Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

Chapter 97 Barbarian Trophy (4)

Barbarian Trophy (4)

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When you use [Wild Release], your threat level increases. However, in this case, the threat level doesn't provoke humans like it does with monsters.

As Dwarkey said the other day:

[Hmm... It was a very strange feeling. My head knew that there was no danger, but my body felt like I had to run away...]

Cowardly people cower in fear.

Courageous people are provoked into competitiveness.

So which one is this guy?

"Haat!"

The answer is the latter.

After flinching for a moment at the battle cry I spat in his face, the guy quickly regains his composure and continues swinging his sword.

If I had a shield in my left hand like usual, I could just deflect it...

'But it doesn't make much difference now.'

It's all the same in the end.

The body of a seasoned tank exists solely to block enemy attacks.

Swoosh.

I move the hand that was holding the axe towards the trajectory of the swinging sword.

And at the same time, a dull sound follows.

Clack-

A look of confusion appears in the guy's eyes, who thought he had gained the upper hand, at the sound.

Well, he must be curious.

When would he ever hear a sound like that when a sharp blade clashes with a bare arm?

“……?”

His gaze shifts, searching for an answer.

His eyes finally reach their destination.

"Don't you understand?"

The guy nods blankly at my question.

Why his sword cut through my skin but couldn't reach the bone.

There are many reasons for that.

Bone Density, Physical Resistance, a naturally large and sturdy skeleton, and physical stats increased by [Wild Release].

If he had cleanly cut off my wrist, that would have been even more absurd.

But…

‘There’s no need to explain everything in detail.’

I’m a barbarian.

“You are—”

One word is enough.

“Weak.”

After saying it, I realize it's a pretty cringe-worthy line, but the effect is significant.

Sil-whatever-his-name-is pulls out the sword embedded in his arm as if he's received the greatest insult.

It's not a good choice.

Splash-!

Blood splatters as the blade is pulled out.

Sizzle!

A corrosive sound follows.

And...

"Kyaaaaak!!!"

A pained groan.

"You used a dirty trick..."

What the hell is he talking about? I just stood there.

As expected, there's definitely something wrong with his head, so I reach out and grab his neck.

Because it would be a pain in the ass if he runs away, right?

"Keuheok!"

Sil-whatever-his-name-is struggles as the blood flow to his brain is cut off.

It's like a meal that's already been prepared.

I'm sure he would die with just a twist of his neck.

But...

「Unequipped equipment.」

「Total item level decreased by -495.」

...I put down the weapon I was holding.

The reason is simple.

Clang!

The double-edged battle axe that the butler bought at a high price for today.

If I smash his head with this, I won't even have the excuse of not intending to kill him...

‘And I made a promise.’

I promised the three knight assholes.

That I would definitely fix the problems with their heads when we meet again.

Therefore…

Clench.

I clench my fist, which is the size of a watermelon…

…and punch him in the temple with all my might.

Thwack—!!!

If there's a problem with his head…

"Behel—laaaaaaaaaa!!!!"

…then I just have to get rid of his head.

Right, that's what a barbarian would think.

Or maybe not.

_______________________________

Silence.

The surroundings are quiet, with only faint sounds.

This state continues for a while.

“…….”

It’s a very unusual sight.

In a place with so many people gathered…

…and in the midst of a festival…

…hundreds of people fall silent without any unspoken agreement.

“Wh, where’s the priest!!”

A knight runs out, carrying Sil-whatever-his-name-is, whose head is half-crushed, and the silence ends.

Therefore, I also approach the referee.

“Do I not need to tell you who the winner is?”

The referee looks flustered at my question and then shouts to the crowd,

“Th, the winner is Bjorn Yandel of the Martoan Barony!”

At first, I thought he was discriminating against me because I’m a barbarian.

But judging by the crowd’s subsequent reaction, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Waaaaaaaa!”

“Barbarian! Barbarian is the best!”

“I’ve never seen such a refreshing duel! It’s so satisfying!”

“But, isn’t that knight dead?”

“Yo, you, touch him here. Can you feel his heart beating?”

“Uh, uh… I, I think so…”

“People dying during duels isn’t uncommon. And with that level of injury, the priest will surely heal him.”

