novelraw Chapter 101 : Rod
Chapter 101 : Rod
Chapter 101: Rod
The gigantic monster pounded at the cliff.
The ground shook and deafening booms rang out in succession, but there was none of the aftermath from before.
As if encircled by shields, the land was solid.
“You said it was a precaution left behind by Sigbard’s father. What did he do to withstand that monster’s attacks?”
“Accumulation technique. He left behind a portion of his strength.”
An explanation followed, saying it was a secret art passed down among the Barbarian Tribe.
“More precisely, it’s said to be about accumulating power, but I don’t know the details either.”
Sigbard agreed.
He himself did not know much about the accumulation technique either.
“For now, Gunrad’s strength is stopping that thing, but it won’t last forever.”
“Then we need to deal with it as soon as possible.”
“No need to rush. It looks like it can easily last ten years.”
‘Blocking attacks from a monster that big for ten years?’
Robin wondered what kind of person the barbarian named Gunrad had been in life.
Even if barbarians had larger frames than humans, they were nothing compared to monsters.
And yet, that strength did not fall behind a monster’s.
‘If that’s true, it seems like he could have overwhelmed that monster, so why……?’
Robin shot Sigbard a sideways glance and then closed his mouth.
There had to be a story behind it.
He changed the subject.
“By the way, what’s that monster’s name? Even if it’s a single individual, it should have a name.”
It was probably something that sounded terrifying and powerful.
Burt looked down at the creature and spoke.
“Words carry power. When many people call something by a name often, power comes to reside in that target. It has no name. The chieftain knows this too, so he’ll probably call it something rough and careless.”
“Still, we can’t keep calling it ‘that thing,’ ‘that monster,’ or ‘that beast.’”
“Then you name it. Preferably something trivial.”
Emily, who had been listening, chimed in.
“Then how about Potato?”
“Fine. From now on, that thing’s name is Potato.”
Robin looked at Potato.
It really did seem less intimidating.
‘Come to think of it, the Captain also called the Demon Tribe No. 1, No. 2, however he pleased….…’
At Burt’s words, Sigbard nodded as well.
From Sigbard’s perspective, it would be the most hateful potato in the world.
Judging by how his fist was clenched, it looked like he might charge down at any moment.
“Wait. You fought it yesterday, so you must have felt something. How do you think you should defeat Potato?”
“Honestly, other than just repeatedly clashing with it, nothing comes to mind.”
“The disparity created by size. It’s not easy to narrow that gap. Just getting stepped on by Potato could make your whole body burst apart.”
Burt held out his hand toward Robin.
When he handed over two swords, he lightly swung them and fired off fighting spirit.
Even with the slow swings, Potato could not evade the fighting spirit.
“Whether human, monster, or Demon Tribe, if you’re hit in a vital point, you die.”
Potato’s body, struck by the fighting spirit, slowly stiffened.
“And ultra-large monsters have large vital points too.”
Robin memorized the spots where Burt’s attacks had landed on Potato.
Between the brows, the neck, the chest, the tail…….
As more fighting spirit struck its entire body, it grew sluggish, then came to a complete stop.
“Even if you’re not a powerhouse who can alter terrain like Gunrad, you can still win.”
Robin mulled over Burt’s words.
Burt’s fighting spirit was simple.
It wasn’t flashy or explosive, yet Potato could not move an inch.
“Even dragons shrink back if you aim for their reverse scales. So what do you think will happen to that half-witted Potato?”
“I get what you mean. But there’s a problem.”
Robin held out his hand to Burt.
Burt snorted and handed the sword back.
Fighting spirit gathered on the sword in Robin’s hand.
“Even attacks that strike weaknesses only work if they reach a certain level. I’m not there yet.”
“Then swing until you reach it.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“From the moment you wounded Potato, the match was established. Even if you can’t see the end, keep going. As long as you don’t let go of your sword, your own stature will take shape.”
‘So in the end, it’s just telling me to keep at it until it works.’
That wasn’t a bad thing.
There was nothing more reassuring than power built up honestly.
“In truth, you already meet the conditions to defeat Potato. The Mercenary King. You copied the twin-sword technique of the one called by that embarrassing epithet, didn’t you?”
“You knew that too?”
“It’s been modified to suit your body, but the form is similar enough that you can call upon his power. However.”
Burt continued in a bitter voice.
“I recommend building your own sword rather than relying on a failure’s sword techniques.”
“Why is the Mercenary King a failure? I heard he was an incredible person.”
“The decision is yours.”
Ignoring Robin’s question, Burt left the choice to him.
‘So if I want, he’ll tell me the Mercenary King’s story?’
To manifest a hero’s power, one had to deeply understand that person.
Robin recalled the martial prowess Calimacos had displayed.
He had defeated the Imperial Knight Commander single-handedly.
Even though he should have been exhausted from consecutive battles, he had cleaved through Verman’s vast aura.
‘Yet he doesn’t recommend the Mercenary King’s swordsmanship?’
After pondering for a moment, Robin spoke.
“Can’t I do both?”
“It’s not impossible. It’ll just be harder.”
“Then I’ll do both. Teach me how to borrow the Mercenary King’s power.”
“Pack mule.”
Burt called out to Emily.
Understanding what was being asked, Emily pulled out an old book and handed it to Robin.
“What is this?”
“An incredible treasure you couldn’t get even if you paid for it! Ta-da—it's the diary of the Mercenary King Harold!”
“…Really?”
Robin quickly flipped through the book.
Records from about thirty years ago spread before his eyes.
“If I ask where you got it, you won’t tell me, right?”
Emily looked away and whistled.
Burt calmly jerked his chin.
