The Rider Who Calls Death (5)

I frowned at the sight of the Ulster warriors aiming their bows at us from the dark forest. I understood their wariness. Something must have gone wrong in the village, so it was only natural to be suspicious of anyone approaching from that direction. The problem was that they were doing it from inside the forest.

The Ulster people weren’t elves, so why the hell were they living in the woods? Their settlement was probably somewhere beyond this forest. That made this behavior completely out of line. It was like standing in your own front yard inspecting the road.

“Stop right there, outsider! Entering the forest is forbidden!!”

Anyone listening would think it was an elf with a speech impediment. I frowned. We needed to reach Bicorn’s sanctuary in that forest. I felt for the locals and their conflict, but I couldn’t let them block our path.

—Hop.

I jumped down from the coachman’s seat. I planned to reason with them.

“Hello! Can you hear me? Our business is with the forest, not with you── fuck?”

My face froze mid-shout. Even with my superhuman eyesight, the darkness had hidden it at first. That son of a bitch was completely naked. He was an Ulster body-painted warrior!

“Kyaaaaaaaack!!!”

I screamed at the unexpected eye-rape. From his carefully posed position in the tree, a fucking viper was swinging wildly between his legs with a loud schwaaaak.

“You fucking exhibitionist!! This is a Geneva Convention violation!!”

A tribe of swinging-dick barbarian archers! That was a genuine inhumane biochemical weapon. The road to the afterlife I’d witnessed while crying from tear gas in CBRN training flashed before my eyes again. The romantic fantasy otherworlders had about Ulster’s naked villages was all a lie!

I felt a surge of rage toward the peddler who had tried to sell me medicine on the carriage to Sargadis. What possible value could there be in a place crawling with such horrible naked men? Like a tourist who enters a Japanese mixed bath with excitement only to be greeted by the sagging man-tits of middle-aged guys and suddenly understands the cruelty of the world, I felt actual terrorism from this sudden visual assault.

One of the differences between humans and monkeys is the presence of clothes, so why were these people trying to regress back to the age of barbarism? Was the phonetic similarity between “barbarian” and “barbari-man” simply coincidence? No! It couldn’t be! The common denominator between ancient barbarians and modern barbarians was the “barbari” itself!

I was overcome with lamentation. Their appearance gave racist fucks plenty of material for discrimination. It was almost pitiable.

Lie. It wasn’t pitiable. It was fucking disgusting.

In this cold weather, with their dicks all shrunken up, what the hell were they showing off in front of our wives? Should I smash their groins with a rock?

No. Hold it in! My inner racism!

There is no such thing as justified discrimination in this world. There was no law saying you could turn their sausage and eggs into a full English breakfast just because they were barbari-men.

When I suddenly shouted, the one among the Ulster people who was relatively dressed jumped down from the tree. He leapt like a monkey, took a proper human landing, and shouted back at me.

“I’m telling you to put on clothes! Why are you answering off-topic!! We’re not going to the village, we’re going into the forest, you bastard!!”

I dropped the polite speech. I had let my guard down because the guy was at least wearing something like a Tarzan loincloth, but during his landing I caught a full view of his rolling elephant. My mana-enhanced senses were suddenly something I resented deeply.

Nothing my ass. That’s where my wife’s relative lives.

I felt dizzy at the sudden appearance of a queer festival gatekeeper when I was trying to head to the otherworld non-virgin land. What made it worse was that I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t carelessly talk about Bicorn’s sanctuary. Even if they thought I was scheming, I had no counterargument.

This time I had to be shocked for a different reason. The one who shouted was a woman. And a young maiden at that. A female warrior with nothing but body paint scribbled across her naked form.

No matter if they were our wives, they wouldn’t like me staring openly at another woman’s naked body. I could feel my wives peeking out from the carriage. I quickly averted my gaze.

The sword-wielding female warrior leapt down from the tree. She swung her blade at me, who stood at the front. At least she had some sense left; the sword was still sheathed. Still, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered.

They’re rushing in again like this?

Was there some kind of anger virus spreading through Germania? I had that useless thought, then realized it wasn’t useless at all.

—Grab!

I caught the sheathed blade with my bare hand. The female warrior stared at my hand in shock. She had swung with full force to subdue me, only for it to be caught so easily.

I narrowed my eyes at her body paint.

“Just as I thought.”

The naked female warrior’s skin drew closer to the lantern ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠light. Black dye had been applied there. It was the gall oak dye that the president of the Two Stars Trading Company had been spreading around. Fuck. So it had circulated even this far.

Even though Gorgolia and Nidavellir aren’t exactly close.

