Chapter 137
Chapter 137
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 137
Chapter Title: You Know It's the Dead of Winter
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“...So that’s why I had to pass the warrior ritual.
For my father who lost his arm, and my brother who can never walk again, I had to take responsibility for the family.”
“I see.
You’re only seventeen now, right?
Tas, you’ve had it rough.”
“Ahaha.
It’s been forever since I heard something like that.
It’s become my duty, my way of life now, so no one really feels that way anymore.”
“Life’s all a battle anyway, but some have it tougher than others.”
“You don’t seem that old yourself, but hearing you talk like this feels kinda weird.”
“True.
Anyway, I heard your story, so let’s get back to square one.
Why were you dozing off during your shift?”
“Eep.”
He’d listened to everything, so now it was time to tease a bit.
Of course, just enough to keep it light, something they could all laugh about.
“I was talking to that warrior named Jallan earlier.
He told me if I spot any warrior slacking on duty, to make sure and let him know.”
“Gasp!
R-Really?”
As if.
Total bullshit, obviously.
Tas, having no way of knowing that, panicked and sidled up to Sion before spilling the beans.
“P-Please don’t tell Jallan-nim I was dozing on duty.
I’d end up shoveling horse shit all day!”
“Then you shouldn’t have dozed off.”
“Ugh!
I was just so tired!
You wouldn’t get it...”
“What’re you talking about.
I helped you guys clear the snow earlier and set up the tents, remember?
You think I’m not tired?
How could I not know how exhausted you warriors are?”
“Ah, r-right... you did.”
If some guy who’d just been eating and lounging had barged in yelling, “Hey, this one’s asleep? Gotta rat him out!” they would’ve bristled with resentment.
The northern barbarian tribes were already pretty closed-off to outsiders, and forgetting his place as a guest would’ve been a huge blunder.
But Sion had been different from the start.
While everyone was struggling to pitch tents in the blizzard, he’d jumped in to help the warriors without anyone even asking.
Sure, his help came laced with some colorful curses that raised a few eyebrows, but listening to him made them think, “Damn, we were really half-assing it.”
Sharing the hardship like that built a strange camaraderie with this guy—who wasn’t even a warrior, not from their tribe, not even northern, but a kingdom citizen.
And that sense of kinship was working in his favor even now, mid-scolding.
“You’re really gonna tell Jallan-nim?”
“Jallan asked me to, didn’t he?
Tas, your story was so touching I’ll let it slide this time.”
“Really?
Thank you!”
“Quiet down.
You’ll wake everyone up.”
Sion lightly smacked the back of Tas’s head, then zeroed in on his next target.
A warrior in his mid-thirties who’d been eavesdropping from the start.
“Tas, quick question.
Is there some warrior etiquette that says it’s okay to eavesdrop on conversations?”
“No?
Not that I know of.
Northern warriors don’t do sneaky shit like that to begin with.
Honorable warriors, that is!”
“...Right.”
So why did these “honorable” types abandon all virtue the second battle started, earning them the nickname “horseback bandits” from the kingdom’s northern nobles?
Sion scratched his cheek, thinking that, but on second thought, it made sense.
In war, flanking or hitting from behind was standard.
“Hey, you over there pretending not to look but listening hard?”
“...”
“Pretending you didn’t hear doesn’t erase what you already did, y’know?
Hmm.
They say in the kingdom that northern warriors might slack sometimes, but they hold to honor in peacetime. Looks like straight-up lies...”
“Ahem!
I-I wasn’t eavesdropping.
I just happened to hear while on duty!”
Yeah, yeah.
Everyone says that.
Anyway, these guys—Jallan, his warriors—were so battle-obsessed they came off naive in other areas.
Not surprising, since unlike the kingdom, there were no political intrigues here.
‘Normally I’d tell them to shut up on watch, but standing silent for hours is just as boring and sleep-inducing.’
Sion stayed by Tas’s side, deliberately not looking at the warrior as he continued.
“You probably heard my intro from chatting with Tas earlier.”
“...I was wondering what kinda guy Temuchin-nim would host as a guest. Now it’s starting to make sense.
The chiefs say kingdom nobles are all trash not worth dealing with, but you don’t seem like that.”
“Hey, that might be partly true, but I’m a kingdom citizen too.
Don’t badmouth the kingdom in front of one.”
“...If I was rude, I apologize.”
That reaction came because Sion had laid the groundwork.
Though they’d just met, sharing those grueling tasks had built an unspoken “We did it together” bond.
Plus, he was the guest of Temuchin—the woman the warriors both feared and revered most—so they couldn’t be rude.
‘Normally they’d brush it off coldly with “So what?”
But it’s human nature—you don’t snap at someone you suffered alongside.’
In a harsh place like the north, getting “help” meant you owed proper respect in return. That etiquette sealed it.
“Um, guest.”
“I said Sion, Tas.”
“Right, Sion.
Why’re you out here in the dead of night?
Watch duty I’d get, but suddenly at dawn...”
“I told you.
Jallan asked me to catch any slackers, so I picked the weakest time—dawn.
And boom, you got caught, Tas.”
“Really?”
“You’re believing that too?”
At Sion’s jab, Tas shot back with a puzzled, “Then why’d you even get up?”
“Couldn’t sleep, so I stepped out.”
“Bed uncomfortable?”
