Chapter 3

Chapter 3. A Death That Was Never Certain!
Until that morning, Barel had been in an excellent mood. He had closed a rather large deal, after all.
He had successfully won a gamble that had put the fate of his merchant company on the line, and he had felt so elated he could have flown. But by the time the sun had climbed high into the sky, that mood had plunged straight down.
Because on the way back, he had run straight into a bandit gang.
“Hey, you lot! Hand over everything you have!”
“Drop everything in your hands! Strip off everything except what is stuck to your body, you hear me?”
At first, he had thought it would be fine. That was why he had hired mercenaries in anticipation of danger.
But the mercenaries were slaughtered by the bandits, and in the end, his own life was placed in jeopardy.
‘I’m finished. Completely finished.’
Inside the rattling wagon, Barel squeezed his eyes shut.
How could this happen? In this vast expanse of the Gray Plains, he had run into thieves—no, not just thieves, but a mounted bandit gang. And infamous ones at that.
‘And of all people, it had to be the Red Wolf Band...!’
His luck was simply too terrible. That was the only explanation. Otherwise, it would mean that all his trading experience from the past dozen years had betrayed him.
He looked to either side. All those mercenaries were gone, every last one dead. Only three escort mercenaries remained.
“Faster! Move faster, damn it!”
“We can’t! Look ahead! The fog...!”
“What does that matter? Just keep going!”
“You know what lies ahead! The road is blocked!”
“What?”
Barel leaned out and looked ahead. Dense fog spread thickly beyond the broad plains. The moment he saw it, his face hardened.
‘Damn it. It’s the Mist Cliff!’
He ground his teeth. Even if they pushed through that thick fog, all they would find ahead was a cliff.
“Master! You need to turn the wagon around!”
“No! If we do that, we all die. Keep going!”
“What?”
“Drive! No, this won’t do. Move aside.”
“M-Master, that is...”
“All of you, follow me!”
Barel forced his way onto the driver’s seat, seized the reins, and snapped them hard. The horses let out a powerful cry and surged forward, plunging straight into the dense fog.
He could not see an inch ahead, and yet he kept driving. At this point, they were dead whichever way they went.
They had seen too much to choose the option of standing and fighting. The sight of those devilish bandits brutally massacring the mercenaries was still vivid in his eyes.
“This won’t work! We’re going to crash into the wall!”
“Shut up! Would you rather be cut down by their swords?”
All they could do was run. There was room for nothing else in his mind. Better to crash into a wall and die than to watch their goods fall into the hands of the bandits.
A little farther ahead, there truly was a dead end. With reality right before his eyes, Barel faltered. What was he supposed to do? They really were all about to die.
He did not know. All he could do was keep driving forward.
As though he meant to ram the wagon straight into a massive cliff.
“Master! Over there!”
Then one of his subordinates cried out.
“Look over there!”
“At what?”
“There’s some kind of opening!”
“What?”
He turned his head. The dense fog made it hard to see clearly. It looked like there was something there...
“You say there is something there... hhk.”
His eyes widened.
There really was.
At the far edge, there was an open passage.
“We’re going there!”
“Yes!”
They veered toward it. As they drew closer to the gap, his eyes widened even more.
It was a passage. There really was a road there.
‘There was a road beyond the Mist Cliff!’
To think there had been such a magnificent gorge here. He had not known. He truly had not known.
But the situation was far from good. The terrain was not suited for a wagon racing through it.
The path was narrow, and the ground was rough enough to overturn a wagon at any moment. In the first place, it did not even look easy for horses to pass through.
The wagon lurched more violently. Naturally, its speed dropped. In that time, the bandits closed in until they were right on top of them.
“Damn it!”
At last, Barel spat out a curse. How could this be happening? Has heaven abandoned him?
Then the driver pointed ahead and shouted,
“Master! There’s a person ahead!”
“What?”
It was true.
There was a man there.
A huge man with a massive build.
He wore leather trousers, nothing on his upper body, and held an axe in his hand.
‘A barbarian?’
Then the barbarian spoke.
“Same side?”
“What?”
“Are you on the same side?”
Barel’s eyes widened. The man looked every bit like a barbarian, yet what came out of his mouth was the continent’s common tongue. The pronunciation was awkward, but it was unmistakable.
“Same side? Is that correct?”
“Yes. That seems to be what he’s saying.”
The barbarian’s finger moved back and forth between Barel’s group and the bandits. Barel shouted at the top of his lungs.
“No! Different side!”
“I see.”
