Make the Barbarians Great Again

Chapter 27: The Wilted Ice Flower (2)

Hindir kicked off the ground and charged forward.

The Head of the Parno family had already drawn his sword and thrust it toward Hindir.

Unlike the arrogant Lesser Branch Head who had been intoxicated with his own power, the Head recognized Hindir as a dangerous opponent and displayed his full strength from the very start.

With the Cold-wave Apex, the Head completely dominated the area.

The pressure he exuded was on a different level than the old wolf’s—it pressed down on Hindir with overwhelming force.

However, since that encounter, Hindir had taken another step forward. He was no longer swallowed by the freezing storm.

The heat radiating from his entire body blocked the invasion of the cold, allowing him to move without hindrance as he set his sights on the Head.

Saaaa—

The sword became coated in a pure white, frigid aura. When it swung, frost trailed behind, obstructing Hindir’s movement.

Hindir knew well that the frost itself was no different from a blade.

Chaaak—

When he clapped both hands together, a shockwave burst out, shattering the frost. Seeing that, the Head let out a dry laugh.

To erase his Frost Blade Qi with a mere clap.

But he did not falter and immediately launched his next attack.

When he thrust his sword forward, a long strand of ice shot out from the tip, aiming straight for Hindir’s brow.

When Hindir struck it aside and shattered it, the Head’s sword shifted once again.

A broad layer of ice spread along the blade, shaping itself into a large saber that targeted the back of Hindir’s neck.

Hindir evaded easily and closed in, but this time, ice shot up from beneath the pommel, aiming for the back of his head.

Kwaa-dd-dd—

Hindir dove forward as if falling, dodging while simultaneously reaching toward the Head’s leg.

But an ice pillar suddenly jutted up, knocking his arm away, and his disoriented wrist ended up moving straight toward the Head’s sword.

With his remaining arm, Hindir slammed the ground as if to crush it, twisting his body sideways and rolling across the floor before springing back up.

A thin red line appeared across his forearm, and blood began to flow.

He hadn’t completely avoided the blow.

“There’s not a trace of dignity in you.”

The Head sneered as he spoke.

Wearing the hide of the Blood-Hero and rolling on the ground—he looked no different from a beast.

But Hindir could read the man’s true feelings.

“You seem flustered.”

“…….”

“When people think of Parno, they imagine relentless cold. Especially the Cold-wave Apex—it makes that illusion feel like certainty.”

But the truly fearsome thing was Parno’s swordsmanship used alongside it—the Snow Sword.

“The cold is nothing but a distraction. The true strength of Parno lies in its ever-changing swordsmanship, which transforms with every battle. That’s why Parno warriors must master various weapons rather than just the sword. Those who don’t realize this only understand the truth—the real name—when they’re about to die.”

“You… bastard…”

“That is the final chapter of the Snow Sword—the Hundred-Form Ice Blade. So tell me, if I escaped with only a scratch, wouldn’t that unsettle you?”

The Head’s face twisted with fury.

“You… How do you know of that?”

It couldn’t have been Ubol who told him.

The Snow Sword was a fundamental family sword art, even taught to the wolves of the bloodline.

But the Hundred-Form Ice Blade was learned only by those of pure lineage within the family.

Even then, what others learned was a mere Half-Form Ice Blade, and only the Family Head mastered the complete version—it was a long-held tradition.

So there was no way Ubol, who had fled without fully learning either the Family Technique or the Ice-Blood Qi, could have known.

“…Could it be Zircas?”

“Family Head.”

Hindir called out to him.

“I’ll ask once more. Do you truly know nothing of the Charun?”

“What nonsense are you spouting now!”

“I’m asking if you really don’t know—the reason Parno’s history could survive this long, the origin of the Hundred-Form Ice Blade, the story of how your family once rose again.”

“…….”

“If you don’t know… no, if you simply refuse to remember, then I cannot let you live.”

“Absurd. Do you truly believe you can keep dodging my attacks? You seem to know quite a lot about the family, but that should only make you more aware of how hopeless your odds are.”

