Barbarian Quest - Chapter 47: Witch (3)

People often dreamt when they had a fever. Their consciousness would get split into two, and their shallow consciousness would peer into the deep subconscious.

‘Forest and plains.’

Urich saw his motherland. People who lived through hunting and gathering. Whenever the land’s resources ran out, they would invade another tribe’s territory and build new sites.

‘We can do it.’

Farming, cities, civilization.

He wanted to spread civilization to his motherland.

His fever got higher. His breaths got shallower. His head was bathed in red. He saw a fire.

‘Sky Mountain Range.’

It was a lie that it was a world for the deceased. It was the world of the civilized.

‘Sun God Ru.’

Humans were unable to stare directly at the sun. If they did so, they would become blind.

‘If I die like this, my soul will…’

Sun God Ru’s doctrine was one of reincarnation.

The god would lead the dead souls to be purified within the sun’s arms before they return to this world to be born again. The living would one day meet the dead again. Human life was intertwined by countless reincarnations. They just do not remember one another.

‘Am I going to be reborn while forgetting everything?’

Urich slightly opened his eyes at the unfamiliar feeling. His bed was covered in sweat.

“Urich.”

It was Fahel’s voice. Urich’s dried lips moved, but he couldn’t make a sound.

‘Am I going to die like this?’

Urich could see death. The flames in his heart were getting smaller.

“Drink this.”

Fahel poured something into Urich’s mouth.

‘Will this work?’

Fahel also had doubts.

‘That damned prostitute.’

Juniva didn’t show herself after they made their deal. After the promised three days had passed, she sent porridge through a messenger.

“It might be difficult to eat, but make sure to slowly chew and swallow.”

It was a thick porridge. The bits of meat were small and tender to the point where it could just be swallowed. Because it had a lot of meat, oil rose to the top.

Fahel took a taste as well. It was a porridge with sweet flavors mixed with the savoriness of the meat. It looked like it was high-quality meat.

‘The porridge of life.’

That was what the messenger called it. They said it was the porridge of life that Juniva sent.

“Cough.”

Urich, who drank the dish, coughed before opening his eyes wide.

“Urich?”

The barbarian took the bowl from Fahel and lifted it, practically burying his face into the bowl as he ate the porridge. It seemed that his appetite was back for the first time in a while.

“Buuurp.”

Urich let out a long burp and lay on the bed as if he died.

‘He wasn’t conscious. He just ate and slept like an animal.’

Fahel looked at the lying Urich whose complexion was still bad.

“I didn’t pay you to bring me something like food, Juniva.”

Fahel stood up from his seat. He headed towards the tavern where he met the woman. The streets felt ominous because it was about time for the sun to set. Fahel could see the guards entering and leaving.

‘I spent too much time here.’

Fahel was desperate.

‘I have to leave Urich behind.’

There was no other method. If Urich didn’t get better soon, he had no choice but to leave him behind.

‘I will become king. I cannot be chained down here. If he cannot keep up with me, I must leave him behind.’

Fahel opened the door to the tavern. The tavern owner recognized him.

“I thought you wouldn’t come again, dear customer. I couldn’t find a barbarian healer. And even if they were a healer, there aren’t people who would reveal something like that these days.”

The tavern owner gave him a mug of beer that he didn’t ask for.

“That’s fine. I just had something that I wanted to ask. Where is the prostitute known as Juniva?”

“I didn’t see her again after you visited last time. I thought that you gave her a lot of money and that she had all sorts of fun for a few days.”

“You don’t even know where she lives?”

“To prostitutes, every man’s house is her house. Because there are countless men who would give her a place to sleep. Why? Did you get deceived by her?”

The tavern owner let out a light sneer. Fahel didn’t respond.

“I told you to be careful of your pouch. Those bitches are all just thieves. It’s easy to get fooled by them because the Southerners’ accent has a mystical feeling. Did she say that she was a healer? Ahh, I guess I hit the mark. Just think of it as a tuition fee. Those prostitutes are all just swindlers.”

