Surviving as a Barbarian in a Fantasy World

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 128: The Isolated Village (2)

The village began to appear as they passed through the forest.

Ketal muttered, “It’s a small village.”

However, it was different from the villages they had seen so far.

The villages Ketal had seen before were all neat and orderly.

The shapes of the houses, the paths within the village, and the roads were all perfect, giving off the feeling of a planned city.

But this place was different.

The houses were built haphazardly, with no proper roads, and the village was cluttered.

Large rocks were embedded here and there, as if they hadn’t been cleared away.

It didn’t end there.

“It doesn’t look like it’s in very good condition.”

The houses made of wood and grass were rotting and seemed about to collapse at any moment.

A village hidden in the forest, on the verge of falling apart.

Ketal smiled faintly.

‘If it’s a fantasy, there should be at least one village like this.’

He felt satisfied but had one question.

“Why is there a village in such a place? It doesn’t seem suitable for living at all.”

It was not good for farming, and it was hard to contact nearby villages.

It had some charm, but it seemed full of inconveniences for living.

“It must be because they can’t live anywhere else.”

Naplas seemed to understand.

“Let’s go and see.”

They walked toward the village.

And as they arrived at the village entrance, as expected, chaos erupted.

“Barbarians!”

“Eeeeek!”

The villagers screamed and hurriedly moved about.

Naplas, as if anticipating this, showed no particular reaction.

Barbarians were fundamentally objects of fear and dread.

To these people, it must have felt like monsters were invading their village.

“Why have you come to our village?”

“Go back!”

The villagers armed themselves and threatened them.

However, what they held were wooden spears and pitchforks, not really threatening.

Their thin arms trembled, possibly from lack of food.

Their ragged, dirty clothes looked pitiful.

“Step back for a moment. Let me handle this.”

“Understood.”

Ketal took a step back.

Naplas stepped forward and spoke politely.

“We came across your village while passing through. We have no intention of causing any trouble.”

Naplas spoke courteously.

“May we stay for a night? We will compensate you for it.”

His polite demeanor and words, along with his attire, left the villagers wide-eyed.

“…A servant of a god?”

They glanced back and forth between Ketal and Naplas.

“…A priest with a barbarian?”

The villagers were bewildered.

Naplas could understand.

It was indeed a strange combination, even to him.

After calming down for a moment, a middle-aged man stepped forward.

“I am the village chief. May I ask which god you serve?”

Naplas replied,

“I am a priest of Kalosia, the god of lies and deception.”

“…Oh.”

The village chief hesitated.

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His face quickly showed signs of rejection, similar to the reaction when he saw the barbarian.

Naplas smiled wryly.

“We have no intention of causing any trouble. I swear in the name of Kalosia.”

“Hmm…”

The village chief’s expression was uncertain.

Just as Naplas was about to step back, sensing the obvious rejection, Ketal stepped forward.

“Please.”

“We don’t intend to cause any trouble.”

His low, yet firm words resonated.

The village chief’s eyes trembled wildly.

“A-alright. Please come in…”

He spoke, trembling.

They were led to an empty house.

Ketal smiled as he spoke,

“They’re good people, accepting outsiders like this.”

“……”

Naplas and Heize remained silent.

The house was extremely shabby.

It was a shack on the verge of collapse.

However, just having a roof over their heads was a relief.

Heize sat on a straw bed and rubbed her legs.

Ketal had been guided to a different house.

“Hmm. No matter how I see it, they seem like good people,”

Naplas muttered.

Naplas muttered,

“He seems to have a very good personality. Heize, are you sure you’re not mistaken? He doesn’t seem like someone with issues.”

During the two weeks of travel, Ketal hadn’t caused any problems.

On the contrary, he had been considerate and attentive to them.

No matter how he thought about it, Ketal didn’t seem like a problematic person as Heize had suggested.

“No,”

Heize denied firmly.

“Naplas, you just don’t know. I don’t think he’s a bad person either.”

Heize had received many favors from Ketal.

She didn’t harbor any hostility towards him.

“But that doesn’t mean he’s as good as you think he is.”

Ketal’s values were different.

They were in a realm that they couldn’t understand.

“I’m not trying to challenge your judgment, but… I just want you to keep that in mind.”

“…Hmm.”

Naplas stroked his chin.

‘He doesn’t seem problematic.’

Heize’s strong words made Naplas reconsider.

‘Am I viewing him too favorably?’

In hindsight, his first impression had been very strong.

Since then, whatever Ketal did, he had seen it favorably.

He decided to view things more objectively.

The next day, the moon set and the sun rose.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,”

Naplas replied quietly.

Ketal smiled.

“That’s good. Rest is important since we have a long journey ahead.”

“…Indeed.”

As they paid their dues and prepared to leave the village, someone arrived.

“Come out!”

“Where’s the village chief?”

A rough voice echoed, clearly filled with hostility and menace.

Three men, dressed in tattered leather armor, were swinging rusty swords threateningly.

“Come out, or do you want to die?”

The village chief rushed out frantically.

“Wh-what’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?”

One of the men twisted his face grotesquely.