“I’d be lying if I said no.
Born a noble, can’t help it.
But it’s not so bad I can’t sleep.
Just tossing around with thoughts.”
“Oh yeah, I heard the warriors talking about you.
War hero, right? That true?”
Figured they’d ask eventually.
To barbarian warriors, battlefield exploits and glory were everything, so they’d be dying to know about Sion’s “war hero” title.
“Earned some merit fighting a neighboring country.
Oh, I didn’t explain this properly to you, Tas?”
“You charged into battle yourself?”
“No way.
You’re a great noble—getting captured would be a huge loss.”
“Unfortunately for them, I fought on the front lines.
Even carried a wounded soldier back on my back.”
Tas and the other warrior gawked like “No way!”
From their view, Sion looked like he’d never done a hard day’s work.
Delicate features, limbs that’d snap under strain, smooth skin with barely a scar.
‘How’d that body see frontline action?’
Totally fair question.
“What’s with those faces.
You look like you don’t buy it.”
“...Honestly, yeah.
Even the kingdom’s northern lords we clashed with had soldiers and knights up front, nobles commanding from rear.”
“You think nobles can’t lead on-site?
I didn’t hack enemies myself, but I was right up front with the troops, clashing left and right.”
Sion mimed clearing snow, then pitching tents as he went on.
“What I showed earlier—was that acting?
If I’d just sat back twiddling thumbs, would I look so much like you guys?”
“Definitely not some freeloader.”
“...Yeah.”
Tas and the warrior nodded at each other.
Even as warriors, shoveling snow, staking ground, checking levels, raising poles, pitching tents—it was never fun or welcome.
Sion’s moves earlier were too damn familiar to be fake.
“And get this.
I played one tune on an instrument and sent the pursuing enemies packing.”
“No way!”
“That’s gotta be fake.”
“Swear to god, you idiots.”
Guys bonding? Simple recipe.
Share hardship stories for rapport, spin yarns that sound like tall tales but might be real to spark interest, laugh it up.
With the “shared suffering” badge? You’re getting “Let’s grab a drink sometime!”
“...Ugh.
What’s with all the noise.”
A warrior crawled out from a tent, grumbling.
Apparently light sleeper—woken by their chat.
Tas apologized and told him to go back to bed, but he seemed intrigued.
“You the guest?”
“Sion Klausen.”
“I’m Yung.
The guy clearing snow two spots over from you earlier.”
“Oh, the warrior who got gut-poked by a shovel and went down?”
“Ahem!”
Sion’s merciless fact-bomb left Yung coughing, while Tas and the warrior cackled, mimicking Yung’s yelp from earlier.
“Damn it.
Showed my embarrassing side.”
“Ahaha!
Yung-uncle did go down kinda messy.”
“Shut it, kid.
Felt like getting chewed out by the wife—no lies.”
“Got rejected again?
Wait, last time you said you’d get frisky with your wife when you got home.”
“No pay, why waste stamina on weird stuff? Shot down flat.”
Yung’s griping cranked up Tas and the warrior’s laughter.
Not one to take it alone, Yung fired back.
“You two got no news?
Tas is fresh meat, fine, but Hursle.
Heard you paired with a girl from our tribe—still alive?”
“Ahem!
What’re you on about?”
“My buddy’s daughter. Hates your tribe folk.
Nagged her about it so much she’d growl at your tribesmen.”
“First few days, yeah.
But our tribe’s warriors don’t fold that easy.
Women melt when a man turns up the heat. Like this—hot!”
The warrior, Hursle, demonstrated with some enthusiastic hip thrusts.
Like he’d ravish any woman in sight. Yung looked floored; Tas clutched his sides laughing.
“But Yung, you’re so old now—can you even use your hips right?
Lucky if a woman doesn’t eat you alive.”
“Pfft!
Yung-uncle, no way that’s true, right?”
“These punks teaming up on me?
What do you take me for?
Back in the day, I melted every village woman with these hips, you brats!”
“Oh, really?
And now?
Now’s what counts.”
Hursle cackled, ribbing Yung mercilessly.
Tas laughed till his gut hurt, then noticed Sion nearby and sobered up, cautiously speaking.
“Uh, Sion.
Don’t think weird of this.
It’s just...”
“Women talk? Can’t sit this out.
Forgot? I’m a kingdom great noble.
You can’t imagine the women clinging to me.”
Guys together? Dirty jokes inevitable.
If it’s constant, maybe frustration or issues—but in endless war and survival grind, it’s normal.
Only escape from the hard, miserable drudgery.
‘Knew this’d come up, so I told Lishi to stay in the tent.
She’d hate it, and warriors wouldn’t blab like this in front of a woman.
Her being here would just make things awkward.’
Worried about guards, but Sion reassured Lishi and headed out.
More like baited her: “Behave, and we share a sleeping bag tonight.”
‘Back then, seniors shoved me “horny stories 1-2-3” I scraped together from bullshit to shut ’em up.’
Wonder how that damn junior-lover match-senior’s doing.
Bet he dodged the cops’ red line.
“Hoh, Sion.
Now I’m curious.”
“Me too.
Sion, what about kingdom women?
They really do whatever men say—total submissives?”
“Bullshit!
Fiercer than you know.
North or kingdom, women are monsters that devour men.
Husbands losing to wives? Universal truth!”
“Puhahaha!”