Make the Barbarians Great Again

Chapter 10: The Life of a Warrior (8)

Ubol’s movements were decidedly not those of a drunk.

Hindir stood motionless, merely watching as Ubol attacked, the blade stopping just before his nape in a tense pause.

“…Have you lost your guts? Or did you freeze up out of fear?”

“It was an utterly predictable attack.”

“Shut up. Speak properly.”

Ubol slowly pivoted, keeping the blade aimed at Hindir’s neck.

“Did the sect ask you to check what I was doing?”

“I am not part of the Snowy King’s army.”

“Don’t bullshit. Don’t waste our time with things nobody will believe.”

As Hindir attempted to move, Ubol pressed the blade to his throat.

“Heh—if you don’t want your neck cut, don’t move…”

Before he could finish, Hindir flicked the blade upward with his shoulder.

It was a light move, but Ubol failed to react and could not control the blade that bounced off.

Thud—!

At that moment, Hindir’s fist struck Ubol in the abdomen.

“Ugh… urghh!”

Ubol collapsed immediately, vomiting violently.

“Even if you burn it with mana, if you drink like that your body can’t hold up. You thought you were acting perfectly, but in truth you were drunk. If you’re plotting something, you’d be wise to change your strategy now.”

“Huff… huff… ugh… you bastard. Just you… wait…!”

But when Ubol tried to get up, he staggered and collapsed again.

The suppressed drunkenness erupted through his entire body, and he was truly drunk.

Hindir simply observed him silently, then picked up a bottle of liquor from the table and exited the chamber.

“Everything okay?”

Duar, who had been waiting, asked Hindir.

“He was too drunk to have a proper conversation. We’ll stay here, and send Choranchai over after giving him some liquor.”

“Oh! I heard shouting and thought something was wrong.”

“Don’t worry. It ended smoothly without major issue. I’ll go into more detail tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Duar.”

“Yes?”

“You should go back with him.”

“Huh? Why me?”

Duar asked in confusion.

“How long did you think I’d keep you with me? If you speak with Chaaju here, going to the headquarters won’t be difficult. So go back too—whether it means Hurakche or wherever you originally belonged.”

Upon seeing Ubol, Hindir’s instinct spoke to him.

He foresaw that a bloody incident was soon to come.

Of course they had shed much blood in the fight with the Snowy King's army before, but back then Duar had been safe.

That would not be the case now.

Hindir had sensed the trace of blood flowing in the body of the Choranchai Clan’s Chaaju.

‘Parno.’

He was a member of the Parno family.

With the Snowy King’s army, Parno, and himself all in the same place, a major incident was bound to occur.

“Um… you really want me to go?”

“You’ve always wanted to keep running, haven’t you?”

“Of course I did. But didn’t you say things were resolved well by just talking?”

“I never said it was resolved by talking.”

“Oh, really?”

Duar quickly bowed.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Good. From now on, behave and live quietly.”

“I will live as a warrior.”

Hindir nodded in response.

Duar soon headed toward the liquor storehouse with the Choranchai people, while Hindir leaned against a pillar and sipped his drink.

All across Choranchai, crimson blood soaked everything.

Inside lay the bodies of Snowy King’s army members belonging to Choranchai, cooling in the cold.

“Everyone has been dealt with.”

Those who had carried out the massacre bowed and reported before those waiting outside Choranchai.

“Tch. Stinking bastards.”

He was General Bel of the Three Generals.

“Do you really think it makes sense that I’m doing all this because of scum like that?”

At his annoyed question, those before him bowed silently.

They knew he didn’t expect an answer.

“General… no, your execution.”

At that moment, the one who had reported to Bel spoke carefully.

“What? Why the serious atmosphere again?”

“They will definitely speak up.”

“And? What do you expect me to do? Be mindful of bandit scum? Even against trash like that?”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

Tsk tsk…

He clicked his tongue and continued.

“Rendo. And all of you—it wasn’t your intention when you came here to follow your master and imagine a life so insignificant, was it?”

“…No.”

“But look at this. A ridiculous plight where you have to trek across a frigid snowy plain because of rootless bandits.”

Bel spit on the ground and muttered curses.

“By the way, I heard some guy was wearing what looked like Blood Bear bear hide, and he even openly talked about targeting the Snowy King.”

“Yes sir.”

“So is there any reason to spare those bastards? We can just claim they cooperated with the enemy.”

“That’s right.”

“Good. Do you think you all understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s locate the person in question. I’m dying to know how formidable he really is.”

General Bel and his men moved directly toward their next destination.

Along the way where their footsteps led, faint sled tracks appeared.

Snow Dragon Valley was painted red, and dusk settled over the opposite Great Snowfields.

Hindir sat before the campfire blazing among the Choranchai camp, drinking continuously since earlier.

Everyone passing by watched him warily, but no one dared speak.

They didn’t know what conversation had taken place—and if Chaaju remained silent, what could they do?

“But why has Chaaju been quiet since earlier?”

“I don’t know. If you’re curious, you should go ask him yourself.”

“Ah, that’s a bit…”

“But why is Choranchai’s Chaaju saying he won’t go back?”

“Oh, I don’t know. If you’re curious, go ask him!”

“Wait a second. More importantly, Choranchai’s Chaaju… since earlier, hasn’t he been drinking that strong liquor without any anju?”

