“Ahem…”
An uncomfortable silence lingered for a moment. The old tanner, recalling his earlier outburst, lowered his head in embarrassment while Khan patiently waited for him to speak.
The rest of the party, unfamiliar with Northland’s language, had no choice but to remain silent as well. Eventually, the tanner sighed deeply and broke the silence, expressing his regret.
“I apologize. I’ve been on edge lately… Looking at you now, your Northland tongue is quite fluent, unlike those others. And your companions seem like decent folk.”
“I’ve just crossed the North Sea and arrived. It’s been years since I last returned to Northland.”
“… Then it’s understandable you might not know the situation.”
The old man glanced at Khan’s party and lowered his voice.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but lately, people here have been treating your kind like a nuisance.”
“I had a vague suspicion already. What exactly happened, old man?”
It was understandable that people from Hoarfrost Gorge were considered a nuisance. Even Khan viewed them as “battle-obsessed, hopeless cases”.
The problem was that Northland’s residents, who hadn’t spent months living among the Hoarfrost Gorge people, were sharing the same sentiment.
“Around this time last year, a warrior from Hoarfrost Gorge came down to Northland. He settled around this city. Now, that wasn’t unusual—those things happened from time to time. Initially, it was even seen positively. They dealt with dangerous monsters without being asked, which was appreciated. You people can’t resist a dangerous fight, can you?”
“That’s true. Plus, making a cheap deal sounds like something those fools would do.”
“Ahem… Anyway, that’s how it started. But then, they began coming into the city and causing trouble, and that changed things.”
“Causing trouble…?”
“Take me, for example. The damage I’ve suffered is no trivial matter! Those brutes would bring me leather they had butchered beyond recognition, demanding I buy it. They disrupted my business, trying to bargain in their broken language. My customers have been avoiding my shop just to steer clear of them!”
“Those fools trying to bargain? That doesn’t sound right…”
“It’s no lie!”
The tanner stormed to the back of his shop and returned moments later with something unpleasant, tossing it onto the floor. Standing there was a heap of poorly tanned leather, slashed and rendered unusable by any proper leatherworker. The tanner’s face was flush with anger as he pointed to the mess.
“Look at this! They expect me to pay good coin for this rubbish, then get violent when I refuse. And they call themselves warriors!”
Khan examined the leather pile, frowning. The condition of the hides confirmed the old man’s story. It was indeed the work of untrained hands, perhaps even the same people from Hoarfrost Gorge.
“Seems like those idiots have been ruining your business for a while. Have no fear; we have no intention of causing any trouble.”
“If that’s true, then I apologize for my earlier behavior,” the tanner said, his anger subsiding.
“I’ve just had enough of those troublemakers. If you genuinely need something, I’m willing to help, provided you aren’t like those brutes.”
“Don’t worry. We’re here on legitimate business.”
With the tension easing, Khan’s party began discussing their needs with the old tanner, readying themselves for the next step in their journey.
“See this? They didn’t cut the hide properly. Instead, they tore it apart with brute strength, making it impossible to salvage. And then they demand I buy this rubbish—how could anyone view that positively?”
“Of course, they wouldn’t understand your explanation either, given the language barrier.”
“Exactly! That’s what I’m saying!”
Leaving the tanner to vent his grievances, Khan examined the marks on the leather closely.
‘D-Hog hide. And from a pretty big one, too.’
To Khan, d-Hogs were merely trivial nuisances he could crush effortlessly. However, for ordinary humans, hunting a D-Hog was nearly impossible. They were as large as a robust human and exceptionally tough, making it challenging to score their hide with a simple cut. Nevertheless, the ones who hunted this D-Hog had turned the hide into a rag, not through skill, but brute force.
The marks were not from slicing but from driving a blade in and tearing it out forcefully—a familiar sight to Khan, akin to the crude sword work he did in the early days of his possession when he wielded a sword like a club.
‘I think I know who these idiots are.’
After pondering for a moment, Khan looked up.
“Old man, do you know where those troublemakers are?”
“Oh, I know where they are, but why? Are you going to confront them?”
“You want me to get rid of those nuisances, don’t you?”
“Of course! But are you sure? There are three of them…”
“Three non-warriors are hardly a challenge.”
“What? They’re not warriors?”
The tanner’s eyes widened in surprise.
The reason the city couldn’t easily handle the troublemakers was their sheer brute strength, wasn’t it? But now Khan was saying they weren’t even warriors?
“They were as big as you… Maybe even bigger…”
“You’ll see. Now, lead me to those troublemakers.”
“Karyan─!”
With a battle cry, an ash-gray barbarian lunged forward, tearing the heads off two orcs with a massive double-edged axe. Cutting a human’s neck cleanly requires considerable strength and skill, but this barbarian ripped through orc necks, which were twice as thick, with sheer brute force.
At that moment, an orc grabbed him from behind, wrapping thick green arms around his waist and abdomen in a grip that seemed impossible to escape.
“Kartusra! Good!”
The barbarian seemed pleased by the situation, laughing as he reached back, grabbing the orc by the nape. Then, leaping in place, he twisted his body mid-air, pulling his arm forward.
“Khrrraaauuughh!”
