Surviving The Game As A Barbarian Novel - Chapter 739
Chapter 739: Reversed Fate (2)
Gray clouds flew overhead, casting shadows across the open area that the barbarians used to commune and discuss topics of every sort.
The other races usually regulate indoor spaces to be their communal areas, citing concerns about formality and security, but the barbarians felt that was inefficient.
What was the point of gathering indoors and sitting on chairs when they could just stand on their legs and talk?
As a result, the holy land of the barbarians didn’t have a place officially designated as a meeting hall. It was for that reason that Versyl was guided to the common area, open to all, when she asked the head administrator about a place she could use to speak with dozens of people at once.
She couldn’t understand how a group of their population size didn’t have a single building they could use for such occasions.
“Don’t try to understand every little thing. It’ll be much healthier for you if you just accept them as they are.”
However, after she heard the resignation in the head administrator’s voice, Versyl simply nodded in agreement. She could tell that the advice was genuine, and the head administrator wasn’t wrong either. A huge meeting hall would make it more difficult to communicate with dozens of people simultaneously.
And with everyone gathered here like this, there is a sense of equality as well…
Maybe that was the true strength of the barbarians.
Accepting their customs for what they were allowed her to see the positive side of things. However, the many different clan leaders who were called out to the field weren’t so inclined to agree with her.
“Ahem…”
“Why have you called us to the field this morning?”
“Talking about a serious matter in a place like this… Do the barbarians not have a meeting hall of some sort?”
“They don’t.”
“Hah! I heard that they had evolved in some ways, but they still—”
Versyl decided to cut the leaders off there. “That will be enough.”
She could tell the people before her didn’t understand the situation they were in. They were not guests.
I’ll need to say this first.
Versyl decided to make one thing clear before the meeting began.
“It appears this might have gone unnoticed by everyone here, but we are refugees who have run away from the battlefield in search of safety. The barbarians who took us in are the masters of this land.”
One of the leaders cleared their throat uncomfortably.
“As such, I was thinking we take a moment to show them our gratitude for providing us with food and places to stay. What do you think?” When no one responded, she added, “Who knows? If they decide to expel us from here, we might have no choice but to return to District 7.”
Versyl glanced at Ainar, who grinned as she stepped forward. “That’s right, you parasites! You asked us to save you, feed you, and give you beds. If you aren’t completely shameless, you should at least let out a battle cry to show respect and say thanks!”
“B-battle cry?”
“You mean that…B-Behela thing?”
“Of course, you can refuse if you don’t want to do it!” Ainar belted obligingly. “We barbarians respect free will!”
“Ah… Th-then, for religious reasons, I’ll have to decline—”
“Oh! Then you can leave the holy land right now!”
“You said you’d respect my free will!”
“Freedom comes with great responsibility. Don’t you know that?”
The man was rendered mute as Ainar looked him over like he was scum, and the same went for all of the other leaders present.
It was time for Versyl to throw them a carrot.
“Ms. Ainar, please stop. That person over there only refused due to religious reasons. I am sure he is grateful to the barbarian tribe.”
“Oh, really?”
The man took the opportunity to nod. “O-of course. I have my conscience as well.”
The other clan leaders took the opportunity to express their thanks in turn.
“Ms. Fenelin. We truly thank you.”
“Same for us, the Partia Clan. We will never forget this kindness for as long as we live.”
Versyl smothered a satisfied smile at the sight.
More would be gained from allowing them to just say thanks rather than let out the battle cry. At a glance, it might only look like the display of gratitude was merely the bare minimum expected of them, but the small actions taken now would pile up to become the foundation of a closer relationship.
“Vice-captain Gowland.”
“Yes, Captain Erta.”
“Could I hear why you have gathered us all here this morning? I don’t expect it was just so that the many people here could show their gratitude.”
“Ah, this?” Sensing the opportunity, Versyl stepped forward, then spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “As of one hour ago, the barrier between the holy land and District 7 has begun to weaken.”
That short statement served as a thunderous clap of realization to the adventurers, all of whom had let down their guard after coming to the holy land.
“Wh-what do you mean?” one stuttered.
