Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Butcher Tribe Chieftain
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Bjornsen, as the chieftain of the Butcher Tribe, was one of the figures destined to relentlessly plague Decaron in the future.
He would cross the border at the slightest provocation to plunder villages and carry out massacres, making him a prime culprit for raising players' blood pressure.
That's why for any player choosing Frey van Sigmund, swiftly subjugating Bjornsen and the Butcher Tribe was a key early-game objective.
Why?
Because if left unchecked, not only would Bjornsen's personal might grow, but so would the tribe's power, eventually becoming a persistent thorn in the player's side.
To think I'd run into that very same Bjornsen here, in the Blood-Soaked Land...
Of course, this was about nine years before the game's starting point.
It wasn't strange for Bjornsen to be here in the Blood-Soaked Land.
“I’ll kill youuuuuu—!!!”
Russell let out a monstrous roar and charged at Bjornsen.
“A Berserker, eh? A club is the best medicine for a mad dog.”
Bjornsen swung his mace at Russell.
*Thwack!*
“Ack!”
Russell screamed once and was sent flying.
The mace had struck him squarely in the chest.
“Kughh!”
Russell couldn't get up easily.
It was only because he was a Berserker that he survived; an ordinary person would have been killed instantly without a doubt.
Begman and Wilson fared no better.
They charged at the same time, but Bjornsen effortlessly parried their combined assault.
“Is this all you’ve got?”
A sneer spread across Bjornsen's lips.
“Is using cheap tricks all you people can do? I'm asking if there are any warriors here!”
With those words, Bjornsen swung his mace wildly, forcing Begman and Wilson back.
“Ugh!”
Begman took a kick to the chest from Bjornsen and was sent flying.
“Gah!”
Wilson was also struck by Bjornsen's mace and collapsed.
*Whoosh, twang!*
Bjornsen even deflected the arrow Marder had hastily fired, raising the shield on his left arm, then brought his mace down on the fallen Wilson.
“...!”
Just as a look of despair clouded Wilson's face.
*Shhhwing!*
Kudo's blade flashed like silver lightning.
“Hah!”
Bjornsen, who had been about to finish Wilson, hastily retreated.
If he hadn't, his head would have been sent flying by Kudo's blade.
“Did you say there are no warriors on the continent?”
“Y-You are?”
Bjornsen seemed to recognize Kudo, his body trembling at the sight of his face.
“Impossible. You were definitely dea—”
“Shh.”
Kudo raised his index finger in a gesture for silence.
“Instead of spouting nonsense, why don't you worry about your own life?”
“...!”
Kudo rushed toward Bjornsen.
*Clang, claaang!*
Kudo's blade and Bjornsen's mace clashed relentlessly, sending sparks flying.
The duel seemed even at a glance, but that lasted only for a moment.
“Tch!”
Kudo was pushed back.
“Hmm?”
Bjornsen looked somewhat puzzled, as if Kudo was weaker than he had expected.
His expression clearly showed his surprise at being able to overwhelm Kudo.
*Thud!*
Bjornsen's headbutt slammed into Kudo's face.
“Keuk!”
As his nose started bleeding, Kudo's head snapped back.
*Whoosh!*
Bjornsen's mace aimed for the side of Kudo's head.
*CRAAANG!*
A sword, chipped and covered in rust.
Grimungandr blocked Bjornsen's mace just as it was about to smash into the side of Kudo's head.
“For someone who looks like a girl, you've got quite some strength.”
Bjornsen seemed quite surprised that Carlyle had blocked his mace.
“Then are you strong because you're ugly?”
“W-What did you say?”
“Who are you... to criticize... someone's looks.”
Carlyle said, batting away Bjornsen’s mace.
“A-Are you saying I'm ugly?”
Bjornsen pointed to himself, asking in disbelief.
“I guess barbarians don't use mirrors. How savage.”
Carlyle said, waving a hand in front of his face.
In truth, Bjornsen wasn't ugly.
It was just that his features were those of a typical barbarian warrior—extremely rugged and menacing.
“Khahahaha!”
Bjornsen suddenly burst into a manic laugh.
“As expected of a continental, you have no eye for beauty. I am considered quite the handsome man in my tribe. Women everywhere are desperate for my seed. What nonsense is this?”
“Ah?”
Carlyle’s expression faltered.
He had completely forgotten that the barbarians' standards of beauty were entirely different from the continent's—the bigger and more menacing one looked, the more handsome or beautiful they were considered.
“As payment for your bullshit, I'll personally pluck out those rotten salmon eyes of yours.”
“What a way with words.”
Carlyle frowned and reset his stance.
*'One wrong move and I'm dead.'*
Carlyle was on high alert.
The current Bjornsen was a 4-star barbarian warrior with four tattoos on his body.
A 4-star barbarian warrior could turn an average knight into a corpse in the blink of an eye.
Setting aside Begman and Wilson, hadn't even Russell, a Berserker, and Kudo, a man of no small skill, been overwhelmed by Bjornsen?
*'He'll be hard to kill, too.'*
Carlyle bit his lower lip as he looked at the tattoo etched in the center of Bjornsen's chest, right over his heart.
That tattoo, known as [Ancient Vitality], had the effect of granting the barbarian warrior a mysterious regenerative power.
It was so potent that players loathed barbarian warriors with the [Ancient Vitality] tattoo, calling them 'Zombie Barbs'.
*'I have to aim for the heart or the head. No other choice.'*
With that thought, Carlyle gripped the hilt of Grimungandr tightly.
***
*Whoosh!*
Bjornsen swung his mace at Carlyle.
*Clang!*
The mace and Grimungandr collided.
“Hoh.”
Bjornsen wore a surprised expression.
