Chapter 149
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: The Exploded Bomb
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On Earth, the alcohol made by nomads is usually fermented milk from livestock like horses, sheep, or camels.
But here in the Origin World, the nomads mostly brew their booze from the milk of "Beltergers"—extremely bizarre and grotesque creatures.
And it's not just for alcohol, either.
Beltergers are livestock with literally no waste.
Their long, dense, tough fur and abundant feathers are used for clothing, armor, saddles, tents, and more.
Their strangely plump, fatty flesh provides daily sustenance for the nomads, their bones become yurt frames or decorations, and their horns and tendons are fashioned into bow staves and strings.
Slower than horses but rideable in a pinch, docile, and thriving by eating dirt without any special care—they grow anywhere on their own.
Truly all-purpose livestock, as if born solely to be exploited.
"...Hmm. Up close, it's a bit gross."
However, Beltergers inexplicably sicken and die upon entering certain countries or cities, and no one has ever figured out why.
Of course, I knew the reason, thanks to my knowledge of the setting lore.
"Guu, guruk...?"
The beast god Kubel had created the Belterger as a penalty for losing a bet to a barbarian warrior, all for the sake of the nomads.
With a cow's body, a pig's head, chicken wings, and an anteater's tongue, this creature existed purely through divine power—so it inevitably died anywhere that power didn't reach.
"You've had it rough, huh."
"Guruk...?"
The Belterger let out a bizarre cry from its plump pig head and tilted its own in confusion.
Despite its massive bulk, that pure, dumb expression somehow made it seem kinda cute.
"Here you are, Incarnation."
"...Latipi."
I turned at the excessively polite voice to see Latipi bowing with one hand over her chest.
Small and adorable... but her formality was so intense it put pressure on me to match it.
"What's up?"
"Um... Charhela is looking for you, Incarnation."
"Yeah?"
I'd slipped away because I didn't want to mingle with the sweaty barbarian warriors, didn't care to ease their fear and awkwardness toward me, and wanted to avoid the weird looks from Weller, Lira, and the others.
...And honestly, I'd figured Weller and Lira would be the first to track me down if I was alone like this.
"Sigh... alright. I'll go."
"Yes."
"What about the others? Enjoying the festival?"
"Yes."
"Hmm. They must be getting along pretty well. Makes sense—barbarian warriors aren't the type to hold grudges..."
Once you bonded with them, there were few as fun and boisterous.
But with all the suspicions hanging over me, that just wasn't an option.
"...What about you? Having fun?"
"I... yes. I am."
It was obvious she wasn't enjoying it and was forcing positivity, so I let out a chuckle.
Were elves and barbarian warriors just a bad mix? Even I didn't know.
"Ah, by the way, Latipi."
"Yes. What is it?"
"From now on, don't call me Incarnation. Just Alzen."
"...Understood."
She wore a complicated expression for a moment but soon nodded calmly.
"Why the face? Something bothering you?"
"No. It's... nothing... um..."
Mid-sentence, she clamped her mouth shut with a conflicted look and cautiously gauged my reaction.
"What? Spit it out."
"...My apologies."
"No need for apologies."
"I heard everything from your duel with Charhela."
"...I figured."
I'd suspected as much from the group's reactions, but it seemed Kubel's power barrier hadn't blocked sound.
And if Latipi had heard... that meant everyone else had too.
"Ha..."
My head was already throbbing.
It was a bomb that was gonna blow eventually, but how was I supposed to explain this to Nemes and Arpe?
And Weller and Lira were an even bigger problem.
Up until now, Weller had implicitly avoided mentioning or confirming that I wasn't Starnassila Alzen but some stranger—but now she'd heard it straight out, undeniable.
And Lira was probably the most confused of the bunch right now.
She'd known nothing about my background at all.
"......"
Come to think of it, Vivian was an issue too.
I wondered how she'd interpreted my conversation with Charhela...
"Sigh..."
I might have to brace for the worst-case scenario.
...Maybe that's why Weller and Lira hadn't come looking for me alone.
"So, what about it?"
"Well..."
"Feeling weird about it? Some other human possessing this body?"
"Yes!? Ah, no! That's not it! Absolutely not!"
She shook her head and hands frantically in panic, then rushed to continue.
"I-I just wanted to ask if I could call you by your true name!"
"...True name? Like Kang Han-gil?"
"Yes, yes! May I please use that name?"
"Doesn't matter... nah, never mind. Just stick to Alzen."
"Eut... yes, yes... understood."
I chuckled at how quickly she deflated.
"Not trying to keep distance from you, so don't make that face. It's just that my identity leaking would cause a ton of trouble."
