Barbarian Quest

Chapter 3

“We’ll take him down with our arrows, Sir Fordgal!” one of the bowmen suggested.

“No! We must capture this barbarian alive. Even I would have to retreat if the other barbarians came back with reinforcements. This one will be a great token of our newly discovered land and an excellent gift for His Majesty,” Fordgal shouted as he held his sword upside down by the blade. This maneuver of using the pommel and the grip as a blunt weapon was an imperial swordsmanship called Bladegrip.

“You’re fooling around with your sword in front of me? Do I look like a joke to you? You bastards are dead.” Fordgal’s absurd sword-wielding left Urich dumbfounded. He then realized that the bowmen surrounding him had no intention of shooting their arrows.

‘Are they trying to capture me alive?’ Urich frowned in disbelief. He had always been the face of terror in every battle he was in, yet these strange men were giving him a sense of humiliation that he had never felt before.

The anger made Urich clench his fist to the point where his arms became tense. Everything faded into the background.

Fordgal gradually closed in on Urich as the other men observed with their eyes wide open, so as to not miss a single action.

Woosh!

Urich was the one who made the first move. He launched himself forward as he flung one of his axes at Fordgal. The axe thrown with momentum struck Fordgal’s helmet.

Fordgal’s eyes widened as he realized where the axe had struck. ‘He aimed the blade at the gap in my helmet. Did he really intentionally aim for this tiny target?’ Fordgal was faced with the barbarian ruthlessly charging toward him, aggressively swinging his other axe as if he was about to split his head in half.

“You barbarian!” Fordgal let out a roar as he swung his upside-down sword, aiming to strike Urich’s temple with the pommel of his sword. Please visit 𝓃𝑜vel-𝒏𝑒xt.𝒸𝑜𝔪 website to read fastest update

Fordgal and Urich exchanged their blows. Blood spouted from Fordgal’s face. Urich had slashed his cheek.

“Shoot him, now!” Fordgal shouted.

The bowmen urgently released their arrows onto their target. Urich’s back was soon covered with several arrows.

“Protect Sir Fordgal!”

Fordgal assessed the wound on his cheek inflicted by the barbarian. ‘He knocked my helmet off with one axe throw so that he could strike my bare head with the other.’ Even though Urich was a mere barbarian, Fordgal couldn’t help but be impressed by his skill.

“Get him!”

The other men surrounded Urich and battered him mercilessly with their blunt weapons. Urich could only crouch with arrows sticking out of his back.

“That’s enough, he must be captured alive!” Fordgal commanded his men and found Urich sprawled on the ground, beaten to a pulp.

“You got lucky, metal man!” Urich blurted out in laughter. If Urich had landed his blow just a little deeper, Fordgal’s head would have been cracked into two.

“Shut it, you barbarian!” The men mocked Urich as they slapped him across his face. Although they didn’t understand each other, abusive language found its way into their exchange.

“Sir Fordgal, you must dress your wound as quickly as possible.”

“Get that barbarian cleaned up as well. We don’t know when the rest of them might come back.” Fordgal told his men as he glared at Urich, who didn’t so much as blink an eye as they removed the arrows from his back.

‘This barbarian has ridiculous guts and an impeccable combat skill to back it up... are the rest of them like this, too? We’ve got to get out of here before they come back.’ The barbarians that got away during the battle made Fordgal anxious. He knew that his men were only explorers and that they would not be able to withstand another barbarian attack.

“The arrows did not make it in as deep as they should have, Sir Fordgal. The quality of his muscles seems superior to ours. Otherwise, the arrows would have reached his organs and killed him. But these are still deep wounds, so they’ll fester quickly if we make him move without proper rest and recovery. If he’s lucky, he’ll make it over the mountains. If he’s not, he’ll die.”

“Ah, that’s why I wanted to capture him without inflicting too many injuries on him. Oh well, if he dies, he dies. Let’s get moving.”

Fordgal got up after dressing the cut on his cheek. His men then removed his armor plates and shared the carrying of the parts.

“Get up, you barbarian!”

Urich was forced to pick his wounded body up. There were ropes around his hands as well as his neck so that Fordgal’s men could easily choke and knock him out in case of any retaliation.

‘Am I climbing over the mountains? These men really are from the other side!’ Urich’s eyes widened. ‘So, beyond the mountains is another world of men. It isn't a world for the dead!’ Although he was captured, Urich’s eyes brightened with excitement and inspiration. His sparkling eyes were already locked in beyond the mountains.

“Get moving!”

The men tugged on Urich’s ropes. Being dragged, he had no choice but to stumble along.

‘Dammit, this hurts like hell.’ The pain from the arrow wounds in Urich’s back grew more intense as he was dragged along. Some herbal remedies and rest would help, but that wasn’t an option.

‘They’re taking me all the way to the other side.’ Urich’s heart was beating out of his chest. His lips were twitching from the fear and excitement.

“Is that where your world is? Over these mountains?” Urich asked the men, but he wasn’t understood, anyway. Instead, he was met with the cold glare of Fordgal and his men as they marched on in silence.

* * *

Urich now understood exactly why the warriors of his tribe couldn’t get over the Sky Mountains.

Click, Click, Click.

The significant drop in the temperature as they climbed the altitude made his teeth chatter.

‘This is way too damn cold, god dammit!’

The mountain was so cold that it felt as if even sound itself could freeze, and it was only getting worse as the men continued the ascent.