Carlyle hadn't budged at all.
Though his delicate features scrunched up slightly, he hadn't been pushed back a single step.
That meant Carlyle's physical strength was far greater than he looked.
Just from the sensation in the hand gripping the mace, Bjornsen could feel Carlyle's power...
“How ridiculous. To think a girly-looking whelp like you is the strongest warrior here.”
“You keep calling me girly... I wonder if you'll still be spouting that nonsense when you die at the hands of this 'girly-looking whelp'.”
*Shhhwing!*
Carlyle swung Grimungandr at Bjornsen.
Soul Soother Sword, Genesis.
The ultimate slash aimed for the area around Bjornsen's neck.
“Hah!”
Bjornsen hastily retreated.
*Drip...*
A drop of blood trickled from a thin red line that had appeared near his Adam's apple.
“Khahat!”
Bjornsen touched his neck, saw the blood on his hand, and let out a dry laugh.
The wound healed quickly thanks to [Ancient Vitality], but the memory of it wouldn't disappear so easily.
“So you're stronger and fiercer than you look, are you? Khahat! Yes! Good! I, Bjornsen, son of Draktar, will give you my all!”
The tattoo on Bjornsen's right forearm glowed red.
*Twitch, twitch!*
*Bulge!*
His already fearsome forearm grew even thicker, veins popping out.
It was a skill called [Mighty Forearms], which temporarily more than doubled the strength of his arm.
“Valhallaaaaaaa!!!”
Bjornsen let out a roar and began to swing his mace indiscriminately.
*Clang, claaang!*
*CRASH!*
Carlyle not only withstood the onslaught from Bjornsen's [Mighty Forearms] but also managed to land counterattacks in between.
Instead, the longer the fight dragged on, the more it was Bjornsen, not Carlyle, who was at a disadvantage.
The Grimungandr that Carlyle wielded accurately pierced and slashed at Bjornsen's neck and heart.
That was why small wounds began to accumulate around Bjornsen's neck and chest.
But that was the limit.
*'So this is what a difference in weight class feels like.'*
Carlyle was keenly aware of his lack of power and speed.
Moreover, as befitting a 4-star barbarian warrior, Bjornsen's defense was far greater than expected.
His tough, leathery skin was able to withstand even the sharp edge of Grimungandr.
If their physical specs had been similar, he could have killed Bjornsen in the blink of an eye...
“You're stronger and more skilled than you look! But you are weak! Too weak to kill me, Bjornsen, son of Draktar!”
*Whirl, whoosh, wham!*
Bjornsen's mace struck like a storm, pressing Carlyle back.
“Kugh!”
Just as a groan escaped Carlyle's lips as he was cornered.
“I'll kill you... I'll kill youuuuuu!”
Russell, who had somehow gotten back to his feet, aimed for Bjornsen's back.
“Stop playing with the rookie and play with us!”
“You son of a bitch!”
Begman and Wilson also fought through their injuries and attacked Bjornsen.
“Must you be so infuriating?”
Kudo wiped away the blood streaming from his nose and rejoined the fight against Bjornsen.
And so, a five-on-one situation was formed.
But no one, not even Bjornsen himself, blamed the reconnaissance team or called them cowards.
Why?
Because this was war.
Wasn't the essence of war to kill the enemy and seize victory by any means necessary, rather than being a fight for honor or pride?
*'Now, this is a fight I can win.'*
Carlyle, having caught his breath thanks to his teammates, gripped the hilt of Grimungandr tightly.
To be honest, a one-on-one fight was hopeless.
But with his teammates... with his comrades-in-arms, it was a different story.
His comrades were making up for his physical shortcomings.
In that case, Carlyle just needed to fulfill his role as the sharpest sword.
The role of inflicting a fatal wound on Bjornsen, the man with [Ancient Vitality].
***
In the five-on-one fight, the reconnaissance team had a clear advantage.
No, they were completely overwhelming the 4-star barbarian warrior, Bjornsen.
“Kraaaahk!”
A scream burst from Bjornsen's lips.
“Die, die, you son of a bitch!”
Begman's handaxe hacked at Bjornsen's broad back.
“Kugh... You damn flies!!!”
Bjornsen roared and tried to counterattack, but it wasn't easy.
“Whoa there, you need to behave.”
Kudo's blade swung, slashing open Bjornsen's abdomen.
*Splaash!*
Blood erupted, and his intestines spilled out.
Of course, they would regenerate quickly thanks to [Ancient Vitality], but it was no exaggeration to say he had suffered a serious injury.
“I'll kill youuuuu!”
The greatsword Russell swung severed Bjornsen's left arm.
“Kuuugh!”
At that very moment, as Bjornsen writhed in pain.
*'Now!'*
Seizing the opportunity, Carlyle thrust Grimungandr forward.
Soul Soother Sword, Heartpiercer.
It was the ultimate piercing attack.
*Stab!*
Grimungandr pierced through Bjornsen's left chest and exited out his back.
Even so, he had managed to twist his body to avoid having his heart pierced.
And...
*BOOM!*
Bjornsen slammed his right foot into the ground.
“...!”
Carlyle and the rest of the reconnaissance team momentarily lost their balance, were flung into the air, and then crashed back to the ground.
Lightning Stomp.
It was a crowd control ability that forcefully stomped the ground, launching all enemies within a radius of several meters into the air.
“Honorable warriors! Retreat, retreat!”
Bjornsen hastily gave the order to retreat, then kicked off the ground with all his might.
*Fwoosh!*
Having cast [Thunder Leap], Bjornsen began to fly over the stockade.
But the reconnaissance team had no intention of letting him go so easily.
“Where do you think you're going.”
Marder's eyes glinted fiercely as he drew his bowstring.