“The Noarkans are the ones who put up that barrier around the holy land in the first place! They can’t afford to pay any attention to us while also fighting against the palace!”
It wasn’t their group the Noarkans were concerned about, but the barbarians who were still living in the holy land, Versyl corrected in her mind. However, that was neither here nor there.
“But why now? For what reason—”
“The reason isn’t important,” Versyl interjected and transitioned to her main point. “The fact remains that the barrier has begun to weaken. When I checked it, it was in the process of naturally dissipating because its supply of mana was severed.”
“Vice-captain. How much time do we have?” one man calmly asked Versyl.
Was he the captain of the Ravraim Clan? she wondered. He had remained steadfastly rational, even among this gaggle of clan leaders whom Versyl wanted to smack over the head—at least once.
She matched his tone in her answer. “It’s not definite, but I estimate we have about one hour.”
“Just one…”
“In any case, that is the situation, so we need to prepare ourselves. I, for my part, can think of only two reasons the barrier might suddenly be being taken down.”
“Could we hear what your thoughts are?”
“First is that there is a genuine problem and the mana supply has been cut off.”
“And the second?”
She turned to look at the man who shouted the question. “The Noarkans now have enough strength. They’ve grown strong enough to eliminate us.”
In truth, Versyl thought the latter was the more likely reason of the two, and it seemed her opinion on the matter was reflected in her words.
A heavy silence followed. The area went deadly quiet, far too quiet for there to be dozens of people present.
The silence ended up being broken by the words of one woman.
“Then what should we do now…?”
Who could say?
Versyl honestly just wanted to toss out an excuse like that, say she didn’t know either, and yet…
“From today onward, you are our clan’s vice-captain.”
That wouldn’t do.
She shut her eyes, took in a steadying breath, then opened her eyes once more and declared, “We need to get ready to fight.”
“What strategy will we be using, if I may ask?”
“We will prioritize defense first and foremost. If we make encampments in front of the gate, they won’t be able to get in easily.”
“I assume there is a step after that?”
“Yes. We will assess the tide of the battle and wait for an opportunity to arise. When it does, shouldn’t we push through their lines?”
“P-push through them…?”
It was a plan none of the leaders could have possibly conceived, as was evident by their wide-eyed stares. However, Versyl just shrugged. She might be a wizard and a ranged damage dealer, but she’d learned her lesson.
“Yes. The best defense is a good offense.”
If she truly wished to protect the things she held dear, she needed to know how to make her hits count.
***
The head administrator of the barbarian tribe, Shavin Emoor, was the busiest person on the land.
As was to be expected, really.
Yet again, the holy land had been swept into another battle, and unfortunately, she was (currently) the one responsible for everything that happened within their borders. Thus, she needed to stay focused and—
“Ms. Emoor, I’ve brought you some tea. Please have some before you continue.”
“E-eh?” she stammered, startled by the voice. “But look at the time! It’s—”
“You should have at least the time for a cup of tea. There’s no need to put yourself under so much pressure.”
“I-I understand your intentions, but our enemies will soon be pouring in. How could I possibly rest?”
Emoor felt like she was going to lose it. Her professional expertise lay in office work and administration, not war!
“In that case, I won’t push you… But I’ll leave this here at least. Do drink it when you can—for the effort I put into brewing it if not for anything else. Sometimes, you need to relax a little to be more productive with your work.”
“Ah… Yes, of course… Thank you, Mr. Rotmiller.”
It really did seem as though Rotmiller had come in for the sole purpose of delivering her the tea, as he just turned around to leave after setting the drink down. Only then did Shavin Emoor realize what had changed about Rotmiller.
“M-Mr. Rotmiller? What are you wearing?”
He always wore plain ordinary clothes, so why was he now armored and equipped as if he were about to go into the labyrinth?
“Oh… I suppose this must be your first time seeing me like this? I hadn’t gotten rid of my old gear just in case, and now I’m grateful that I didn’t.”
“Are you…” She struggled to get the words out. “Are you planning on fighting as well?”
“Shouldn’t I? They’ll need all the help they can get.”
“But you were an exploration member!”
Some might have viewed her words as a sign of disrespect. However, Rotmiller didn’t seem to take them as such, only giving a gentle smile.