“No, more importantly, move! Get out of the way!”
“Being chased?”
“I said move!”
The barbarian was blocking the center of the road. At this rate, they were going to crash into him.
But the barbarian did not look as though he had any intention of moving. He just kept gesturing and muttering to himself.
‘Damn it! What is wrong with this lunatic...!’
“I help.”
“What?”
“Damned barbarian! Fucking hell!”
“No, what are you even saying...?”
“Scary. But escape!”
The barbarian spat out words that were nearly impossible to understand, then set his large axe down on the ground. After that, he drew the two hand axes hanging at his waist and took a deep breath.
All Barel could do was sigh. Why was he doing this instead of moving? Even now, the bandits were getting closer. At this rate, they would crash for sure.
‘Ah, to hell with it. We’ll just run him over.’
Just as he was about to give the order, the barbarian moved.
“Hup!”
After drawing in a deep breath until his chest was fully expanded, the barbarian hurled both hand axes with all his might. The axes flew with a terrible whistling sound and struck, with perfect precision, one foreleg each of the two horses at the very front of the pursuing bandits.
At that skill, which was close to miraculous, the eyes of everyone in the caravan, Barel included, flew wide open.
“You insane bastard!”
“Hiiiiiiing!”
The two lead horses let out shrill cries and collapsed to the ground.
Then something remarkable happened. Because the two horses fell flat on their sides, they completely blocked the narrow path.
“Shit!”
“S-Stop!”
“N-No, we are moving too fast...!”
“Kraaagh!”
Because of that, all the bandits riding behind them went tumbling over one another, and the scene was filled with the mournful screams of horses and the harsh groans of men.
Seeing it all clearly, Barel could only gape.
“No, what in the world...?”
Barel rubbed his eyes. What had he just seen? Was that even possible?
He looked at the barbarian’s eyes. The man was nodding to himself with visible satisfaction. For an instant, one thought flashed through Barel’s mind.
‘Did he aim for that? Did he target the legs on purpose?’
No. That could not be right. That was absurd. To paint such a picture in that desperate situation?
And besides, how could anyone accurately hit one leg on each horse like that? By throwing both axes at once?
“Move.”
Then, out of nowhere, the barbarian said that, picked up the large axe he had dropped, and charged forward.
Straight into the midst of the fallen, groaning bandits.
“A death that was never certain!”
From within the violently swaying wagon, Barel saw it.
A single beast cutting off the breath of the bandits.
***
Balun crossed his arms and nodded with satisfaction. The more he thought about it, the more pleased he was with the fight he had just won.
The strategy of targeting the horses’ legs had been a good one. The entrance had been narrow, so he had figured that if the leaders went down, the rest would topple over after them. He had thrown the axes on that gamble, and it had worked perfectly.
Honestly, if those throws had missed, he probably would have been terrified.
There had to be at least thirty enemies, after all. And they had been on horseback.
Facing people like that alone would have been very frightening, to say the least, so he was fortunate.
‘I think I got a little lucky.’
Of course, the enemies had survived the fall, but what was there to fear from men sprawled on the ground writhing in pain? Most of them were obviously badly injured.
Balun was a coward, but in situations that were not dangerous, he was braver than anyone. Finishing off people who could not even properly move their bodies was no difficult task at all.
He had not intended to kill them, in truth, but it could not be helped. The moment he chose one side, he had made enemies of the other.
Enemies could not be left alive. If he did, they would come after him in return.
‘After showing them a performance like that, I must have earned a few points, right?’
Filled with anticipation, Balun opened his mouth, recalling the ‘language of the Ironclads’ that he had worked so hard to learn.
“Balun.”
“Yes?”
“My name.”
“Ah. So, Mr. Balun.”
“That’s right.”
“My name is Barel. I lead the Barel Merchant Company. Thank you, truly. You saved our lives. I do not know how I can ever repay this debt.”
Balun stared blankly at Barel’s group as they repeatedly bowed their heads. He could not understand every word, since they spoke too quickly, but he grasped the meaning.
Barel, and a merchant company. So he was a merchant.
‘I think I earned a decent number of points.’
And if he was going to earn points, he ought to make sure he earned them properly. That way, later on, they might help him escape.
‘There really was a road.’
His suspicion had been right. There truly was a road there. Otherwise, how could those people have come from that side?
That made them important to Balun. He absolutely could not let them go just like that.
“Follow me.”
“What?”
“I will treat you.”
“Treat us? What do you mean by that...?”
“You are hurt. You need treatment.”
