Surviving as a Barbarian in a Fantasy World

Chapter 13 – Barkan Territory (1)

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 13 – Barkan Territory (1)

The chief guard knocked on the neat yet luxurious door cautiously.

A voice from inside beckoned him to enter.

The chief guard opened the door and entered, respectfully bowing.

“I greet the lord.”

A middle-aged man sat at the study desk.

He must have been processing documents, and there were hundreds of papers scattered on his desk.

The man with sparse gray hair opened his mouth.

“Yeah. What is it?”

“Four outsiders have entered the territories.”

“Is that worth reporting? Is there anything unusual?”

“Yes.”

The chief guard nodded.

“There was a barbarian.”

The lord’s face wrinkled.

Barbarians.

Beings who were simple, ignorant, and sought to solve everything with brute force.

The problems they caused were countless.

Hence, most territories avoided receiving barbarians.

“Did you permit it?”

“I judged it wouldn’t be a big problem.”

“If you, as the chief guard, judged so, it must be. Then what’s the issue?”

“…He’s strong.”

The chief guard swallowed.

“He’s strong enough to be a problem.”

“…How strong?”

“From what’s confirmed, he felled a Skeleton Knight in one blow.”

The lord’s pupils dilated.

Skeleton Knight.

A monster unbeatable unless one was at knight level.

And they felled such a monster in one blow?

“Is he first-class?”

“Most likely.”

“Is there a possibility He’s even stronger?”

“…I can’t deny it.”

The lord smiled bitterly.

That level of strength.

And he’s a barbarian.

Beings who consider strength as order, making it even more troublesome.

As the lord rubbed his forehead, the chief guard spoke up.

“But… there’s virtue.”

“Virtue?”

“Yes. If I may say, courtesy. Etiquette. He displayed such elegance.”

“Elegance? That doesn’t suit barbarians.”

“Yes. I thought it best to mention.”

The chief guard looked at the lord.

The Barkan Territory was originally very poor.

Located at the kingdom’s edge, with snow-covered plains, it had no merit in the eyes of outsiders.

The one who developed it to this extent was the lord before him.

Luke Barkan.

As the lord pondered for a moment, he tapped the desk.

“Summon him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Having such a strong individual wandering within the territory is unsettling in itself. It’s more reassuring to see with my own eyes.”

“It could be dangerous.”

“I have my knight.”

The lord said confidently.

Only then did the chief guard recall.

Beside the lord was an exceptionally skilled knight, personally trained by a great Swordmaster.

“What do you think?”

The lord asked.

The knight lurking in the shadows raised a hand to his sword hilt.

“He seems powerful, but… still a barbarian. They lack intelligence, mere beings of brute strength. Faced with my swordsmanship, honed over thousands of years, he can only fall.”

With his confident words, the lord nodded.

“Summon the barbarian. I’ll speak with him myself.”

* * *

Ketal stuffed a chicken leg into his mouth.

After a few chews, there was nothing left.

His party members made disgusted faces at the sight of him chewing on the bone.

Ketal grinned with satisfaction.

“It’s delicious. A good place. I like the quiet.”

Of course, a tavern wasn’t quiet.

It was just that Ketal’s overwhelming presence silenced the patrons.

“Drink freely, it’s on me.”

“Hahaha…”

Dry laughter echoed.

Ketal was thoroughly enjoying himself.

He asked his party members various questions.

“You said you’re a Paladin.”

[TL/N: The warrior is a paladin, he played the role of a warrior.]

“That’s right.”

“Then do you believe in a god too?”

“No. I don’t believe in gods.”

The warrior who called himself a Paladin shook his head.

Ketal was puzzled by that.

“Don’t Paladins use divine powers?”

“That’s correct.”

“But if so, how can you not believe in gods?”

“The concept of divine power is slightly different.”

The priest spoke quietly.

“Those like me wield the power of miracles and prayers through faith in a god. But Paladins wield their own divine power through their own belief. Those who wield power by believing in themselves are Paladins.”

“Ah, I see. Is there such a difference?”

Interest sparked in Ketal’s face.

“In that case, Alexandro, what’s your divine power? I haven’t seen it in action during our dungeon conquests.”

“Ah, I’m still in the training stage. My divine power hasn’t awakened yet.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Divine power, a force wielded through self-belief.

Could he use it too?

A pleasant thought flashed through Ketal’s mind.

He then turned to the priest.

