Make the Barbarians Great Again

Chapter 19: Thawing (5)

The old man did not even ask Hindir’s name.

He might have thought that there was no need to know the barbarian’s name, but it leaned more toward pride as the reason he didn’t ask.

Not only Parno, but nobles in general had that tendency.

They considered it natural that others should recognize them first, thinking that the other party must introduce themselves for their face to be preserved.

It was a kind of battle of wills.

It was childish, but in such trivial things one could not afford to lose, right?

So Hindir did not speak either.

He would probably go back and busily move to find out about himself.

“Speaking of which, Parno’s wolf.”

It was a name he had not heard in a long time.

A family’s top martial force composed solely of those who trained Parno swordsmanship to the extreme, beyond bloodline strength.

In other words, the family head’s personal guard.

But since the direct bloodline called themselves wolves, the meaning seemed a bit different from five hundred years ago.

If the old man was the family head, it wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

“He didn’t seem like the family head.”

The old man was certainly strong, but not enough to call him the family head.

Of course, bringing the standard from five hundred years ago to the present provided too small a sample size for comparison.

But if such a character were family head, Ubol might not have charged out either.

From the brief experience he had, it didn’t seem vastly different from Parno of the past.

“I wonder.”

Just what had happened to the Parno family now.

But there was no way to know immediately, nor did he feel the urge to seize the old man and ask.

Eventually he would meet that old man again.

But first, he would meet someone else. Latest content publıshed on novel-fire.ɴet

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t bothered by the old man’s warning about the person who would come next.

But that event would not occur in the near future.

At least he felt certain the incident from today would not be reported to the family.

The reason was the chillingly transparent coldness of the old man, trapped in the heart core, flailing heat against it.

It contrasted sharply with the strange and filthy energy he had accepted while fighting Snow Fiends.

The clear energy that purified the mind was completely unlike the Parno he had heard of from Ubol.

It was energy that the Parno bloodline, broken by purity-of-blood obsession, could never possess.

That made him even more curious about the state of the Parno family.

“Perhaps that person is in a similar position to Ubol.”

But his thoughts of the old man stopped there.

What came next would resume when he met him again.

Hindir’s gaze turned to Ubol.

Ubol had by now turned bluish like ice and begun emitting thick frost.

Confirming that it was nearing the end, Hindir began the Muscle‑Heart Technique.

Perhaps because of the cold emanating from Ubol, the heart core was struggling to receive mana, so he thought he should lend a hand.

Around the time the sun had just begun to rise, the old man reached the Parno domain.

He crossed the bustling street, crowded even with those who started the day slightly earlier, and entered the white castle on the plateau.

After responding with a bow to the guards at the entrance, he headed straight to the family head’s office.

Although it was too early a time, he knew that the family head’s day began much earlier.

“Have you come?”

As expected, the grand overseer who had begun work early spotted the old man and bowed courteously.

“I have come to report my return to the family head.”

“Understood. Would you please wait a moment?”

The old man stood idly for a moment, and soon the overseer returned and escorted him inside.

Amid the piles of documents on the desk, a middle‑aged man with skin pale as ice lifted his head toward him.

“You have returned.”

With casual familiarity the family head addressed him, and the old man bowed in respect.

“Blood Bear has disappeared, indeed.

I checked the strongholds where his recent activity had been reported, found no trace, and noted an increase in nearby wild animal populations.

It seems he hid deeper within Snow Dragon Valley.”

The old man knew of Blood Bear’s death.

But he did not state that fact directly.

To prove Blood Bear’s death required evidence, and he had not brought the most definitive proof.

Also, explaining this inevitably meant discussing the barbarians.

And the old man did not wish to do so.

“Hmm. In any case, it’s clear Seolyandan deceived us.”

“They are unreliable individuals, as you are well aware, family head.”

“Indeed.

No matter how plausible the name, their roots won’t change.

They are nothing but bandits of the snowy plains.”

Though the family head’s mention of roots appeared innocent, the old man knew it contained pride in pure bloodline.

“But isn’t that strange?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what foolishness the Seolyandan are up to behind the scenes, and I don’t particularly care, and I understand why they hide much.

But Blood Bear? That is odd.

That beast was not especially important to them.

He merely watched at our request and periodically relayed information.”

“That is so.”

“But why didn’t they inform us that Blood Bear had disappeared?”

“They likely didn’t want to bear responsibility for the failure of surveillance.”

“To know of failure and take responsibility?

Those are not their kind.

Of course not.”

The family head tapped the desk with his index finger and pondered deeply.

And the old man stood silently before him.

“We must investigate what happened within the Seolyandan.”

“I will send a wolf.”

“Send a sharp one.

Send someone who knows how to relax his shoulders.

If we send someone stiff‑shouldered it will become troublesome.”

“Yes.”

The family head waved his hand and saw off the old man.

Shortly after, a casually dressed young man visited the office.

In every way compared to the neatly presented family head his appearance was loose, but the sharpness felt in his features resembled him.

“You said to call me?”

“Kanin.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Have you just entered the castle?”

“Yes.”

“I heard you returned to the domain two days ago; why did you arrive only now?”

“I wonder, wasn’t it because I had suffered hardship and needed time to recover?”

The family head clicked his tongue and looked at Kanin.

