Chapter 97: Barbarian Trophy (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 97: Barbarian Trophy (4)
When activated, Wild Outburst increased the user's Threat Level stat. However, this threat level didn't provoke people the same way it did monsters. Just as Dwalkie had once told me: "Ummm... i-it was a very strange feeling. It was like my mind knew that there was nothing dangerous, but my body was telling me that I should run..."
The timid shrank away in fear, but the brave, on the contrary, usually responded with competitiveness. So, how about this guy?
"Ha!" The answer was the latter. He flinched at the shout I spat in his face, but soon came back to his senses and finished swinging his sword. If I'd had my shield in my left hand as usual, I could've just deflected it.
There won't be much difference now, though.
It was the same either way. The body of a tank existed solely to block enemy attacks.
Slide.
I removed a hand from the axe and used it to follow the trajectory of the swinging sword. A dull thud followed.
Kagak!
A question formed in the eyes of the bastard who believed he had secured victory. I was sure he must have been curious. When would you ever hear that kind of sound coming from a sharp blade and a bare arm? His eyes started moving, seeking an answer, and soon reached their destination.
"Confused?"
At my question, he nodded blankly. Why had his sword cut through skin, but not bone? There were many reasons for that: bone strength, physical resistance, my innately large and tough skeleton, increased physical stats due to Wild Outburst, et cetera. It would have been more ridiculous if he had somehow managed to cut off my wrist in one fell swoop despite all that.
There's no need for a wordy explanation.
Because I was a barbarian, this was enough: "You're weak." Immediately after blurting that out I realized how cheesy it was, but it had a noticeable effect. As if he had just received the greatest insult possible, he pulled out the sword stuck in my arm. That was a bad move.
Splash!
Fresh blood splattered everywhere as the blade was pulled out.
Chhhhhh!
The sounds that followed were ones of corrosion and a moan of pain.
"Aghhh! What a dirty trick—!"
What do you mean? I'm just standing here.
It was clear that there was indeed something wrong with his head, so I reached out and grabbed him by the neck. It'd be a headache if he ran away. As the blood was cut off from his brain, what's-his-name started to writhe. This was already a done deal. One twist of the neck and he would die.
[You have removed your equipment. Your General Item Level has decreased by -495.]
However, I set down the weapon in my hand. The reason for that was simple.
Kakakang!
According to the steward, this double-edged battle axe had been bought with a lot of money just for today. Plus, if I brought it down on this guy's head, I wouldn't be able to use "I had no intent to kill" as an excuse.
Also, I promised.
I made a promise to the three knights that the next time we met, I'd get rid of the problems in their heads.
Squeeze.
So, with a fist the size of a watermelon, I punched him in the temple with all my might.
Smack!
"Behelaaah!"
If there was a problem with someone's head, it just had to be removed—yeah, a barbarian would definitely think that way.
Or not.
Silence: a state in which there was little to no sound in a certain area. That state currently characterized the count's lawn.
It was a very unusual sight. In a place where so many people were gathered—in the middle of a party, no less—how could a crowd of hundreds create such total silence without a tacit agreement?
"W-Where is the priest!" The silence came to an end when a knight carried whatever-his-name-was out of the amphitheater with a half-crushed head.
I approached the referee. "Don't you have to proclaim the winner?"
The referee looked startled by my question, but then shouted to the crowd, "Th-the winner is Bjorn Yandel of the House of Baron Martoin!"
At first, I wondered if he was discriminating against me for being a barbarian. However, judging by the reaction from the crowd that followed, it seemed that wasn't the case.
"Woahhh!"
"That barbarian! He's the best!"
"I've never seen such an exciting duel! How liberating!"
"But isn't that knight dead?"
"I-It was too gruesome. Feel this. Can you feel my heart pounding?"
"U-Uh... I-I think so..."
"It's not the first time someone has died in a duel. An injury like that can be treated by the priest."
The response was noticeably more enthusiastic than the one after the first duel.
"Behelaaah!"
I released another shout for the crowd and then walked down the stage toward the tent. Not the one where the baron would be waiting, but the tent where whatever-his-name-was had been moved for treatment.
"Y-You! How dare you come here!" As soon as I entered the barracks, a howl of rage erupted from the remaining two of the three knights.
