Barbarian Quest

Gottval hurried in the rain under the guidance of the warrior.

The alliance's camp was quiet. Even those drinking were silent as if they were in mourning. In the corner of the cluster of tents, there was even a talk of rising up for Urich.

If Samikan had considered the future of the alliance, he should not have ended the internal strife the way he did. Though the visible division was stitched, for now, nothing had changed underneath the surface. It was uncertain when things might go wrong again.

'An imperfect organization like this can’t be led for much longer.'

Gottval narrowed his eyes. He saw the future of the barbarians. It was a group that would likely collapse if morale dropped or if there was even a slight lack of justification for staying together.

In contrast, the imperial army moved as if they were a single entity. Unity was their strongest weapon. They were soldiers bonded by a sense of duty, not desire.

'Is this… a good thing? But if things stay this way, many will die, whether they are the plunderers or imperial soldiers.'

Gottval followed the warrior to the cell where Urich was confined. He saw Urich who was slouching against the wooden bars.

"I heard you called for me. Urich?"

Gottval looked into Urich's eyes from the other side of the bars. Urich's cloudy eyes were staring into the darkness.

"Gottval... do you know of Ulgaro?" Urich spoke with an uneasy voice.

"Yes, I have heard of him. He is the northern god who oversees war."

Gottval grabbed the bars. The wood's grain was solid.

"That Ulgaro is coming to take me."

Urich's lips were quivering as he spoke. Gottval tilted his head puzzled and reached through the bars to grasp Urich's arm.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's always been watching me. Ulgaro has been waiting for the chance to take my soul."

"…have you forsaken Lou for Ulgaro?"

Urich looked at Gottval for a moment then shook his head.

"I never put my faith in Ulgaro, but I did receive his help a few times. He’s shown up in front of me every now and then."

"You saw a god," Gottval murmured as he stroked his chin. He hadn't shaved recently, so his beard was rough.

"The Ulgaro who has only been watching me until now is finally coming to collect my soul. I am indebted to him."

"Urich, if you could see a god, that is proof that you are a being who is close to them. Resist him with that power."

Gottval read Urich's gestures and eyes. They resembled the reactions of knights or soldiers who were close to death.

"You told me I had a choice."

"We always have a choice. Just as I chose to follow you."

Proselytizing was a duty of a Solarist priest, but Gottval was the only priest who was bold enough to willingly join a group of barbarians who were invading the civilized world. People said it was madness, but Gottval chose to do what he believed was right.

'It wasn't by chance that I met Urich. Everything was led by Lou. Urich is loved by the gods. The gods are fighting over his soul.'

Urich's soul was being dragged to Ulgaro.

"Urich, you said you abandoned Lou, but a god is not something you can just abandon at will. From the moment you were baptized, you were always a son of Lou. Lou has never ignored you. The sunlight isn't as intense as Ulgaro's thunder and darkness, but it always shines on us."

Gottval realized what his mission was. A priest was a representative of the gods.

"Ulgaro was human. He is an evil spirit who couldn't find an afterlife. The northerners only worshipped a great human as a god. If you follow Ulgaro, you'll become just another evil spirit, like him. Hold on until dawn, Urich."

"Yeah, I know all about evil spirits. Hell, I’ve got one right in front of me right now. It's harboring resentment toward me."

Urich was leaning against the bars in the corner of his cell. His movements were restricted as if there was someone else inside the bars with him.

'Just what exactly is Urich seeing?'

Gottval took out his sun necklace and handed it to Urich.

Clink.

The necklace of a sun priest was a precious treasure. The necklace of a late renowned priest was sold to nobles for a high price as it was believed to be imbued with blessings.

"Lou will be able to see you a bit better now."

Urich clutched the sun necklace and looked at Gottval. The torch behind Gottval flickered, dazzling his eyes. The light split like a rainbow.

"The name of the evil spirit before my eyes is Gizzle," Urich recited hollowly.

"Gizzle?"

"He was the former chief of my tribe. He was stupid and incompetent. Well, not that stupid. But he never properly understood his capabilities. That foolishness led the tribe into crisis. I became the chief for the sake of my people. I’ve never even wanted this position. Ever since I was young, the elders said I would be the chief, and it turned out to be true. The reasons Gizzle was wary and disliked me became reality."

The old shaman always said that Urich was the warrior of light. She went around blabbering that he would become a great warrior. The elders murmured that Urich was going to grow into an extraordinary person.

"That is fate and choice, Urich. Some are purified by Lou's side and born as kings and nobles, while others are born as slaves or barbarians. That’s just the fate and duty bestowed by Lou. Those born into royalty fulfill their duties according to Lou's will. Everyone receives their roles from Lou, just as I am a priest, and you are a barbarian chief."

"So, is this suffering I'm enduring also fate?"