I’d left a warning before I departed, but maybe the lord hadn’t done his job? No. Even if he had cleaned up his own country and spread the news to neighboring nations, information like this wouldn’t have reached these remote naked tribes.

“Excuse me, ma’am. That tattoo on your body──”

“You shameless bastard!”

The female warrior suddenly screamed. I was about to retort about why she was opening her eyes so wide when I noticed. Her pure white face had turned bright red.

No, fuck. Hearing it from a barbari-girl is really getting on my nerves.

If that’s how you feel, then don’t walk around naked, damn it.

I thought that, then despaired at how my internal monologue sounded like something a sexual predator would say. But if it was a miniskirt or a low-cut dress, fine. When someone’s walking around completely naked, how the hell am I supposed to handle my gaze? I can’t ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exactly look away from an opponent who’s attacking me.

What the hell is this? Some kind of all-weather passive MeToo attack? They’re about ten centuries ahead of their time. Maybe the real barbarians of this other world were us?

As I stood there stunned, searching for words, the female warrior spun and drew her sword. Wow. The anger-control-disorder dye’s effect was definitely real.

The Tarzan-man roared from behind, but Utrin—or Geborin, or whatever her name was—had already committed to the first strike. It was too late to stop. Of course, blocking it wasn’t difficult at all.

—Thud!

I raised my arm and guarded the blade. And honestly, I was genuinely shocked. I had only activated the Beast Regression mana ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coating on my arm, yet when her attack was blocked, the female warrior immediately followed up like lightning. She aimed for my side, the part the mana coating couldn’t protect.

I pondered for a split second and simply took the hit. I had already confirmed the attack’s power. It didn’t seem like it would injure me.

“Huak?!”

The naked woman gasped. She must have been shocked that her waist stab, which had avoided what looked like defensive magic, hadn’t worked at all.

“H-how!”

“It’s giant leather armor. I had a hard time piercing it myself.”

“Kyaaak─!”

I transformed my bracelet into a spear and struck her thigh. The naked female warrior let out a fierce, warrior-like scream. I had only hit her with the pole, so I didn’t understand why she was acting like she was dying.

“I’m pissed that I got hit first, but I’ll let it slide since it’s because of the drug.”

—Thud!

I struck the kneeling woman’s chin with the retrieved spear pole. I had only playfully stroked her with it like a broken mop during school cleaning duty, yet she immediately fainted.

If we ranked her as an adventurer, she’d probably be around Silver Class.

I’d heard that the average skill level of Ulster people was quite high. If a country bumpkin warrior living in a rural village was Silver Class, that statement made sense. In that case, the one who had been trying to stop Miss Geborin earlier was probably at least Gold Class.

My senses told me I didn’t particularly want to fight him, but after counterattacking, could this really be resolved with words?

—Piiiing!

Doesn’t seem likely. I thought that as I watched the incoming arrow. Just in case it was a powerful attack, I dodged while casually catching it. The arrowhead was a frighteningly sharpened iron tip. Good. The power wasn’t much.

“Exhibitionist uncle. Is this a toy arrow? It only hurts but doesn’t kill, right?”

“Uh… uh?”

“No? Then why the fuck are you shooting this into a person’s stomach, you son of a bitch.”

I threw the caught arrow back at the archer.

—Thwack!!

The arrow embedded itself up to the fletching right next to his head on the tree branch where he stood. I had tried incorporating the throwing technique from 【Gerthur】. I wasn’t sure if it came across as threatening. After all, these were the kind of people who shot arrows when their comrade was hit.

“……Hup!”

The Ulster warrior swallowed hard, but he seemed far more trained than the anger-disorder-afflicted Geborin. He didn’t show any disgrace and simply nocked a new arrow.

The Tarzan-man with the hardened face held his spear with a pained expression.

“……I’m sorry. One who knows the tongue of Erin. This time we have gone too far.”

“Really? I agree with that, but why are your words and actions completely separate? In this neighborhood, is pointing a spear your way of apologizing?”

“I have no excuse. It is true that we committed the wrong. However, we cannot easily back down here. As descendants of Erin, our pride is at stake.”

“Because you attacked first and lost?”

“It’s about not going back on one’s words. After declaring that we cannot let you pass, we cannot tuck our tails and run away.”

Was this the law of barbarians? It was a belief without compromise, but its violent nature made it easy to see why they were viewed so negatively.

In a world without respect for culture or room for compromise, suffering from people like this would definitely make them seem like complete assholes.

Especially if you got screamed at by naked dick-swingers. At that point, you’d at least want to badmouth them behind their backs.

I didn’t want to defend the barbarian trope, but I now understood the reason behind the discrimination.

