Chapter 222

The situation was not favorable for Urich. Three northern warriors stood before him, and about ten more ran along the edge of the lake toward him. Even for Urich, the chances of winning when surrounded by more than ten northern warriors were grim.

Urich knew he didn’t have a single second to waste. This wasn’t the time for idle banter, and he had to act swiftly. He grabbed his weapon and leaped between the three northern warriors.

"Hup."

Urich took a deep breath as he swung his arms. The blade swirled, and the axe cut through the air.

Krika, watching the fight, opened his eyes wide. The arms and legs of the northern warriors dropped to the ground like flies.

Urich tore through his enemies without hesitation, splitting heads and severing limbs. It was by no means an easy task. A warrior always fought with his life on the line. No matter how great a warrior was, all it took was one mistake for them to die.

"Phew."

Urich, covered in blood, looked at the warriors running along the edge of the lake. Fortunately, they were coming in a single line with some space in between each of them.

"Hmph."

Urich gathered several throwing axes from the fallen warriors. Northern warriors favored axes, so they usually carried one or two made for throwing.

Whirl.

Urich spun the axe in his hand. He tested the weight distribution of the axe as he glanced at the northern warriors running toward him.

"I'm a little tired... but if I don't do this right, I guess I’ll just die, keke."

Urich grumbled with a chuckle as he moved his hands with lightning speed.

Crunch!

Urich threw the axe with one hand while swinging his sword with the other. It was as if he alone was moving at a different speed.

The northern warriors twitched as the axe struck them. Urich took the opportunity to behead and stab them in the heart.

The northern warriors charging in a single line fell one by one. Their heads rolled on the ground like toys. It was a sight so surreal that it even stunned the other northern warriors.

"Hup."

Urich threw another axe. It luckily hit the northern warrior right on the crown, sparing Urich further trouble of finishing him off.

"Attack him! Surround and kill him!"

The northern warriors pulled out their shields from their backs, though seemingly a little too late. They advanced cautiously, trying not to be taken down individually.

'There are seven left. If I let them surround me, it's over,' Urich thought as he stepped back, being careful not to get surrounded.

The northern warriors no longer rushed at him carelessly. The heavy pressure pressed on Urich, but the situation was no different for the northern warriors surrounding him.

'The rumor that Urich, the warrior who killed the giant, is blessed by Ulgaro might not be a lie.'

More than five warriors had already fallen to just one man, and it all happened in a flash. To the northern warriors, what had just unfolded seemed like something one could never do without the protection of a divine being.

Whirl.

Urich tilted his head, dodging an axe flying toward him. The enemy's attacks were fierce.

'Into the forest.'

Urich dashed into the dense trees, almost fleeing. The northern warriors quickly pursued him to not let him get away.

"If Urich came here alone, he's as good as dead. He might be a good fighter, but..." Krika muttered as he looked toward the forest.

Screams echoed in succession in the forest. Only those involved would know what was happening.

Krika checked Bilker's wound. The arrow had dug in deeper than he first thought, perhaps reaching all the way into his internal organs.

"Bilker, come on, stay with me. If you fall asleep right now, you'll really die, you idiot," Krika said, slapping Bilker's cheek.

Bilker, in a daze, only managed to mumble incoherently.

Taking an injured Bilker and escaping was not going to get them very far. Krika’s only hope of survival depended on Urich coming out of the forest alive.

Krika prayed desperately. He didn’t care which god was listening to him. He was more than willing to risk his own life—he just didn’t want Bilker to die.

'Bilker isn't a warrior. He doesn't have the resolve to die. Whether it’s Lou or Ulgaro, are you really going to take him?'

No one knew who would claim Bilker's soul. The only thing that was certain was that it would leave his body and venture into the unknown.

"A-am I going to die?"

"You don't die from just one arrow, you dumbass!"

There were plenty of warriors who survived three or four arrows, while some died from mere scratches that got infected. The outcome of a battle could be influenced by human skill, but life and death were matters of the gods that surpassed the realm of humans.

Krika wanted to at least do some first aid, but he had not learned how to remove an arrow safely. Even if he did, it would be difficult to do in these conditions.

"Pray, Bilker. Pray that they don't take you away."

Krika looked toward the forest. The sound of weapons clashing echoed again.

Urich was fighting while using a large tree as cover. There was no one who had his back. Even the warriors who were initially with him couldn’t keep up with his pace. Urich had marched through the nights, without sleep. No one was keeping up with that.

'It's been a while since I've fought against a bunch of them by myself,' Urich thought.

But it wasn’t the time for reminiscing. A single mistake led to death. No matter how strong he was, fighting against many by himself was not a battle that could be easily won. Even a superhuman died when their head was cut off and their heart was stabbed.

"Hup!"

Urich grabbed an approaching northern warrior by the arm and threw him toward the tree. The warrior groaned as his arm was dislocated and he was slammed against the tree. Urich pounced on him like a praying mantis looking for its prey and finished him off.

"Huuaaaaa!"

Urich roared as he slashed with his sword. The head of the warrior was severed, and the blood from the cross-section of the neck splattered on the tree bark.

Schluck.

Someone stabbed Urich's arm. Urich swung his axe like a reflex, crushing the enemy's skull as the axeblade was embedded deep into the head.

'It didn’t hit the bone.'

Urich checked the wound and then re-assessed the location of his enemies.

Thwip.

An arrow was aimed at Urich's head. Urich's eyes widened as he focused on the arrowhead that looked like a single dot.