It was Kartus, the hand-to-hand combat technique of the barbarian.
It was already a close match between the similarly sized and strong barbarian and orc. But with the addition of Kartus, the specialized hand-to-hand combat technique of Hoarfrost Gorge, the scales tipped decisively.
With a full rotation, the orc was slammed into the ground, roaring in pain from the impact.
Thwack.
The barbarian made the orc’s grotesque face even worse by driving his axe into it, then switched targets, rampaging among the remaining five orcs surrounding him.
Despite being outnumbered, he was clearly dominating. Anyone witnessing the scene would have been amazed by the legendary valor of the Hoarfrost Gorge warriors.
“Raaaaaah─! Victory!”
As the barbarian roared in triumph after taking down all the orcs that had dared to challenge him, two more figures joined his side.
“Ashuk, son of Tarak! This side is clear too!”
“Hmm. What about Fatun, daughter of Omar?”
“Not yet!”
“Don’t lie! I finished before Amal, son of Karan!”
There were two more barbarian, as large as orcs, each wielding bone clubs and spears crafted from beast bones. Amal, son of Karan, who held the club, snorted and shouted.
“Fatun! Lying is bad! Karyan hates lies!”
“You liar. I finished faster than you, so I win this time!”
“I took down five. You only got four! Clearly, I’m the winner!”
“Hmph! Talking like some scared kid. I caught more, so I win! Karyaaaan──!”
Fatun, wielding the spear, let out a battle cry, drowning out Amal’s words.
In his rage, Amal swung a punch at Fatun’s face, immediately countered by Fatun’s fist driving into Amal’s stomach.
Despite having just fought a brutal battle with the orcs, they had energy to spare and started brawling with each other. Watching Amal and Fatun fight, Ashuk nodded approvingly.
“Truly a warrior’s behavior! Karyan will be pleased!”
While the fight continued, Ashuk began collecting their spoils, not bothering to intervene. Instead of stopping their fight, he encouraged it. Ashuk, son of Tarak, tore off the testicles of an orc with his rough hands. Blood splattered everywhere, but he paid it no mind.
‘Today was a fulfilling fight!’
Fighting and winning, claiming the spoils, and diving into even more dangerous battles to sacrifice oneself—it was the natural way of life and a belief for the warriors of Hoarfrost Gorge.
Ashuk, the leader of the three barbarian, left Hoarfrost Gorge to practice this belief.
‘The elders underestimate us too much. We are warriors in our own right!’
At least that’s what they believed. And why wouldn’t they? No one outside of Hoarfrost Gorge had managed to defeat them yet.
Merely being young and thus ineligible to take the warrior’s trial, Ashuk felt deeply humiliated by not being recognized as a warrior. For someone who prided himself on being a descendant of the Warrior God, it was intolerable.
Of course, he didn’t act on these feelings right away.
But then, the son of the Great Warrior, someone they deemed a coward and unworthy of being a warrior, passed the trial splendidly and left Hoarfrost Gorge.
‘There’s no way that weak coward could have passed the warrior’s trial!’
It had to be some sort of mistake. If not, then that cunning coward must have cheated somehow. After all, he was the son of the Great Warrior but had chosen to bury himself in piles of paper instead of embracing a warrior’s valor.
“I won!”
“No, I won! I didn’t bleed, but you did!”
“That’s not my blood!”
It was at this moment that Amal and Fatun, having seemingly settled their fight, turned their heads and called out to Ashuk.
“Ashuk, son of Tarak!”
“You decide! Who is the winner of this duel?”
As always, the result was a draw. It was a natural outcome. Amal, son of Karan, lacked technique but was nearly as large and strong as Ashuk.
Fatun, daughter of Omar, while slightly smaller, had been trained in Kartus by Pashantu from a young age and did not lose out to Amal in terms of skill.
“Postpone the conclusion until later! It’s time to sell our spoils!”
“Hmm… Important indeed.”
“Humans outside Hoarfrost Gorge are sneaky like cowards. We must be careful not to be swindled. Let me see to the exchange again this time.”
“We’ll trust you, Fatun, daughter of Omar.”
The three barbarian, having stuffed their loot of orc testicles, tusks, and hides into a large backpack, started heading towards the port city.
“Foolish brats… You’ve finally caused trouble.”
The sudden voice speaking in their native language made the three barbarian’ eyes widen in shock.
“Who, who goes there!”
Fatun, ever vigilant, pointed her spear in the direction of the voice. But no one was there.
The speaker was above them.
“You, you are?!”
When the unusually perceptive Ashuk glanced up, he recognized a face that was familiar and yet filled him with an intense loathing.
The son of the Great Warrior, the coward, the weakling, the dwarf.
The source of their utmost disdain, the one responsible for forcing them to leave Hoarfrost Gorge without even taking the warrior’s trial.
“Khan, son of Gordi…!”
Grit.
“You! Just the person I wanted to see! Today, I’ll beat you to a pulp─!”
Ashuk gritted his teeth so hard that it was a wonder they didn’t shatter. Grabbing his massive axe, he radiated pure hostility. For some reason, Khan couldn’t suppress a smirk that tugged at his lips. He then shouted loudly.
“Shut your mouths, troublemakers.”
Because my fists are going to sting.