“I will knock you down and drive you away! Receive the spear of Erin!”

The Tarzan-man lowered his spear and charged. I spun my spear like a windmill and prepared a counterattack.

It was then.

“Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuu──!!!”

A howling that didn’t sound human erupted from his mouth. My eyes widened. Was it because the pronunciation was impossible for human vocal cords? No. What surprised me was the wolf-like mana coating that rose along his arms and legs.

—Whoosh!

With a sound like a crossbow firing, the spear flew toward me. I unfolded the first form of 【Gerthur】’s counter technique. It was a method to block close-range cold weapons by swinging the spear. I wrapped around the opponent’s spear like a vine as it tried to change moves after seeing through my technique and deflected it away.

“Kuk!”

“Hmm.”

Since I had reflexively activated Beast Regression, the Tarzan-man, overpowered in strength, was forced to retreat. But I couldn’t pursue him any further. The enemy’s grip strength was stronger than it appeared.

He’s stronger than he looks.

It wasn’t like I had a scouter in my eyes, so I couldn’t accurately measure exactly how strong he was. Still, once you reached the level of a master, you could tell whether your opponent was powerful or just trash. In that sense, the Tarzan-man was emitting far more power than I had expected.

I scanned the mana constructs wrapped around his limbs with my eyes.

……It’s a little different. But similar.

There were a lot of people who knew Ulster’s secrets inside and out. I picked at my nose. It seemed I would keep running into unexpected encounters one after another in the place I had come to research the teleportation magic circle. It was a contact that would have been dangerous if either side had let their guard down even slightly or lacked skill.

Now I understand why the bastards who fought me got cocky and then got fucked over.

They probably saw me as a pushover and let their guard down. They looked at me like a newbie and tried to enjoy a clown show before teaching the rookie a lesson, only for that newbie to go “hoeeee” and land a full combo. Even if they hurriedly pulled themselves together to play seriously, after their mentality had been shattered, their ‘serious play’ would only be at that same level. At least that black magician unicorn bastard seemed to have been pushed back like that. Since I had been getting stronger little by little recently, the Tor impersonator bastard must have worn the electric armor from the very beginning.

“Haaap!!”

The Tarzan-man, apparently unable to recognize my Beast Regression, shouted a battle cry and attacked.

The outward appearance of Beast Regression is just body reinforcement magic anyway.

Even the Ulster expert Hairomain hadn’t recognized it, so there was no point expecting these people to. I poured power into my limbs to suppress him quickly and decisively.

I swung the spear I held upside-down three times in succession. Though not as refined as the attack Nefertiti had performed before, my spear flashed multiple times in the blink of an eye. It was an attack that cleverly deployed superior strength and speed through technique. You could call it pushing with raw specs.

—Crunch!

The Tarzan-man’s spear, lacking in strength, shattered and bounced away. As the blocking spear broke, he took ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠direct hits from the shaft to his leg and shoulder.

“Kraaaaak!!”

The Tarzan-man dropped to his knees as if struck in a vital point by a trained expert. Because his concentration had broken, the wolf shapes on his limbs vanished. Sure enough, this was different from Beast Regression.

Should I call it a degraded version of Beast Regression?

Did the output drop in exchange for greater versatility? I had used too much power because it was difficult to gauge its defense. It seemed that magic didn’t increase defensive power the way Beast Regression did.

“……To show mercy in your strikes. What are you thinking?”

The Tarzan-man asked. Even the person who had been hit would know that if I had used the blade, he would have become ta/zan/man.

I rested the spear shaft on my shoulder and answered.

“Why? It’s not like this is a fight to the death. Besides, it looks like we have a lot to talk about.”

“The loser has no right to argue. If my wisdom can substitute for death, I will gladly accept that fate.”

This part was pretty cool. I liked it. Feeling people starting to emerge from the carriage, I was about to ask more questions when I closed my mouth. Another unfamiliar presence had appeared.

What emerged from the forest was a woman with her eyes closed. She wore thin clothing, and the visible skin was densely covered in tattoos. What did you call that kind of outfit? A micro dress? At any rate, the Ulster people seemed to have an extreme preference for embarrassing attire.

She walks around the forest dressed like that? Did she want to tear her clothes like in those strip mahjong games from old PC bangs? Why the hell doesn’t our Dana have a hobby like that? If she walked around naked just inside our house, it would be insanely hot.

Anyway, the Ulster woman, who didn’t even seem to be wearing underwear as her perky breasts jiggled shamefully, spoke.

A chieftain wearing a micro dress. Maybe I should start wearing an eyepatch too. My head was already starting to hurt.