“You mentioned your deity’s name is Kalosia. Is there a temple or church here? I’d like to offer a prayer.”

“Oh, no. There probably isn’t. Kalosia isn’t generally welcomed… ”

A false and deceitful god, Kalosia.

A deity rejected and shunned by the masses.

“Perhaps there’s a temple for another deity?”

“Oh. What deity?”

“Well, um…”

It was disrespectful for a servant of one god to speak another’s name.

The priest avoided answering.

The barbarian apologized, sensing her discomfort.

“Oh. Sorry. Asking such questions is rude.”

“Oh, no, it’s… ”

The uncomfortable atmosphere persisted in their gathering.

They continued to drink.

It was necessary, as they couldn’t stay sober in such an uncomfortable situation.

As a result, the confidence they thought wouldn’t come started to rise slowly, and the thief could become a bit bolder.

“Uh… Ketal… sir.”

“Yeah. What is it?”

“How strong are you, Ketal?”

The question snapped the party members, who were half lost in thought, back to attention.

Ketal’s strength was clearly beyond their comprehension.

How strong was he?

They were very curious.

But Ketal shook his head.

“Unfortunately, that’s a question for me to ask. I’m not familiar with the standards of strength in this world.”

“Ah…”

They realized the being in front of them was a barbarian.

He wasn’t someone well-versed in the knowledge of this world’s standards.

They had forgotten that fact amid the fluency of the common language.

“Are there standards for strength?”

“Yes. Roughly.”

The thief swallowed and began to explain.

“There are various criteria, but generally, it’s categorized into third-rate, second-rate, first-rate, superhuman, and hero. These five classifications.”

“At what level are you guys?”

“We’re not even third-rate trash. But even being third-rate doesn’t mean we’re weak.”

The fact that their strength could be quantified and given names meant it wasn’t something easily attainable.

Even being third-rate was enough to be a formidable force in a small territory.

Ketal stroked his chin with interest.

“What about that Skeleton Knight?”

“You’d need to be at least second-rate to stand a chance. Probably first-rate to take it down like you did.”

“Is that level first-rate?”

It was a story that didn’t resonate with Ketal.

That’s why he asked the most interesting part.

“What about those called superhumans and heroes? Are they strong?”

“They are.”

The thief replied promptly.

“I haven’t seen them myself, but even if only one-tenth of the rumors are true, they’re beyond our comprehension.”

Splitting the sky, splitting the earth.

Cutting the sea in half and shattering mountains.

Beings from legends.

They were superhumans and heroes.

“I assume warriors or Swordmasters are at that level.”

“Hero, Swordmasters.”

Ketal laughed.

Those names brought him great joy.

And the thief interpreted that laughter in a different light.

‘Could this barbarian be planning to fight them?’

Was that laughter anticipation for battle?

The thief trembled with fear.

So, Ketal continued to inquire, and the drinking session of them answering lasted until it was time for the tavern to close.

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Ketal rose from his seat, seeming disappointed.

“Is this it? Do you all have plans ahead?”

“Yes, yes! I do!”

“Yes! I’m very busy!”

“Well, that’s a shame. Then, I bid you farewell here.”

Ketal waved as he left.

“Farewell, comrades! Until next time!”

They tried to smile and wave back, but their thoughts were more along the lines of ‘Let’s never see him again!’

* * *

“Phew. This is nice.”

Ketal stretched out on the bed.

He had found lodging in a nearby inn.

The owner was trembling, but he could stay without any major issues.

A bed filled with straw.

Compared to modern beds filled with cotton, it was closer to a stable.

But even this was more than enough.

There were no lodgings for barbarians in the snowfields.

They simply dug holes in the snow and slept there.

Compared to that, this was heaven.

“Very nice.”

He was now in civilization.

Now, what should he do?

There were plenty of things he could do.

Many things he wanted to do.

There were so many that it was hard to organize his thoughts.

One thing Ketal had realized while surviving in the snow.

First, he needed to set a major goal.

Having a sense of purpose for all his actions.

That was important.

After some thought, Ketal made a decision.

“I want to… go on adventures.”

He wanted to travel, experience many things.

He wanted to go to the Magic Tower and the Elven Sanctum.

He wanted to visit the Royal Palace.

He wanted to explore places no one else had been to.

He wanted to meet the Swordmasters and Hero.

He wanted to fully enjoy the fantasy world.

“Let’s start slowly, enjoying what we can.”

There was plenty of time.

It would be a waste to rush through this rare fantasy world.

