Chapter 152: Barbarian Chief (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 152: Barbarian Chief (4)
"Ah, uh... um..."
After staring blankly at the wild brainwashing scene for a while, I came to my senses and entered the village. To be honest, the word "village" was misleading. The barbarians' holy land was closer to a campsite. Tents were pitched anywhere, without distinction between your land and mine. After passing through that, I headed straight to the shaman's tent. It wasn't like I didn't know the location at this point, so I decided that there was no need to set up a meeting through the chieftain.
What, no one's here?
When I opened the shaman's tent, it was empty. In the end, I had no choice but to go to the chieftain's tent anyway. But in a twist, there was no one in the chief's tent either. Even if the chieftain wasn't there, the elders usually took turns overseeing it.
The heck?
As I was walking around in front of it, an elder I had seen a few times before found me. "Bjorn, son of Yandel? Are you also here to attend the funeral?"
There was no need to ask whose funeral it was. It had been exactly half a year since Ainar had been locked away in the holy land.
"...It's already that day."
"It is an honor to leave something behind for future generations."
After asking where the funeral was being held, I headed straight there, to a dark, desolate forest. I had traveled for about thirty minutes when I spotted the barbarians gathered in its depths with solemn expressions on their faces. There were the shaman and chieftain, as well as some familiar elders. Well, the first person I noticed was someone else, though.
"Ainar."
Ainar stood there listlessly, leaning against a thick tree as she stared intently at the corpse of her master. "...Bjorn?" Ainar's eyes were blank as she said my name. Then, as I drew nearer, she bit her lip. "If I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have done it."
She hadn't known. I thought for sure they would have told her.
"...Bjorn, did you know?"
"Yes."
The training that Ainar had been undergoing for six months was called "Forging" among the barbarians, the process of training someone to develop a certain build. In the game, when you finished Forging, your physique stats increased significantly, and you were eligible to receive a Soul Succession. Of course, you could stop at just Forging, though.
"I had heard that this elder had a chronic illness," I said.
When I heard that the lifespan of the elder who had made Ainar his successor was short, I had considered this possibility. But it seemed she had been unaware of it.
"That—I didn't know!"
"It seems the elder cared a lot about you."
Soul Succession, along with the Spirit Imprint, was one of the unique enchantments available only to barbarians. Through this ritual, a barbarian could pass on one of their essences to future generations. But you could receive it only once, and those passing on the essence lost their lives.
"...Why didn't anyone tell me? If I had known this was going to happen, I would have stopped right away," Ainar lamented in a voice full of regret and remorse.
The chieftain, who had been observing us, opened his mouth. "Kiduba was a coward."
"Don't insult him! Kiduba was a fearless warrior!"
"Then it must be you who are a coward. That's why Kiduba couldn't explain Soul Succession to you."
"I am not a—!"
As Ainar began to snap, the chieftain cut her off at once. "Then stop whining. If you want to prove that you're not a coward, face his death without insulting him any further, warrior. There is not a single person in the world who doesn't feel pain. Even so, you must face it and move on. That is the way of a warrior."
After that, Ainar kept her mouth shut, and the chieftain did not speak for a long time. The funeral continued in silence. The shaman approached the body, which was leaning against a tree, smeared blood on his face, and rang a bell. Then, a solution was sprayed all around to prevent insects from eating the corpse. The barbarians silently watched the process, and soon the shaman announced the end of the funeral ceremony.
"The spirit of Kiduba, the third son of Tohar, has left its body and settled in the forest."
Now, the corpse would be left in the forest to rot and become white bones. Then, when that time came, the shaman would break even the bones into small pieces and scatter them through the forest. The warriors standing in front of the corpse all cut off their hair or slit their hands and sprinkled blood around him before leaving. The entire process didn't take too long.
Now it was only me and Ainar. I approached the corpse first, cut off my hair with a knife, and scattered it around. "Now it is your turn."
Ainar did not answer. However, rather than pushing further, I just left without a word. As this had been a farewell she hadn't been prepared for, she needed time to come to terms with it on her own.
***
"Keke, I knew you would come, warrior." Soon after leaving the forest, I entered the shaman's tent. "Did you bring the ingredient?"
"Yes."
"Come, take it out."
Following the shaman's instructions, I took out the Immortal Heart—the heart of a Troll—that I had stored in my backpack. It was resting on a piece of cloth in a box, still pounding lightly.
"Did you get it yourself?"
"No, I bought it at the exchange."
"For how much?" I didn't know why he was curious about that, but once I answered, the shaman giggled. "How has a barbarian like you appeared? You are undoubtedly blessed with financial fortune, warrior."
