Barbarian Quest

Olga pondered as he looked into Urich's fierce eyes. He thought, ‘Challenging the Great Chief was something I had to do someday. But I didn’t plan on it being so soon.’

Olga did not revere Urich and found it difficult to accept the changes the Great Chief advocated. Unlike Urich, he neither admired nor loved the civilized people—he merely faced them with nothing but hatred and anger. He could not understand Urich, who surrounded himself with and commanded various civilized people.

“Hooo.”

Olga let out a long breath as he sharpened his gaze.

Even though they did not share the same ideals, he did not deny that Urich was a formidable warrior. It wasn’t just rumors; Olga had seen firsthand the feats Urich had accomplished, and it was undeniable that he was a man who truly deserved the title ‘Son of the Earth.’ He was born as a human, yet he was stronger and faster than any beast.

‘Honestly, I don’t think I can win.’

Olga chuckled and briefly looked up at the sky.

‘If I am destined to become the Great Chief, I will win; if not, I will lose.’

That was also how Urich had risen to the position of Great Chief, rising from the depths of despair to uphold the will of the heavens.

“Yeah, at noon.”

Urich nodded in response.

As the news of a duel for the position of Great Chief quickly spread throughout the entire Alliance Army, some chiefs tilted their heads in confusion.

“A duel… at a time like this?”

“If the Great Chief dies, we’re finished. How would we manage the Alliance with the civilized people without our Great Chief?”

“We have to stop Olga.”

“Do you really think the Great Chief would lose to Olga? I doubt it.”

The duel brought anxiety because if Urich were to fall, the Alliance Army would descend into chaos. No one believed Olga could wield the same control as Urich.

With the palpable tension in the air, Olga sharpened his spear and waited for the time to come.

‘I rushed it.’

Though he regretted it, the words were already out. If he backed out of the duel, the reputation he had built as a warrior his entire life would be tarnished.

“Olga.”

Six-Fingered, with his face painted dark, approached Olga, exuding the familiar, thick smell of blood.

“What… is it… Six-Fingered?”

Olga glared. Although the two shared conservative values, their methods differed.

‘Despicable man.’

Olga knew well of Six-Fingered's actions and that he was a vile opportunist, but the priest was on his side for now.

“I have divined the outcome of your duel.”

Olga squinted upon seeing Six-Fingered's nails stained red with dried blood.

“What did you… offer as a sacrifice? A… pig? A chicken?”

“…A person.”

Upon hearing that, Olga set down the whetstone, twisting his lips.

“You managed… to sacrifice a hu…man?”

“Stealing away one prisoner is nothing. Beware of fire, Olga. When I asked the spirits about your fate, they whispered fire. The sky will be dyed red.”

Six-Fingered spoke with a foul stench coming from his mouth and scratched Olga’s cheek with his long nails.

“Fire?”

“Fire will determine your fate.”

Six-Fingered shuddered briefly, then spat the chewed herb onto the ground.

“I will… keep that in mind.”

Olga nodded.

“The current Great Chief has abandoned the heavens and our ancestors and worships the religion of the civilized. Because of that, the great ancestors will watch over you, Olga.”

Six-Fingered nodded slightly and left. Alone again, Olga continued sharpening his spear.

Clang!

Sparks flew as Six-Fingered's words kept lingering in Olga’s mind.

‘Fire and lightning are the symbols of the Great Chief.’

Urich, the Son of the Earth, had achieved countless feats, but the Battle of Valdima and the duel with Samikan were already considered legends.

In the Battle of Valdima, he used fire to overturn an overwhelming disadvantage and nearly annihilated the imperial pursuit force. When captured by Samikan, it was lightning that saved him. Great Chief Urich was shrouded in divine protection bestowed by the heavens.

“My fate will be determined by fire, huh…”

Olga skipped his meal and steadied his resolve instead. Having an empty stomach seemed to help sharpen his senses.

Schring.

He focused his mind as he gazed at the sharp spearhead before stepping out of his tent to be greeted by the glances of many warriors.

Among them was Katagi, who stood with his arms crossed.

“It’s not too late, Olga. If you ask to cancel the duel, the Great Chief will gladly accept it.”

Katagi tried to persuade Olga, standing in his way. Though he did not like Olga, he recognized him as a capable warrior and losing a warrior like him before such an important battle was not a desirable outcome at all.

“I cannot take back… the words I have already spoken. Get… out of my way.”

Olga pushed Katagi aside and continued forward as he felt the gazes of the warriors.

In the distance, the civilized people were also observing the situation, confused as to why on earth the westerners would have a duel right before a battle of such high importance.

“Ah, Olga.”

Urich smiled from his chair upon seeing Olga.

“Great Chief Urich, you… have disregarded our… traditions,” Olga murmured, extending his spear.

Clang!

In response, Urich picked up his sword and axe and clashed them lightly to make a crisp, metallic sound.

“Hey, I accepted your challenge according to our tradition, didn’t I? And let me make it clear that I never wanted to be a ‘king’ like the civilized people. No matter what anyone thinks or says, I am your Great Chief. If a warrior greater than I appears, I will step aside anytime, and if they defeat me, I will bless them as the next Great Chief without any resentment. So, if you want my blessing and glory, seize it with your own hands, Olga.”

Olga’s eyes widened as his heart pounded. Whether it was Urich or Samikan, Olga would have challenged the Great Chief for their position someday.