"Ah... I see. Yes, that makes sense. I was short-sighted."
After a moment's thought, she ventured carefully.
"Then... when we're alone like now, could I call you Han-gil?"
"Sure. Oh, and note that Kang's the family name, Han-gil's the given—so just Han-gil."
"Yes! Han-gil!"
Her face lit up with a beaming smile so bright I couldn't help but pat her head.
"Haat, uht...!"
If she'd had a tail, it would've been wagging like crazy.
The festival was rowdy and festive.
Rough, heavy music boomed as people chugged Belterger milk booze and laughed uproariously.
True to form for barbarian warriors, the center featured endlessly sparring drunken fighters.
"Kahahahaha! Come at me!"
"Too damn tame!!"
Whether you could call sprays of blood and flesh "sparring" was debatable, but aside from that bizarre spectacle, the vibe was pretty fun.
The group was enjoying it too.
Murel, Rebecca, and Wendy sat together drinking; Nemes, Lira, and Kachiolla sparred with the barbarian warriors; Vivian and Sisili trailed after Weller, sightseeing; Arpe watched the barbarian musicians with interest; and Rampon Pashut sat beside me, devouring food and booze like a sponge.
"Puhuu..."
But the occasional glances my way—mixed with worry, suspicion, concern, and anxiety—kept stirring my heart.
I drank while taking in the whole scene.
The Belterger milk booze was genuinely excellent.
The milk-white, creamy liquid had a thick texture without a single bubble, yet it went down smooth without being heavy or bitter.
And there were plenty of varieties.
Distilled spirits from the booze, plus infusions aged with whole snakes, bees, fruits, plant roots, or peels.
"Drinking heartily, eh? Suits your taste?"
"Yeah? Ah... yeah. Pretty good."
That's when Charhela sidled up and offered a bowl piled high with meat.
A quick glance showed the barbarian warriors secretly watching, eyes gleaming.
"...No need for this kind of consideration."
"Huh? No clue what you mean. Anyway, don't just booze—eat some snacks. This stuff's amazing!"
"Hmm, Belterger meat too?"
"Yep. A rare delicacy you can't get in the Empire."
"......"
I picked up a piece of boiled-meat-looking chunk and popped it in my mouth.
"...Oh."
Oily umami bloomed richly across my tongue like a dance.
And curiously, Belterger meat wasn't just one flavor.
Each chew brought pork, chicken, beef... even hints of fish, all blending naturally and harmoniously enough to draw a wry laugh.
That single bite was hands-down the best meat I'd ever tasted in my past or present life.
"No special seasoning on this?"
"Nope. Just plain boiled Belterger meat."
"What a blessed beast... Kubel really nailed this one."
"...Huh? What're you on about? Why's Kubel coming up?"
I waved it off as her face stiffened.
"Not an insult—just pure admiration. As you know, Beltergers were made by Kubel himself, right? So..."
"Wh-whaaaat~!? The Belterger was a beast created by Lord Kubel!? For real!?"
Her high-pitched yell sliced through the festival like a spear.
"...What?"
"What'd the Great Chieftain just say?"
Even the merry music halted as every eye turned our way.
"...You didn't know?"
"How would I!? There's no ancient records!"
Ah, right—nomads wouldn't keep those.
"For real!? You're not just making it up!?"
"Why the hell would I invent that?"
"Then how do you... wait! Those rumors—you're a prophet, an incarnation or something. That true!?"
"Nah, but I know a bunch."
"...Ho, anything else?"
"Else? Like what?"
"Kubel myths! Stuff handed down since he made it!"
"...Know a few? Like how the Belterger was created..."
"Tell me! Right now! Hey! Scribe! Over here! Hurry!"
Her eyes sparkling, Charhela shot up a hand and beckoned someone.
A somewhat scrawny guy—not very barbarian-like, maybe 350 strength at best(?—rushed over and whipped out paper and pen, ready to jot notes.
"...What's this?"
"Our scribe! I've been putting effort into this stuff lately."
"Heh..."
I blankly stared at the man dubbed "scribe," caught off guard.
I knew Charhela would become queen of the barbarian kingdom, but I hadn't expected her to be laying foundations already.
"Alright, spill. How was the Belterger made?"
"Hmm, well, see..."
Recalling the setting lore, I spun a long tale of a wandering barbarian receiving trials from the god Kubel to aid the pitiful nomads on barren lands.
But as the story went on, barbarian warriors started gathering around me one by one—until they formed a suffocating crowd, bawling their eyes out.
Wow, totally killed my drinking mood.