Already accustomed to the situation, they even began betting on how many bottles of that cheap poison Hindir could drink.

Even though they were talking about it openly, Hindir quietly kept drinking until he suddenly stood up.

“Nine bottles! I win!”

“A person? How can he drink nine bottles without any anju?”

“He’s not even swaying when he walks!”

“Damn, then why doesn’t he drink more… huh?”

But when Hindir got up and suddenly headed out of the Choranchai camp, they were shocked.

Could he really be planning to return to Choranchai now that the sun had completely set?

“Wait! He’s still holding the bottle! It’s not over yet!”

“My heavens!”

Some of them, distracted by other things, ended up cautiously following Hindir.

Though he had not walked far, the snowfield had become fully night.

Moonlight began to shine, revealing his presence and brightening the surroundings.

Under it, Hindir plopped down and began drinking again.

“……”

Perplexed by his inexplicable actions, they stayed silent and just watched.

No one spoke foolishly, but the solemn atmosphere somehow enveloped them too.

“…Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.”

“……Yeah.”

Eventually, with no bet to settle, they turned and returned to the Choranchai camp one by one.

After the last person returned and some time passed, Hindir spoke into the air.

“There's a strong smell of blood—what’s the point of hiding? Quit these meaningless games and come out.”

Having said that, he tilted his head back and took a swig, then lowered his head—and by then a group of people stood before him.

“There’s no mistaking it. Are you Hindir?”

“Yes.”

“I’m General Bel Hasda of the Snowy King’s Third Legion.”

“I like the direct introduction.”

“You insolent bastard. So you’re the one targeting the Snowy King?”

“Has the rumor already reached so far?”

“Hahaha, you madman.”

Bel laughed awkwardly, embarrassed that Hindir admitted it so readily.

Watching him quietly, Hindir suddenly asked:

“Have all the Choranchai guys been killed?”

“They collaborated with someone aiming at the Snowy King, so they had no excuse to live.”

“But judging by how furious you look, I doubt that was your only reason.”

“You’re unusually perceptive. Let me ask one thing: is that hide you’re wearing the Blood Bear’s?”

“They all called it that, but I don’t think many really believed it.”

“No, I do believe it. If that beast was felled by someone unheard-of, it’s obvious.”

Bel continued.

“When did the Blood Bear truly exist? How many people did he slaughter? They added such grand tales to an animal. What was it like, fighting him?”

“Of all the foes I’ve faced since arriving here, he was the strongest.”

“What? Hahaha! You have no idea how many or how strong the opponents you’ve truly faced.”

Bel clutched his belly and laughed exaggeratedly, then wiped the smile from his face.

“That’s the limit of provincials who haven’t seen the continent. Look at that hide—do you think that derided beast is the legendary Blood Bear? Was I ignoring him? Or were all the others just cowards?”

He didn’t really believe in the Blood Bear stories either.

Since Hindir wasn’t particularly invested, instead of arguing, he posed another question.

“This time, I’ll ask one too.”

“I’m listening.”

“Did you encounter anyone on the way here?”

He tilted his head briefly, then answered with an “Ah!”

“Oh—do you mean the sled heading toward Choranchai?”

Bel’s mouth twisted strangely.

“You’ll meet them soon. Rendo!”

At Bel’s call, Rendo and his subordinates charged toward Hindir, who tossed his bottle behind and rushed forward.

Screech—

At the front, a man named Rendo swung first; Hindir bent at the waist and dodged.

Almost rolling, his body hunched like he’d lost his center, hands pressed to the ground.

But the moment his hands touched—bang—with explosive propulsion, he rammed Rendo with his shoulder.

“Ughk!”

Rendo staggered, losing balance as if struck by a boulder.

“Rendo!”

His comrade shouted. He raised his head—but a massive fist already loomed ahead.

Crash!

With a deafening impact like his head being ripped apart, Rendo collapsed and twitched a few times before going still.

“……”

Others hesitated at the surreal sight, but Hindir did not stop.

He grabbed the neck of the man beside him and slammed him face-first into the ground, snapping it.

Certain of death, he leapt again and kicked another man’s head clean off.

“Ugh… ueargh!”

They swung their swords wildly to fend off the relentless Hindir.

Despite their massive size and fierce swings, reality was different.

Their blades never struck him; even when aimed correctly, they bounced off at his gesture.

Thud!

With dull sounds, one after another collapsed.

Soon only four remained.

They stared terror-stricken at Hindir and Bel alternately from a distance.

In their eyes flickered resentment—why hadn’t they intervened yet?

“…Impressive.”

Only then did Bel step forward.

He was drenched in cold sweat.

This was clearly an unforeseen situation.

They could excuse wiping out Choranchai, but losing so many subordinates was a serious matter.

Yet the bigger issue was the tension wrapped around himself.

His mind believed defeat impossible—but his body wanted to avoid this fight.

“Thinking you're powerful, rampaging without knowing reality? Is this how you challenge the Snowy King?”

Bel raised his voice to dispel tension.

Hindir gauged his state and snorted.

“You don’t seem capable of making that judgment.”

“Arrogant…”

Still, Bel’s pride was immense. He mustered all his strength.

A snowstorm whipped, shimmering coldly in moonlight, and somehow Bel felt a surge of confidence.

“You won't die peacefully.”

Before he could finish, a sword shot through the air like lightning reached to within inches of Hindir’s face.