Without replying, I approached the priest who was conducting the treatment. "Is he dead?"
"...It is not fatal." Even as he answered me, the priest shot me a displeased look. "Couldn't you have taken the rules into consideration?"
Hearing a follower of god say that made me flinch a bit, but I had excuses ready. "I didn't know it would turn out like this. He's a knight! I even put down my axe and used my fist! How could I know he would pass out with one punch?"
At my confident reply, the two piggies blushed with shame, and the priest's mouth fell open in shock. "Pass... out? His brain was leaking from the injury, but you think he passed out—"
"If he's alive, he's passed out!"
It was an argument that even Ainar, who taught me how to live like a barbarian, would fold against. At that, the priest pursed his lips. He had apparently determined that there was no point in arguing with me anymore.
An awkward silence hung inside the tent. I was wondering if I should just leave when the bastard woke up right on cue.
"W-Where... am I...?" he muttered, eyes hazy. The divine power of a high-ranking priest had healed his crushed skull impeccably, but it was not an all-purpose cheat code. "I remember I was on my way up to the arena..."
At his mumbling, the priest explained the situation. There was a tournament happening, and he had incurred a serious brain injury. However, he had just been treated, and his memory would recover in time.
Smack!
"Behelaaah!"
If there was a problem with someone's head, it just had to be removed—yeah, a barbarian would definitely think that way.
Or not.
Silence: a state in which there was little to no sound in a certain area. That state currently characterized the count's lawn.
It was a very unusual sight. In a place where so many people were gathered—in the middle of a party, no less—how could a crowd of hundreds create such total silence without a tacit agreement?
"W-Where is the priest!" The silence came to an end when a knight carried whatever-his-name-was out of the amphitheater with a half-crushed head.
I approached the referee. "Don't you have to proclaim the winner?"
The referee looked startled by my question, but then shouted to the crowd, "Th-the winner is Bjorn Yandel of the House of Baron Martoin!"
At first, I wondered if he was discriminating against me for being a barbarian. However, judging by the reaction from the crowd that followed, it seemed that wasn't the case.
"Woahhh!"
"That barbarian! He's the best!"
"I've never seen such an exciting duel! How liberating!"
"But isn't that knight dead?"
"I-It was too gruesome. Feel this. Can you feel my heart pounding?"
"U-Uh... I-I think so..."
"It's not the first time someone has died in a duel. An injury like that can be treated by the priest."
The response was noticeably more enthusiastic than the one after the first duel.
"Behelaaah!"
I released another shout for the crowd and then walked down the stage toward the tent. Not the one where the baron would be waiting, but the tent where whatever-his-name-was had been moved for treatment.
"Y-You! How dare you come here!" As soon as I entered the barracks, a howl of rage erupted from the remaining two of the three knights.
Without replying, I approached the priest who was conducting the treatment. "Is he dead?"
"...It is not fatal." Even as he answered me, the priest shot me a displeased look. "Couldn't you have taken the rules into consideration?"
Hearing a follower of god say that made me flinch a bit, but I had excuses ready. "I didn't know it would turn out like this. He's a knight! I even put down my axe and used my fist! How could I know he would pass out with one punch?"
At my confident reply, the two piggies blushed with shame, and the priest's mouth fell open in shock. "Pass... out? His brain was leaking from the injury, but you think he passed out—"
"If he's alive, he's passed out!"
It was an argument that even Ainar, who taught me how to live like a barbarian, would fold against. At that, the priest pursed his lips. He had apparently determined that there was no point in arguing with me anymore.
An awkward silence hung inside the tent. I was wondering if I should just leave when the bastard woke up right on cue.
"W-Where... am I...?" he muttered, eyes hazy. The divine power of a high-ranking priest had healed his crushed skull impeccably, but it was not an all-purpose cheat code. "I remember I was on my way up to the arena..."
At his mumbling, the priest explained the situation. There was a tournament happening, and he had incurred a serious brain injury. However, he had just been treated, and his memory would recover in time.
"I-I see. Thank you for your h—" When the bastard who was thanking the priest for his kind briefing saw me in the room, he stiffened. "W-Why are you...?"
His look was closer to one of fear than confusion. That was a little suspicious. If he had lost his memory during the duel, why was he reacting like this?
