Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Grassland Barbarian (4)
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From head to toe, something hot enveloped me. It was the first excruciating pain I'd felt since gaining this sturdy body. I couldn't even breathe properly.
KWAANG—!
But pain was just pain—it couldn't stop my efforts to smash through the gates. After all, the Ancestral Power I possessed had been prepared precisely for moments like this.
By consuming part of the prey I'd personally hunted down, I could use their abilities and traits. Aiter had called this power Soul Devour.
Each rune etched into my body contained the strength of the magic beasts I'd hunted so far. When the second rune—the form of the blazing serpent known as Crawling Fire—began to glow, I could keep swinging my axe even against the flames pouring down from the ramparts.
KWAANG—!
The blazing axe blade sank into the gate once more. Through the sensation in my fingertips, I could feel cracks forming in the iron-plated timber. They seemed better prepared than in previous years, but after six years of invading the Empire, I already had a solid grasp of their capabilities.
The soldiers themselves were as brave as could be, but their commanders—who should have been drawing out that valor—were strangely incompetent. Their skills were more than sufficient against other grassland warriors, but utterly inadequate against me.
With each passing year, they grew weaker. And we grew stronger in turn.
Harald had taken my advice and married the daughters of neighboring chieftains. The Stonegar Tribe, once a minor clan on the plains, had now become a considerable force within the tribal alliance.
With Stonegar at the core, we unified tribes with disparate disciplines and fighting styles, forging a combat prowess incomparable to before. Some tribes still grumbled, but with me at Harald's side, they didn't dare act out.
The sole warrior on the plains who could single-handedly weather the enemy's onslaught and breach the gates. Raising my axe again, I now drew forth the Ancestral Power from the first rune.
Moving Mountain.
Infusing my entire body with the power of that great plains magic beast—which crushed all obstacles in its path with rock-like solidity—I swung the axe with all my might one final time. At last, the fortress-like gates shattered open with a thunderous roar.
KWAAAAANG———!
"Ivar's breached the gates!!!"
"Warriors, charge without hesitation!"
"Doomhelm calls to us!!"
As if they'd been waiting for this moment, the warriors surged forward like a school of sardines, splitting left and right around me. The Empire's soldiers inside the walls raised their shields just as eagerly.
I didn't join them on the battlefield. After years of this grueling war, I'd found my true role.
Sitting amid the blazing earth, I used the tattered gate as a chair and waited for the one opponent who would surely come.
"Even borrowing the hand of that filthy black mage wasn't enough to leave a scratch on you."
"I could feel I was alive. It was a decent warm-up before facing you."
As a snowflake—retaining its form even amid the violet flames—settled on my shoulder, a woman emerged from within the fortress, her gaze as coldly unwavering as ever.
It was the Winter Witch. Raising my axe toward her—whose name I still didn't know—I issued my sixth challenge.
"I am Ivar, son of Wolfhead and proud warrior of the Stonegar Tribe. State your name, warrior."
"Monstrous barbarian scum. My answer is always the same."
Names mean nothing to you or me— With those words, she summoned a blizzard onto the battlefield.
When our crystal-clear spear and bloodied axe blade clashed, those around us gradually backed away. They knew full well that staying close wouldn't help—in fact, it'd just get them caught in the crossfire.
When winter comes, the barbarians invade the Empire. While she and I hold each other in check, our forces engage in a brutal game of take and retake.
It was a perfect balance that seemed eternal. But nothing in this world remained unchanged.
The crack began where it was closest.
"Hraaah!"
"Tch."
In our first encounter, I couldn't even twitch a finger until she melted the ice. But that young warrior was gone. Cloaked in living flame, I pressed my assault fiercely even within the blizzard.
The terrifying thing about the Winter Witch was that, despite her ever-shifting abilities, her own martial prowess was exceptional. She altered the terrain and climate, raining down ice crystals from all sides like supporting artillery, conjuring countless spears to target vital points.
Amid the thrill of battle on this frozen killing field—where every attack was lethal—I felt a pang of pity. I'd grown stronger, but the Winter Witch had not.
I didn't need to ask why. She had too much to protect.
I'd relentlessly hunted the plains' magic beasts, adding more runes to my body. But she had no foes worth risking her life against. The uniform she wore was likely fixed for handling the flood of paperwork and being dragged to social events as a military officer.
"Ugh...!"
Having lived six very different years, the gap that had been closing between us was now widening again. My axe blade lodged in an ice wall like a crystal boulder. When I followed with a fist strike, her defense shattered, and for the first time, she fell.
It was a mere bruise on her knee, but we both felt the scales of balance tipping with that single blow.