"The pain like the one you’re experiencing right now always has a reason behind it. We just can't see it with our eyes right now."

The word 'fate' was terrifyingly frightening. Gottval's eyes, which had always been warm, felt cold at this moment.

"Urich, however, within the fate granted by Lou, we can make choices. You can show benevolence, or you can wield terror. How much terror have you wielded so far, and how much benevolence have you shown?"

"…Gottval, I didn't call you here for this kind of philosophical discussion. I need you to help me."

Urich grasped the bars and leaned in close. The face of the young man that was always hidden by scars was revealed. Great warrior, Son of the Earth, chief of the Stone Axe Tribe. There were many titles that referred to Urich, but no one truly saw the young man inside.

"Of course. I want to help you."

"I'll live spreading benevolence and love just like you said. Putting down my weapons wouldn’t be too bad, either. Lou doesn't favor warriors, right? This was never what I wanted to do. I was just curious about what lay beyond. I just wanted to know the unknown, to see what I hadn't seen. I've been making the wrong choices all along. It's time to correct them."

Gottval's eyes narrowed as he listened to Urich.

"Is that your choice?"

"I want your blessing and protection. Of all the people I've met, you're the only one who told me I could live a different life. Everyone else just demanded the strength and valor of a warrior from me."

Urich was tired. Despite being a young warrior, he felt as worn as an old knight who had spent a lifetime on the battlefield. He lifted his rain-soaked face, waiting for Gottval's response.

"I will respect your choice, even if everyone jeers and condemns it. But that is only when it's truly a choice. Have you made a brave choice now? Or are you running away in fear?"

Urich's pupils quivered. Thunder crashed. The noise was so intense it gave him a headache. He swallowed the swelling nausea and bared his teeth before speaking again.

"…It's my choice."

"I've seen how people here rely on you. Even in a time like this, they believe you will rise again."

"I've done enough."

"There's no such thing as enough in this world, Urich. You’ve either accomplished or not."

"Are you blaming me, too? Even you?"

Urich glared fiercely. He reached through the bars and grabbed Gottval by the collar.

"You can always make a choice, and there are other paths for you as well. But you must take responsibility for the choices you have made thus far. Everyone does… If you didn't want to be a chief, why did you become one? Why did you become a warrior respected by all those people?"

"Shut up."

"To start anew and make new choices, you must finish what you’ve started, Urich. From what I see, you just want to throw away a tangled situation and run."

"Shut your mouth before I kill you."

Urich extended his fingers and gripped Gottval's throat.

"If that's your choice, I am more than willing to die. My duty is to spread Lou's teachings and lead others on the right path. I do not run away from my duty and responsibility like you. Sometimes, duty and responsibility are scarier than death. But you must not run away… g-gugh."

Urich tightened his grip. Gottval's throat constricted.

To those who understood honor, duty and responsibility were scarier than death. Knowing that fear, people sometimes fled to death to avoid their given duties. The frustration and pain of knowing that you did not fulfill a given mission were a heavy burden.

"K-kugh, running away won't set you free."

"I said shut up!"

Urich lifted Gottval with one hand and threw him down. His strength was still monstrous.

"Cough."

Gottval, thrown into the mud, coughed as he spat out the filth that got into his mouth.

Urich blankly stared at his own hand. The falling raindrops looked red, like blood.

—Urich, you too must fulfill your responsibilities. You can't abandon your tribe now.

Gizzle appeared and whispered. His last words echoed in Urich's ears. Despite facing all kinds of disasters and criticisms, Gizzle never ran away from his duties and responsibilities.

—Ulgaro is the god of warriors.

And then there were Sven’s words. He was a stubborn northerner who did not give up his people and religion, staunchly adhering to his beliefs until death.

—Oh, Ulgaro.

Ferzen, who betrayed Lou and believed in Ulgaro, lived his entire life filled with pain and curses.

A warrior endured pain in order to protect. The warriors of the west knew that life equated to pain. They understood that living painfully, gasping and starving, was life itself. Even after enduring a difficult dry season, they knew another would come. They simply found solace in the brief moments of sweetness that occasionally arrived.

Urich's body was robust. It was sturdy as if it was blessed by a god.

Therefore, he never truly experienced the real meaning of pain and endurance. He did not know the pain of those who were not chosen, those who fell to rock bottom and desperately struggled as they rolled in it.

To Urich, his strength was natural, and winning battles was just a matter of course. He was superior even when just running around and swinging a sword the same as others. It was a blessing that couldn't be explained by mere effort.

However, most people fail and get frustrated. Foolishly, everyone harbors desires in their hearts that are beyond their means. They yearn for a better life and things they cannot have. Even though they trip and fall over and over, they rise again driven by those desires.

‘Bachman, who used to hunt whales...’