The reaction is even more enthusiastic than during the first duel.

“Behel—laaaaaaaaaa!!”

I get off the stage after letting out a shout as a service and head towards the tent.

Not the tent where the baron is waiting…

…but the tent where Sil-whatever-his-name-is was taken for treatment.

“Yo, you bastard! How dare you come here!”

As soon as I enter the tent, I’m met with a thunderous scolding.

It’s from the remaining two of the three knight assholes.

I ignore them and approach the priest who is in the middle of treatment.

“Is he dead?”

“…His life is not in danger.”

The priest answers while glaring at me with a hostile gaze.

“Couldn’t you have shown a bit more mercy?”

I feel a bit guilty when someone who follows God says that, but I have plenty of excuses.

“I didn’t know it would turn out like this.”

“……?”

“He’s a knight! I even put down my axe and just punched him! How could I have known he would faint from one hit?”

The three knights blush with shame at my confident answer, and the priest opens his mouth in disbelief.

“Faint… you say? It was a serious injury where his brain matter was exposed, but you call it fainting—”

“If he’s alive, isn’t it just fainting!”

It’s a choice of words that even Ainar, who taught me about the barbarian way of life, would back down from.

The priest then shuts his mouth.

He’s judged that it’s pointless to continue the conversation.

“…….”

An awkward silence fills the tent.

I’m about to leave, but just in time, Sil-whatever-his-name-is regains consciousness.

“Uh, uh… where am I…?”

Sil-whatever-his-name-is mutters with a dazed look.

The divine power emanating from the high-ranking priest has already completely healed his smashed head, but it’s not an all-powerful cheat code.

“I’m pretty sure I was on my way to the duel…”

The priest explains the situation at his mumbling.

That there was a duel, and he suffered a serious head injury.

But he was treated quickly, so his memory will return with time.

“I, I see. Thank you for helping—”

Just as he’s expressing his gratitude for the priest’s kind briefing, he spots me and freezes.

“Yo, you, why are you here…”

It’s closer to fear than surprise.

I’m a bit confused.

He lost his memory of the duel, but how can he react like this?

“Hmm, you really don’t remember anything?”

“I, I don’t. So please leave.”

Hmm, he doesn’t seem to be lying…

But I should at least confirm what I need to confirm while I’m here.

“I’ll leave immediately if you do one thing for me.”

“……?”

“It’s nothing special, just repeat after me.”

I recite the words he said to me before and ask him to repeat them.

“Ju, just that, and you’ll leave…?”

“Of course.”

Sil-whatever-his-name-is gulps as I nod.

And he repeats the words I recited.

But…

“In, in the first place, that’s why you got that na, name because it’s sm, small… Uh, ugh…”

He suddenly starts trembling like an aspen leaf and grabs his head.

“Aaah…! I, I remember…!”

It seems like his lost memories have returned as he recalls the past.

“That’s good. Keep going.”

At my urging, Sil-whatever-his-name-is freezes and then starts convulsing.

“St, stop… I, I was wrong. So please…”

He’s apologizing?

It’s an attitude that the old him could never have imagined.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“It seems like the problem with your head has disappeared.”

“Yes. So please leave now. The patient needs rest.”

“Alright.”

I leave the tent without hesitation at the priest’s words.

“I, I’m going to leave this place. I, I need to run away…!”

I hear a faint commotion from beyond the tent.

Listening to it, I finally realize…

I’m not a doctor or a priest with divine power.

I’m just a barbarian living in this barbaric world.

But so what?

‘As expected, barbarians are OP.’

Just today…

I solved a problem that even a priest couldn’t fix.

___________________________

“You’ve worked hard. I didn’t expect you to finish it that quickly… but where did you go?”

The baron greets me as I return to the waiting tent.

I tell him I went to check on Sil-whatever-his-name-is’s condition out of curiosity, and he chuckles.

“You’re really something. To care about that while attacking so ruthlessly.”

Ruthlessly? That’s a bit harsh.

“If it were in the labyrinth, I would have used an axe.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect him to be that weak. I thought he would at least be sturdy since he’s slow.”

It’s an answer I prepared in case things went wrong.

For some reason, the baron bursts into laughter.

“Right, what fault could you possibly have? It’s their fault for not training properly.”

