Chapter 17
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Admiring the Barbarian
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A thick cloud of dust billowed up, scattering in the northern wind alongside the snow on the ground.
The shapes of two men rolling on the rough cobblestone road gradually came into view.
"Ugh..."
I swallowed a groan and slowly pushed myself up.
The kid clutched in my arms seemed fine, thankfully.
Whether from the shock or sheer terror, he just stared up at me blankly.
"Are you alright, Young Master?"
Only then did focus return to the boy's eyes at the sound of my voice.
Kairun gaped up at me in a daze.
His face was caked in dirt.
His hair was a tangled mess.
The sniveling brat who'd been burning with petty jealousy toward me just moments ago was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, his eyes held a shock bordering on awe.
And who could blame him? I was quite the sight myself.
"Hoo."
I stood up, brushing the dirt from my clothes.
My back burned fiercely.
Right before the carriage hit, I'd wrapped the kid in my arms and slid across the ground on my back. It was only natural.
A quick glance over my shoulder revealed the black Behemoth uniform's back and shoulders torn to shreds.
Singed by friction heat and ripped open, exposing raw, reddened flesh beneath.
What a shame. It was expensive stuff.
It might've been free, but it was still national treasure-grade leather, wasn't it?
"Y-Young Master!"
"Lord Kairun!"
At that moment, the escort knights came rushing over from afar, pale as ghosts.
People poured out of the clothing shop too, having heard the commotion.
"Aaaah! My masterpiece! My Behemoth!"
The first to charge over was, unexpectedly, the head tailor.
He couldn't have cared less about Kairun's safety.
He shrieked like a parent who'd lost a child, fixated solely on my shredded back.
"Do you know what kind of leather this is? I poured my soul into it!"
The tailor rushed behind me and clutched at the tattered leather.
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly.
"Uh, well... things got urgent. Do I need to pay for this?"
I'd bragged it was free, but I'd turned it into rags in under five minutes after taking it. I had nothing to say.
I was debating whether to tell him to bill the Eisen Baron when...
"Pay for it?!"
The tailor shook his head furiously, eyes bulging.
"This is Behemoth leather! It doesn't yield to mere damage like this!"
"Pardon?"
"Look closely! This is the dignity of our heirloom!"
He rummaged in his pocket and pulled something out.
A spray bottle with a small glass vial of swirling purple liquid.
And a small mana soldering iron.
Psssh!
Spraying the torn section produced a sour smell and rising smoke.
It was mana extract tuned to a precise concentration.
Then, pressing the heated iron to the wound...
Sizzz!
"...?!"
A bizarre sound accompanied an unbelievable sight.
The ragged edges of the torn leather began writhing like a living creature.
The black hide stretched on its own, weaving together and fusing seamlessly under the heat.
Kieeeek!
Hm? What was that? Sounded like a scream...
The scratched surface sloughed off like shed skin, revealing glossy new leather beneath.
In just ten seconds.
My back was restored perfectly, like brand-new.
"Whoa..."
I couldn't close my mouth.
This wasn't repair.
It was regeneration.
"...Is this really clothing? It's not still a live monster... right?"
The tailor grinned maniacally at my question.
"Dead, yet alive. That's Behemoth! It reacts to mana at a specific concentration, regenerating eternally without decay—an immortal armor! At last, it meets its true master and awakens its power!"
He stroked my back in rapture.
Honestly, it creeped me out a bit.
That scream from the iron was still echoing in my ears.
But no one else reacted.
Did I imagine it...?
After that eerie display, the escort knights and Eisen Baron finally snapped out of it and approached.
Clank.
The knight captain dropped to one knee before me.
"Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
His voice trembled.
The grand duke's heir had nearly died.
If I hadn't saved him, they'd all have lost their heads.
"Without you, we couldn't have faced our lord! This grace... we'll never forget it!"
"Ah, no big deal. Couldn't just stand by while someone got hurt."
I waved it off casually.
Then Kara shoved through the crowd.
"Barg!"
She immediately patted me down, checking everywhere.
"You okay? Hurt anywhere? Blood? Bones?"
"Fine. The clothes are good—no scrapes even."
"You idiot!"
Smack!
Kara slapped my back.
"What if you'd gotten hurt throwing yourself in like that? What about me and the kid?!"
She sounded angry, but tears welled in her blue eyes.
I grinned to reassure her, stroking her hair.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be careful next time. My body's tough, though."
"Shut up!"
Kara buried her face in my chest with a sigh of relief.
Watching us, the Eisen Baron approached, wiping his glasses.
His face was ashen too.
"Phew... If the grand duke's son had an accident at the empire's border... Unthinkable."
He adjusted his glasses and looked at me with sincere gratitude.
"Barg. You saved the empire. No— you saved all our lives."
Amid the praise, thanks, and commotion.
One person alone.
Kairun remained silent.
He sat on the ground, staring blankly at me.
As if the noise around him was blocked out, his gaze fixed solely on me.
My head buzzed.
What had just happened didn't feel real.
The moment death's terror loomed, that solid, massive embrace shielding him.
The shiver seeing that back grind against stone.
And that casual smile, fretting only over clothing costs.
All of it shocking.
"......"
Kairun placed a hand on his chest.
His heart pounded wildly.
Different from the flutter seeing Kara on the cafe terrace earlier.
That had been possessiveness and curiosity.
This feeling now...
Overwhelm.
And 'admiration'.
A massive shift in values rocked Kairun's mind.
