I Was Mistaken for a Monstrous Genius Barbarian Chapter 24: Wolf Blade (1)
Even faced with this completely unexpected situation, Balun's expression didn't change.
It was because the things he'd been through were far too tumultuous for him to show any sign of panic over something like this. How many desperate battles to the death had he fought? How many enemies had he cut down? Compared to that, this level of intimidation was child's play.
Balun told himself that. He had to, just to stay calm.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. A lie? Me?"
"That's right."
"What lie?"
"The lie about not commissioning Seria to make your gear."
The robed man continued.
"I'll give you a chance to explain yourself, you honorless barbarian. Go on, speak. I'm curious what you'll say."
Balun snorted. It was absurd.
Who the hell does this guy think he is, offering me a chance to explain?
"That wasn't a lie."
"What?"
As ridiculous as it was, Balun answered. Just maybe, words could resolve this.
The fact that the guy hadn't drawn his sword right away probably meant he intended to settle this like a gentleman.
"Balun really didn't lie. Didn't commission any gear."
The robed man's lips twisted.
"What a ridiculous barbarian. I just came from confirming that Seria's already started making your gear. People heard you talking to her, too. With all that evidence everywhere, you're still denying it?"
"You checked well. That's true. Seria agreed to make axes for Balun."
"Just as I thought... "
"But that wasn't a deal. It's a gift from Seria to Balun."
The robed man's eyebrows furrowed.
"A gift?"
"Yeah. Seria's Balun's friend. Balun's getting weapons as a gift from a friend."
From this moment on, Seria was a friend in Balun's heart. If she gave good weapons as a gift, that made her a friend, right?
"Is getting a gift wrong? Is that why you're doing this?"
"Pathetic tricks. You expect me to believe that?"
"If you believe it, what? If not, what? You'll let me go if you believe? Arrest me if not?"
"Believe or not, it doesn't matter. The moment you met Seria, you were already on Wolf Blade's bad side."
Balun let out a hollow laugh. What the hell? This scripted response.
"No one but us can do business with Seria. That's the order in Pordel."
"Why? You soldiers? Got authority?"
"Being soldiers doesn't make the rules. Those with power make the rules."
"You guys have power?"
"Yes."
"Then you beat the soldiers?"
"Isn't that obvious?"
Balun's mouth fell open slightly. What the hell is that confidence?
"Isn't that treason? Can I tell the lord?"
"Pointless. The lord has our backs. Obviously won't work."
"So your will is the lord's will? Harassing Grand Smith Seria and blocking her business is the lord's will? Intimidating the ten master craftsmen?"
"Exactly. Of course it... Uh."
The robed man trailed off, then shook his head vigorously. Why was he getting swayed by this barbarian's words?
"Don't distract with nonsense. The point is, you broke Pordel's order."
Balun clicked his tongue softly. Damn, almost had him.
"Reason doesn't matter. Fact is, Seria's making your gear."
"Then why ask? Wasn't it a meaningless question anyway?"
"Hoped for a valid excuse. But no. Just lame excuses."
The robed man smirked bitterly.
"What? That picky crazy bitch is making gear as a gift? You expect me to buy that?"
"Have to. It's true."
"Ridiculous."
No, it really is true. Have these guys lived their whole lives getting scammed?
"You tricked us. Deserve to die. No one will mourn a savage barbarian anyway."
"......"
"Take him."
The robed man gestured. The customers who'd been sipping beer on the first floor rose quietly, eyeing Balun. They wore the same robes. Hands moved to sword hilts hidden under the folds.
Same gang, huh. No wonder their outfits looked similar.
"Heh."
Balun laughed.
"Why laugh?"
"Absurd."
So absurd he couldn't help chuckling.
"Balun just wanted weapons. But you try to kill Balun. That right?"
"Don't know? Then die. That's the way of the world."
"Way of the world. Way."
Irritation bubbled up at those words, surging wildly. Frustration exploded, grating his nerves.
Why the hell do I have to deal with assholes like this?
He'd just been trying to live diligently, yet death's shadow kept looming endlessly. Balun felt so wronged.
He wanted to ask: What grudge does this damn world have against me?
Racial discrimination? Fine, he got that. Barbarian hate had as long a history as any. He'd endure.
Almost kidnapped? Could happen in this savage world.
To avoid it, Balun got stronger. That's why he sought new weapons.
But what? Commissioning a blacksmith is a crime?
Then what am I supposed to do? Not get stronger?
Fight barehanded every time Reinforcement Technique wrecked his weapons? Seriously?
Fine, he'd endure that too. That's why he was about to give up and leave. Life was more precious.
But now they wanted his life too?
"Fuck this."
Balun finally spat the curse. No other way to vent the rage.
Strength surged through his body involuntarily. He couldn't contain the rising excitement. It drowned out the coward's fear completely.
"Way of the world. Sounds good."
Thud!
Muttering that, Balun stomped his right foot hard. Mana dormant in his muscles exploded, distributing power. The ground trembled finely; tables and chairs shook. People in the inn staggered.
"Wha—?"
"What the...?"
Balun yanked a hand axe from his belt and hurled it. The robed man dodged nimbly. In that instant, Balun charged.
