Chapter 16
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: The Birth of the Horrific Hybrid
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The oasis night was deep, but the fire in my tent burned steadily.
I had gathered the command staff for a meeting to pursue the goal I decided on yesterday.
Aila pointed at the map with her finger and spoke coldly.
"I'll get straight to the point. It's impossible with our current forces."
"Hm, as expected, it's tough?"
Aila nodded.
"The Desert Orcs of the Red Canyon aren't simple beasts. They hunt in packs, led by a chieftain. Their numbers alone are at least three times ours."
Magra chimed in.
"That's right. Karack occasionally slips across the border and takes the heads of stragglers or scouts... but touching their main force would leave us with nothing but bones."
I let out a groan.
"Hmmm..."
For the third-stage tattoo, 'Imprints,' Desert Orc fangs were essential.
The orc head Karack had been carrying when we first met was actually the result of his solo hunt to gather those materials.
But even if I grew stronger alone, I couldn't win a war by myself.
The entire tribe needed to grow stronger.
'The individual might of us barbarians rivals the empire's elite soldiers. But...'
The problem was 'organization.'
The empire conquered the continent not because individuals were strong.
It was thanks to their perfect organizational system: shields forming a wall, spears thrusting forward, arrows raining from behind.
Us barbarians? We just charged in screaming 'Uwaaaah!' and turned it into a chaotic melee.
Of course, that unpredictability and ferocity were our strengths, but against regular troops, the limits were clear.
'I need to mix it up.'
Combine the barbarians' overwhelming physicality and surprise...
With the empire's systematic role assignments?
We might surpass the imperial regulars someday, but for now, at least in this southern region, we'd birth an unrivaled strongest army—a true 'horrific hybrid.'
My heart pounded.
I looked at Aila and asked.
"What about shamanism? Can't we use any wide-area attacks or buffs suitable for war?"
"It's possible. But..."
Aila looked troubled.
"It requires enormous money and materials. And above all, we lack 'talent.' Shamans are born, not made."
"Money's not an issue yet. The problem is the talent..."
I pondered for a moment, then made my decision.
"Alright. For now, we'll squeeze every resource we have. Assemble everyone tomorrow."
The next morning.
Not just the 300 warriors, but every tribe member except the children gathered in the training grounds.
A full tribal assembly left everyone looking puzzled.
I stepped onto the platform and declared.
"From this moment, we are reorganizing the Grom Kel tribe's 'force structure'!"
Confusion flickered across the tribe members' faces.
"Force... structure?"
"No more freeloaders in Grom Kel from now on. Everyone will work in their assigned role. Simply put, stop acting on your own whims and do your job in the position I've given you! Those who don't work, don't eat!"
I began sorting them by planting pre-prepared flags.
"First, we'll solidify non-combat support. You fight better on a full stomach and good rest."
I pointed at the elders and those skilled with their hands.
"First: 'Engineering Corps.' You'll help the kingdom's engineers build structures, haul bricks, repair weapons. You're vital to building our territory's foundation."
Next, I pointed at the women and those good at cooking.
"Second: 'Kitchen Corps.' Warriors can't fight on empty stomachs. Don't skimp on magic stones—stoke the fires and make every meal hot and nutritious."
Most non-warriors—the too-young, elders, women—volunteered.
It was just refining what they already did.
"The Engineering Corps and Kitchen Corps will work within the tribe normally! Understood?!"
"Yes!!"
Their response was thunderous. This was one thing barbarians excelled at.
Then I planted six pre-prepared flags.
"Our goal is the orc horde in Red Canyon. To take them down, we must change."
I pointed to the first flag.
"First: 'Shield Division.' You'll take the enemy's attacks at the forefront, forming a wall for allies. Big guys, tough, and above all, those who won't retreat even in death. Step forward."
Murmurs rose.
To barbarians, shields symbolized cowards. No one stepped up readily.
So I added an explanation.
"Scared of dying? Shield Division stands at the vanguard, protecting comrades—highest risk role. It's the position closest to the honorable death you all love! Afraid now? Cowards!?"
Then, the tallest man in the group, covered head to toe in scars, stepped forward silently.
He was the quiet one who just trained without much talk.
"...I'll do it."
"Name?"
"Urkan."
"Why volunteer? You said shields are for cowards."
To my taunt, Urkan replied flatly.
"You just said it, Kel Bark: protect comrades from the front. That's my honor."
Oh, not bad...
And those scars... proof he'd survived every ordeal. He knew the value of defense.
"Approved. Urkan, from today, you're 'Shield Captain.' Pick 50 big guys and take them."
"Understood."
Urkan lifted a tower shield as tall as a man effortlessly with one hand. Felt like a sturdy wall had formed.
"Second: 'Spear Division.' Dealers who cut enemy throats from behind the shields. Sharp-eyed, quick-handed, nasty-tempered guys."
Again, they just eyed each other.
"This Spear Division kills the most enemies! Those craving kills and honor, step up!!"
With that shout, a lean but fierce-eyed youth leaped forward.
Lean compared to other barbarians—not to me, though.
Delker, with a scar crossing one eye.
"No need to cleave foes in half with axes! Just thrust this long spear—enough to drop them dead!"
Saying that, I tossed him a spear.
Delker caught the 3-meter longspear and thrust sharply at the air.
Whoosh!
The air whistled keenly.
I grinned at Delker.