Without hesitation, I aimed for her fallen throat. Showing half-hearted mercy wasn't respect for a warrior—it was granting her a proper end.
Blood flowed from the Winter Witch's pale, slender neck. But her head didn't come off. She'd frozen the wounded area to seal it.
I glanced at my axe blade, now chipped beyond use. This was it, then. I'd surpassed her for a moment, but not enough to kill. After a brief silence, I pointed toward the walls and asked,
"What lies beyond those walls?"
"What?"
The battle that began at dawn stretched into the night. Feeling more fatigued than usual, I realized the days were growing longer. Winter was nearly over.
"Behind the walls you're defending."
Drums and war horns sounded from both sides—a signal for withdrawal and retreat. At my question, she stared blankly for a moment before unleashing fury from the depths of her dantian.
"You've gone from trampling to coveting now."
Her unyielding defiance, unbroken even in defeat—like a flower frozen in ice—made me, for the first time, not want to shatter her.
"No barbarian like you will ever set foot in Empire territory, not even after dirt fills my eyes."
"We'll see..."
But it was already too late. The Winter Witch was no longer my equal.
At most, one more year. Next winter, when the snow melted and piled again. If she stood against me once more with my sixth rune complete, she would surely shatter into pieces.
"You got lucky this time, civilized one."
"Grk...!"
I showed her the axe, now little more than an iron club, and threw back the words she'd said at our first meeting. Knights on horseback rushed in to protect their fallen supreme commander, swinging their swords desperately. But when the first rune glowed, they scattered like fallen leaves.
"Follow me, and I'll kill you."
"...!!"
Having cleared the area, I issued a warning to the Empire soldiers and headed toward our camp where the tribesfolk were gathered. We'd seized plenty of supplies, so tonight we could finally have a proper meal instead of magic beast meat.
Not a single soldier attacked my back. Only after I'd put some distance did they finally rush to the fallen Winter Witch.
And right then, carried on the mountain winds, I overheard their conversation.
—Lady Serath! Are you alright?
—Wagner, we're still at war. I told you not to use my name...
—The barbarians have retreated. It might have filthy poison on it—hurry and treat the wound...
—It's just a scratch.
Filthy poison? I wouldn't hesitate to use such underhanded tricks in a fair fight, but acquiring a lethal toxin potent enough for a powerhouse like the Winter Witch was a hassle.
Our weapons were cold steel anyway—what if an ally got poisoned while swinging? Especially since antidotes were hard to mass-produce, even asking the shamans.
The plains only grew tough, resilient plants. I wasn't growing miraculous herbs in an icy garden behind a mansion like Serath...
Wait. Serath?
The moment I heard that name, information about her flooded my mind—like a memory implanted from nowhere. It wasn't the experiential knowledge I'd gained on the plains; it was faint now, even at my fingertips.
It was written knowledge, gleaned from thin pages in a sunlit café.
"Brother, you're finally back! The other tribes have left. We should prepare to head out too..."
"Hm? Why aren't you lowering your weapons?"
"Ivar, are you hurt?"
"Ivar?"
Serath.
Serath Icefern.
Supreme Commander of the Northern Defense Army's 9th Legion, one of the Empire's three unique elemental mages. Always with a cold gaze and curt speech, valuing restraint and discipline—but unwaveringly loyal to those she trusted, even if betrayed.
"Shamans of the fortress! Ivar's acting strange."
"What's wrong, Chieftain?"
"He's been frozen like stone since returning from battle. Must be the Winter Witch's vile sorcery!"
"Hmm..."
"Any solutions, sisters of Aiter?"
"Shall we dunk him in water first?"
She loved the warmth of the fireplace blooming in her pine-scented office. She despised the Empire's debauched nobility.
Her most treasured possessions: her late father's family crest and the soldiers who followed only her... glug glug.
—He's sinking nicely. The Eternal Lake lives up to its name.
—What if Ivar drowns like this?
—H-He'll be fine. With the talisman I gave him, he can breathe underwater...
—Aiter? You gave that to Ivar!?
It wasn't just Serath. The Empire. The northern barbarians. Even the top-tier magic beasts called "lords." And the people beyond the walls I hadn't met yet, glimpsed only in passing illustrations.
All of them were from the novel I'd read. And what all this pointed to was crystal clear.
—How long's it been?
—Three hours. Time to fish him out...
—H-Heavy...! The rope's waterlogged!
—Hold on, I'll call the tribe's warriors.
Which meant the world I'd been living in wasn't just some random isekai...
"Finally got him out."
"Ivar! You with us?"
"..."
"Ivar?"
...It was a romance fantasy novel?