Kuu-gu-gu-gu—

The Cold-wave Apex surrounding the Head began to shrink.

As mana condensed, the cold energy grew even stronger, and soon even Hindir began to feel the chill.

‘As expected of a Family Head.’

No matter how much things had changed, the legacy of a great lineage could not simply vanish.

The Head’s mastery of his family’s power could be felt through the frost that resembled the Snow Dragon Valley itself.

‘But it’s weak.’

Hindir remembered the Family Head from five hundred years ago.

That man had embodied the very essence of the Snow Dragon Valley.

He was magnificent—and beautiful.

The Cold-wave Apex mirrored the valley’s harsh environment, while the Hundred-Form Ice Blade transformed into the valley’s ever-changing weather, crushing opponents beneath its splendor.

And in the end, there bloomed one grand and radiant red flower.

That was Parno’s martial path.

The cold that now pressed in around Hindir was indeed powerful.

Yet he could feel the emptiness born of turning away from history.

Only the strength had been passed down—the true meaning within had been forgotten.

Some might call that an arrogant judgment.

After all, even the Parno of five centuries ago might not have been the absolute truth, and not even the Founder of Parno could claim to hold it.

Who could know, really, how the Founder had achieved enlightenment?

Even Ubol had been forced into awakening through sheer brute will.

But such words applied only to those who hadn’t lived through both times.

Hindir knew full well the difference between then and now.

That was why he could declare with certainty—

‘Even the Family Head of five hundred years ago, even the Snow Dragon Valley itself, could not stop me.’

Puh-seok—

Razor-like shards of ice carved wounds into Hindir’s bare torso.

Yet he continued to advance.

Through the open wounds, cold seeped in as if to freeze his very blood.

He could feel his organs stiffening with frost.

And as his vision clouded with white frost, the Head’s sword appeared dimly before him.

Uuuuu—

Then, at that moment, a low sound like the growl of a bear echoed by his ear.

It was the throb of his heart. Thɪs chapter is updated by N0v3l.Fiɾe.net

Within Hindir’s hollow chest, his core began to devour the invading cold mana like a starving beast.

Over the past few days, Hindir had roamed alongside the Snowy King through the Snow Dragon Valley, achieving another stage of growth.

Though the mana capacity of his muscles had increased, his heart core remained empty—how starved it must have been.

He had thought he could use the Family Head’s power, but this was beyond his expectations.

Even though it was a heart core he had created and activated himself, he still didn’t fully understand its effects or its limits.

However, at this very moment, it responded with perfect satisfaction.

When he recited the Muscle-Heart Technique, a sharp and chilling energy began to rage wildly.

It merged forcibly with his original energy—obedient for now, though he would have to fix it properly later.

For the moment, this much was enough.

Kwoong―

A heavy step echoed with power.

The Family Head sensed that something had changed, but his sword had already reached Hindir’s proximity.

Hindir slowly bent his knees and lowered his waist.

The Family Head’s sword, missing its mark, suddenly curved downward like a waterfall over a cliff.

Ignoring it, Hindir thrust his fist forward—if it continued, they would both suffer a mutual defeat.

‘Mutual defeat?’

The Family Head flinched and withdrew his sword.

The very fact that such a thought crossed his mind was dangerous.

His sword had been aimed at his opponent’s neck—there should have been no chance of mutual defeat.

Something was off.

Chwa-rrr―

Countless ice pillars erupted from the ground, surrounding Hindir like steel bars.

They transformed into sharp blades, closing in on him.

Hindir drove his hands into the frozen ground and flipped it over entirely.

The shattered, airborne shards of ice spun through the air, and when he struck them toward the Family Head, the man’s expression stiffened.

This was his domain—ice and snow were his authority.

And yet Hindir was beginning to use them.

‘Impossible!’

But that wasn’t the end of the shock.

Hindir grabbed two broken ice blades and charged forward.