Balun turned away. Barel’s group hesitated, then whispered among themselves.
Balun tried to eavesdrop, but failed. Not because they were whispering, but because they spoke too quickly.
Even so, he could more or less grasp the nuance. They seemed to be discussing whether they should follow him or not.
A little later, the three half-broken wagons slowly began to follow, and Balun smiled.
‘This is working nicely.’
Learning the ‘language of the Ironclads’ has been worth it. It was useful.
That was why a person had to prepare thoroughly. Everything had its use eventually.
‘I wish I could speak better.’
At his current level, this was the limit. He would have to work even harder on his language studies from here on out.
“Hey! Balun!”
“What on earth are you doing, not coming out...?”
At that moment, tribal warriors appeared from the opposite direction. They were the hunting party that had come with him, and they had come looking for Balun when he failed to show himself.
A brief standoff followed.
The barbarians and the civilized people alike looked at one another with equal measures of suspicion and wariness.
Balun stepped forward and explained the situation. To Barel’s group, he said these were his comrades, and to his comrades, he explained that these were people who had nearly died, so he had saved them.
The looks of suspicion and unease did not completely disappear, but both sides listened. It was only possible because Balun stood as the link between them.
“So, Balun, you are saying you saved these people?”
“Yes. A bandit gang was chasing them, so I helped. Would you like to go and see for yourselves?”
“Hm, it really is true.”
It did not take long to convince them once he showed them the scene. Several dead horses and human corpses. The remaining horses had already scattered and run off.
“You mean you killed all these enemies yourself? Alone?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Amazing! As expected, you truly are a great warrior!”
His companions looked at him with admiration, and Balun merely scratched his head. It really was not like that.
A great warrior, my ass. All he had done was lightly finish off the fools who had tripped over one another.
“As expected, my eye was not mistaken. You will become a great warrior. And a great chieftain as well.”
“A great chieftain? Hardly. I am not cut out for that.”
“No, you are exactly the kind of man for it. Do not underestimate yourself.”
The warriors’ eyes shone with outright adoration. At this point, it almost felt like worship. Burdened by it, Balun quickly changed the subject.
“Ah, brothers. I was thinking of taking those people back to the village and having them treated. What do you think?”
“As you wish. Those people are your spoils. You have the right to decide what to do with them.”
“What? My spoils?”
“Yes. Spoils.”
Balun tilted his head. What spoils?
“Anyway, you are saying you permit it, right?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Then let us go. Ah, what about the prey?”
“We caught plenty. Heh heh.”
The warriors led Balun over. The prey they had hunted was laid out neatly in a pile: boars, deer, snakes, and more.
“Let us go quickly. After all that effort, I am hungry.”
“Right.”
Balun gathered everything up and started back toward the village. Barel’s group followed behind the eight barbarians with uneasy expressions.
***
When Balun returned to the embrace of the tribe, he received an enormous amount of attention. It was because he had suddenly come back with strangers.
Three large wagons, the goods loaded behind them, and several horses besides.
As all the tribespeople gathered in little groups, Chieftain Turgan asked,
“Balun! What are all those?”
“They are civilized people. No, I mean, Ironclads.”
At those words, all the tribespeople were astonished. Ironclads? Those people said to live beyond the Great Mountain Range? The ones who wore armor made entirely of iron and wielded incomprehensible powers?
“You will explain what happened.”
“Yes. What happened was...”
Feeling Turgan’s suspicious gaze on him, Balun slowly began his explanation.
While searching for prey, he had found bandits chasing merchants at the dead end of the ravine, and that he had killed all of the bandits and helped the merchants.
And that he had brought them here in order to treat their injuries.
“...And that is how it happened.”
After finishing his entire explanation, Balun studied the atmosphere. Would they allow it? They needed to. If they did, he could keep building goodwill with them.
Judging by the fact that the hunting party had already permitted it, the worst probably would not happen, but one never knew.
These were barbarian bastards, after all. Even Balun could not predict how they might act, and he had lived among them for sixteen years.
“So, you are saying those people are your spoils.”
“What?”
“Balun. Excellent work.”
“What??”
Turgan walked up, smiling, and gave Balun’s shoulder a few firm pats.
Then he turned and shouted loudly,
“People of the Red Fang Tribe! Our Balun has brought back valuable spoils! Spoils in the form of Ironclads, no less!”
“Wooooooo!”
“Spoils! Spoils!”
“Ironclads!”
The tribespeople suddenly burst into cheers. Balun grew flustered.
‘W-What is this?’
What the hell was wrong with these people?