Make the Barbarians Great Again

Chapter 29: Slaves (1)

It was both surprising and relieving that Hindir had returned alive.

But even so, no one could let their guard down yet.

“Damn it! Everyone, face forward and focus!”

Ubol shouted at the Snowlit Crimson.

Hindir and the Snowy King had come back—but the Family Head had not.

No one knew what had happened, but what mattered now was that a full-scale battle might break out at any moment.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere on Parno’s side also grew strange.

Some showed confusion, others anger.

It was clear that none of them had expected things to turn out this way.

‘What will you do?’

Ubol stared intently at the Vice-leader.

But the man only gazed silently at the sky, lost in thought.

Before long, Hindir and the Snowy King arrived at a calm pace.

“What happened? Did you really defeat the Family Head?”

At Ubol’s question, Hindir answered curtly.

“Yeah.”

“……”

They had half-expected it… but still.

The fact that the Family Head hadn’t returned could only mean one thing—death.

“You’ve caused quite the disaster.”

“He tried to kill me. I had no choice.”

“Then killing him was the only answer. Heh heh…”

Ubol shook his head and turned back toward the wolves.

“Looks like he brought them all out in one sweep. I’ve never seen them pour out like that before. They’re still dazed, but once they come to their senses, they might start swinging their blades.”

“The wolves, huh.”

“Yeah. The old man at the front is the Vice-leader.”

“I see. Ubol, lend me your blade for a moment.”

“What?”

Caught off guard, Ubol handed over the blade he’d been holding.

The large sword that had looked so threatening in Ubol’s hands somehow seemed light and unimposing in Hindir’s grip.

After spinning it a few times and tapping the edge with his finger, Hindir gave a small nod and tied it to his waist.

“Everyone, stand by.”

As Hindir stepped forward, the Vice-leader finally opened his eyes.

Clack—

Hindir stopped precisely at the boundary of the Vice-leader’s domain, and the man gave a low hum of thought.

“Don’t be disappointed. Even if I step in, nothing will change. This is merely a warning.”

“How insolent.”

The Vice-leader made no effort to hide his displeasure.

He appeared to be about the same age as the old man they’d seen before, but his expression was entirely different.

Though both had cold faces, the ferocity in his eyes was that of a wild beast.

“A trap? A joint attack?”

He asked.

“One on one.”

When the Vice-leader looked skeptically toward the Snowy King, the latter spread his arms wide, showing off his torn rags as if to prove it.

“I, too, was defeated by Hindir in battle. He beat me thoroughly. And shamefully, I lost consciousness afterward, so I didn’t witness the fight against the Family Head.”

At the Snowy King’s statement, silence fell over the area.

Didn’t that mean Hindir had fought—and defeated—both of them?

“Even a passing dog wouldn’t believe that.”

The Vice-leader’s voice was cold.

But inwardly, unease stirred within him.

He too had long trained in the Ice-Blood Qi, and from the traces of that energy on Hindir’s wounds, he could read both its depth and its meaning.

“……”

So he wrestled with a decision.

Should he wipe out everyone here… or retreat to fight another day?

Of course, drawing his sword immediately would be the proper response.

After all, it was clear that the Family Head had been struck down. Shouldn’t a wolf bite its enemy in return?

But if Hindir truly had defeated the Family Head, then charging him now would only mean meaningless deaths.

If they all fell here, the Parno family would be plunged into an age of darkness.

Retreating and planning for the future would be wiser, but still…

“Decide.”

At that uncanny moment—as if he’d read his thoughts—Hindir spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“Return to your family and deliver this message. Tell them that the Family Head was defeated by a Charun Warrior. Declare the Charun tribe freed, and invite them as honored guests to prove they are no longer slaves. Do this, and in remembrance of old ties, I’ll overlook all that has passed.”

Though Hindir’s words were layered, their meaning was easy to grasp.

By Charun, he meant the Barbarians, and by ‘what has passed,’ he meant the long years of exploitation.

And ‘old ties’… was that mockery?

Regardless, they could never accept such words.

How could he possibly report that they must treat the Barbarians as honored guests?

“Impudent!”

Rage erupted among the lined-up wolves.

They couldn’t accept that their Family Head had been defeated by that Barbarian. Convinced it was all nonsense, their patience reached its breaking point.

“The Family Head and the Lesser Branch Head both fell to those bastards! How much longer must we endure this?”

“They must have set a trap! We should uncover the truth and bring their bodies back!”

The Vice-leader shared their anger.

But when he saw the expression on Hindir’s face, he finally realized—it had all been mockery from the start.

“So, you just wanted to fight all along. That’s why you’re provoking us like this.”

At his words, Hindir gave a faint laugh.

“Weren’t you the ones who’ve been provoking the Charun all this time?”

“How dare you, Barbarian!”

At last, several of the wolves lost all restraint and charged.

“I am the Great Warrior of Charun.”

Hindir spoke toward the oncoming attackers.

“As the Great Warrior, I’ll reclaim what we once gave to Parno.”

He struck the oncoming sword with his fist, shattering it outright.

“Wha—?”

The attackers tried to freeze him with Ice-Blood Qi, but it was pointless.

Whether it had been a trap or a joint assault didn’t matter. They now paid the price for underestimating the man who had defeated their Family Head.

Boom—!

Hindir’s fist slammed into one man’s head.

They did not stop there; as his fist passed clean through, the bizarre sight froze those who had run in together.

Even if the Family Head had truly been killed, they thought it had been the Snowy King’s doing.

No — more than that, they trusted their own skill.

