novelraw Chapter 95 : Barbarian
Chapter 95 : Barbarian
Chapter 95: Barbarian
After crawling across the snowfield for an hour, Robin realized one thing.
This place was high ground.
He had thought it was a peak-shaped glacier, but it was not.
It was a mountain.
A mountain blanketed in snow.
‘It must be the boundary line dividing Runeberg and the Demon Realm.’
At the edge of the Domain of Count Wilcock, the northernmost tip of the Empire, lay a mountain range.
The one who had built a nest beneath that mountain range had been the founder of the Wilcock family, and the Demon Tribe had not crossed the mountains recklessly.
High and long.
A collection of mountains, describable in simple terms, divided the territories of races.
‘Is there really nothing at all.’
Thud. Thud.
The sword he had once cherished had long since become nothing more than an ice pick.
Each time he stabbed it into the ground and pulled it back out, clumps of snow clung to it.
Even surrounding it with fighting spirit to melt the ice had its limits.
He chose to preserve his body heat rather than the sword.
Even so, Robin’s body suffered frostbite starting from the extremities.
He tried moving his toes, but there was no sensation.
While constantly moving his arms, he stared vacantly at his legs.
He had wrapped layers of clothing tightly around himself to increase insulation, but it seemed useless against this frigid blizzard.
Thud!
He stabbed the sword in his left hand into the ground and shook the sword in his right hand hard.
Snowflakes scattered.
He tapped his leg lightly with the sword.
“Is it necrotic.”
Robin wondered whether he should cut off his leg.
If he was the only living being around, cutting off the leg and moving on would increase his chances of survival.
A leg that could no longer function was nothing but dead weight now.
If his body became even a little lighter, he could conserve his strength.
His life as a swordsman would be over, but he could extend the time he had left.
‘Give up the sword……?’
Swordsmanship had been one pillar that had supported Robin’s life since childhood.
He had been told he had talent, but even if he had been dull, he would have kept holding a sword.
Simply gripping and swinging a sword had been fun.
That was why he hesitated.
What if he met someone in ten minutes.
That expectation, no more than empty hope, made Robin waver.
In his frustration, he shouted.
“Is anyone there!”
An echo with no reply filled the surroundings.
“Save me!”
The intensifying snowstorm whispered to Robin.
There was no one here to help him.
He had to survive on his own.
But could he survive.
He had to make a decision.
“The top priority is survival. Right, so…….”
Grrrk.
When he scraped his leg with the sword, the sound of ice grinding echoed.
He could not maintain his body heat, and even his clothes had frozen stiff.
He focused on how far the sensation in his leg still remained.
Up to the thigh, his sense of touch was alive.
The problematic part started from the knee downward.
“Would around here be enough.”
He placed the sword a handspan below the knee.
Considering the future, cutting below the knee rather than above it was more advantageous.
Whether the joint was intact or not made a huge difference.
It was something he had heard from Burt.
“If Boss Burt saw this, he’d laugh at me.”
The black sword, encrusted with ice crystals, had lost its edge.
Using the sword stuck in the ground as a whetstone, he struck it against it.
Clang! Clang!
Cracks spread through the ice, and part of the blade was revealed.
He pressed it against his leg and began sawing as if with a saw.
Scrrk scrrk.
The clothing was cut away.
The fabric wrapped around his leg fell to the ground, but he felt no cold.
Sssk.
His bare calf was revealed.
A leg swollen blue and purple, as if badly bruised.
Could a human body swell this much.
He pressed the sword to his leg and moved it.
The skin was cut, but there was no pain.
The blood that flowed out was closer to black than red.
Kak.
The sword cut through muscle and caught on bone.
Kak. Kak.
He moved his hand desperately, but the bone did not cut easily.
He put more strength into it, but there was no progress.
Instead, the blade’s edge was chipping away.
After struggling for five minutes, Robin pulled the sword away.
He could not even cut off his own leg as he pleased.
“No, no. That’s not it. Let’s be more honest. I’m attached to life.”
Robin looked into the truth embedded deep within himself.
The words Calimacos had given him before dying.