Among weapons, spears were among the easiest to learn.
For these guys versed in crude arms, handling spears would be no trouble.
"How's it feel?"
"Long..."
"Yeah, long! That's why you kill more, safer, from farther away!"
Delker grinned wickedly.
"Heh, with this, my spear pierces their throats before their axes reach me."
"Spot on. I like you. Delker, you're 'Spear Captain.' Pick 100 vicious ones."
"Kuhahaha... I can kill even more now..."
Delker laughed menacingly, gripping the spear.
This guy's a bit dangerous...
Well... we'll watch him for now...
The reorganization continued.
"Third: 'Archer Division.' Harass and support enemies from range."
No need to think.
"Batu."
"...Your orders."
Batu stepped forward from the shadows like a ghost. His archery as hunt leader was already tribe-best.
"No explanation needed. Take 50 sharp-eyed guys and practice target shooting."
Batu nodded silently.
"Fourth: 'Assault Division.' Sweep broken enemy lines, dive into the deadliest spots—mad dogs."
This was set too.
"Karack!"
"Kraahaha!! Been waiting!!"
Karack roared, raising his twin axes.
"Real men use axes! I'll smash 'em all!"
"Yeah. Just do your thing. But don't charge till my signal. Got it? Your goal: create chances for spears to shine max. Understood?"
"Leave it to me!! I'll be Kel Bark's axe!"
The mightiest force group: 100 Assault Division under Karack formed.
"Fifth: 'Shaman Division.' Heal allies, curse enemies."
Shamanism favored women for precise mana control.
Aila was captain naturally, but she was too busy with tribe internals and advising me.
We needed a field commander.
"Anyone? Someone who knows shamanism."
Then.
"...May I, humbly, step forward?"
A low, husky voice came from the crowd's rear shadows.
Warriors parted like the Red Sea.
A woman from the recently absorbed Yagur tribe.
But her aura was extraordinary.
Her black hair fluttered in the desert night breeze.
Long straight hair to her waist, skin pale and alien for a barbarian.
And over her leather garb, curves so voluptuous they stole breath.
As she walked, a thick, musky scent like incense spread.
"Name?"
"Lunia, my king."
She approached right before me, kneeling with elegant, seductive grace.
Her upturned gaze was dangerously predatory yet mesmerizingly alluring.
"You slaughtered that pig, freeing me."
Lunia placed her pale hand on my leather boot.
Her fingertips trembled faintly.
"That day, I saw you roaring, drenched in blood. Ahh..."
A hot sigh escaped her red lips.
"My heart nearly burst. That overwhelming strength, that cruel beauty..."
Lunia slowly lowered her head, kissing the top of my foot.
Wet, hot sensation seeped through the leather.
"My body, soul, and humble shamanism—all yours. Use me as your tool. Kissing your feet satisfies me fully."
Overt seduction, blind devotion.
Warriors around swallowed dryly.
Aila's expression beside me chilled.
I rested my chin, looking down at Lunia.
'This woman's insane...'
Dangerous. But powerful mana emanated from her.
Like a poisoned chalice, but wielded right, the ultimate weapon.
"Good. Lunia, you're 'Shaman Division Vice-Captain.' Lead shamans under Aila."
"As you command, my master."
Lunia rose with a seductive smile.
"Perhaps... tonight, need help relieving fatigue? I know a very special massage..."
Her fingers brushed my thigh.
"...No need."
"Hehe... Understood. Waiting is joy too."
Lunia licked her lips regretfully but retreated politely backward.
Even her back oozed allure.
Should've said yes? Who knows, maybe just a clean massage?
I shook my head.
Seen too many guys ruined by women in back alleys.
Anyway, secured a powerful healer and buffer.
Finally, the last one.
"Last: War runs on food. 'Supply Division.'"
As crucial as combat—maybe more.
Barbarians often starved without supply, relying on plunder.
Regular armies differed.
"Monta!"
"Yees? Monta here, Kel Bark!"
Monta, the massive bear-like man munching a fist-sized rice ball in the corner, looked up.
His plump belly contrasted his innocent smile.
But on his back was a steel backpack big enough for three rice sacks.
"You like eating, right?"
"Yes! Monta loves eating most! Meat from Kel Bark yummy! Honey good too!"
"Good. You're Supply Captain. Manage food, supplies, transport. Guard the granary—no one touches it. Lose it, you starve too."
"Monta guard food? No one steals? Crush anyone who tries!"
Monta's eyes gleamed like a beast's.
Mission to protect his food. No better motivation for him.
Plus, Monta endured hunger surprisingly well. Though his gut rumbled thunderously and drool flowed.
"Yeah. Guard your food yourself."
"Hehe! Got it! Monta Food Captain!"
Thus, six captains and six divisions.
Grom Kel tribe's reorganization complete.
I raised Kel Kar high, eyeing the now military-like ranks in the training grounds.
"This is your new name, your role!"
The warriors' eyes changed.
Not just new weapons.
With defined roles, subordinates to lead, true belonging—they now blended ferocity and intellect in their gazes.
"We're no mere raiders now. We are a legion!"
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
"Kel Bark! Kel Bark! Kel Bark!"
Cheers shook the oasis.
The monster legion born: barbarian physical dominance fused with kingdom systems.
"Training starts! Mess up formations, no dinner tonight!"
"Yes sir!!!"
The southern conquest's prelude began.