Barbarian in a Failed Game

015: The Guide (3)

Khan instinctively protected his vitals as he raised his arm to shield himself from the light and stepped back to gain some distance.

Swoosh! Something that seemed to be blades hissed past, scraping his forearm, collarbone, and waist from three directions.

Fortunately, two of the attacks were harmlessly deflected by his light gray fur, but a burning sensation slicing across his forearm was unavoidable.

‘A dagger, optimized for slashing… Poison, perhaps?’

Such calculations flashed through his mind.

Meanwhile, two attackers from the side closed in rapidly, evidently intent on not giving Khan any room to recover. Noticing the unusual toughness of Khan’s fur, they relentlessly targeted his exposed arms and neck, swinging their daggers.

Swoosh! Swoosh!

No sooner had Khan dodged a diagonal slash by leaning his waist backward, than an ominous noise reached his ears. The sound of a tightly drawn string being released!

‘Crossbow!’

His body reacted before his brain could process the thought, dropping to the ground to make himself a smaller target. A twang! followed by a streak of dark light flashed by.

‘What are they planning?’

After the surprise attack with what he assumed were poison-coated daggers, they tried to exploit the opening with a coordinated crossbow shot.

These were not amateurs but skilled professionals, presumably mercenaries specialized in fighting humans.

With Khan avoiding even the crossbow bolt, a brief moment of agitation was visible among the attackers.

However, that moment was fleeting. With two attackers wielding daggers attempting to strike him down as if hammering a nail, Khan couldn’t just lie there.

“Uh! Cha!”

Bang──!

Pushing off the ground with his uninjured hand, Khan propelled himself upwards. In the process, he struck one of the attackers in the abdomen, sending him crashing through the tavern’s wall.

‘One down.’

“…Dammit!”

“Attack now, don’t give him time to react!”

The surviving dagger-wielder exclaimed in shock as the crossbow-wielding one urged him on. Khan assessed the situation quickly and launched himself forward.

[Leap]

Matching his stature, the weight of Khan’s leap could be compared only to an armored knight, further amplified by a skill that accelerated his movement. The impact on the dagger-wielder was akin to a cavalry charge. Boom──!

What happened next didn’t need to be seen. After both dagger-wielders were sent crashing through the walls, the crossbow-wielder hesitated briefly before fleeing towards the door.

‘Running away, you scum.’

Khan picked up a dropped dagger and threw it with precision enhanced by his skill, letting his superhuman strength draw a straight line towards the target. The leg of the fleeing man was cut right through.

“Aaagh…!”

Khan spat out, perhaps to relieve the discomfort caused by the poison. He roughly grabbed the crossbow-wielder by the hair, noticing strands falling out due to his excessive force.

‘Maybe that was a bit too much?’

“At least you were ugly to begin with… Just consider it a career change to being bald. Hey, stand up.”

“Let go…!”

“Not a chance. Stay still unless you want to end up completely bald.”

It seems even the unsightly value their hair. The man stopped resisting, and Khan roughly threw him back into the tavern, along with the two dagger-wielders.

Unfortunately for the dagger-wielders, they were already bald, leaving nothing to grab onto.

“Who sent you? Three. Two. One…”

“Nobody did!”

“What nonsense is that? You ambush someone with a knife for no reason. Is this some random act of violence?”

“Money… There were rumors you were carrying a huge amount of gold…!”

“Hmm.”

The rumor had already spread? Khan rubbed the scar on his chin as he pondered.

“Who told you this tale.”

“I don’t know! It just spread among mercenaries, like a race to see who gets to you first! And… And I didn’t expect a monster like you…”

The crossbow-wielder shook his head in dismay. While his story roughly added up, Khan couldn’t shake off a feeling of disquiet.

The rapid spread of the rumor was one thing, but the fact that they decided to attack within a few hours seemed excessive.

‘How many have fallen by my hands already? They should know that rushing me would only lead to their demise…?’

Then, it hit him.

“Did you come back to Nordic last night?”

“How did you…?”

“Figures.”

Khan nodded as if things were finally making sense.

The deputy priest, whom Aries was set to meet, had returned to the nearby city from a trip just last night. As a prominent figure and a cleric, it was unlikely he traveled alone. Most likely, he was accompanied by mercenaries.

These three must have been part of the group that left Nordic with the deputy priest and had just returned. Unaware of the dangerous rumors surrounding Khan, they were enticed by tales of vast wealth being carried by a ‘barbarian’ and impulsively attacked.

“It was a trap.”