Mirian’s final request.
Imelda, who had thrown herself in to save him.
It was not because of them.
“I want to live.”
There was probably no one in the world who truly wanted to die.
Robin had believed he was steeling his resolve to survive in order to follow the wishes of those who had gone before him.
But that was not it.
With a voice thick with pent-up resentment, he recited to the empty air.
“What kind of swordsman can fight without a leg? Even with both legs intact, training swordsmanship isn’t exactly easy.”
“The dead deserve proper funerals. Even if I can’t help, I can’t get in the way.”
“I’ll survive no matter what and make them pay for their crimes. Demon Tribe or knights, I’ll take revenge.”
“I have to see if the young lady and Serena are safe, and there’s still so much I need to learn from the elder…….”
Who was he ranting to like this.
No one was listening, but Robin spoke anyway.
It was purely his own wish.
He poured out his unfiltered sincerity for a long time.
“I want to live… ngh……. There’s so much I still have to do… so much I want to do…….”
Thud.
He stabbed the sword that had been cutting his leg into the ground.
He pulled out the other sword, extended his arm, and stabbed it into the ground as well.
Once again, he crawled forward.
Even though the necrotic calf, with bone exposed, got in the way.
Even as the blizzard raged fiercely, as if mocking his wishes.
Robin moved on.
Thud. Thud.
If he truly intended to cut off his leg, he would have done it long ago.
If he had briefly wrapped fighting spirit around the sword, it would have been cut cleanly.
Once he acknowledged it, his heart felt lighter.
Woooong.
The fighting spirit circulating throughout his body expanded.
What had only been enough to wrap around one arm grew large enough to cover his chest.
Robin peeled off part of the fighting spirit and sent it to his leg.
“I will survive no matter what.”
Had a miracle been granted in response to that fierce will.
Vitality welled up within Robin’s body.
After facing his own true feelings, controlling his fighting spirit became easier.
He had a premonition that, given enough time, he could advance further.
Thud.
From afar, the sound of something heavy falling echoed.
Thud. Thud.
The rhythmic sound gradually drew closer.
Robin looked toward the source of the sound with both anticipation and caution.
‘Please, let it be a person.’
What emerged through the blizzard betrayed Robin’s expectations.
It was a white bear.
The bear sniffed the air and approached Robin.
‘I have no choice but to fight.’
He transferred the fighting spirit enveloping his entire body into his sword.
The cold filled his body, and the bear showed no sign of retreating.
Just as the mercenary band had done, he swung his sword with the intention of drawing out the fighting spirit.
Whooong!
It merely cut through empty air, and nothing changed.
The fighting spirit flickered only around the sword.
The white bear, seemingly curious about Robin, drew closer.
It was a disadvantageous situation for Robin, who could not move his legs.
‘If it comes closer, I’ll cut it down in one stroke.’
At last, the bear came right up to him, and Robin swung his sword.
Slash.
The formless fighting spirit failed to reach the bear.
The sharp-witted bear sprang back lightly, as if it had seen through Robin’s intentions.
“One more time.”
If he killed the bear, he could skin it and wrap the hide around himself.
If he cut into its flesh and buried himself in its warmth, he could ease the frostbite.
As Robin imagined what would come after killing the bear, pain surged up his leg, and he turned his head.
Blood gushed violently from the leg he had slashed in an attempt to amputate.
‘Good. I might be able to save my leg too.’
Just as he was about to face the bear with renewed hope.
The world reeled as if he had been struck on the head.
“Ugh.”
‘This is no time for this. I need to stay conscious.’
As if unwilling to miss the opportunity, the bear lunged forward.
“Tarkar Nurtu Garten!”
A person?
The bear’s forepaw moved slowly toward Robin.
Normally, it would have been an attack he could easily evade, but he could not move.
‘I’ve lost too much blood.’
Thud.
His vision went dark.
When he opened his eyes, he was in a cave.
The crackling sound of a campfire burning woke Robin.
As he propped himself up and looked around, he saw a man.
The man, his entire body covered in fur clothing, was a giant.
His hair was roughly cut and flew wildly, and his beard was thick and bushy.