"Hmm, do you really not remember anything?"
"I-I don't. S-So, leave."
It didn't seem to be a lie... Still, I should set things straight while I was here. "If you do one thing for me, I'll leave right away."
He looked at me quizzically.
"It's nothing special, just repeat what I say." So, after telling him exactly what he had told me earlier, I asked him to repeat it.
"I-If I say that, are you going to leave...?"
"Of course."
When I nodded, what's-his-name gulped, then repeated exactly what I said. "I-I heard he got his name in the first place b-because he's... Ugh—" Suddenly, he trembled like an aspen tree and gripped his head. "Ahhh...! I-I remember!" It seemed that the memories that had been temporarily lost had come back while he was recreating the past.
"Good. Go on."
At my urging, what's-his-name froze like a statue, then began losing it. "S-Stop... I-I was wrong. So please..."
Apologizing? That was something I would never have expected from his past self. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Fortunately, the problem in your head seems to have disappeared."
"Yes. So, please take your leave. The patient needs to rest."
"Sure." At the priest's words, I left the tent without regrets.
"I-I'm getting out of here. I-I need to leave, fast!"
I could hear a faint commotion from beyond the tent, and as I listened, I put two and two together. I was neither a doctor nor a priest with divine power, just a barbarian living in this savage world. But so what?
As I thought, barbarians are overpowered characters.
Just today, I resolved a problem that even a priest couldn't fix.
When I returned to the waiting tent, the baron greeted me. "Good job. I really didn't expect it to end so quickly... But where have you been?" When I told him that I went to see what's-his-name and the state he was in, the baron grinned. "You are one peculiar fellow. You attacked him so mercilessly, yet you care about something like that?"
Mercilessly? That's a bit harsh.
"If this were the labyrinth, I would have hacked him with an ax."
"Well, yes..."
"To be honest, I didn't realize he would be that weak. I thought he'd at least be durable since he's slow." This was an answer I had prepared in advance in case there were any issues.
For some reason, the baron burst into laughter. "Yes, who could blame you? It's their fault for not training enough."
"But is it okay to keep going like this? They may be apprentice knights, but aren't they titled nobles too?"
"Huh, are you really worried about the future? Don't worry about that. It happened during a duel."
"But aren't knights property of the family? What if the nobles swear allegiance to harm me?"
"I said, don't worry! Why are apprentice knights participating in an amusement like this instead of official knights? Because it's not a huge deal if they die," the baron said firmly, before going on to explain that no one would try to get huffy with him over such a trivial matter and that even if it did happen, he'd put a stop to it. That was exactly what I wanted to hear. "So you just focus on winning. Everyone's reactions to you were positive. The more you wreak havoc, the more pleased the count will be."
"I-I see. Thank you for your h—" When the bastard who was thanking the priest for his kind briefing saw me in the room, he stiffened. "W-Why are you...?"
His look was closer to one of fear than confusion. That was a little suspicious. If he had lost his memory during the duel, why was he reacting like this?
"Hmm, do you really not remember anything?"
"I-I don't. S-So, leave."
It didn't seem to be a lie... Still, I should set things straight while I was here. "If you do one thing for me, I'll leave right away."
He looked at me quizzically.
"It's nothing special, just repeat what I say." So, after telling him exactly what he had told me earlier, I asked him to repeat it.
"I-If I say that, are you going to leave...?"
"Of course."
When I nodded, what's-his-name gulped, then repeated exactly what I said. "I-I heard he got his name in the first place b-because he's... Ugh—" Suddenly, he trembled like an aspen tree and gripped his head. "Ahhh...! I-I remember!" It seemed that the memories that had been temporarily lost had come back while he was recreating the past.
"Good. Go on."
At my urging, what's-his-name froze like a statue, then began losing it. "S-Stop... I-I was wrong. So please..."
Apologizing? That was something I would never have expected from his past self. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Fortunately, the problem in your head seems to have disappeared."
"Yes. So, please take your leave. The patient needs to rest."
"Sure." At the priest's words, I left the tent without regrets.
"I-I'm getting out of here. I-I need to leave, fast!"
I could hear a faint commotion from beyond the tent, and as I listened, I put two and two together. I was neither a doctor nor a priest with divine power, just a barbarian living in this savage world. But so what?
