So He Was Plotting Something Behind That Insanely Hot Exterior!
The moment Grihamar's thick cock thrust up into her pussy, Sigrun — locked tight in his arms and howling lewd cries loud enough to shake the world — thought to herself.
I knew it. Prophecies aren't worth a damn. Nothing about them is right except the part where I moan while taking this adorable barbarian's cock♡
And she remembered.
"When the thunder that shook the homeland of all frosts ceases, every soul upon the continent shall moan beneath the barbarian's hammer!"
That was the prophecy handed down from ages long past — from the era of hatred when the blood of the Reinhardt people and the barbarians was endlessly embroidered across the snowfields of Frostheim —
and
I intend to examine it myself, with these two eyes and ears, right there on the ground.
"Nngh♡ At, at least do it on the bed♡ Fuck me on the bed♡ I-if you just keep slamming up into my pussy one-sidedly like this, uhooook♡"
"Says the bitch who clamps down and cums every single time I thrust up?"
Even now he was crushing her in his embrace as if to break her, ramming his cock upward with a force that seemed intent on wrecking her pussy completely — her first meeting with this adorable barbarian.
Right. Back then, for sure...
The whole thing had started with nothing more than a single piece of intelligence.
"The barbarians' battle wild boar population has exploded?"
Having just reported the intelligence from a knight tasked with watching the barbarians of Frostheim, Sigrun nodded at the question from her older sister — Astrid Reinhardt, the ruler of this land.
"Yes. Exactly ten years since Thunder Rock Mountain fell silent."
"You're suggesting the barbarians are preparing for war — that they've broken the non-aggression treaty with us...?"
Ten years earlier, Reinhardt Territory had gone on high alert.
And for good reason. According to the prophecy, once the thunder that shook the homeland of all frosts ceased, a barbarian with a hammer would ravage the continent.
Here, the homeland of all frosts meant Frostheim itself, and the thunder that made the earth tremble could only mean Thunder Rock Mountain, where lightning never stopped crashing down.
If the thunder and lightning there ceased, it meant that before long a hammer-wielding barbarian would return to spill blood across this land once more.
Fortunately — or perhaps unfortunately — nothing of the catastrophe the prophecy described had come to pass. Still, Astrid and Sigrun could not simply ignore the anomaly at Thunder Rock Mountain, so they began intelligence operations of their own: periodically dispatching adventurers into barbarian lands, and more.
The result was that a certain legend circulating among the barbarians — a legend about a hammer — eventually reached Astrid and Sigrun's ears.
"It was the story of a mystical hammer that flies to its master's call no matter where it is, smashes the master's enemies, and cleaves the earth with endless thunder and lightning... wasn't it?"
"Do you think that hammer legend is connected to the anomaly at Thunder Rock Mountain ten years ago — and to the explosion in battle wild boar numbers today?"
"I don't know. But I wouldn't call the possibility nonexistent. It's hard to dismiss all of this as pure coincidence — and I also seem to remember seeing something about that hammer in the records our ancestors left behind."
Thankfully no disaster had struck ten years ago. But what if it had been some kind of deception?
What if, for a full ten years, they had been hunkering down in that freezing snowfield, waiting for the Reinhardts' vigilance to grow soft?
There was nothing to lose by being careful, Astrid added — then, as if something had just occurred to her, she asked:
"Come to think of it, there's a barbarian who's been making regular trips into our territory lately, isn't there?"
"Yes. We put a tail on him. By all accounts he simply delivers meat — no information-gathering, no suspicious activity of any kind."
"Right. Said to be enormously tall — well over two meters — and built like a fortress. And far from causing trouble, his temperament is remarkably mild. The territory folk even speak decently of him."
And yet, ironically, that only made him more suspicious.
The anomaly of ten years past. The hammer legend. The surge in battle wild boars. And now the appearance of a barbarian who looked, by any measure, born with a hero's bearing.
"So you said you plan to go after him from here on?"
"Yes. The timing is far too convenient for a man who's merely selling meat. And even if he plays the gentle giant in our territory, who knows what he's like on his home ground? I've marked him as a person of interest and intend to gather information on the subject of our watch before anything happens."
"I see... So he might be showing a savage, beastly true nature back at his base that he never reveals here. Like the barbarians in those illicit books you brought in, Sigrun."
"W-why would you bring that up all of a sudden?!"
In the middle of a serious discussion, her sister's mischievous jab about Sigrun's most embarrassing secret made her face blaze red as she yelped.
"How could I forget? When I told you to confiscate the illicit books and bring them to me, who would have thought I'd catch you using them as 'side dishes' for furious handplay in bed every night..."
"I-I'm leaving now! As it happens, just before I came to report, word arrived that the barbarian has entered the territory! If I'm going to tail him I need to prepare at once, so I'll just—!"
Thump-thump-thump—
The mere memory of that day was enough to send heat flooding into her face; she fanned herself with one hand as she tried to escape the office.
Watching her little sister's retreating back, Astrid chuckled softly — then slipped her arms under a bust every bit as spectacular as Sigrun's own and asked:
"More importantly — are you really going yourself? You could send someone else."