Their eyes met as the man warmed himself by the campfire.
The man rose as he was and approached Robin.
Judging by his height, he seemed to be over two meters tall.
“Lindradirkan Barnurgrimto Mirga Stel.”
“…You don’t know the Imperial common language?”
“Gallornebrin Brikas Telin Mur.”
It was a language Robin had never heard before.
After exchanging a few words with Robin, the man also realized they could not understand each other.
He used gestures and movements to explain something, and as far as Robin could tell, it was as follows.
Because the injuries were severe, he had brought him to the cave.
This man, who looked like a barbarian, had saved Robin.
“Thank you.”
He bowed his head politely, pronouncing each syllable carefully.
The man nodded, then poked Robin’s leg.
“Ugh!”
Pain surged through him.
Looking at his leg, he saw that crushed herbs had been smeared thickly over it.
The man took out a container of herbs from his bundle and showed it to him.
It seemed to mean that he had treated the wound.
Robin’s face brightened.
He had not expected his leg to recover this quickly.
When he expressed as much gratitude as he could, the man showed a satisfied expression.
Crackle crackle.
There was so much he wanted to ask, but since they could not communicate, it was frustrating.
The man, perhaps not very talkative himself, kept his mouth shut.
Robin checked his physical condition and organized his thoughts.
‘It’s not to the point where I can move right now.’
His leg had returned from the brink of necrosis, but even before that, his shinbone had been broken.
Each time he applied strength, a bursting pressure was exerted on his blood vessels.
The man had noticed the broken leg and kindly even set a splint for him.
Seeing Robin wiggle his toes, the man brought over Robin’s sword, which had been placed over the campfire.
Robin’s sword was no more than a skewer.
A thick piece of meat was stuck on it, dripping juices steadily over the fire.
The man handed one to Robin, then tore into the meat skewered on his own.
Robin also took a bite.
“It’s delicious.”
When Robin said it with a slight smile, the man also lifted the corners of his mouth.
‘Did he catch the bear that tried to kill me.’
That much, he could not know.
Perhaps because it had been cooked for a long time, the meat was well done all the way through.
Having been starving from successive battles, Robin devoured every last bit without leaving a scrap.
Only the sounds of chewing filled the space between the two, without conversation.
After the man finished his portion of meat, he handed the sword to Robin.
When Robin accepted the sword, the man gathered his belongings and stood up.
As the man headed straight out of the cave, Robin spoke.
“Are you leaving?”
When Robin pointed at the man and then at the cave entrance, the man nodded.
“Please take me with you!”
Robin shouted as he crawled along the ground.
The man shook his head side to side.
“If you take me with you, I’ll definitely be useful!”
He said it while pounding his chest, but the man pointed at Robin and then at the campfire.
“I know it’s cold outside. But if I stay here alone, I’ll starve to death!”
Robin grabbed the man’s ankle and clung to it.
The man looked at Robin for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“Mokum.”
The man hoisted Robin onto his shoulder and stepped out of the cave.
Robin let out a sigh of relief.
Meeting a benevolent person in an unfamiliar place was as hard as plucking a star from the sky.
He could not afford to let this man go.
However, what greeted Robin outside the cave was the white bear.
‘So it didn’t die back then!’
“Step back! I’ll try to do something somehow!”
Robin thrust the sword, still slick with meat grease, toward the white bear.
In the cold wind, the meat grease had solidified into a pale layer of fat.
Perhaps catching the scent, the bear sniffed and approached.
“What are you doing! Put me down and run away!”
Robin patted the man’s shoulder, but the man did not put him down.
Only after Robin infused fighting spirit into himself did the man finally look at him.
The action the man took next was unexpected.
He stepped between Robin and the bear, extending his hands toward both sides.
“Grrrooong.”
As if it were a puppy, the white bear rubbed its cheek against the man’s hand.
Robin let out a hollow sigh.
“So you two were on the same side.”
The man lifted Robin, who was sitting in the snow, and seated him atop the bear.
A warm body heat could be felt through the fur.
The bear, the man, and the boy left the cave, cutting through the blizzard.