“Haha, you don’t need to worry so much. Even as an explorer, I was still an adventurer. Someone who entered the labyrinth to protect what is important to him.”
Shavin Emoor found herself unable to respond. Objectively speaking, they weren’t close enough for her to realistically stop him either.
“In any case,” Rotmiller said after a beat of silence, “I came by just to see you one last time. It’ll be hard for us to see each other again once I go out onto the battlefield.”
In the end, there was only one thing she could say.
“Please be careful.”
Those few words held the true feelings from her heart, and he matched her short reply with one of his own.
“I’ll come back to you.”
With that, Rotmiller left the room, leaving Shavin Emoor with flushed cheeks.
C-come back…? To me…!
Even as she sipped the fragrant tea, her heart wouldn’t stop racing.
***
Sir Lion.
Only one person called him by that title at the Round Table. The very person who acted like they were the spokesperson of Auril Gavis.
Wolf.
Funnily enough, the Heerkmuta mask this person was wearing was also a black wolf. Though, to call it a funny coincidence was really a stretch.
So he was always a part of that organization.
Even if I didn’t have the whole picture, I could guess he had probably picked the wolf mask on purpose.
“Haha, please don’t be so wary,” he said to appease me. “I’m not your enemy.”
I wasn’t having it. “Then why are you in my way?”
“I don’t think I ever said I am?”
“You’re not? Then move.”
He made no attempt to step aside at my cold demand. “I told you, you don’t have to be so wary. I’m only here to relay a piece of advice from the elder.”
By elder, he was probably talking about that gramps, Auril Gavis.
“A piece of advice…” I echoed.
From Old French avis, based on Latin visum “to see.” A word that meant to help one see a better course of action to take.
But then, why did I always feel guarded when I heard that word? As if every time it was thrown my way, the “better” choice wouldn’t actually be better for me at all?
It was anyone’s guess. However, apparently taking my reply as permission to continue, he gave me the “advice.”
“Seeing you’ve come this way, I suppose you’re going to the holy land?”
I didn’t answer.
“Don’t go to the holy land, but there instead,” he said, pointing to the currently aflame District 7.
I was lost for words and couldn’t even laugh at what I just heard. “So you lied when you said you weren’t in my way.”
“I’m being genuine when I say I don’t plan on stopping you. If you say you will take this path and head toward the holy land, then I will move out of your way, Sir Lion.”
“Really? Then move.”
“If that is what you wish.”
I didn’t expect anything from him, but then he actually did move out of the way, stepping back against the corner of the path along the wall.
I stepped slowly toward him, still keeping my guard up just in case he tried to pull something.
“Ah, and one more thing,” he said, catching me just as I was about to walk past him. “It wasn’t a good decision for you to kill Clown.”
“What does my decision matter to you?”
“It does matter to you. Maybe not for anyone else, but the elder believes that Clown would’ve been of great help to you if he had been kept alive.”
“I don’t know if he would’ve been helpful. All I know is this elder of yours is too nosy.”
“He is a kind and noble being.”
Wow, as if anyone would doubt he wasn’t a fanatic of Auril Gavis.
I felt no urge whatsoever to continue the conversation and kept on moving past him.
Step.
One step.
Step.
Two steps.
Step.
I successfully made it three steps before I couldn’t squash the thought anymore.
Hah, this is driving me nuts…
“Why?” I demanded, turning around to ask. I didn’t like how his eyes curved into a smile behind the mask as soon as I spoke, but the question that had been bugging me the entire time would leave me. “Should I not go to the holy land?”
He seemed to have been waiting for that question. “Because depending on where you go, the people who die will change… So don’t go to the holy land but District 7 instead. That will be the decision most beneficial for you, Sir Lion.”
“Most beneficial for me…” I smirked as I confirmed one last thing. “That’s that, then. Did that elder of yours also tell you this future?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking about, but that was all I am able to tell you—”
Oh, I wasn’t actually asking for more advice.
My hand whipped out, choking him by his neck as I slammed him against the edge of the wall.
“Will you survive this or die?”
Maybe I would trust him if he got this right.
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