“And the deceased person?”

“Ha ha, am I dying every day?”

“No matter how lowly, if one carries the seed of Parno within, the story changes. Always remember that and observe.”

“At best, I'm a mongrel.”

“When Parno’s blood must be shed, these are the ones who must bleed first in our place. Show at least the minimum respect.”

“Yes, yes— of course.”

“So what about what happened over there?”

“Ah! Those Snow Fiends were already completely wiped out. They hid so tightly that if we hadn’t found the survivors they captured, we might not have found them at all.”

“Survivors?”

“I met humans who survived by chance. Going back along the path they came, I found the Snow Fiends hideout, but even Artez… it seems they’re all dead.”

“Seems they’re dead? Be precise.”

“Well, it does appear to have been Artez, right? But his head was gone, so it couldn’t be confirmed exactly. I don’t know who did it, but it doesn’t seem like some rough guy. They said some red bear saved them—could that be Blood Bear?”

“What?”

It was truly ironic.

Just now there had been a report of Blood Bear’s disappearance, followed by a strange tale that Blood Bear had killed the Snow Fiends.

“What did you do with the survivors?”

“They all seemed out of their minds, and I thought they’d die soon in Snow Dragon Valley, so I just put them out of their misery.”

“Hmm.”

It would have been nice to talk more about it.

On one hand, he realized why his son hadn’t killed his bed partner.

Even after hearing such things, the family head remained calm.

The cold cruelty carried by those who carried Parno’s blood was both their identity and their pride.

Only one thing didn’t sit well—their flippant words and behavior.

But that would naturally resolve with time.

“I give you a new mission.”

“Yes? Are you sending me out again?”

“You are the junior head. Until you inherit the family head position, you must continuously prove your qualifications.”

“Sigh… so what is it?”

“Zircas has returned. And it seems he’s hiding something.”

“What? He dared lie to Father? Is he senile? You’re letting that go?”

When Kanin exaggeratedly protested, the family head shook his head.

“Still, he’s the leader of the wolves. We must preserve his face.”

“But if he lied in his report…”

“It wasn’t a lie. Probably he has not said something.”

“So you expect me to find out?”

“Yes.”

“And if there is something problematic?”

“We’ll handle it according to the family law. Understood? And do you know why I assigned this task to you?”

“I’ll handle it.”

Whatever is hidden, the old wolf’s retirement is overdue.

Ubol continued walking across the endless snowy plain.

He had long since realized this scene wasn’t real.

If it were a dream, one’s awareness of it should wake one up—but since that didn’t happen, he thought this might be the afterlife.

“Damn bastard. Son of a dog. He’ll kill me after all.”

Why did he take seriously the insane idea of tossing him into an ice valley?

He’d been terrified at the thought of his imminent death, but in retrospect it was absurd to believe anyone—even a bear-like man—who wasn’t from the family.

“ I'm the idiot, right?”

If he had truly died, they could have sent him peacefully to the afterlife or let him sleep—but wandering the great snowfields was laughable.

“Sigh…”

Again, Ubol slumped to the ground and stared at the sky blankly.

The situation had repeated many times.

Each time he got up and walked, but now he was truly exhausted.

No destination, no direction, nothing was known—what meaning was there in continuing to walk?

He had spent time running and hiding.

If nothing had happened, he might have just stayed that way forever.

“...Why did I listen to that bastard?”

On reflection, he realized he had completely fallen for being told a different path than before.

...It had been that way.

Fear of death?

It wasn’t a crucial factor in his choices.

That fear had always followed him, and he had always fled from it.

He offered a life where he no longer had to run.

And he proved through action—unyielding, honest steps forward.

Even if brief, Ubol had clearly recognized the weight in each of those steps.

“Where was I going, anyway?”

Ubol turned his head and looked back at the long, unknown path he had walked.

“I wasn’t going anywhere. I was just drifting farther away.”

He rose from where he sat.

Then he turned his body and began walking in the opposite direction.

Toward the place where he had started, toward the point of departure.

Whooosh—

As if rejecting the wrong path, a fierce wind pushed him.

Yet he did not stop walking.

Just as the barbarian who wore the red beast mask did.

He wasn’t as large, but he was more handsome and sleeker.

“Heh heh.”

It was ridiculous to think in such a moment, but somehow his steps felt lighter.

The snowy plain behind him began to thaw.

And finally a single river appeared, trickling along Ubol’s steps.

But Ubol, fixated only on going forward, neither saw nor heard it.

“Are you awake?”

A familiar, welcome voice suddenly sounded.

Ubol slowly opened his eyes, and a blindingly bright light poured in.

“Ugh, fuck.”

He cursed energetically and confirmed he was still alive.

“Congratulations.”

“What happened? How did this come to be?”

As his eyesight gradually adjusted and the surrounding scenery came into view, Ubol’s mouth hung half open.

He was now outside of the valley where he had been immersed, and ice walls rose around him in a crater-like circle.

Then he felt the abundant energy within his body.

Thinking deeply on that energy and the phenomena unfolding around him, Ubol grinned.

“You bastard... let’s settle this properly.”

Filled with overflowing confidence, Ubol charged at Hindir in a surprise attack.

A large fist flashed, and he felt his consciousness fly into the distance.

Ubol was no longer cold.