“What, what?”I no longer have any business with those fools who were used like idiots. With indifference, Khan flicked his wrist, knocking out the crossbow fiend into unconsciousness, and then swept the surroundings with his search skill.
‘Nine, ten, fifteen, looks like it’s about twenty in total….’
“To kill a Nordic mercenary in the city─!”
“The little bugger. What do you mean killed?”
Just then, as if waiting for the moment, Khan burst into a sneer at the shouting coming from outside the tavern.
It seemed they were convinced that Khan had definitely killed the three hapless brothers.
Not entirely wrong, though. Had it been another person from the Frost Gorge, they’d have gone for the neck first.
“You! Savage brute─! Show yourself at once. I shall execute you on the spot with my sword!”
Khan didn’t need to see to know. He could tell armed groups with bows, crossbows, spears, and shields were surrounding the tavern.
Such formidable armament was beyond the means of regular city soldiers. Mercenaries, most likely. Despite all the bluster about execution and whatnot.
Khan acted as if he wasn’t surrounded at all, stuffing the three brothers under a tavern table and preemptively settling the bill for the wall he had broken and those he would break.
Only then did he step outside the tavern to face the crowd eyeing him.
‘A phrase comes to mind. Black armor with two red spears crossed over it. The Nero guys, right?’
The Nero Mercenary Group were the ones Khan had clashed with upon his arrival in Nordic. When they taunted him for entering the city as a barbarian, he personally broke a limb or two in response.
That they were Nordic’s largest mercenary band was something he found out later.
Knowing who they were made the situation clear – either revenge or a matter of saving face. Of course, there could be other reasons, but those two were the first that came to mind.
“So the rumors of barbarian being brutal and ignorant were true! To murder a mercenary of the city and show your face so shamelessly!”
“That’s funny, telling me to come out.”
“…Lay down your weapons and surrender at once! If you do, you shall be granted a trial. If you resist, however!”
“And what if I resist?”
The all-back haired middle-aged man, shiny from oil, was speechless in response to Khan’s retort.
This was Nero, the leader of the Nero Mercenary Group.
The owner of a force comprising over twenty mercenaries, half of whom were veterans. In a world where the sword ruled over the law, he was an exceedingly powerful figure.
But to Khan, such things mattered little. So what?
“Presumptuous! To defy my command atop disrupting the city’s order?!”
“And who are you to say I shouldn’t defy? A commoner, not even a noble. Or are you saying you’re equivalent to the city’s nobility?”
Nero’s face turned thunderous, red with the unexpected blow. First, from trying to make a verbal threat and getting squarely hit back, and second, from the indignation of being disregarded by such a barbarian.
“What’s all this commotion at night?”
“Looks like the mercenaries are at it again… Oh. Isn’t that Nero and that barbarian!”
“They said he was humiliated last time. Look at his face, it’s livid. Seems he’s set on revenge.”
Furthermore, being ridiculed by citizens overhearing the commotion, discussing shame and vengeance, was not to his liking.
I stand here righteously, seeking to punish a lawless barbarian. Why should I endure such remarks?
Nero decided then and there.
To kill him at once. Though ‘he’ had insisted on capturing him alive, what could they do after he was dead?
“Words won’t suffice! Murder and defiance. You’ve committed two grave crimes, so you shouldn’t feel wronged!”
Nero raised his hand, and with that signal, mercenaries armed with bows and crossbows were ready to shoot at any moment.
The moment this hand drops, that brute is finished.
A barbarian, no matter how strong, won’t survive the barrage of arrows and bolts from this distance.
Regardless, Khan cleared his throat and took a step forward.
What wicked deed is this barbarian attempting? That seemed to be the gaze boring into him from all sides. As numerous eyes focused on him, the corners of his mouth began to rise.
Daring to challenge me offhand?
“Pffff.”
A laugh escaped him involuntarily. Despite being surrounded by fully-armed mercenaries, Khan didn’t lose his composure.
Instead, the sight of mercenaries flinching in surprise at his laughter was almost amusing. Coming in a horde and then cowering like cowards. How could he not laugh?
“If you’re so confident, come at me.”
“Is it the barbarian’s arrogance?”
“Are you cowards, not understanding what’s said?”
Khan saw something familiar in Nero’s eyes. A coward’s gaze trying to mask tension and fear with feigned calm.
Whether because of strong armor, numerous allies, or high statuses like knights, mages, or nobles, those who were confident at first always showed such eyes before the actual fight.
A Frost Gorge barbarian, not bowed by numbers, arms, or status, had proven this with the blood of those across the continent.
‘Of course… I’m not a barbarian.’
Yet, when needed, he could act every bit the barbarian.
“Instead of spouting flawed traps, Shut─Up─And─Come─At─Me──!”The shouts of a vast army on the brink of war, the battle cries of the Greenskin warriors, the solemn speech of a lord. No sound could surpass the tremendous spirit that erupted from the voice of a single person, overwhelming the crowd with its volume. Everyone who faced the barbaric roar head-on felt as if they were bound by something invisible. In fact, their bodies simply couldn’t move.