Most of my conversations with the shaman were like this, but strangely, this comment left me in a bad mood today. Without thinking, I shot back, "Don't talk about financial fortune when you don't know anything."
At my words, the shaman just grinned. "Hmm, since you came back alive and well, the problem probably isn't you... Have you lost something?"
"I don't want to answer that."
"Sure, that's fine too." I didn't reply. "Warrior, the more precious things you lose, the stronger you will become."
I very much wanted to curse him out, but I just kept quiet. For some reason, the more I talked to this old man, the more I felt like I was losing. "Sure. Can I get the Spirit Imprint today?"
"Of course." The shaman happily nodded his head at my question. I had thought he might be tired from the funeral ceremony.
Clink.
I put the million stones charged by the shaman into the jar and lay on the floor. I had reached the sixth imprint of the Immortality Path.
"This time, too, there are three paths ahead of you."
After listening to a brief explanation of each, I chose one. There was no need to think it through. In the first place, I had poured all my money into the Imprint for this one thing. "I will choose the Soul of Battle."
As Ainar began to snap, the chieftain cut her off at once. "Then stop whining. If you want to prove that you're not a coward, face his death without insulting him any further, warrior. There is not a single person in the world who doesn't feel pain. Even so, you must face it and move on. That is the way of a warrior."
After that, Ainar kept her mouth shut, and the chieftain did not speak for a long time. The funeral continued in silence. The shaman approached the body, which was leaning against a tree, smeared blood on his face, and rang a bell. Then, a solution was sprayed all around to prevent insects from eating the corpse. The barbarians silently watched the process, and soon the shaman announced the end of the funeral ceremony.
"The spirit of Kiduba, the third son of Tohar, has left its body and settled in the forest."
Now, the corpse would be left in the forest to rot and become white bones. Then, when that time came, the shaman would break even the bones into small pieces and scatter them through the forest. The warriors standing in front of the corpse all cut off their hair or slit their hands and sprinkled blood around him before leaving. The entire process didn't take too long.
Now it was only me and Ainar. I approached the corpse first, cut off my hair with a knife, and scattered it around. "Now it is your turn."
Ainar did not answer. However, rather than pushing further, I just left without a word. As this had been a farewell she hadn't been prepared for, she needed time to come to terms with it on her own.
***
"Keke, I knew you would come, warrior." Soon after leaving the forest, I entered the shaman's tent. "Did you bring the ingredient?"
"Yes."
"Come, take it out."
Following the shaman's instructions, I took out the Immortal Heart—the heart of a Troll—that I had stored in my backpack. It was resting on a piece of cloth in a box, still pounding lightly.
"Did you get it yourself?"
"No, I bought it at the exchange."
"For how much?" I didn't know why he was curious about that, but once I answered, the shaman giggled. "How has a barbarian like you appeared? You are undoubtedly blessed with financial fortune, warrior."
Most of my conversations with the shaman were like this, but strangely, this comment left me in a bad mood today. Without thinking, I shot back, "Don't talk about financial fortune when you don't know anything."
At my words, the shaman just grinned. "Hmm, since you came back alive and well, the problem probably isn't you... Have you lost something?"
"I don't want to answer that."
"Sure, that's fine too." I didn't reply. "Warrior, the more precious things you lose, the stronger you will become."
I very much wanted to curse him out, but I just kept quiet. For some reason, the more I talked to this old man, the more I felt like I was losing. "Sure. Can I get the Spirit Imprint today?"
"Of course." The shaman happily nodded his head at my question. I had thought he might be tired from the funeral ceremony.
Clink.
I put the million stones charged by the shaman into the jar and lay on the floor. I had reached the sixth imprint of the Immortality Path.
"This time, too, there are three paths ahead of you."
After listening to a brief explanation of each, I chose one. There was no need to think it through. In the first place, I had poured all my money into the Imprint for this one thing. "I will choose the Soul of Battle."
"Keke, even if you want to change it later, you won't be able to."
Soon after, the shaman started stabbing me with needles. Before long, a sharp pain overtook me, but I was able to deal with it better than before. This was for a psychological reason that had nothing to do with the intensity of the pain. I knew that a very big reward lay at the end of this.
[You have activated Immortality Imprint: Stage 6. Your Soul Regeneration has significantly increased. Your Special Ability stat has increased by +60.]
I had managed to significantly increase the stat that was the hardest to obtain—MP regeneration. Simply put, that meant that I could now use Giantization more often and sustain it for longer. This was nothing compared to the main event, though.
[A Soul of Battle now resides in your body. Thanks to the special ability Union, Equipment Performance increases in proportion to your Ability level.]