Only then did the Family Head faintly perceive Hindir’s inner state through his sense.

A sticky heat—and a savage cold—intertwined within him.

A portion of his own power had betrayed him and now resided inside Hindir’s body!

Jjeo-jeo-jeong―!

The twin blades stormed toward the Family Head, who swiftly parried with his sword.

The skill with which Hindir handled the blades was far greater than expected—it startled him.

But since they were merely ice, they could not endure long and shattered quickly.

Unfortunately, as the shards flew toward him, the Family Head had no choice but to step back and thrust his sword forward.

Swoooosh―

The sword extended into a spear, stabbing at Hindir—but he broke it with a knife-hand strike, seized the fragments as weapons, and lunged again.

‘What in the…!’

This time, even his spear technique was exceptional.

Though the improvised weapon couldn’t withstand the Family Head’s sword and broke again, the shards once more flew at him, robbing him of another opening.

‘Could it be?’

After the same pattern repeated twice, doubt formed in the Family Head’s mind, but he quickly dismissed it and unleashed the Hundred-Form Ice Blade to its utmost limit.

He hadn’t intended to go this far, but he now admitted his complacency.

Or perhaps it was merely a struggle to shake off the growing sense of unease.

Ku-du-du-du―

Numerous frozen weapons rose up from every direction.

With each swing of his sword, the weapon reshaped itself into the ideal form for maximum power.

Wounds began to appear all over Hindir’s body, yet the Family Head’s anxiety only grew.

‘He’s adapting!’

There were no fatal injuries—on the contrary, at every moment, Hindir seized control of the ice weapons and used them as his own.

It was astonishing enough that he wielded any weapon that came to his hand with such proficiency, but the way the shattered fragments always targeted the Family Head was even more disturbing.

At last, the Family Head admitted it.

Hindir was accurately gauging the durability of each weapon, deliberately swinging them to shatter at the critical moment and send the shards his way.

The Family Head couldn’t react in time—his clothes tore, and blood began to seep through the rents.

From the outside, Hindir’s condition appeared far worse.

But the one under greater pressure was the Family Head.

Kwaa-ang―!

Once again, Hindir’s ice blade clashed with the Family Head’s sword.

And for the first time, in a direct confrontation, the Family Head was pushed back.

Even in the next clash, and the next, he faltered repeatedly.

It wasn’t because Hindir outmatched him in raw skill.

Clearly, Hindir was weaker than the Family Head at present.

But that was true only on the surface.

A lifetime of confidence in his own power—

The long history of ruling as the sovereign of this land—

Unbeknownst to him, Hindir’s very existence was shaking all of that.

The small tremor within him grew, spreading into cracks, and his repeated retreats were the instinctive act of fleeing from reality.

He was stronger than Hindir.

But weaker than the Great Warrior Orcus.

“How dare you!”

At last, the festering wounds of his inner turmoil burst, and the Family Head’s entire body was engulfed in a blinding white storm.

Everything around him began to freeze, all that cold converging and infusing his blade.

Jjeo-jeo-jeok―

A sound like a glacier splitting echoed from the sword.

His ultimate technique—one even he had never completed.

Seolyong Claw Slash (Snow Dragon Claw Slash).

A strike modeled after the claw of the mythical dragon said to slumber within the Snow Dragon Valley.

It was Hindir’s first time seeing it.

But it posed no threat to him.

The Family Head merely imitated the Frost Dragon, while Hindir—five hundred years ago—had already conquered it as the Great Warrior.

Jjeo-eong―!

Hindir caught both sides of the oncoming blade with his bare hands.

The boundless cold within the sword struggled to find release, blocked by Hindir’s will.

And in its desperate search, it found the weakest wall.

Ssssss―

The energy reversed course along the blade, turning into a cold mist that erupted from the Family Head’s entire body.

It scattered, becoming one with the Snow Dragon Valley itself, and when it was over, only the withered Blood-Ice Flower remained.

The beautiful, radiant Blood-Ice Flower Hindir remembered no longer existed.