Barbarian Quest

Chapter 107

Chapter 107

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"How long was I out?"

Sven checked his equipment piece by piece. It seemed like he hadn’t lost anything while he was unconscious.

‘I’m a lucky man. I can’t believe it was Urich who found me.'

Anyone else, like a bandit or even another traveler, might have stolen his armory at the very least. If really unlucky, he could have been sold into slavery.

"I don't know how long you've been out. Anyway, how long have you been feeling ill?"

"The coughing started up when the civil war began. Never had a cold in my life, but then the coughing got worse, so I knew something was up, kehehe."

Sven let out a raspy laugh. It seemed like breathing was quite laborious for him.

"You think it’s terminal?" Urich asked as he poked around the campfire with a stick he found.

"Judging by the bloody cough, it seems my time is limited. I’m feeling less and less energy every day."

"Where are you trying to go in this condition?"

"Me? What about you? I thought you'd be enjoying yourself with booze and food in the Uscall territory by now."

"I really don't fancy indulgence... it makes my senses dull. Been there before."

Urich gazed at the dying fire, his eyelashes flickering.

"You are young, and time is on your side. No one would blame you for enjoying it a little bit. Cough."

Sven drank some liquor as soon as he woke up.

"Warriors don't die in order of age. Who can guarantee I have more time than you?"

"So, you left right away, just like that?"

"Yeah, I thought I’d head north for now. What about you, old man?"

"I was heading north too."

Sven looked northward. The sun was coming up, but the moon was still visible in the dawn sky still tinged with blue.

"What about your other northerners? Did they let a sick old man leave by himself?"

"In our culture, we leave our tribes quietly when death nears. There is no need to care for the sick."

"That's a bit cruel."

Urich spoke candidly. Back in the Stone Axe tribe, the people cared for the elderly as long as the resources allowed. But when a severe famine came around, the elderly left the tribe on their own.

"How far north are you going?"

"As far as my legs take me."

Sven laughed, offering Urich a drink from his leather flask.

"Kehaha! I wonder how far you’ll manage to go."

"What about you, gramps? Were you going to just die wandering? You won't get into the Field of Swords that way."

Sven hesitated. He was rambling, quite unlike himself.

"There was someone I wanted to see before dying. I never expected to have this opportunity. I really thought I'd die as a gladiator or mercenary. Perhaps old age or impending death brings these thoughts... "

"You have family. "

"... that’s right. My wife died of illness and my son in battle, but my daughter married into another clan. If she’s still alive, she'd be raising children by now."

"So, you’re going to go see your grandchildren?"

Sven coughed awkwardly and chose to remain silent. Perhaps, he was embarrassed as a warrior.

"Anyway, I'm heading north."

Urich watched Sven, scratching his head.

"Let's travel together for now. We’re going the same way, anyway, so might as well."

Sven didn’t have any reason to refuse. He didn’t show it, but he was also shocked by the fact that he collapsed out of nowhere.

‘I guess I’m not getting into the Field of Swords.’

There was no eternal rest for those who died of sickness.

Thump, thump, thump.

Sven eyed Urich's back. The grip of his hand on his axe tightened. He yearned to die by a great warrior's hand and reach the Field of Swords. It was truly a warrior's instinct and desire.

'Father.'

He heard a voice. His daughter's face was flashing before him. She was his last kin. Only now, when he was facing his death, he yearned to see her, a desire as strong as his warrior's instinct.

"Cough."

Sven coughed and swallowed the blood rising in his throat.

“It's damn cold.”

“It’s only going to get colder. Cough. But it'll be easier to spend the night after we receive our supplies tomorrow.”

Urich glanced at Sven, worried about his health.

‘Even though he’s a northerner, Sven is ill. It’s best to avoid camping as much as possible.’

After a shivering night, a new day had dawned. Urich and Sven, with stiff eyelids, watched the people passing by outside the city walls.

“There are a lot of merchants from the empire passing by,” Urich said with a yawn.

“Fur is one of the main imports of the north. They buy good quality fur cheaply here and sell it at a high price in the empire. It’s a profitable business for the empire's merchants.”

“Ah, I've heard of that.”

Urich and Sven sat by the roadside, pathetically putting together and eating a mishmash porridge.

The empire's soldiers near the city wall looked at Urich and Sven, clicking their tongues.

“Doesn’t it feel like they are mocking us? Should we go beat them up?” Urich said, slurping his porridge.

“Let it be. We’ll be leaving soon, anyway, so let’s not cause any trouble.”

Sven shook his head, looking at the city gate. It was about time for the hunter they asked for supplies to arrive.

Creaaaak.

Urich and Sven waited for a while until the night fell and the curfew was in place again. After watching the gate close. Urich and Sven sighed silently.

“He got us.”

Sven said bitterly. They had been scammed by a fellow northerner, something unimaginable in the past. Back when they lived in clan units, scamming was impossible since everyone was related and knew each other.

“The spirit of the northerner? Helping each other get through life? Haha.”

Urich laughed heartily, patting Sven’s back. Sven’s shoulders slumped.

‘A few pennies don’t matter.’

But they were warriors. More important than money was their pride and honor. Sven seemed especially deeply hurt, staring blankly at the city wall.

Urich and Sven waited near the gate again the next day, keeping an eye on the passersby. Naturally, the hunter who deceived them was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had escaped through another passage.

“How did northerners come to deceive each other like this...” Sven said, shaking the last drop of the alcohol he had onto his tongue.

The Imperial soldiers guarding the city gate watched Urich and Sven. They clearly knew that Urich and Sven had been scammed.

“How long do you think they’ll hold out?”

“They’ll be gone by tomorrow. I’ll bet fifty thousand cils on that.”

The soldiers bet on how long Urich and Sven would hold out.

“Who are those vagrants?”

“Ah, commander.”

“Call me Sir Gremor, not commander. I prefer that.”

“Understood, Sir Gremor.”

Gremor was a guard commander who had recently been appointed. As most new hires are, he was meticulous in maintaining discipline among his soldiers.

“We can’t allow such people to camp near our wall for days. We protect the peace here in the name of His Imperial Majesty!” Gremor said, glaring at the guards.

“I will drive them away right this instance.”

“No, I will go down there myself.”

Gremor picked four soldiers. He and the soldiers went down to where Sven and Urich were.

‘A knight must lead by example.’

Gremor preferred direct action over commanding others. He believed his subordinates would naturally follow his lead if he set an example.

“This new guard commander is a tiresome man.”

“Typical of those uptight ones from the capital, huh?”

The empire's soldiers whispered behind him.

Gremor strode toward Sven and Urich.

“Is there a problem?” Sven asked.

“I am the guard commander. I’ve seen you loitering around our gate for d... Hmm,” Gremor stopped mid-sentence, staring intently at Urich.

“What are you looking at?” Urich replied coldly.

Gremor, resting his chin on his hand, thought for a moment before asking cautiously.

“Urich?”

He recognized Urich. Urich tilted his head.

“...The Armor Breaker!”

Gremor exclaimed to express his awe.