“You still haven’t paid this month’s tribute!”

“We… we’re in a dire situation. We don’t even have enough food to survive…”

“Shut up!”

The man roughly cut off the chief’s words.

“That’s your problem! We’re protecting you, aren’t we? You need to pay for that!”

The man glared, and the village chief trembled.

Ketal, who had been watching the scene, muttered,

“They really look like thugs.”

He found it fascinating that such people existed in this world too.

Apparently hearing his voice, the man glared in his direction.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Who dares to talk like that?”

They looked in the direction of the voice and their eyes met Ketal’s.

Ketal smiled and waved.

“Nice to meet you.”

“…Huh?”

The man’s eyes widened.

He seemed to think he was seeing things, shaking his head.

But when he looked again, Ketal was still there.

“…We’ll be back, so be ready next time!”

They stammered and hurriedly left.

“Seems like there’s a problem.”

Ketal smiled.

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

* * *

“What’s going on?”

Ketal asked the village chief.

The chief stammered.

“It’s… it’s our problem. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Still, sometimes talking about it can be relieving.”

Ketal spoke softly.

“Why don’t you tell us? You never know, we might be able to help.”

“Uh…”

The chief’s eyes clouded, and he began to speak hesitantly.

“B-bandits are threatening us.”

“Bandits?”

Ketal’s eyes gleamed.

“There are bandits here?”

“There are quite a few,”

Naplas said calmly.

“The basic guards or mercenaries are mainly tasked with managing the dungeons near the villages.”

In other words, most of the manpower was invested in the dungeons, making it difficult to manage the roads beyond the villages.

Thus, the number of bandits and thieves controlling the paths between villages was not small.

The village chief nodded.

“Yes, that’s correct. There have been bandits around this area for a long time.”

So far, they had not been discovered, but recently the bandits had found the village and started making various demands.

“We want to fight back, but our weapons and condition are too poor… There’s a strong one among them, so we have no choice but to comply.”

The village chief hung his head in despair, his emaciated arms trembling from hunger.

“Can’t you request assistance from nearby villages or territories?”

Ketal’s question was reasonable.

If a village couldn’t handle a problem on its own, it would seek help from the territory.

This was a common practice, as seen when they had gone to Barkan’s territory to deal with demons.

However, the village chief’s face darkened.

“Well…”

“I’ll explain from here,”

Naplas interjected.

“When you first discovered this village, you wondered why a village was in such a place. The reason is simple,”

Naplas said.

“These are refugee outcasts.”

“Refugees?”

Villages near territories had to pay taxes to the territory owner, who set the tax rates.

While the kingdom offered some protection, it was rarely enforced.

Those who couldn’t endure such exploitation and oppression fled to remote, hidden places where they wouldn’t be tracked.

This village was one such place.

“Oh,”

Ketal said, stroking his chin with interest.

“That’s why they can’t seek help.”

“Exactly.”

There was no one to help those who had fled.

Their fate was to either be perpetually exploited by the bandits, return to the oppressive lord they had fled, or resist and risk their lives.

It was not something they should get involved in.

Cases like this were common.

People fleeing their responsibilities and duties, and bandits exploiting such people—Naplas had seen it countless times during their travels.

As Naplas was about to leave, Ketal spoke up energetically.

“How unfortunate!”

The chief, caught off guard by Ketal’s sudden reaction, stammered.

“It’s a shame! Being exploited like this! And by bandits, no less!”

“Wh-what?”

The village chief was taken aback.

Ketal continued, ignoring the chief’s surprise.

“This is fate; it’s a good opportunity. I’ll help you!”

“What?”

Naplas’s eyes widened in surprise.

* * *

The village chief was astonished.

He had never expected Ketal to offer help.

He repeatedly asked if Ketal was serious, and each time Ketal nodded.

The chief, deeply moved, expressed his gratitude over and over.

Naplas approached Ketal.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I apologize for not discussing it beforehand. You can leave if you wish. I’ll resolve this quickly and catch up with you.”

“No, that’s not the issue. I’m asking about your true intentions.”

Naplas stared intently at Ketal.

“Why did you say you’d help them? These people have no right to protection.”

Objectively, Ketal had no reason to help.

The villagers were fugitives who had abandoned their responsibilities and duties.

They were being exploited by others who had similarly forsaken their responsibilities and become bandits.

It was merely a difference in power dynamics.

There was no reason for them to intervene.

This was the common worldview of their world.

Yet, Ketal had offered to help.

“What’s the reason?”

Naplas could somewhat understand Ketal aiding Kalosia’s church due to his friendship with Heize, but the villagers were just a passing acquaintance.

Naplas narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge Ketal’s intentions based on his answer.

In truth, Ketal didn’t have any profound reason.

‘I just wanted to see what the bandits are like in a real fantasy world.’

He was simply curious about where the bandits were based and how they lived.

It wasn’t anything grand.

However, he couldn’t say that, so he searched his memory.

‘What do people usually say in situations like this?’

Ketal recalled a suitable response.

“Does a person need a reason to save another person?”

Naplas’s eyes widened.

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]