The northern warrior who shot the arrow was sure it would hit Urich's head. No human could dodge that.

Thuck.

Blood sprayed from Urich's head. The northern warriors roared as they charged toward him.

Schluck!

But Urich didn't fall. He swung his sword while blood dripped from under his chin. He stabbed the approaching warrior in the abdomen and used him as a shield.

"Kuuugh."

The stabbed warrior was dragged around like a human shield. A trail of blood followed Urich as he walked.

"Huff, huff. Cough, spit."

Urich spat out the blood that was pooled in his mouth. His cheek was pierced by an arrow, and blood poured out from the puncture. He had twisted his head just at the moment of impact, narrowly avoiding death.

Snap.

Urich broke the arrow that had pierced his cheek. Two red spots appeared on his cheek. With each of his breaths, a gurgling sound came from the holes in his cheek.

"That was close, you bastard," Urich shouted at the warrior who shot the arrow. The warrior, still holding the bow, flinched as he reloaded his bow.

'He dodged that? That bastard is a monster.'

Urich hid behind a tree and then slit the throat of the warrior he had used as a shield. Warm blood splashed onto his body.

"Phew."

The more he fought, the clearer his mind became. The fatigue from marching through the nights for two days had vanished long ago.

"What the..."

The northern warriors were stunned by Urich's combat skills. After entering the forest, only five of them remained.

It didn’t seem like an overstatement to say that he was the reincarnation of Ulgaro or Mijorn. The northern warriors facing Urich had no doubt he was a legendary warrior.

"Ulgaro..."

The northern warriors murmured. Urich smirked. Civilized people would have had their spirits broken by Urich’s ferocity already.

'But these guys are northerners. The stronger the warrior they’re facing, the more these insane bastards stick their necks out.'

The stronger the opponent, the more fiercely the northern warriors fought. They were a group that knew no retreat once the battle began.

To cut down three or five warriors at once was something that was supposed to be possible only in the lyrics sung by the bards. Urich was rolling on the ground, picking up various wounds. He used people as shields and threw dirt into the eyes of the charging warriors. He fought persistently with everything he had at his disposal.

Urich held on stubbornly, taking the last breaths of the warriors one by one. His body was just as battered as the number of corpses.

"You are a magnificent warrior, Urich."

The last standing warrior said to him. Urich threw the head he had just cut off onto the ground.

"I hear that often, cough."

Urich's arms and shoulders drooped low. Through the torn fur coat, his steel breastplate was revealed. It was dented and scratched all over. Without it, he would have died from fatal injuries a while ago.

"Today is a day I can go to the Field without an ounce of shame."

The warrior charged with a roar. Even though he was an enemy, Urich's perseverance had moved him. He fought against Urich, forgetting even the fear of death.

Clang!

The two blades clashed, and Urich staggered. The northern warrior extended his leg to kick Urich's shin, causing him to lose his balance and grab onto the ground.

The northern warrior swung his large sword, aiming for Urich's throat. Urich, even with his massive frame, swiftly rolled across the ground. Amidst the chaos, he found a stone and threw it without a second thought.

Thunk!

The stone struck the warrior's eye. It wasn't intentional; it was pure luck.

Urich didn't miss the opportunity. He jumped to his feet and lunged, slamming his body weight into the warrior. The warrior fell backward, dropping his sword.

"Wooooaaaah!"

Urich viciously roared as he clasped his hands together and struck the warrior's face.

Crack!

The warrior's face shattered. His broken teeth spouted all the way up to Urich’s face.

Thump!

Urich, like an enraged bear, brutally smashed the enemy's head.

The warrior's limbs twitched. A cloudy steam rose from his pants due to the urine and feces released.

"Huff, huff."

Urich lay down beside the corpse, panting. He stared up at the cold sky.

"Just like that, I once again live to see another day."

He couldn't remember all the details of the battle. Everything was left to madness and his warrior instincts. His body, which he had trained for combat, had not betrayed him.

'Bilker.'

Urich thought of Bilker, who'd been hit by an arrow, and stood up. Stumbling, he walked back along the path toward the lakeside.

"Urich?"

Krika was startled upon seeing Urich emerging from the forest, covered in blood. He looked like an evil spirit with all the human blood he had soaked up.

'Did he kill all of them? All by himself? The warriors of the north?'

Krika was at a loss for words. Of course, since Urich survived alone, the rest must have died.

"How’s Bilker?"

Urich pulled a needle and thread from his bag. He began to roughly stitch up his torn cheek and other wounds.

"He's still alive."

"Anyway, whose side are you on? I didn't have time to ask earlier, but I just decided to help because it seemed like you were being chased."

"I'm on no one's side," Krika replied. Urich squinted at him.

"... Start a fire first. We need hot water, so go pick up that helmet, fill it with water, and heat it up. Ah, clean it first, of course."

Urich said in a commanding tone, but Krika complied without question. Experienced warriors knew how to administer first aid. There was no doubt that Urich had more experience than Krika.

'It would be best to go to a village to get him some proper treatment, but Bilker wouldn’t last through the trip, and we don’t even have horses.'

Urich looked at the arrow lodged in Bilker's back. It was quite deeply embedded.

Urich himself was also severely wounded, but he knew from experience that his body wouldn’t die from them. If he was going to die from injuries like these, he would've turned into a skeleton long ago.

"The arrowhead is embedded in flesh and muscle. Pulling it out is going to hurt a lot, Brother Bilker. Can you even hear me?"

“Ughhhhh.”

Bilker could only groan in response to Urich.

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