[Warcry(C) – 51%]
– A roar filled with determination to overwhelm the enemy. There’s a chance to inflict ‘Status Ailment: Stun,’ ‘Status Ailment: Fear.’

The mercenaries who directly took the full brunt of Khan’s ‘Warcry’ shuddered so visibly that it was pitiful to watch. The difference in levels was likely the reason they couldn’t escape the status ailments. At least Nero, being somewhat of a captain, only suffered a brief stiffness.

“Little one. Quite the bite.” Khan chuckled, reaching down to his axe tied at his waist.

“There are five crossbows. Ten bows. Five carry shields and spears. The distance between us is roughly twenty steps.” Even considering the status ailments, it would be no easy task to reach them before the ready crossbows and bows could fire.

“It’s better to dodge the first shot as much as possible than to block it with an axe. Then…” There’d inevitably be scrapes on his skin, but as long as he avoided vital points, a quick fix from Aries later would suffice.

Alright. Here goes. The moment Khan lightly stepped forward, Nero, having recovered from the stiffness, roared.

“Fire—! You bastards!”

The night was unusually bright under the moonlight. Nonetheless, it was impossible to catch all the stealthily painted crossbows in action. Ordinary people couldn’t even spot their trajectories.

But Khan was different. An agility stat of 34 allowed him to see and react to crossbows bolts depending on the distance. Khan spotted thin black lines being fired towards different parts of his body. He twisted his body and swung his axe. Two bolts grazed him; one was knocked away by the broad side of the axe.

It was a remarkable feat of skill, but he couldn’t deal with the successive two bolts and direct arrows fired at him in the same way. Instead, Khan spread out his fur cloak and rushed forward.

[White Wolf’s Fur Cloak]
– The leader of the white wolves that endure the harsh winters of the frostbitten valleys. Crafted by a master artisan, it possesses high physical resistance.
– Projectile Resistance: Provides moderate resistance against projectiles.
– Winter’s Blessing: Grants strong resistance against the cold.
– Agility +2

As bolts and arrows were deflected off the ‘White Wolf’s Fur Cloak,’ Khan, ignoring the resistance felt, charged ahead, and mercenaries with shields attempted to block him. But once distance was allowed, their resistance was futile.

The formation crumbled with a thud at the light kick of Khan’s foot. To stop him with merely a shield, knights, not mercenaries, would have been needed. As the line easily broke, the bewildered men awaited Nero’s command.

Khan smirked provocatively at Nero. How long will you hold back?

“Insolent—!” An unfitting bellow for a middle-aged man burst forth. Nero, drawing his sword, ran towards Khan, choosing to confront him head-on despite witnessing Khan’s formidable strength.

Khan snorted and, like lightning, struck down Nero’s sword with his hand axe.
The clash of Khan’s one-handed axe strike and Nero’s sword sent Nero flying back ten steps, his face contorted in shock.

Khan tilted his head. Did he withstand that? Could he be a retired knight? It was odd; though he was knocked back ten steps, the fact that he was still intact was extraordinary.

“Good. Tougher than expected.” But this did not tip the scales of victory. If anything, it eliminated the need for restraint.

Excited at the thought of using some strength for the first time in a while, Khan’s lips curved into a smirk, while Nero, stiffening, halted his steps in surprise.

Going again. Khan muttered and dashed forward once more. The mercenaries, trying to protect their captain, shook with helpless expressions. How could they stop someone leaping over human heights like an arrow?

“You—cur!” Perhaps feeling humiliated, Nero clenently gripped his sword, the intensity unmistakable. The sound of bones creaking faintly could be heard, perhaps from gripping too hard.

Without care, Khan raised his axe to strike down from above. No, he tried to strike down.

“Stop! Cease this at once!” An elderly voice pierced through as someone rushed between Khan and Nero.

In this unexpected situation, Khan twisted his arm, altering the path of his axe, while Nero’s sword strived straightforward, aiming to penetrate the head of the intervenor and Khan’s throat simultaneously.

In that moment—
Gleaming white hair, adorned with droplets of blood, fluttered amidst the moonlight.