The blizzard showed no signs of stopping. Urich swung his sword at the helpless explorers, slaying them one by one. Most of these men didn’t possess nearly enough combat experience to protect themselves against Urich’s ruthless swipes.

Even though Urich was fatigued and ill, he was still a warrior with unparalleled skill and experience. Anyone who didn’t devote their entire lives to fighting didn’t stand a chance against him.

Slash.

Five men were slain by his sword in the blink of an eye. Before the blood could freeze, Urich wiped it off the blade with his sleeve. No matter how good a sword was, it would be rendered useless if blood clotted or froze over its blade.

“How did he get out of the ropes? Did he snap them off with just his strength? Well, I guess there’s no point in asking him since he doesn’t speak our language.” Fordgal mumbled to himself as he emerged from the snow. He had gone out to collect firewood for the camp. When he heard the screams of his expedition team, he rushed back to the scene of the incident.

Cling.

Fordgal drew his sword and lifted his shield. However, he no longer had the advantage of a full plate armor that helped him in his initial battle against Urich.

“My name is Urich. Urich of the Stone Axe tribe.” Urich emphasized his name as he raised his sword. The message got through to Fordgal.

“Even if you’re just a feeble barbarian, ‘Urich,’ I’m sure a warrior of your caliber understands honor. I am Fordgal Arten, the empire knight!’”

Fordgal expressed a sign of respect by crossing his sword and shield. The blizzard was growing to the point where it was difficult to stand still without losing balance. The bodies of the fallen explorers were getting buried underneath the pelting snow.

“I know your name now, Fordgal Arten,” Urich said to Fordgal as he stumbled toward the latter. He had no intention of dragging this fight on as he was losing strength every second.

‘You can’t defeat me, Fordgal,’ Urich murmured like a ghost as he wound up his arm. His sword tip penetrated the sliver of a gap that he spotted on Fordgal’s shield.

“Keugh!” Fordgal extended his shield in an attempt to parry the sword.

‘You foolish barbarian. You are not getting through my shield. Once I’ve broken your stance with my shield, it’s over for you!’

Fordgal assumed that shields were not a common encounter for the barbarians, and he was correct. To Urich’s people, shields were something used to protect them from arrows. They were not favored at all during close combats like this. But using a sword and shield in close combat was like bread and butter for knights like Fordgal. Ever since he was a young apprentice, he had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into mastering many different skills and moves that he was recalling at this moment.

“Huh?” Fordgal let out a dumbfounded expression. He wasn’t feeling the force of the sword striking his shield as he expected. Urich had ditched the sword and was pouncing into Fordgal’s side with a wound-up fist.

Thud!

Urich buried his boulder-like fist recklessly into Fordgal’s face. Fordgal felt the impact of the punch reverberate all the way up to his head through the tense muscles.

Crunch.

Urich grabbed Fordgal’s hands and crushed his fingers. Fordgal was no longer able to wield his sword.

“Argh!”

Urich’s beast-like grip left Fordgal in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that Urich was a human, just like himself, as his helpless fingers crumpled up like twigs. His hand was in no shape to hold a sword, let alone fight with one.

Fordgal used his remaining hand with the shield to push Urich off of himself.

Thud.

Even when momentarily repelled, Urich kept his brown eyes locked in on Fordgal. He picked up the sword that he dropped and swung it low.

“Keugh!” Fordgal screamed as crimson red blood spouted from his ankle. Urich had slashed him straight through his leather boots.

“What an impressive sword,” Urich muttered as he stood over his defeated opponent. The battle was over.

“You fought well, Fordgal Arten.” With these words, Urich diffused his smoldering hatred and rage.

Schluck.

Urich struck down and buried his sword into Fordgal’s chest. He did so with reverence.

“Your skills weren’t half bad, but your blade lacked the bloodlust. That’s what set us apart,” Urich said to his lifeless enemy. Fordgal’s sword-wielding lacked the sweet, metallic smell of the battleground blood. It had taken the lives of only a few enemies. This gave Urich the certainty of victory.

Fordgal was a skillful knight. However, compared to Urich, he significantly lacked real combat experience. A bloodless sword like his was a child’s play to Urich. A warrior grew stronger with each additional enemy slain. To become a strong warrior, one must stand tall on top of a mountain of their enemies’ corpses. Although Urich was much younger than Fordgal, he had already built a bigger mountain than Fordgal ever could.

“I’m dizzy,” Urich sighed as he rested his tired body against a tree. The rigorous battle from a moment ago aggravated the symptoms of his mountain sickness.

“Blech.” Urich had nothing left to vomit. It looked as if all that was left of his face was just skin and bones.

“Sky Mountains,” Urich muttered to himself as he pointed above.

“Motherland,” he muttered again as he pointed below—to his home.

“Over there is the land beyond the mountains,” he muttered one last time as he pointed to the other side of the mountain.

‘The mysterious world.’

Thump, thump.

Urich’s heart was racing. He hoisted himself up from the tree and cut his long flowing locks with his newly acquired sword.

Woosh.

He released his hair into the blizzard and watched as they flurried toward the land of his home. Urich was just a sixteen-year-old warrior from the Stone Axe tribe. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was the mountain sickness messing with his head, the childishness of youth, or the natural curiosity of man—but he walked. Toward the foreign land, with his back turned against his home.

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