Rich Young Master Enters Donetoungk's Trial
After I declared my intent to undergo the Donetoungk Trial, silence fell over all of Lunaria.
My retainers, now used to my antics, just sighed and shook their heads.
The barbarians, on the other hand, gawked in shock, eyes wide.
The Donetoungk Trial was an honor reserved for great warriors acknowledged by every tribe—a deadly test that could claim your life. The mere fact that I knew of this closely guarded secret among the tribes was shocking enough. And declaring I'd take it on without a healer? No wonder they were freaking out.
"Young Master Hines, what the hell is this Donetoungk Trial that's got the barbarians reacting like that?"
"An ancient dungeon."
"Sorry, didn't catch that?"
"Ancient dungeon."
"Aren't there no ancient dungeons up north?"
"There are. The barbarians just kept them hidden tight, so no one knew."
The Donetoungk Trial was a unique dungeon, structured unlike any other. Declaring your intent marked the back of your hand with an ice sigil. To erase it, you had to complete every trial within ten days without leaving the north. Fail or run out of time, and you'd be trapped forever in unmelting ice, ending your life there.
"S-So, we just help Young Master Hines clear the ancient dungeon?"
"Nah."
I shook my head—no need for that.
I raised the sigil on the back of my hand toward the sunlight shining on me. Clouds drifted across the sun, illuminating only the path I had to take.
"The Donetoungk Trial can only be undertaken by one person alone—no outside interference allowed. Even if you tried to help, the barbarians would stop you. To them, it's a sacred rite."
Sure enough, Rakshar, now back to his senses, blocked the knights' path. Even after showing weakness in defeat, he was ready to die before letting anyone interfere this time. No point picking a fight with allies who'd just pledged loyalty. Plus, clearing it with help meant the barbarians wouldn't acknowledge me as the north's overlord.
"Lord Hines, the supplies you requested."
"Thanks."
I'd tipped off my retainers early: there's this Donetoungk Trial in the north, and if things went south, I'd take it. Most opposed, but I convinced them it was the easiest, most efficient way. After some back-and-forth, I asked them to prep and organize everything I'd need.
"Everything in this bundle is mine now—spoils of war, basically. No issue if I take it in?"
"The god overseeing the trial has his proxy for judgment. They'll decide."
"Fair enough. Just saying it now so you don't bitch later."
"The Frost Fang tribe swears not to challenge you undergoing this sacred trial."
"Good."
I slung the bundle over my back and followed the sunlit path. Up the snowy mountain peak. A blizzard began howling again—the trial had already started.
"Someone's woken me again? Who's the idiot this time?"
Cress, the grand ice spirit residing in the snowy mountains. Born of Donetoungk himself, she was the herald conveying the god's will. But she only awoke when a trial began, otherwise sleeping deep in the mountains, awaiting challengers indefinitely.
"Hope this one lasts a while... I wanna enjoy a bit more freedom."
Cress carved a wide ice platform at the mountain's edge and neatly arranged items infused with divine power atop it. Her actions screamed merchant more than spirit, though she looked reluctant about it.
"Lord Donetoungk is too much. Why keep trying to sell to these barbarians who don't even know the value of things...?"
The sales prep was the god's will, not hers. Donetoungk, god of winter, storms, and gold, loved gold above all. He'd sold items to trial-takers before, but sales hovered near zero. Barbarians were self-sufficient and had no concept of money. Challengers were always warriors who knew of the trial—only barbarians.
"This one'll probably ignore it all and leave too."
Even if they had money, they wouldn't buy. Barbarians saw wounds and pain from the trial as honors—masochistic perverts, basically. No interest in items easing the ordeal. Cress figured there'd be demand for ones making it harder.
"Finally here. Huh...?"
Cress rubbed her eyes. No sign of the usual challenger. A slender man bundled in layers of clothes—Hines. No tattoos, the barbarian must-have. She lost it.
"Y-You're the challenger, right?"
"Yeah."
"No way! What happened while I was asleep? Did the barbarians go extinct?"
"Nope, alive and kicking."
"What? Then how'd you get to take the trial? Those stubborn muscle pigs never let anyone unacknowledged try it!"
"Sorry, but can you explain the trial first? Don't wanna freeze from timeout."
Realizing she was a guide before a salesperson, Cress cleared her throat awkwardly. First non-barbarian challenger—got her all excited. She clapped, recalling her old intro spiel.
"I'm Cress, spirit of these mountains and guide of the trial! Nice to meet you, challenger!"
"Nice to meet you."
"This challenger's all stoic. Fine by me—I prefer quiet over noisy anyway!"
"Heard the trial has stages. What's first?"
"I'll explain special for you!"
I already knew the trial inside out. But asking for the rundown? Simple: needed to bond with the chatty spirit who was thrilled to oblige.
"First trial: endure bone-chilling cold in a storm where you can't see an inch ahead and reach the goal!"
"Simple, but brutally hard."
"Right? Especially with your frail build—you might just get blown away."
"Any way to handle the storm?"
"I'm just the guide, not a solution dispenser! But since we're fated, here's a hint!"
Cress grabbed my arm and dragged me somewhere. To her makeshift ice stall, showing off divine items.
"Ta-da! These help with the trial! Like this cloak...!"
She picked up a cloak from the stall, offering it. Worn and frayed with age, but the divine aura inside burned strong.
"It wards off the storm you worry about! Wear it, and the storm won't touch you!"
"Intriguing. But doesn't using tools like this undermine the trial?"
"Hey! These are made by the trial's creator, Lord Donetoungk himself! Using them wisely is part of the trial—no issue! 'Course, there's a price."
Finally, a chance to make money—Cress was pumped. Non-barbarian outsider might buy something. But I ignored the cloak, eyeing other items.
"What's this ring?"
"Ring of Warmth—keeps your body temp steady, great against cold!"
"These hooks and rope?"
"For climbing out if you fall in a crevasse!"
"Necklace?"
"Absorbs impact from high falls!"
I quizzed her on every item. Cress started excited but grew gloomier.
'He's just gonna window-shop and bail?!'
No buys after all the talk—panic set in. Might just leave after browsing. Hell, maybe he was broke. But she had to sell something.
"Mind if I ask prices?"
"Everything on the stall: one gold coin each. Cheap, right?"
"Whoa...!"
Tenth of original price. Insane discount, but desperate times. A potential buyer appeared—sell at least one. God promised freedom for gold offerings. But I narrowed my eyes, grilling her.
"These great items for just one gold? For real?"
"W-Well! Original's ten gold, but no takers, so I slashed it... "
"Got it. I'll take everything on the stall."
"Huh...? F-For real?"
"Yep. At full price."
I pulled a heavy gold pouch from my bundle, handed it over, and gathered the items. Cress's first sale ever—she froze, staring blankly, then at me.
No wild rugged charm. But whipping out that pouch and paying full price? Cooler and hotter than any barbarian hunk.
"Ngh...!"
Thump—!
Her frozen heart pounded, a twinge of pain. First time feeling this. But she brushed it off.
'Probably just arrhythmia.'