It would be better to move leisurely.

Ketal fell asleep leisurely.

And the next day.

Ketal woke up.

He realized he had fallen asleep under a ceiling and smiled with satisfaction.

His first morning in civilization.

It was very enjoyable.

Ketal yawned and got up to go outside.

Knock, knock.

A knocking sound echoed.

Ketal slowly got up and opened the door.

There stood the head of the guard.

“Are you awake?”

“The head of the guard? What’s the matter? Is there a problem?”

“Not exactly.”

The head of the guard took a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“The lord wishes to see you.”

“The lord?”

The lord of the territory.

The landowner.

After a brief moment of thought, Ketal nodded immediately.

“Understood.”

In a world with social distinctions, meeting the one who ruled over vast lands alone was interesting.

Although the head of the guard was momentarily taken aback by Ketal’s immediate acceptance, he soon stepped aside.

“Then, follow me.”

“Is it okay like this? If I’m meeting the lord, should I pay more attention to my attire?”

Meeting nobility wearing only a family vest was incredibly rude according to Ketal’s common sense.

“Th-that’s not necessary. The lord has already given permission, so you can come as you are.”

The head of the guard was flustered.

Ketal’s words were correct.

It was incredibly rude to meet nobility wearing only a leather vest, but no one, including himself, thought the barbarian would care.

And the lord hadn’t said anything either.

“I see. That’s fortunate. It would be difficult to find clothes that fit me.”

Ketal grinned and scratched his chin.

“Then, lead the way. I’ll follow.”

“Y-yes.”

The head of the guard led Ketal to the lord’s castle.

Ketal leisurely looked around as he walked.

When he first entered the territory, it was nighttime, so he only briefly checked the surroundings.

But now, taking his time to explore the territory proved to be quite interesting.

‘It’s cleaner than I thought.’

Ketal’s first impression of the Middle Ages was that it was dirty.

There was a saying that umbrellas and shoes with arches were made to avoid stepping on or being hit by things on the ground.

As hygiene wasn’t developed in that era, it was inevitable.

But this place was different.

The streets were clean, and there wasn’t a single piece of garbage on the ground.

‘Could it be the existence of magic and gods that makes the difference?’

Ketal looked around with interest, and the head of the guard found his behavior strange.

At first, he thought Ketal was amazed by seeing a city for the first time, but upon closer inspection, it wasn’t the case.

‘…He seems more like he’s investigating.’

Like a scholar with a strong thirst for knowledge, he carefully examined his surroundings.

After a brief moment of thought, the head of the guard blocked out his thoughts.

Anyway, it was something the lord would decide.

He didn’t need to worry about it.

How far had they gone?

They arrived at the lord’s castle.

“It’s the lord’s summons. Make way.”

“Yes, yes!”

The guards of the inner keep were startled to see Ketal and pushed their spears forward, then looked back at the head of the guard and hastily corrected their posture.

Ketal entered the castle.

The maids and servants who saw him screamed and backed away, but he paid them no mind.

He was too busy enjoying the sight of the castle interior.

As he progressed through the castle, the head of the guard stopped in front of the audience chamber and knocked.

At that moment, the head of the guard turned to Ketal.

“Sorry, but this is the lord’s presence. You can’t enter armed.”

“Understood.”

Ketal obediently handed over his axe.

Though it had been weathered by time, the axe, which hadn’t lost its edge, passed into the hands of the head of the guard.

The sight caused the head of the guard’s face to undergo a strange transformation.

‘…A barbarian is giving up his weapon so easily.’

“I’ve brought him. My lord.”

“Come in.”

The door opened.

There stood a middle-aged man with scattered gray hair.

He was the owner of this territory.

Ketal felt a slight sense of emotion.

In the past, there was a saying among nobles that they had blue blood.

Because they didn’t do physical labor, their skin didn’t tan, and their blood vessels were visible, but at that time, nobles were considered a different species from commoners.

Now he was meeting a true noble in the truest sense.

The man approached and extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Barbarian. I am Luke Barkan, the owner of this territory.”

At that moment, a piece of information flashed through Ketal’s mind.

He had studied myths and fantasies extensively in the modern world, and history was no different.

Among the customs practiced when meeting medieval nobles was one of protocol.

Ketal took the lord’s hand.

With proper posture, he observed the protocol and greeted him respectfully.

“I am Barbarian Ketal. Pleasure to meet you, Lord of Barkan Estate. Luke Barkan.”

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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