Union, a passive skill always paired with the active skill, Wild Outburst, was already great on its own. However, there was a hidden aspect to this skill. Perhaps because the whole point of it was the idea of becoming one body in battle, if you had this, your equipment wouldn't be damaged even while using Giantization. In other words, I wouldn't have to take off my cumbersome armor anymore. Not only that, but it would also be possible for me to smash enemies with a super-giant mace and shield!
"Ughhh... Behel... ahhh..."
As he watched me cry-laugh even through the lingering pain, the shaman muttered to himself. "Keke, definitely not a sane one, this one."
Like a barbarian, I let that assessment go in one ear and out the other.
***
[Bjorn Yandel
Level: 4
Physique: 555 (New +225)
Spirit: 198 (New +44)
Special Ability: 188 (New +60)
Item Level: 98 (New -770)
General Combat Power: 965.5 (New +23.5)
Acquired Essences: Corpse Golem - Rank 7 / Orc Hero - Rank 5 / Ogre - Rank 3 (New)]
***
A lot of time had passed since I began imprinting the sixth stage. Beyond the tent, it was still bright out. As I gulped down the water from the kettle on the side table, I asked, "Has it already been a day?"
"Kekeke, are you going to cry to me about how hard it was?"
Jeez, why not just answer with "Yes"? I couldn't understand his manner of speaking no matter how many times I heard it, but I didn't bother to argue with him. Or, more accurately, I had no strength with which to do so. I was about to grab my backpack to get up, when...
"Warrior." The shaman, who always told me to get lost right around this time, called out to me and promptly dropped a completely unexpected bombshell. "How did you come to receive a blessing from a human god?"
My heart dropped, but I let out a long sigh. It was clear that he already knew everything, so there was no point in denying it. "Who did you hear that from? No, how many people know about it?"
"How could I not know? The ring you wear is greatly intertwined with your destiny. Keke, don't worry, though. The others will never notice." The shaman jeered, adding that they had knotholes for eyes. That was when I noticed that the shaman seemed to be in a strangely agreeable mood despite the topic of our discussion.
"Are you going to tell the chieftain?" I asked cautiously.
"Why should I do that?"
I didn't really have anything to say to that.
"It's just an old custom. Just like what I did in the forest yesterday. Thousands of years ago, we left our homeland and arrived in this city. Because of that, we learned about the existence of gods, and learned how to actually be civilized."
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"While we rely on and follow the will of our ancestors, why should we reject and hate a being that genuinely helps us? That is just foolish stubbornness, something that truly deserves to be called barbaric." At his core, the shaman still hadn't changed, especially in terms of his strange manner of speaking. Of course, I couldn't say anything that might get me on his bad side while he had such a powerful grip on my greatest weakness.
"...So, what do you think the chieftain will do?"
"If he finds out about your blessing, you mean?"
"Yes."
The shaman giggled. "Why ask what you already know? That roughneck will brand you a traitor right away and kick you out. Slash! Or maybe cut off your head and burn it."
So, that was how it was. Goddamn it, did I have no choice but to live in suspense until I finished the Spirit Imprint?
As I pursed my lips bitterly at the thought, the shaman continued. "Warrior, you are worrying for nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"Beastpeople, dwarves, and elves abandoned the old traditions long ago. Why do you think that is the case?"
I didn't have to think too hard about it. Earth's history was the same. When new ideas and reforms were needed, there were always those who decided to turn their backs on the old. Later generations then called these people great.
This deranged old man...
It was then that I realized what the shaman was trying to say.
"Are you worried about being kicked out, warrior? If so, the solution to that problem is very simple."
It seemed this grandpa was also a barbarian, after all. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to think up a solution like this. If there was a problem, destroy the problem by destroying it—that was the barbarian way. So, in other words...
"You just need to become the chieftain of the tribe."
Take over the barbarians before I could be exiled.
"How about it? Isn't that a much more warrior-like path?"
I didn't know if it was a warrior-like path or not. Without thinking, though, I laughed out loud. I was a barbarian less than a year old, who was actually an evil spirit. To tell me to become a barbarian chieftain so I could change this society to my liking?
"Those are funny words, shaman."
It was a rather tempting suggestion, especially since it made sense.
"Keke, even if you want to change it later, you won't be able to."
Soon after, the shaman started stabbing me with needles. Before long, a sharp pain overtook me, but I was able to deal with it better than before. This was for a psychological reason that had nothing to do with the intensity of the pain. I knew that a very big reward lay at the end of this.