In the original story, Kairun's ideal was clear.
'Tough and noble, someone who can protect me.'
Obsessed with perfection since childhood, suppressed under his father's shadow, he'd unconsciously craved a 'strong protector'.
In the original, that was Kara Wintersword.
He fixated on her strength and resilience.
But now.
His ideal had split.
'Miss Kara is still beautiful... and noble...'
Kairun's gaze shifted from teary-eyed Kara worrying for her husband to the steadfast Barg protecting her.
'But... my admiration, the true embodiment of the strength I aspire to, is that man.'
Saving his life without fanfare.
Overwhelming power laced with hidden gentleness.
The 'complete man' he'd longed to be but never could.
Enlightenment struck like lightning.
"I... didn't love Miss Kara."
He murmured, entranced.
"I... wanted to become a warrior like him."
The realization that what he'd mistaken for love was mere 'admiration' for strength.
And that arrow of admiration shifted perfectly from Kara to Barg.
Kairun's eyes changed.
The childish glare of jealousy vanished.
Replaced by a boy's sparkling gaze upon his idol.
That was when.
"Y-Young Master! P-Please, kill me!"
A bloodied man shoved through the crowd, slamming his forehead to the ground.
The carriage driver from the accident.
Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead, but he kowtowed relentlessly, begging.
"I... my eyes failed me for a moment... Sob! I've committed a mortal sin!"
"You mad bastard!"
One escort knight couldn't hold back his rage and drew his sword.
"Because of you, the young master nearly died! I'll take your head...!"
"Stop."
A cold voice halted the knight's blade.
Kairun reined in his own guard.
"Young master? But this scum...!"
"Sheathe that sword. That's an order."
Kairun brushed dust from his clothes and approached the driver.
He placed a hand on the trembling man's shoulder.
"Look up."
"Sob... Y-Young master..."
"I saw it. You yanking the reins at the last second. It was my mistake that caused the crash to begin with."
Kairun's eyes were surprisingly calm.
"If you'd kept straight, you'd have hit bystanders. I saw you steer toward the wall to protect the citizens right up to the end."
"...!"
The driver's eyes widened round.
Stunned that this young heir had pierced his split-second judgment.
"A carriage can be rebuilt, but not a life. You prevented a greater disaster by holding the reins to the end."
Kairun pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the driver's bloody forehead.
"I won't punish you."
"Y-Young master... Thank you! Thank you!"
The driver wept in gratitude.
The escort knights and onlookers watched solemnly.
I nodded, arms crossed.
Not bad.
It was handling worthy of doubt if it was the same sniveling young master from the original.
Still young, but the vessel of a 'lord' was growing within.
Having sorted the situation, Kairun straightened his clothes and approached me.
Dust still clung to his coat hem.
But his demeanor was utterly serious.
A boy barely reaching my chest.
But those eyes no longer belonged to a sniveling heir.
"Thank you... Barg."
He bowed deeply.
"We spoke at the restaurant earlier, but let me thank you properly now. For saving my life."
A frank, straightforward apology.
I was inwardly surprised.
The prideful original character, who'd sneered at me as a barbarian, bowing his head?
Kairun hesitated, then asked in a trembling voice.
"You... you're really Gorgon's son, right?"
A strange hope gleamed in his eyes.
He wanted to believe my strength stemmed from 'bloodline'.
He'd mentioned my father Gorgon even when insulting Kara in the original.
The living legend of the north—his blood granted such overwhelming power.
Only then could he soothe his inferiority, believing himself weak and talentless.
I answered flatly.
"Yes."
Kairun's face darkened.
As expected... bloodline.
As his shoulders slumped, I drove the wedge home.
"To be precise, I'm adopted. Father took in this orphan. Not a drop of blood shared."
"...!"
Kairun's eyes flashed wide.
"No blood... connection?"
"Yeah. Abandoned in the snowfields with nothing but an axe."
"......"
Kairun stared up at me blankly.
Not bloodline.
An adopted orphan.
Yet that strength, that spirit.
The fact hit Kairun like a thunderbolt—and a dazzling light.
Then... me too?
That realm seemed impossibly high, its entrance a pinhole.
Too bright beyond to stare without blinding.
But if not bloodline, then he could aspire to it.
Reach for it.
Despair turned to 'hope'.
The boy reached for the wall.
And dug in his first handhold.
He might fall.
His body might shatter.
Even so, he'd climb again.
Barg had become the living milestone Kairun would pursue his whole life.
Hope eased Kairun's expression.
He rummaged in his pocket.
The crude barbarian leather mask Kara had lent him at the restaurant.
Kairun approached Kara and offered it politely.
"Here... I'll return it. Sorry for my rudeness earlier, Miss Kara."
No hesitation in his gesture.
I won't cling to you anymore.
A silent farewell, metaphor for ending his puppy love.
Kara, oblivious, smiled brightly and took it.
"Oh, thank you, Young Master. Thought I'd lost it. You kept it safe even after falling? Appreciate it."
His first love's beaming smile flushed Kairun's cheeks.
...She's still pretty.
Ideals don't shift overnight.
A racing heart was just physiology.
But Kairun turned away quickly.
This flutter was merely a passing breeze.
Of course, this spring wind would return across seasons.
But the chill winnowed by snow would always blow in Norheim.
Turning from his flushed face, arms-crossed Barg watched him.
Kairun clenched his fist.
He'd leave the crush's flutter to Kara.
But as a warrior, his hot blood and admiration now burned wholly for Barg.