As I thought, barbarians are overpowered characters.
Just today, I resolved a problem that even a priest couldn't fix.
When I returned to the waiting tent, the baron greeted me. "Good job. I really didn't expect it to end so quickly... But where have you been?" When I told him that I went to see what's-his-name and the state he was in, the baron grinned. "You are one peculiar fellow. You attacked him so mercilessly, yet you care about something like that?"
Mercilessly? That's a bit harsh.
"If this were the labyrinth, I would have hacked him with an ax."
"Well, yes..."
"To be honest, I didn't realize he would be that weak. I thought he'd at least be durable since he's slow." This was an answer I had prepared in advance in case there were any issues.
For some reason, the baron burst into laughter. "Yes, who could blame you? It's their fault for not training enough."
"But is it okay to keep going like this? They may be apprentice knights, but aren't they titled nobles too?"
"Huh, are you really worried about the future? Don't worry about that. It happened during a duel."
"But aren't knights property of the family? What if the nobles swear allegiance to harm me?"
"I said, don't worry! Why are apprentice knights participating in an amusement like this instead of official knights? Because it's not a huge deal if they die," the baron said firmly, before going on to explain that no one would try to get huffy with him over such a trivial matter and that even if it did happen, he'd put a stop to it. That was exactly what I wanted to hear. "So you just focus on winning. Everyone's reactions to you were positive. The more you wreak havoc, the more pleased the count will be."
Well, in that case. I now felt like I could crack all those skulls without worrying. It seemed that the priest's abilities were no joke, either.
"The winner is Sir Tillen of the House of Viscount Henslvania!"
Afterward, I watched the other duels with the baron and waited for my turn. It was quite fun at first, but I soon lost interest. Their fighting techniques were all the same. I could see why everyone had gotten so excited during my turn.
Even if they're just collateral relatives, they're still aristocrats. There is no showmanship.
I was a bit tired, so with the approval of the baron, I went to take a nap in the corner. I wasn't sure how much time had passed since then.
The steward woke me very carefully. "...Hey, hey, you, someone is looking for you."
"Looking for me?"
That was kind of out of the blue, but before I could ask, the steward finished saying exactly what he needed to say and disappeared. So, I went and checked it out.
What's this now? The three piggies?
Two of the trio in question were standing there. Before I had time to ask what they wanted, one of them reached out to grab my collar. I didn't know his name, but it was the one who had slandered me by calling me Little Clown.
"You b—!" When I stepped back and avoided his hand, Little Clown stiffened in embarrassment and continued. "A-Ahem. You! What did you do to Sir Sylvania?!"
"Sir Sylvania?"
When I picked at my ear and cocked my head, the guy got furious. "You don't even know the name of the person you dueled!"
So that was his name. "Syl...mania..."
"It's Sir Sylvania!"
"Yeah, him. Did something happen to him?"
At my question, the two shook in anger. "Are you joking? Each time your name comes up, he loses it and goes wild!"
"How can you be so wicked? No matter how much resentment you may hold, to reduce a person to that state... Have you no mercy or honor?"
Mercy or honor? Those weren't things a bastard who declared he'd slit my throat in ten seconds should be talking about. I made a final diagnosis. "...I never thought the situation would be this serious."
Prompt treatment was needed.
"What are you doing here?" The commotion ended when Baron Martoin poked his head out of the tent. Flinching, the duo left as soon as they saw his face. "...Who were those men?"
"Nobody."
"Well. Anyway, come this way. I have a great idea, and I want to know if it's actually possible."
After that, I went back to the tent and had a frivolous conversation with the baron to kill time. The first round was over before I knew it, and the quarter-final of the tournament kicked off.
Was this the "hero's fate" that the shaman had talked about?
"Sir Quartean of the House of Baron Serpia and Bjorn Yandel of the House of Baron Martoin, take your positions!"
Surprisingly, I faced one of the three knights in the second round as well. It was the bastard with the tendency to bluff.
"Don't expect this to be the same as last time." Even though the duel had already started, the bastard took the time to deliver a line. "I don't want to say this with my own mouth, but Sir Sylvania is the weakest out of—"
In truth, it was even easier than the first duel. Taking advantage of the opening created by his muttering, I sprinted forward.