Bachman, who was Urich’s friend and brother from his mercenary squad, died without achieving anything even until the day he died. He had neither the blessed strength like Urich nor was he born into nobility or royalty. Thus, the ordinary Bachman envied and resented the nobility and royalty until the day he died.

‘Princess Damia, who was a royalty.’

She was never recognized for her royal talents because she was born as a woman. Damia, who was jealous of yet loved her twin brother, lived a twisted life and faced the worst catastrophe she had feared.

‘Sven, whose life and values were denied.’

Yet, Sven still lived his life according to his beliefs. He steadfastly lived on despite the whole world denying the values he believed in and followed all his life. Even if the path he walked was downhill, he did not stop.

The path Urich climbed was filled with people who had failed. Urich always won and looked down on those who failed. He lectured them and demanded things from them as if he were superior, and that they should naturally also be on the same level as him.

Not everyone could be strong like Urich.

There was no one who could stand unbroken against the storms of life.

‘Pahell, you were an incredible guy.’

He remembered Pahell, who had become a king, and the tubby Bilker who died. Pahell’s agonies were not the complaints of a weak person. Despite failing, getting frustrated, and losing many times, Pahell always moved forward. Even when his sister's betrayal pierced his heart, he did not forget his duties as a king.

The tubby Bilker was forced into a role that did not match his capabilities. How heavy must the duties and responsibilities that he simply could not fulfill have been for such a young boy?

"Ah, ahhhh..."

Urich scraped the floor with his nails, groaning low like a beast. He remembered how he blamed Pahell’s weakness and mocked and exploited Bilker's foolishness.

Underneath Samikan's victory lay Urich's defeat. For the first time in his life, Urich stood in the position of the loser, looking up at the winner.

"You lose one time and now you talk about running away to live a comfortable life? Have you lost your mind, Urich?" Urich criticized himself.

Urich banged his head against the wooden bars. The warriors murmured that Urich had finally gone mad.

Crash!

The thunderstorm was getting closer. The warriors in the camp crouched close to the ground, waiting for the storm to pass. They knew from experience that lightning struck high structures and metal.

Gottval ran toward Urich in a frantic hurry upon seeing him banging his head against the bars. Madness flickered in that act of self-harm.

Rain and lightning struck the alliance. In the harsh rainstorm, Gottval's clothes soared as if they were about to take off.

Drip, drip.

Urich raised his head, bleeding. His forehead was scraped, revealing raw, red flesh. His yellow eyes flickered, searching through the writhing darkness.

"Come on, give me your advice, you damned lost spirit. Now's the time."

The warrior in the winged helmet who was drawing the darkness toward Urich stepped backward into the shadows. Only a vague shadow and a pair of faint blue lights continued to stare at Urich.

Creak.

The warrior in the winged helmet pointed to the sky with his finger. The sound of the wind tore through the air like a cry from Ulgaro.

The warriors had dropped their spears on the ground due to the thunderstorm. However, the wind just before had been so strong that the spears on the ground were lifted and swept upward. Some warriors were injured by the airborne weapons and debris.

All of a sudden, Gottval, who was protecting his head with his single arm, opened his eyes wide and screamed out.

"Urich!"

A spear, swept up by the wind, plunged into the bars of Urich's cell.

Thwuck!

The spearhead pierced Urich's chest. The warriors who were crouched down stood up abruptly to look at Urich. They all thought he had died.

Drip, drip.

Blood dripped from the spear. Urich had instinctively raised his injured right arm and caught the spear. His chest was merely scratched, but the abrupt movement had reopened the wound on his right collarbone.

"Throw the weapon here, Urich."

The warriors said to Urich as they were on alert for Urich obtaining a weapon. They were getting up awkwardly due to the still ongoing lightning storm.

Crash!

Urich looked up at the sky as he heard the sound. He lifted the spear through the bars above.

"W-what are you doing!" The warriors exclaimed in confusion.

Urich looked at them with a grin on his face, but his face gradually stiffened.

"Shit."

Nothing happened. The thunderstorm had passed the alliance.

"Ha, haha, what exactly were you trying to do?"

The warriors gradually straightened their backs and laughed. Urich's face turned red.

'Damn you, Ulgaro, playing with me like that.'

The tail end of the storm passed over the alliance as it sprinkled light rain over them.

But when no one was expecting it, a single streak of lightning fell.

Crack!

By the time the warriors heard it, the lightning had already struck.

Tsssss!

The wooden bars were burning. A black shadow wavered in the space shrouded in flames and smoke.

Crunch!

A heavy fist shattered the half-burned bars. Black smoke poured out as the owner of the fist opened his mouth. Sparks sizzled, jumping off the metal accessories.

The first thing visible through the smoke was an arm. On the right forearm, a lightning burn was vividly swollen.

"...Gods really are eccentric, Gottval."

Smoke rolled over the charred muscles and receded. Urich stepped out from the broken bars.

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