“Read it when you have time, then go down there and keep swinging your sword.”
Robin carefully tucked the journal into his chest.
Sigbard, as if he could no longer endure it, clung to the cliff.
Following Sigbard as he strode down, Robin also prepared to descend.
It was time to mince Potato.
Leaving Robin and Sigbard behind as they faced Potato, Burt moved on.
Emily tried to follow from behind, but he brushed her off.
“Watch, and if it gets dangerous, intervene.”
“Yes! Just trust me.”
At the words that Burt would be leaving for a while, Emily’s expression brightened.
Dragging his limping leg, Burt arrived at the front gate of the Barbarian village.
Two barbarians standing guard blocked his path, but upon seeing Burt’s face, they hesitated.
“Move.”
“But the chieftain…….”
“If you want to get hit, then come at me.”
The two barbarians did not stop Burt as he slowly entered the village.
More precisely, they could not bring themselves to stop him.
Their instincts told them.
If they attacked, they would be reduced to pulp.
At the appearance of the outsider, the barbarians stopped what they were doing and stared at Burt.
To them, it was a familiar face.
The young barbarians did not know him, but all the older ones remembered Burt.
In the past, when Gunrad’s comrades had visited, the entire village had held a feast.
“Where is the chieftain?”
A nearby barbarian pointed to the house in the center.
As Burt took a step forward, countless barbarians parted to either side.
By the time he reached the front of the house, the chieftain had come out.
“What is it, outsider.”
“I came to find Gunrad’s weapon. Where did you hide it?”
“I cannot tell an outsider.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not taking it. The inheritance should go to the son, right? Pass the weapon on to Sigbard.”
“What nonsense are you spouting. You barge in without permission and cause trouble. That’s enough, outsider.”
The barbarians beside the chieftain tightened their grips on their weapons.
“So ridiculous I’m at a loss for words.”
Burt took a deep breath and shouted.
“The Teskatore sealed by Gunrad has awakened!”
Teskatore.
The name of a monster few remembered anymore.
In front of Robin, it had been named Potato, but Teskatore was its original name.
The seasoned barbarians stirred.
“Do you know who is facing that disaster of a monster right now! Sigbard, whom you drove out, and a human boy outsider are standing against it!”
The chieftain frowned deeply.
“I want to kick that idiot Gunrad in the ass! To sacrifice himself for the sake of people like you. Seeing you cower in fear after losing just once makes my blood boil!”
The barbarians bristled.
Teskatore was far too large to be called merely a monster.
Just looking at it soaked one in a sense of defeat.
Filled with resentment and frustration, one barbarian asked.
“Then what are we supposed to do! It’s not like we want to leave that monster alone either!”
“It’s simple. Fight, in the way you’re best at.”
“But how on earth……!”
“You idiots. Have you even forgotten how to fight. Clench your fists and land a punch. Isn’t that the barbarian specialty?”
The response was lukewarm.
And for good reason—Burt’s words amounted to nothing more than a suggestion to commit suicide.
“Starting today, Sigbard and the human boy will charge at that monster every day. Anyone interested, go watch at least.”
As if he had heard enough, the chieftain waved his hand at the barbarians under his command.
Burt clicked his tongue and glared at them.
The barbarians froze as if paralyzed.
“So there isn’t even a warrior left who can endure this level of pressure.”
“…If it hadn’t been Sigbard, it wouldn’t have come to this.”
“Enough. Just tell me where Gunrad’s weapon is.”
The chieftain clamped his mouth shut.
Burt looked around, but no one opened their mouth.
“Tsk, it’s cringeworthy, but it can’t be helped.”
Burt closed his eyes and murmured in a low voice, barely audible.
Still dreaming of the battlefield, longing for it
In a world without enemies, the rod grows heavier
The battle has ended, yet the inner struggle continues
He did not know
That on that first battlefield he faced
His soul was still being awaited
No one interrupted Burt’s recitation.
He slightly opened his eyes and spoke into the empty air.
“Come.”
“…….”
“So I am not the master, is that it.”
The chieftain crossed his arms and sneered.
“This is your final warning. If you don’t turn back—”
Paaat.
Before the chieftain could finish, light shot up from the ground.
As dust rose, what appeared was a long rod.
The gray rod descended into Burt’s hand.
“You buried it under your own house? Do you have any shame?”
“…Hand it over.”
After swinging the rod around a few times, Burt curled the corner of his mouth.
“Oh yeah? Then take it.”
He flung the rod straight at the chieftain.
The chieftain’s face twisted as he caught it with both hands.
The muscles in his arms bulged, veins standing out.
Crack.
The chieftain sank into the snowy ground without changing his standing posture.
Only after being buried up to his knees did he let go of the rod.
As if it were a lie that it had dragged a barbarian down, the rod rolled to Burt’s feet.
Burt picked it up with one hand and grinned.
“It’s too much weight for you to handle, right?”
“…….”
“If Sigbard can’t wield it either, I’ll return it.”
Burt tapped the ground with the rod like a cane.
The massive weight spread through the earth.
“Ah, how about this? If you come watch us catch Teskatore, I’ll give you a chance to try lifting it.”
No barbarian looked tempted.
No matter how simple it looked, that rod was something no one but Gunrad could lift.
They were shocked that a human had lifted what even barbarians could not.
“I didn’t set a time limit, so if you change your mind, come anytime.”
With those words, Burt turned and walked away.
No one stopped Burt as he limped out of the village.
In the eyes of the barbarians watching him, different emotions surfaced.
Longing, jealousy, hostility, reverence.
A wind of change blew through the rigid tribal society that had been frozen for so long.