“If you see Juniva, contact me. I will give you an ample reward.”

Fahel gave the tavern owner the name of the inn that he was staying at, and the tavern owner nodded without hesitation.

“And it might be best for outsiders like you to not go around so suspiciously. Another incident happened.”

“An incident?”

“Another infant was kidnapped. It’s probably the work of those Serpens remnants. Those damned, disgusting cultists.”

Fahel nodded and left the establishment. His stomach was upset. There was nothing but discomfort.

* * *

* * *

“Your Royal Highness, there is no more time. We must depart today.”

The day was bright. Phillion, who had already prepared, woke Fahel up.

“And the mercenaries?”

“They are deciding on a new leader.”

Fahel quickly put on his clothes and went out. The mercenaries were swarming on the first floor.

“The only person who can replace Urich is Donovan.”

“Then doesn’t that mean we have to change our name as well?”

“Quiet for now. Those who wish to remain in the mercenary group, please vote.”

The mercenaries were a mess. Fahel shook his head.

‘It’s finished.’

Without Urich, the mercenary group was just a disorderly crowd.

“We cannot trust Donovan. He’s a realistic person. We don’t know when he’d betray us with the change of leader as an excuse. If we want to keep working with them, we must receive a new vow. It seems that he is at least a devout believer.”

Phillion advised Fahel while being cautious of Donovan. Fahel looked down at the unruly group from the second floor.

“We depart today. After you finish up the internal cleanup and pick the new representative, come talk to me,” said Fahel. The mercenaries each looked at him with a different look.

‘That young master has changed.’

The mercenaries were also able to feel Fahel’s small change. The boy was becoming a man. The manner in which he spoke became more mature, and the sense of intimidation from a noble flowed out of him. His elegance, which had been hidden by his immaturity, finally revealed itself.

“So who’s going to become the mercenary group leader?”

The mercenaries took glances at each other.

“I’ll do it. I have military experience and have been with the mercenary group since its inception. I think that I have enough qualifications,” said Donovan while raising his hand. The mercenaries in the Donovan faction whistled and cheered.

‘Damn it. So he did step forward.’

Bakman checked the mood of the other mercenaries. He wasn’t just playing around during this time; he convinced some other mercenaries and formed his own faction.

‘Whether it works or not, I have to try. An opportunity like this won’t come again in my life.’

In the back, Bakman raised his hand.

“I’m not good at fighting like Urich or Donovan, but I will do my best to make sure that the mercenary group earns plenty of money. Do you want to follow a mercenary leader who’s so overtly ill-mannered like Donovan? I have confidence that I will be able to receive more rewards from the clients for the same job.”

Donovan had a closed personality. He spared nothing for his faction but was cold to those outside of it. No matter how anyone tried to spin it, he had an unlikeable attitude.

‘The skilled Donovan or the social Bakman.’

The mercenaries had to pick between these two people.

‘I have a low chance of defeating Donovan in a vote… But I have to try.’

Bakman glanced at Donovan. Donovan turned his head and looked back at him.

“Bakman, I didn’t know you would nominate yourself to become the mercenary leader.”

“I also have the qualifications. Combat ability isn’t all there is to becoming a mercenary leader.”

“I agree. That isn’t everything.”

Donovan smiled while baring his teeth.

Bakman’s eyes were trembling. A feeling of discomfort brushed past him.

‘What is it? There’s something that I am missing.’

There were no more nominees. The mercenaries stood perfectly in rows and columns with equal distance between each other.

“Those who wish to quit being mercenaries or want to abstain, go to the side. Alright, let’s see.”

There were thirty-eight mercenaries participating in the vote. There were quite a number of mercenaries uninterested in the voting like Sven and the Northerners. Those people didn’t care who became the mercenary group leader.

“Those who are voting for Bakman, go to the left. Those voting for Donovan, go to the right.”