"Uh, huh—?"
Ignoring the way he swung his sword in a fit of surprise, I reached out my hand, grabbed him by the neck, and threw a heartfelt punch at his temple.
Smack!
Soon, the flesh and bones of his head were crushed, and he fell helplessly to the floor. This happened within three seconds of the duel starting.
"Woahhh!"
"Please crush it like that next time, too!"
"Knight Crusher! He's a Knight Crusher!"
Even though the duel had ended in an instant, the crowd erupted in enthusiastic cheers. It was ironic indeed.
I can't believe they like watching people's heads get bashed in that much.
At this point, I didn't know who the savage was here.
[Your reputation has increased by +10.]
[Your reputation has increased by +10.]
Well, in that case. I now felt like I could crack all those skulls without worrying. It seemed that the priest's abilities were no joke, either.
"The winner is Sir Tillen of the House of Viscount Henslvania!"
Afterward, I watched the other duels with the baron and waited for my turn. It was quite fun at first, but I soon lost interest. Their fighting techniques were all the same. I could see why everyone had gotten so excited during my turn.
Even if they're just collateral relatives, they're still aristocrats. There is no showmanship.
I was a bit tired, so with the approval of the baron, I went to take a nap in the corner. I wasn't sure how much time had passed since then.
The steward woke me very carefully. "...Hey, hey, you, someone is looking for you."
"Looking for me?"
That was kind of out of the blue, but before I could ask, the steward finished saying exactly what he needed to say and disappeared. So, I went and checked it out.
What's this now? The three piggies?
Two of the trio in question were standing there. Before I had time to ask what they wanted, one of them reached out to grab my collar. I didn't know his name, but it was the one who had slandered me by calling me Little Clown.
"You b—!" When I stepped back and avoided his hand, Little Clown stiffened in embarrassment and continued. "A-Ahem. You! What did you do to Sir Sylvania?!"
"Sir Sylvania?"
When I picked at my ear and cocked my head, the guy got furious. "You don't even know the name of the person you dueled!"
So that was his name. "Syl...mania..."
"It's Sir Sylvania!"
"Yeah, him. Did something happen to him?"
At my question, the two shook in anger. "Are you joking? Each time your name comes up, he loses it and goes wild!"
"How can you be so wicked? No matter how much resentment you may hold, to reduce a person to that state... Have you no mercy or honor?"
Mercy or honor? Those weren't things a bastard who declared he'd slit my throat in ten seconds should be talking about. I made a final diagnosis. "...I never thought the situation would be this serious."
Prompt treatment was needed.
"What are you doing here?" The commotion ended when Baron Martoin poked his head out of the tent. Flinching, the duo left as soon as they saw his face. "...Who were those men?"
"Nobody."
"Well. Anyway, come this way. I have a great idea, and I want to know if it's actually possible."
After that, I went back to the tent and had a frivolous conversation with the baron to kill time. The first round was over before I knew it, and the quarter-final of the tournament kicked off.
Was this the "hero's fate" that the shaman had talked about?
"Sir Quartean of the House of Baron Serpia and Bjorn Yandel of the House of Baron Martoin, take your positions!"
Surprisingly, I faced one of the three knights in the second round as well. It was the bastard with the tendency to bluff.
"Don't expect this to be the same as last time." Even though the duel had already started, the bastard took the time to deliver a line. "I don't want to say this with my own mouth, but Sir Sylvania is the weakest out of—"
In truth, it was even easier than the first duel. Taking advantage of the opening created by his muttering, I sprinted forward.
"Uh, huh—?"
Ignoring the way he swung his sword in a fit of surprise, I reached out my hand, grabbed him by the neck, and threw a heartfelt punch at his temple.
Smack!
Soon, the flesh and bones of his head were crushed, and he fell helplessly to the floor. This happened within three seconds of the duel starting.
"Woahhh!"
"Please crush it like that next time, too!"
"Knight Crusher! He's a Knight Crusher!"
Even though the duel had ended in an instant, the crowd erupted in enthusiastic cheers. It was ironic indeed.
I can't believe they like watching people's heads get bashed in that much.
At this point, I didn't know who the savage was here.
[Your reputation has increased by +10.]
[Your reputation has increased by +10.]