They always carried the confidence that, as Parno’s finest force, if they all charged together, even the Family Head would have difficulty.

But when they watched Hindir’s fist burst the skull of an elite warrior, they realized something was terribly wrong.

Bang!

Another head disappeared.

The next opponent reflexively raised his head to block the incoming fist, but it had been futile.

His arm shattered while absorbing the impact and protected the skull, but it did not protect his life.

“Everyone, draw swords!”

The Vice-leader issued the order in a booming voice.

“We’ll stand by!”

And when the Snowy King on the opposite side gave a contrary order to the Snowlit Crimson, the Vice-leader scowled.

‘Leave him to fight alone?’

He studied the Snowy King’s face; though it was a little stiff, there was no sign of anxiety.

That alone felt like humiliation.

‘Fine. Let’s see how long that composure lasts.’

“Form ranks!”

At the Vice-leader’s shout, the wolves planted their blades and began to raise their Ice-Blood Qi.

Hindir finally drew the blade Ubol had handed him.

At that moment, a sharper pressure than before fell over the wolves, and they all held their breath.

But being extremely tense, they did not notice the fact.

Ubol recalled what he had said to Hindir a short while ago.

His foolish taunt about whether Hindir even knew how to handle weapons…

He now understood the expression Hindir had shown back then.

“Fuck…”

The curse slipped out.

To be honest, Hindir’s blade technique had not looked flashy or special.

But one thing could be said for certain.

It adhered faithfully to the blade’s true purpose.

That is, it cut everything.

It felt like witnessing the essence of blade technique itself.

The wolves could not respond to the blade Hindir wielded.

From the rear it only seemed like he was slashing wildly, yet everything was cleanly severed; clearly some inscrutable skill was contained within.

‘It’s not mere strength.’

Having caught a thread of enlightenment from his duel with Moritz recently, Ubol could tell.

Not by brute force or the weight or hardness of a weapon alone could one cut so crisply.

‘No trembling, no hesitation. As if moving toward a predetermined result.’

Wolves charged from all directions, but none reached Hindir.

Even if someone tried to exploit an opening, Hindir’s bare hand was no different from a weapon.

‘His whole body was a weapon.’

A red valley formed in Hindir’s wake.

Hot blood melted the surrounding snow as it flowed, and because of Hindir’s Blood-Hero hide, it looked like a long cloak woven of blood.

At some point, Hindir had begun to grip and swing the sword of a wolf he had taken with one remaining hand.

A swordplay so heavy it forced opponents to stumble backward and slump.

“Ah!”

Ubol realized.

He saw the path Hindir would walk ahead, and he understood that to stand beside him he, too, had to walk that path.

The swords and blades gripped in Hindir’s hands were themselves what they were.

Perhaps Moritz had realized it earlier; she kept her eyes wide and focused on Hindir’s blade.

In a way it was a coercion without coercion, but…

“Ha… fuck. Yeah. There was no running anymore. The Lesser Branch Head died in my hand and we lost the Family Head… I can’t escape now.”

Ubol was sinking deeper into Hindir’s blade method.

He might not accept it perfectly at once, but to witness such high-level skill was a providence.

The blade-man and the sword-man focused without blinking until the last wolf fell.

They paid no heed to the fact that the history of the Great Snowfields, the history of Parno, was being erased.

The wolves of the Great Snowfields possessed the sharpest fangs.

But a wolf was still only a wolf.

No matter how many wolves gathered, they could not defeat a bear.

Parno’s elite force was annihilated.

And only one person survived.

“Cough…”

The Vice-leader of Parno’s wolves, who had spat blood, lifted his trembling head and glared at Hindir.

His right arm had been severed, making further fighting impossible, but it was not fatal.

In other words, Hindir had spared his life.

“Pfff… you’re no different from beasts.”

“The ones who bore swords were no different from beasts. You aren’t special.”

“You who have torn so many to pieces… feel no remorse?”

“Didn’t you feel any guilt for what you did to the Charun?”

“We gave you homes and food. That was benevolence!”

Hindir sneered.

“Yes. Because you forgot that benevolence, today came.”

The Vice-leader could not comprehend Hindir’s words.

But when he saw the gloom in that voice and the fury in those eyes, he felt a surge of grievance and resorted to crude reproach.

“After all that, you are nothing but slaves.”

“Haha, really? But do you know what I see? In my eyes, you truly look like slaves.”

“What…?”

The Vice-leader shouted in panic as if in despair, but Hindir did not stop speaking.

“The Family Head sensed death today. He brought you to such a place. Perhaps he hoped that by killing you he might ease my wrath even slightly. Look at you—dying for your master. If you were not true slaves, what would you be?”

They wanted to deny it.

“You’re very well-trained wolves.”

But they could not deny it. Follow current novels on Nove1Fire.net

The Vice-leader felt as if all life were draining from his body.

And yet he did not die.

“But your deaths mean nothing. Parno will pay the price until the end.”

“Bastard!”

The Vice-leader roared and attempted to burn his final life force to rise.

But when Hindir placed a hand on his shoulder, he could not even twitch.

“Save your strength. You must return alive so that your family can come to terms with reality and prepare. If you do not return, the family will burn without reason and without chance to survive.”

The Vice-leader’s body trembled.

Hindir’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder felt progressively heavier.

“So go and tell them. Say I have returned to collect a five-hundred-year debt.”

“How could you be so cruel! How dare you mock our honor, mock the honor of Parno like this!”

“No.”

Hindir bent his knees to meet his eye level.

“You abandoned your own honor and became a laughingstock.”