“But even though he’s an apprentice knight, he’s still a noble, isn’t he? Is this really okay?”

“Huh, are you worried about the aftermath? Then don’t worry at all. It happened during a duel, didn’t it?”

“But knights are a family’s asset. What if the titled noble they swore loyalty to harms me?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. In the first place, why would a formal knight, not an apprentice, participate in such entertainment? It’s because there’s no big problem even if they die.”

The baron then assures me that no one would dare to make enemies with him over such a trivial matter, and even if that were to happen, he would protect me.

It’s exactly what I wanted to hear.

“So just focus on winning. I saw that the crowd’s reaction was good, the more you rampage, the more pleased the Count who hosted the banquet will be.”

Hmm, if that’s the case…

I guess it’s okay to smash all their heads without worry.

The priest’s ability looked amazing too.

“The winner is Sir Tillyan of the Hensleben Viscountcy!”

Afterwards, I watch the duels with the baron and wait for my turn. It was quite entertaining at first, but I soon lose interest.

Their fighting styles are all too similar.

Now I understand why the crowd went wild during my turn.

‘Is it because they’re nobles even though they’re just branch families? They have no showmanship.’

I’m a bit tired, so I ask for the baron’s permission and take a nap in a corner.

How much time has passed?

The butler wakes me up very carefully.

“…He, hey, there’s someone lo, looking for you.”

“Someone looking for me?”

Although it’s a bit sudden, the butler finishes his sentence and disappears before I can ask any further.

Therefore, I go out to check.

But what is this again?

‘The three knight assholes?’

Two of the three are standing there.

And before I can even ask what they want, one of them reaches out to grab my collar.

I don’t know his name…

…but he’s the one who badmouthed me, calling me Little Clown or whatever.

“You bas—!”

I step back slightly and dodge his hand, and Little Clown freezes in embarrassment and then continues,

“Keu, ahem. You bastard! What did you do to Sir Silbenia?!”

“Silbenia?”

So that was his name.

I mean, his name was…

“Sil… Meria…”

“It’s Sir Silbenia!!”

“Right, did something happen to him?”

The two of them start trembling at my question.

“Don’t play dumb…! That bastard goes crazy whenever your name comes up!”

“How could you be so cruel? Even if you have a grudge, to put someone in that state… do you have no mercy or honor?”

Mercy and honor?

That’s not something a guy who said he would behead me within 10 seconds should be saying.

I make my final diagnosis.

“…I didn’t know his condition was this serious.”

We need to resolve this quickly.

“What are you doing here?”

The commotion ends as Baron Martoan peeks his head out from beyond the tent.

The two of them hurriedly leave as soon as they see his face, as if they have something to hide.

“…Who were those?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Anyway, come here. I just had a good idea, and I’m curious if it’s actually possible.”

Afterwards, we return to the tent and kill time with idle chatter with the baron, and soon the first round of the tournament ends.

And the quarterfinals begin.

But is this what the shaman meant by the ‘fate of a hero’?

“Sir Quartean of the Serphia Barony and Bjorn Yandel of the Martoan Barony, please take your positions!”

Surprisingly, I’m matched against one of the three knight assholes in the second round.

It’s the one with the braggart attribute.

“Don’t expect it to be like before.”

He starts spouting lines even as the duel begins.

“Although it’s embarrassing to say this myself, Sir Silbenia is the weakest among us—”

It’s actually easier than the first time.

I take advantage of the opening while he’s muttering and dash forward.

And…

“Uh, uh…?”

Whether he’s surprised and swings his sword or not…

…I reach out and grab his neck…

…and then deliver a sincere punch to his temple.

Thwack—!

The guy collapses to the ground limply as the flesh and bones of his head are crushed. It all happened within 3 seconds of the duel starting.

However…

“Waaaaaaaa!”

“Do that again next time!!”

“Knight Crusher! Knight Crusher!”

Despite the duel ending so quickly, the crowd erupts in cheers of excitement.

It’s truly ironic.

‘They’re enjoying the sight of a man’s head being smashed.’

Who’s the barbarian here?

_______________________________

「Character’s fame has increased by +10.」

「Character’s fame has increased by +10…….」

「…….」

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