Make the Barbarians Great Again

Ch. 3



Chapter 3: The Life of a Warrior (1)

Blood Bear.

He was the red nightmare of the Great Snowfields and a monster whom even Grandma—who used to frighten Grandfather—heard stories about as a child.

Not only was he strong, but he was cunning beyond ordinary, someone difficult even for the Parno to deal with easily.

A guy like that, lying there with his flesh peeled off?

“There’s no way!”

He shouted angrily, glaring at Hindir.

He must have sourced a plausible bear hide, dyed it bright red, and proudly displayed it as a trophy.

He couldn’t accept any other explanation.

“What kind of bastard are you?”

“I am Hindir.”

“I do not care about your name! You surely know the lord of this land is Snowlit Crimson—but what are you aiming for by showing up?”

Hindir sneered, glancing alternately at Chaaju and Duar standing behind.

“There is no true owner of nature. If I had to choose, that guy is more fit to be master of this land than you.”

As Hindir looked at Blood Bear’s hide, Chaaju’s face turned even redder.

“You may have found something decently plausible, magnificent one. But we’re not fools who would fall for such crude deception. Are we or not!”

“…….”

“Yes or no!”

“I‑I agree!”

As his subordinate hesitated, he pressed again for the answer he wanted, and Chaaju proudly brandished the greatsword strapped to his back.

‘That body is imposing…’

No matter how tough a body is, it cannot stop a sword.

If the opponent were a master of martial arts, that would be different—but in his own mana‑sensitive sensing, the opponent’s mana level was extremely low.

If a great master were hiding their strength, they would conceal it perfectly—they wouldn’t leak it ambiguously like that.

“Answer the question! What is your intent?”

Hindir silently looked at Chaaju.

He wore a threatening expression, but the cold sweat gathered at the bridge of his nose was clearly visible.

His mind stubbornly denied it, but his instincts already knew.

Not to fight.

Hindir did not enjoy fighting those who were already scared.

“Don’t waste your strength. Sit over there. I have questions.”

Despite the sword pointed at him, Hindir calmly indicated a spot across the campfire, and Chaaju’s body trembled.

“You don’t need to pretend pride by acting confident. Especially scum like you who live off your sword should read the room carefully. If you don’t want to die early.”

“You bastard!”

Screeeeech—

Chaaju lost his composure and swung his blade at Hindir.

He swung it hastily, so his footing was unstable—but he forcibly drew in mana to steady the blade, so surely in the marketplace he was rumored to wield a sword well.

But he was at best a street‑tough.

He might not see it himself, but skill is visible even in outward motions without mana.

Hindir, still seated, swung an arm outward.

He struck exactly where the fist had flown, and the blade shattered with a sharp crack.

“Oh?”

The attack, loaded with weight, dissipated into the air—Chaaju lost his balance and fell toward Hindir.

Hindir retracted his arm and thrust toward Chaaju’s abdomen.

Thwack!

It looked like a light tap—but accompanied by an unnatural sound, Chaaju’s body flew through a flurry of snow.

Boom!

He crashed into a large tree trunk, coughed up a fistful of blood—and then lay motionless.

“…….”

His subordinate, left alone, dropped his jaw in shock.

But he quickly regained composure and did something astonishing.

“T‑thank you for rescuing me! I was dragged here after being captured by that bastard…”

“Stop. You already look like a bandit.”

“…please spare me.”

“He’s not dead either.”

“He’s not dead? Damn. Then I feel like I should get hit so that guy won’t bother me later… Could you just lightly hit me?”

“…….”

He didn’t seem to be of sound mind.

Whether stunned by the shock or normally like that.

“What’s your name?”

“Du… Duar.”

“Du‑Duar.”

“Duar.”

“Sit down.”

“Yes.”

Duar knelt opposite Hindir.

“Sit comfortably.”

“This is comfortable.”

It was clearly not comfortable to anyone—but Hindir didn’t repeat himself.

“What are you guys? Snowlit Crimson?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bandits?”

“No.”

If they weren’t bandits, why were they roaming around looking like that and swinging swords at anyone?

“If you say it like that, I have nothing to defend—but…”

In any case, it became clear they were basically the same as bandits.

Then there was another curious thing.

“If you’re bandits in the Great Snowfields—Parno’s clan would have killed you straight away, right?”

Even in the past, the Great Snowfields were often sought by fugitives from the continent.

As many newcomers formed power groups among themselves and caused trouble, Parno never tolerated armed forces rampaging in their territory.

Yet these ragged bandits were talking about the land as theirs—and they were still alive; it was astonishing.

“Well… Snowlit Crimson is allied with the Parno clan?”

“What?”

Hindir, unusually, looked greatly taken aback.

“Why would Parno?”

“Sir?”

But Duar was equally flustered at the question.

In truth, what Hindir asked was something everyone living in the Great Snowfields already knew.

It was so obvious that he didn’t even know the reason why.

“What benefit does Parno get from teaming up with bandits?”

“We take care of monsters… and those lowlifes from the continent… Ahem. I mean the ones worse than us. Anyway, we handle them, gather up the uncertain ones and manage them…”

“So they’re leaving the annoying tasks to you.”

“That’s exactly it.”

That didn’t sound like the Parno he knew.

Most nobles were like that, but Parno was among the most prideful he had ever seen.

For them to join hands with bandits...

‘Ah.’

Suddenly, Hindir realized.

‘I keep trying to think in terms of five hundred years ago.’

The Parno he remembered no longer existed.

The current Parno enslaved the Charun tribe.

Teaming up with bandits was nothing.