The mercenaries moved while glancing and taking notice of each other.

“Move quickly. The result is already decided, no?” Donovan yawned as he crossed his arms. He laughed after watching his faction.

‘The numbers were closer than I thought. I might be able to win,’ thought Bakman while looking at the splitting crowd. He clenched his fist tightly.

“Bakman, I always disliked you,” said Donovan under his breath.

“What a coincidence. I also disliked you. I always hated seeing your stupid mug ever since we were gladiators.”

“It’s obvious to me why you decided to nominate yourself this time. If you are able to win, it’s good, and if you don’t, you plan on leaving.”

Donovan cackled. His laughter made Bakman uncomfortable.

‘Wait.’

Only then did Bakman realize the source of his uneasiness.

‘Why? Why are mercenaries from the Donovan faction voting for me?’

A chill ran down his spine. Bakman tried to say something, but the voting had already concluded.

“A tie. An equal number of supporters,” said the mercenary who was mediating the votes.

Creak.

Donovan stood up from his seat. He pulled out a sword from his waist.

“Then, whichever one of us receives Ru’s affection more should become the mercenary leader. Bakman! Raise your weapon. Or crawl between my legs like a dog!” shouted Donovan as if he had been waiting for it. The mercenaries shouted and urged for a fight.

‘So he was aiming for this. The mercenary leader position and my head.’

Bakman closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

‘So I’ll fall to my own schemes. Donovan already prepared ahead of time to draw out the vote.’

Bakman opened his eyes.

‘Do I give up being a man and live, or do I die as a man?’

If he gave up the fight here, he would become a laughing stock. He wouldn’t be able to forget this humiliation for the rest of his life. Every time the mercenaries drank, they would talk about the story of ‘Bakman the Coward’ as if it were a snack to complement their drinks.

‘…Or I could get lucky and win.’

Bakman stretched his shoulders and let out a slight laugh. He might have been an opportunist, but he wasn’t a coward. He was also a gladiator before—a warrior that fought with his life on the line.

Creak.

Bakman lifted his spear.

“Yeah. That’s it, Bakman! We are men. If you avoided the fight, I wouldn’t have just looked down upon you. I wouldn’t have treated you as a human!” said Donovan while spinning his sword. A battle was confirmed.

“UWAAAAAAH!”

“A battle! It’s a battle!”

The mercenaries moved aside the chairs and tables and formed a circle. The two nominees faced off against each other within it.

“I had a feeling that a day like this would come. I had a lot of dreams about my spear piercing your throat.”

Donovan laughed after hearing Bakman’s words.

“I also dreamt a lot about slicing your neck. What if we surprisingly get along well? Keke.”

Donovan didn’t raise his shield. He was confident that he could defeat the other with just a single sword. There was that big of a skill gap between them. No matter what anyone else said, Donovan was an excellent warrior.

‘As expected from Donovan. His pressure isn’t a joke.’

Bakman raised his spear and looked at his opponent. Donovan paced around him.

“Fuu, fuu.”

Bakman was controlling his breathing while preparing to extend his arms.

‘This battle will be decided in a single attack.’

Bakman’s hands were sweating. He reimagined the sense of battle.

‘The reason that I decided on the spear as my weapon was because I was used to it.’

Bakman, a former fisherman. He was an excellent spearman—skilled enough to pierce even fish with his spear. He was also skilled enough to be called every time they went whaling. In his hometown, he was complimented for his amazing skills, but it was only amazing by the standards of the fishing village.

‘The world is vast. There are countless people like me. Whenever I saw exceptionally strong people, I realized that I wasn’t fit to be a warrior.’

Bakman took a deep breath. He waited for Donovan to enter his range while holding steady as a rock.

‘Ru, is this your punishment for my crime of living too shrewdly? Or is this a trial that you wish for me to overcome?’

Clang.

Bakman’s Sol pendant shook. Donovan dashed in as if that was the signal.