[You have activated Immortality Imprint: Stage 6. Your Soul Regeneration has significantly increased. Your Special Ability stat has increased by +60.]
I had managed to significantly increase the stat that was the hardest to obtain—MP regeneration. Simply put, that meant that I could now use Giantization more often and sustain it for longer. This was nothing compared to the main event, though.
[A Soul of Battle now resides in your body. Thanks to the special ability Union, Equipment Performance increases in proportion to your Ability level.]
Union, a passive skill always paired with the active skill, Wild Outburst, was already great on its own. However, there was a hidden aspect to this skill. Perhaps because the whole point of it was the idea of becoming one body in battle, if you had this, your equipment wouldn't be damaged even while using Giantization. In other words, I wouldn't have to take off my cumbersome armor anymore. Not only that, but it would also be possible for me to smash enemies with a super-giant mace and shield!
"Ughhh... Behel... ahhh..."
As he watched me cry-laugh even through the lingering pain, the shaman muttered to himself. "Keke, definitely not a sane one, this one."
Like a barbarian, I let that assessment go in one ear and out the other.
***
[Bjorn Yandel
Level: 4
Physique: 555 (New +225)
Spirit: 198 (New +44)
Special Ability: 188 (New +60)
Item Level: 98 (New -770)
General Combat Power: 965.5 (New +23.5)
Acquired Essences: Corpse Golem - Rank 7 / Orc Hero - Rank 5 / Ogre - Rank 3 (New)]
***
A lot of time had passed since I began imprinting the sixth stage. Beyond the tent, it was still bright out. As I gulped down the water from the kettle on the side table, I asked, "Has it already been a day?"
"Kekeke, are you going to cry to me about how hard it was?"
Jeez, why not just answer with "Yes"? I couldn't understand his manner of speaking no matter how many times I heard it, but I didn't bother to argue with him. Or, more accurately, I had no strength with which to do so. I was about to grab my backpack to get up, when...
"Warrior." The shaman, who always told me to get lost right around this time, called out to me and promptly dropped a completely unexpected bombshell. "How did you come to receive a blessing from a human god?"
My heart dropped, but I let out a long sigh. It was clear that he already knew everything, so there was no point in denying it. "Who did you hear that from? No, how many people know about it?"
"How could I not know? The ring you wear is greatly intertwined with your destiny. Keke, don't worry, though. The others will never notice." The shaman jeered, adding that they had knotholes for eyes. That was when I noticed that the shaman seemed to be in a strangely agreeable mood despite the topic of our discussion.
"Are you going to tell the chieftain?" I asked cautiously.
"Why should I do that?"
I didn't really have anything to say to that.
"It's just an old custom. Just like what I did in the forest yesterday. Thousands of years ago, we left our homeland and arrived in this city. Because of that, we learned about the existence of gods, and learned how to actually be civilized."
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"While we rely on and follow the will of our ancestors, why should we reject and hate a being that genuinely helps us? That is just foolish stubbornness, something that truly deserves to be called barbaric." At his core, the shaman still hadn't changed, especially in terms of his strange manner of speaking. Of course, I couldn't say anything that might get me on his bad side while he had such a powerful grip on my greatest weakness.
"...So, what do you think the chieftain will do?"
"If he finds out about your blessing, you mean?"
"Yes."
The shaman giggled. "Why ask what you already know? That roughneck will brand you a traitor right away and kick you out. Slash! Or maybe cut off your head and burn it."
So, that was how it was. Goddamn it, did I have no choice but to live in suspense until I finished the Spirit Imprint?
As I pursed my lips bitterly at the thought, the shaman continued. "Warrior, you are worrying for nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"Beastpeople, dwarves, and elves abandoned the old traditions long ago. Why do you think that is the case?"
I didn't have to think too hard about it. Earth's history was the same. When new ideas and reforms were needed, there were always those who decided to turn their backs on the old. Later generations then called these people great.
This deranged old man...
It was then that I realized what the shaman was trying to say.
"Are you worried about being kicked out, warrior? If so, the solution to that problem is very simple."
It seemed this grandpa was also a barbarian, after all. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to think up a solution like this. If there was a problem, destroy the problem by destroying it—that was the barbarian way. So, in other words...
"You just need to become the chieftain of the tribe."
Take over the barbarians before I could be exiled.
"How about it? Isn't that a much more warrior-like path?"
I didn't know if it was a warrior-like path or not. Without thinking, though, I laughed out loud. I was a barbarian less than a year old, who was actually an evil spirit. To tell me to become a barbarian chieftain so I could change this society to my liking?
"Those are funny words, shaman."
It was a rather tempting suggestion, especially since it made sense.