, was a slave like you!"

Georg entered the slave market with the other civilized mercenaries. He kicked the slave traders and stood on the stage.

Slaves with chains around their ankles looked up at Georg with wide eyes.

"There was a time when I, too, lived in humiliating servility as if I was grateful for the mercy of my master. But all I got for serving my master all my life in Vernikal was his order to go die as a slave soldier! The men standing behind me right now were also thrown out as fodder for arrows!"

"Hoh! Hoh!"

The ex-slave mercenaries, who were now looking much more like soldiers than before, roared. The slaves murmured as they saw their gleaming armor.

"The ones we’ve joined hands with are barbarians, but these barbarians are fair! They do not care if you are a slave or a noble, if you fight alongside them, they will pay you your due! Look! All this is ours!"

Chinkle!

A few civilized mercenaries dumped boxes full of gold and silver on the floor. This was their share from the earlier battle.

"Will you live as slaves under the old regime, groveling? Or will you become masters of a new world with us? We are not slaves! The only master of ourselves is us!"

Georg's speech, despite being occasionally interspersed with complex terms like a noble, resonated with the slaves. The message was to break away from slavery by joining hands with the barbarians and uprising.

Most of the slaves here were from the south or mixed race, to begin with. Even those born in the civilized world had only known humiliation as slaves. They had no pride or loyalty to the civilized world.

"Those who will join us, take up your weapons! Cut off the heads of your masters and reclaim your freedom with their blood! Freedom and gold await those who take up the sword, and only chains await those who bow their heads!"

The mercenaries eagerly distributed weapons to the slaves. The slaves rushed forward to grab the weapons.

"For freedom!"

The slaves began to stab and kill the slave traders. The slave traders begged and trembled, but the slaves, who had been whipped and lived in humiliation their entire lives, mercilessly stabbed their former masters to death.

A massive slaughter, cloaked in the guise of freedom, swept through the city.

Rumors that the barbarian army was accepting civilized people spread throughout the city. Those with land and property in the civilized world hid in their homes, waiting for the storm to pass, but the situation for the poor and slaves was different. The serfs took up farming tools, stormed into the landlords' homes, cut their throats, and joined the barbarian army.

"We want to join too!"

"Is it true that you give gold and silver just for fighting?"

These were men who were going to be conscripted to be dragged away without being given a penny when the war eventually broke out, anyway. The rootless ones, one by one, shed their fears and joined the barbarian army.

There were many civilized people who had already joined the barbarian army, making the idea much more acceptable.

The slaves and lower classes of the commercial city of Vernikal flocked to the barbarian army. Their numbers exceeded a thousand.

‘They have no discipline, and their combat skills are ridiculously lacking, but right now, it's important to fill the numbers.'

Urich did not reject the incoming people and accepted them as mercenaries. After plundering the city of Vernikal, Urich's army not only avoided decreasing in number but actually grew larger.

The city of Vernikal burned for days. For some, it was a scene of madness and slaughter. But for others, it was a spark of revolution for freedom.

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