“Oh! That reminds me—I forgot the most important part.”

“?”

“We manage Blood Bear. That bastard is so elusive we have surveillance bases scattered everywhere. We came from one of them—Hurakche.”

“You mean that bear is Blood Bear?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“…You manage him?”

“…We just monitor his movements from afar. Wait, but is that really Blood Bear?”

“I don’t know. This is my first time hearing the name Blood Bear. But the creature had an extraordinary aura, so it probably is.”

“Wow… He hadn’t been seen in a while and everyone was freaking out, turns out he was already dead…”

It was rare for Chaaju to go on patrol himself.

He had stepped out in person because of recent orders from headquarters—and happened to run into Hindir.

“But you don’t know Snowlit Crimson or Blood Bear? Are you from outside?”

“……”

It was a question not easily answered.

Duar interpreted that silence in his own way.

“Well, who around here in the Great Snowfields, especially stuck in Snow Dragon Valley, doesn’t have a story? All of us in Snowlit Crimson are the same—we gathered under the Snowy King…”

“Wait. What did you just say?”

“Yes?”

Hindir suddenly cut him off and glared—making Duar’s tension shoot back up.

“Snowy King?”

“Y‑Yes.”

“You said you were bandits?”

“I never admitted we were bandits… but yeah, roughly the same.”

“And your bandit boss calls himself a king? I’m surprised he’s still alive pulling a stunt like that. You’re saying Parno sided with such a lunatic?”

“W‑Why are you getting so worked up? The one who seems most insane here is…”

The world had gone mad.

The Kronik royal family always declared—

Under the sky, there was only one king, and they would never allow another to bear that title.

They were so ruthless they’d execute entire families just for children pretending to be kings in the mountains.

“Did Kronik fall or something?”

“Geez… Even if this is the edge of the northern lands, don’t say things like that.”

“Yeah, that’s the proper reaction.”

Still, irritation boiled up within him.

Charun fell due to the royal family’s pride, yet five hundred years later, someone like the Snowy King existed…

“Hoo… I’m not usually an emotional person, but this really pisses me off.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going to meet this Snowy King.”

He had to see for himself what kind of lunatic this was.

He genuinely hoped the man lived up to his name.

The next day, Hindir quickly finished preparations for departure.

Not that he had anything to prepare with in the first place—just the hide of Blood Bear.

Meanwhile, Duar was still trying to figure out how to make sense of what was happening to him.

He thought he’d stayed up all night, but since Chaaju had disappeared by morning, he must’ve dozed off at some point.

“Um… was he actually dead? Did you get rid of the body?”

“He pretended to be unconscious and ran away.”

“He pretended? Since when?”

“Since you dragged him near the fire.”

“…And you just let that bastard go?”

“Should I have killed him?”

“That guy is so petty, he’ll come back for revenge… No wait, what am I saying in front of someone who plans to fight the Snowy King…”

Shaking his head, Duar cursed Chaaju for slipping away.

“That bastard should’ve taken me too, damn it.”

“You passed out and fell asleep quickly. Didn’t think of running away?”

“…Of course I planned to run if I got the chance. I was trying to stay awake and hold out…”

Hindir chuckled at the shameless response.

From his presence and posture, it was clear this guy was far from a fighter.

Maybe Chaaju dragged him along because of that brazen personality and uncontrollable mouth.

Exactly the kind of guy you'd want around just to mess with.

“…You’re lucky. Still alive without taking a blade.”

“Who, that bastard Chaaju?”

“Forget it.”

Hindir slung the Blood Bear’s hide over his shoulder.

Though it had no strap, his massive shoulders, rivaling even Blood Bear’s, held the heavy hide in place.

A towering figure with red skin, cloaked in red leather under the white snowy mountains.

Seeing that, Duar shivered involuntarily.

“Ugh… Why is it suddenly so cold? Idiot, of course it’s cold.”

“Lead the way.”

“Ah, yes.”

Duar began leading Hindir down from Snow Dragon Valley.

But it didn’t take long before they hit a problem.

“…I’m sorry. I’ve actually never been this deep in before.”

Duar lowered his head in embarrassment, admitting he was lost.

“This is Snow Dragon Valley. A place where once you step in, it’s not easy to get out.”

Hindir knew that well—he had visited Snow Dragon Valley five hundred years ago.

It was one of the largest and most treacherous regions across the entire continent.

“If we keep looking and find something familiar, we should be able to head straight to Hurakche.”

But that hope was quickly dashed, as Duar struggled to find the way.

While they were traveling for quite some time, Hindir suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?”

“I sense people.”

“Isn’t it that bastard Chaaju? He probably brought his men.”

But Hindir shook his head.

“The presence is different. There’s someone much stronger among them.”

“Stronger… than Chaaju? Then they must not be from Hurakche.”

“We don’t know the way either, so let’s meet them.”

“Uh… do we have to? There’s no way anyone we meet in a place like this is normal.”

“Duly noted.”

“……”

Hindir confidently walked toward where the presence was coming from, and Duar hurried to follow him.

“But shouldn’t we at least try to approach secretly or something?”

“Why bother?”

“Well…”

Ever since yesterday, Hindir kept asking things so obvious it made Duar feel like an idiot.

Maybe he was being persuaded by that massive frame and sheer confidence.

But surely, he wasn’t like that… right?

“…Would it be okay if I ran away now?”

“If they know the way, go ahead.”

That was basically the same as telling him no, and Duar drooped in disappointment.

“Then I’ll go hide somewhere.”

Choosing the most realistic option, Duar groaned as he climbed up onto a large nearby rock.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.