The robed man drew his sword, thrusting at Balun. Balun's forearms bulged thickly. He grabbed the extended blade barehanded and squeezed.
With a deafening crack, the sword snapped.
"Crazy!"
The robed man panicked for the first time. No one expected bare hands to break a sword.
Who grabs a thrust blade? And breaks it? No one thinks that far.
"Don't know? Die—that's the way, right? Back at you."
"You... what strength..."
"Don't know? Die."
Splat!
Balun's fist smashed the robed man's face. A watermelon-burst sound; a hole punched through his skull.
Thud!
He collapsed without proper resistance.
"......!"
"......!"
The room fell silent. Horror filled every eye. Punching through a face?
"No gear? Bullshit! Balun doesn't yield!"
"......"
"No one forces Balun! Red Fang warrior doesn't bow to injustice! Balun fights back!"
Balun bellowed thunderously, tiger-like roar echoing outside the inn.
"Anyone? Only cowards? Is that all Wolf Blade has?!"
"What are you doing? Attack!"
"Yes sir!"
A rear man drew a long harpoon-like weapon, aiming. Even in fury, Balun realized: Wait, that's...?
Whoosh!
A net shot from the harpoon, enveloping Balun. Too fast to dodge.
"Tighten it!"
The shooter cranked the lever hard; the net constricted. Balun thrashed wildly but couldn't budge.
Balun gathered all his strength. Forearms thickened further.
"Phew, got him."
"Didn't think we'd need this..."
One man's words cut off. His eyes widened at the unbelievable sight.
Balun tore the net with raw power.
Riiip!
With bulging arms ripping full force, the man toppled backward in shock.
"Insane! How with brute force?!"
This was a monster-capture net harpoon. Not for humans. Troll-level strength minimum.
"Don't capture—kill him! Kill!"
The apparent leader screamed. Fear-driven, but it provoked the beast.
Balun charged. The man swung wildly in panic. Balun ducked easily, slamming a fist into his chest.
Thump!
The man shuddered violently, collapsing. Not dead—Balun held back intentionally. Face-piercing power drained stamina too much.
Of course, enemies didn't know. Trembling in fear of such attacks.
"Damn it!"
"Barbarian bastard, you'll pay!"
Terrorized swordsmen fled for their lives.
Left: warm corpses, groaning wounded. Even they staggered away eventually.
Balun didn't pursue.
In the end, I did it.
Balun sighed deeply. No choice. Rage boiled over.
If options remained, he'd held back—but only one: fight.
Rip!
Balun tore cloth from a corpse, wiping bloodied face. He tossed 2 gold to the trembling innkeeper in the corner.
"Sorry. Caused trouble. Take this."
"N-no, it's fine! No need!"
"No. Broke chairs. Buy new."
"Th-thank you!"
"Can you heat water? Want to bathe."
"Yes!"
The innkeeper bowed, pocketing coins, vanished through a side door.
Balun sat on a nearby chair, thinking.
War now, inescapably.
Killed Wolf Blade members—enemies made. Had to fight them.
Running still possible, but...
No running.
Mind changed.
More incidents ahead. Can't run every time.
Balun wanted good home, good food—not fugitive life. Why live in fear?
And above all: weapons. Couldn't give up.
Screw it. Face it. What's impossible?
Balun clenched his fist. He'd won countless wars. Feared among Great Plains warriors—that was him.
What to fear in this world?
Ah, still hate it. Honestly scared.
"S-sir. Water's ready."
Innkeeper's voice snapped Balun's reverie. He nodded, heading to wash—then another voice.
"S-so cool."
"Huh?"
The innkeeper's.
"Killing that Derek bastard. Felt so good."
What's this? Balun turned; innkeeper continued.
"Truth, I wanted to kill him first. Couldn't, so resented... Felt great. Sincere."
The scarred-face guy's name was Derek, huh. Scars gone now.
"Why satisfying? He bully you?"
"Yes. Everyone doing business in Pordel suffered from them. Real bastards."
Innkeeper pressed on.
"Who are they to demand tribute? Not even the lord!"
"Paying taxes?"
"Yes! Say smash shop if no protection fee—what to do? Pay!"
Explains the anger on his face.
"Guards? Say nothing?"
"Yes. Doesn't work. Same gang."
Got it. Balun nodded. Place riddled with corruption.
Why same gang? Bribes? Family business? Relatives running guild?
"Same for that elf blacksmith. What'd she do wrong? Why harass her?"
No trace of earlier fear; innkeeper ranted excitedly. Balun thought:
Real scum, huh. Even small merchants hate them this much.
Who cheers a monster who killed in front otherwise?
Well, double taxation would piss me off too.
"Anyway, sir. Be careful. They won't let it slide. Better run now. I know a rat hole—can guide."
"Balun no run."
Stop tempting. Might change mind.
"Balun strong. Balun wins. Balun beats all."
"Ooh!"
Lie. No confidence. City powers—how beat alone?
Sigh. Shouldn't have? Just skipped?
Despite overwhelming display, Balun's guts twisted rotten.
"Mercenary sir! Fight on! We cheer!"
No, don't cheer. Just makes heart heavy.
"Haha! Trust Balun! Escape double-tax hell!"
Against hopeful eyes, acting weak too embarrassing. Balun boasted loudly instead.