‘Maybe all this talk about tradition is just an excuse.’

Being born a man and rising to the top alone was reason enough to fight.

Olga held the spear high with both hands to stab downward from his eye level, taking advantage of his long arms that gave him a wider attacking range. His muscles were highly elastic, enabling him to close down any gaps despite his large movements.

‘As expected of the Great Chief. I can’t find any openings even though he’s taken a relaxed stance.’

Olga did not move first.

Urich was lightly swinging his weapon with his arms hanging down to his waist. His stance was low, like a predator about to hunt.

If Olga was a raptor, Urich was a four-legged predator. He moved on only his toes, closing the distance.

‘If I get stabbed by that spear, I’ll die. No matter how tough my body is, it’s all for naught if my heart or neck gets stabbed.’

Urich knew that there was no need to look at the spearhead because what moved first were the arms and shoulders. He knew that by the time you noticed the spearhead, it would already be too late, so he kept his eyes on Olga’s arms.

Despite the presence of thousands of warriors, there wasn’t a single word of chatter but only the sound of breathing.

“Hooo.”

Olga and Urich exhaled softly and then swallowed their breaths again. Breathing always created openings, and it was better to keep the number of breaths to the minimum when facing an enemy. Controlling one’s breath was a common skill in warriors who have survived many battlefields.

Varca, the Head of Porcana, watched the duel from afar on horseback.

‘Is this the world Urich has lived in?’

What Urich and Olga were doing was something unimaginable in the civilized world. The westerners were deciding on a position equal to a king of civilization through a duel, yet no one stopped it as they valued warrior ethics and upheld traditions.

‘They must have lived their lives honing themselves with death always by their side.’

Urich’s life and existence shone like a finely crafted gem, and it shone brilliantly no matter where it was viewed from.

‘I’m sure that even if you die, you’ll die with a smile on your face.’

Varca knew that he must not stop the duel even though he wanted to, as this was what Urich had accepted.

Buuuup!

There was an unexpected trumpet out of nowhere, momentarily drawing the gazes of the warriors who had been holding their breaths.

Whoosh!

Urich and Olga moved simultaneously. Olga’s spear struck fiercely, and Urich’s sword followed the spear’s trajectory.

Urich pushed Olga’s spear aside which then grazed Urich’s side.

Whoosh!

Urich swung his axe with his other hand, aiming for Olga’s ankle.

Olga narrowly jumped to avoid the axe in a rather comical, frog-like leap. Fighting was never supposed to be glamorous in the first place. Twisting one’s body awkwardly to save and target lives—this was the essence of combat.

Urich and Olga exchanged several attacks while the trumpet sounded. Olga leaped backward, increasing the distance.

‘If I keep clashing without taking any breaths, Urich has a huge advantage and I stand no chance. I couldn’t kill him with the first strike, so I must look for another opening.’

Countless thoughts raced through Olga’s mind.

“Uuuurich!” A voice familiar to Urich shouted from a distance.

Urich and Olga watched each other as the bone-chilling tension gradually subsided.

Clink.

Urich was the first to tap the ground with his sword, releasing his combat stance, and only then did Olga spit on the ground and lower his spear.

Murmur, murmur.

The warriors parted to the sides, revealing a dark and human-shaped figure that was emitting a terrible stench.

“Georg, what the hell did you do?” Urich asked.

“I did what you asked me to do!” Georg shouted, spitting repeatedly along with the other civilized mercenaries behind him.

“Did you find it?” Urich asked again.

Georg nodded with a wide grin, baring his teeth. Urich’s eyes widened. He threw his weapon aside and ran over.

“Holy shit! Come here, Georg! Let me give you a big hug!”

Urich jumped and lifted Georg in an embrace. Georg wheezed, feeling like his body was being crushed.

Urich didn’t care about Georg’s filthy state and rubbed himself all over him to show how joyful the news Georg brought was. Georg had found the clue to their conquest.

“G-gugh, l-let me… down… please...”

Georg grumbled as he stripped off his dirty clothes and doused himself in water. Only then did his human-like face appear.

“Let’s go, my brothers! The heart of civilization awaits us!”

Urich raised his arm high and shouted. The warriors didn’t know the details but understood that Urich had found a way to attack Hamel.

“Oooooh!”

The warriors shouted, jumping up and down.

“Olga! It seems the ancestors don’t want us to fight today!”

Urich laughed, patting Olga on the shoulder.

“I think so… too.”

Olga had no intention of fighting Urich any longer today. It was time to fight the real enemy.

The end of the sewer Georg had found was located on a mountain behind the city of Hamel. The empire had dug caves in the mountains to connect with the sewer where the waste flowed down the mountainside and mixed into a large river.

“Do you know how hard it was to get out of there? We didn’t have enough torches, so I had to memorize the turns and write them down later. I thought my head would explode.”

Georg, freshly cleaned, indulged in the food. Though the Alliance Army was short on provisions, Urich spared no expense in treating Georg.

“You deserve to eat, Georg.”

“Of course I do! Goddammit, I wandered in that cesspool for over a day. I thought I’d go mad.”

Georg patted his stomach and pulled out a dirty parchment to reveal a messy map, but it didn’t take long for him to refine it meticulously from memory.

“Did you meet anyone in the sewer?” Urich asked.

“Huh? There was no one there. Besides, who would go to such a place? It was truly horrible. Really.”

“Alright, never mind, then.”

Urich scratched his chin.

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