"This concerns the safety and peace of our people. And it's not some minor matter — it may be intelligence that the barbarians are preparing for all-out war. I want to examine it myself, with these two eyes and ears, right there on the ground. Besides, even if it were you instead of me, Sister..."
"I would have done the same as you. I know. I only said it because I was worried."
Honestly, fretting over a Sword Master who could cleave mountains was about as pointless as fretting got — but Sigrun was still her one and only blood relative.
In the end Astrid couldn't hold back. She dashed after Sigrun and thrust forward the bag she had already prepared for her sister's journey.
"Here! Pack plenty of Fire Stones. And emergency rations... and a communication crystal..."
"I can't take that much?!"
And so Sigrun set out after the suspicious barbarian named Grihamar with a pack the size of a snail's shell, courtesy of Astrid — and almost immediately found herself tilting her head at a strange sense of wrongness.
"What is this...? Why isn't he keeping any watch on his surroundings at all? Why isn't he even checking whether someone's tailing him?"
This barbarian was full of holes.
If he were a scout sent ahead for all-out war, he would normally move with every effort to erase his trail and minimize the chance of being followed. This barbarian did none of that.
"This isn't the movement of a man wary of being tailed. If anything, it's the movement of someone who has no reason to be tailed — and therefore no worry about it whatsoever...?"
Could it be that this man wasn't a scout at all?
His appearance alone was far too conspicuous for anyone sent on reconnaissance and intelligence work.
Long, log-thick arms and legs. Muscles so perfect they looked sculpted by hand. A face to match — ruggedly handsome — and, last of all, the wicked silhouette of his cock faintly outlined against his leather trousers.
"Ahhh...♡"
Perhaps her guard had simply melted at the sight of such an unguarded barbarian. Or perhaps it was residual heat from Astrid's earlier teasing.
Either way, the image of a barbarian from those illicit books — the kind who corrupted lady knights into breeding sows — suddenly rose in Sigrun's mind. Before she knew it, a wicked little smile was curling her lips as she ran a sticky gaze over the barbarian trudging home with a load of straw on his back.
"If only his personality were a little more beastly on top of that... then he'd be completely my type... Ahem. T-this wicked barbarian bastard...!"
Trying to seduce a noble lady knight like me with that insanely hot face of his!
Never mind that until a second ago she had been spinning absurd fantasies with him as her side dish, fantasies fit for a full-blown masochistic pervert.
Even she found her own behavior thoroughly filthy — so filthy that she started pinning nonexistent crimes on the perfectly innocent barbarian just to feel better about it.
"As penance for that crime, you can make me bear about thirty of your children... Hm?"
Right then, as Sigrun diligently tailed Grihamar, a log cabin appeared before her eyes — and beyond it, a massive structure.
"There was something like this here? More importantly, this shouldn't be the barbarians' main settlement..."
She knew the barbarians' true base lay farther north, near the foot of Thunder Rock Mountain. Sigrun tilted her head and muttered to herself.
"What in the world? Why did he come here? And what is that building?"
Had he really not been a scout after all?
"No. I can't rule out the possibility that he simply broke away from the barbarian tribes and lives on his own. Right — which means I also can't rule out the possibility that he's a feast prepared for a hungry lady knight who's out looking for a mate... *slurp*... can I?♡"
Ahhh, ahhh.
The lecherously curved corners of her mouth were going slack, proof that her wariness had softened considerably since she first received the intelligence on him. A heated breath thick with filthy desire was just about to spill from her lips when—
Slap-slap. Sigrun lightly smacked her own cheeks, shook her head, and muttered.
"Ahem. Not yet. I can't completely drop my guard yet. He's a barbarian. A barbarian who could be hiding anything inside those pants. Besides, I still don't know what that massive structure is... Hm?"
Sniff-sniff—
What was that smell?
A suspicious odor riding the wind from the direction of the enormous, purpose-unknown building.
But Sigrun — a noble lady knight who had long stood watch over Frostheim — identified it at once.
"This is... the smell of battle wild boar dung! And a massive amount of it!"
Of course he was a barbarian. So he really had been plotting something behind that insanely hot exterior!
Sigrun immediately closed her eyes on the spot and poured every nerve into her sense of smell and hearing.
Her already razor-sharp Sword Master senses, sharpened further by her concentration, succeeded in picking up the noise from the massive structure a full hundred to two hundred meters away — and the presence of more battle wild boars than she could count.
And then she understood.
That enormous building was nothing less than a livestock pen producing vicious weapons of war. And the barbarian she had been drooling over only moments before was the very culprit behind the recent anomaly in Frostheim.
"That place! That man! He's the one behind the recent explosion in battle wild boar numbers!"
I knew I couldn't let my guard down around him!
Part of her wanted to draw her sword on the spot and confront him then and there.
But—
"...No. First I need to go to the barbarians' main settlement and confirm things for myself. Once I've seen with my own eyes whether they're truly preparing for war against us, it won't be too late to pass judgment on him."
One moment's error, one premature decision, and something irreversible might erupt between her people and the barbarians.
Judging that she needed to be even more careful at a time like this, Sigrun set aside her interrogation of Grihamar for later and headed straight north toward the barbarians' main settlement.