Surviving as a Barbarian in a Fantasy World

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Chapter 320: The Ashen Barbarians of the White Snowfield (2)

The Tower Master opened a portal, traveling to the frontlines where the disturbance occurred.

Those resting there widened their eyes upon seeing the two figures.

"Oh, ohhh!"

"Tower Master!"

"Oh! It's Ketal!"

The soldiers, astonished, inch closer with reverence.

Ketal muttered, as if surprised by their reaction.

"Most of them know me."

[There's no fool who wouldn't in times like these.]

Ketal had mobilized the entire continent to block Necronovix's onslaught, and word of his deeds had spread even to remote villages.

"However... this isn't just reverence or awe. There's another kind of light in their eyes."

Fear and dread.

But it wasn't directed at Ketal—it was as if they were reminded of something upon seeing him.

The Tower Master also caught on to this emotion.

[Even I can't quite place it. Perhaps it's a learned fear of barbarians.]

"It seems like more than just that."

Ketal tilted his head as he stepped forward.

They inquired with the soldiers about the whereabouts of the Swordmaster, Arcane, and headed to the largest tent.

Inside, Arcane was lying down, recuperating.

Upon seeing the Tower Master's face, his eyes widened.

"Tower... Tower Master!"

[You can stay lying down.]

"Ah, yes."

Arcane nodded, then his gaze turned to Ketal—and his eyes grew even wider.

"You..."

Reflexively, he reached for a weapon, but when Ketal made no move, he hesitated and stopped.

"...Ketal, is it?"

"Indeed."

"Ah... I see."

Arcane let out a sigh of relief and lay back down.

Ketal tilted his head at the strange reaction.

[May I examine your condition?]

"Yes."

The Tower Master used mana to inspect Arcane's body.

[Not good. Internal injuries... but not caused by magic.]

The damage was purely physical, a twisted state of his organs—something practically unheard of for a hero-class warrior.

This was beyond the Tower Master's ability to heal.

He signaled with his eyes.

[I leave this to you, Holy Sword.]

"Sure, but I have a name—it's Serena, you know?"

Muttering, Serena unleashed her holy power.

Arcane's body was enveloped in golden light, and his internal injuries healed instantly.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Without prayer, wielding divine power like this? That girl is..."

[A marvelous tool of the gods. Is your body better now?]

"Yes."

[Then can you explain what happened?]

Arcane adjusted his posture and began to speak slowly.

"This place is a crossroads where the Eastern Continent exchanges supplies with other lands. Because of that, the demons have been pouring significant resources into breaking through."

Not just named demons, but even higher-ranked ones had appeared.

To stop them, Arcane led soldiers to fortify and defend the area.

"However, as you well know, Tower Master, the continent's current state is dire."

[All thanks to that cursed Necronovix.]

"Indeed. We never know when this place might be in jeopardy. So, I decided it was better to risk it and clear out the demonic foothold. With resolve, we set out—but..."

Arcane swallowed hard.

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"The demonic foothold was already destroyed."

[Destroyed?]

"Yes. The demons were dead."

The Tower Master's eyes gleamed with intrigue.

In this world, killing demons was nearly impossible.

Without overwhelming divine power from hero-class believers, banishment was the best one could achieve.

Yet, Arcane claimed they were dead.

[What did you find there?]

Glancing at Ketal, Arcane answered hesitantly.

"...Ashen barbarians."

At those words, Ketal's face contorted in a flash of unrestrained emotion.

Soldiers resting outside went pale, sensing his wrath, and even Arcane froze in place.

[Hey. Calm down.]

"Ah... my apologies."

Ketal barely managed to collect himself.

It was rare for him to lose control of his emotions so openly, especially outside the battlefield.

And for good reason.

The Tower Master stroked his chin thoughtfully.

[You have an idea of what's going on.]

"Regrettably, yes."

[Ashen barbarians. Are they the ones who made you who you are?]

When the Tower Master asked, Arcane nodded.

"At first, I thought they were on our side. Northern barbarians cooperate with the other continents, and above all... there's Ketal, a barbarian. But I was wrong."

The ashen barbarians attacked Arcane, trying to kill him.

"There were three of them. However, the other two didn't interfere—only one attacked me."

Swallowing hard, Arcane continued.

"...Luckily, when I tried to escape, they didn’t pursue me. One of them stopped the other, saying it wasn’t justified self-defense."

Ketal's expression twisted further at those words, and he clicked his tongue, muttering softly.

"They've emerged."

* * *

After hearing the situation, they moved to the demonic foothold.

As Arcane had described, it was utterly destroyed.

Serena, examining the ruins curiously, remarked,

"This destruction feels... familiar. It reminds me of what happens in your battles."

"Naturally."

Ketal clicked his tongue, clearly in a foul mood.

Serena fell silent.

Finally, they encountered the culprits.

[Ashen barbarians, I see.]

Three of them lounged in the ruins, yawning.

Seeing their faces, Ketal’s expression contorted even more.

The Tower Master noted his reaction and spoke.

[You know them, don’t you?]

"...Unfortunately, yes."

It didn’t require an answer.

The ashen barbarians looked almost identical to Ketal, as if they were kin.

[Should we step back?]

"Please do."

"Be careful!"

The Tower Master and Serena withdrew.

Ketal sighed deeply as he approached.

"Who's next this time?"

The ashen barbarians turned, annoyed at first, but their faces stiffened upon seeing Ketal.

"...Huh? What?"

"Wait, is that—?"

"Thomas. Greta. Anna. What are you doing here?"

[Quest #790 completed.]

Ketal spoke with an exasperated look.

The barbarians stuttered briefly, then broke into joyous smiles.

"Ohhh!"

"Our king!"

"The king is here!"

They ran toward him, faces filled with emotion, like a long-separated family reuniting at last.

But their actions betrayed their expressions.

The charging barbarians swiftly drew their axes.

"Die!"

"This time for sure!"

Their killing intent was so palpable that the onlooking Tower Master and Serena recoiled in shock.

But Ketal, as if accustomed to it, moved his hand with a bored expression.

He grabbed the wrist wielding the downward-swinging axe and snapped it.

Then, he struck the barbarian’s chest.

The barbarian’s chest caved in, and blood spurted from his mouth.

Effortlessly evading the attacks of the remaining two, Ketal twisted their necks.

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With a sickening crack, the two collapsed lifelessly.

"Huh? Huh?"

[Wait, what?]

The two observers were aghast.

Ketal had actually killed the attacking barbarians.

But upon closer inspection, they realized that wasn’t the case.

Crack, crunch.

The barbarian's crushed chest began to rise again.

His twisted neck creaked back into its original shape.

[…Regeneration?]

No, it wasn’t that.

It went beyond mere regeneration—it was closer to reversal.

The revived barbarians sparkled their eyes as they approached Ketal.

"We’ve trained hard, yet you beat us so easily! Truly, you’re our king!"

"Aah! Chief! We missed you so much!"

"Quiet."

Ketal responded with annoyance.

It was no wonder.

They were none other than the tribesmen he once led in the White Snowfield.

"Why are you here now? Greta, explain yourself."

Ketal turned to a fierce-looking barbarian, Greta.

Greta answered boldly.

"We came to find you, my king!"

"I mean, why did you come? Did you finish the task I gave you?"

"Yes! We completed it!"

Greta replied confidently.

"We dealt with one of the three elders!"

"What?"

Ketal’s eyes widened at the response.

"You actually did it?"

When Ketal left the tribe, his followers insisted on accompanying him.

No matter how much he beat or broke them, they wouldn’t listen.

Frustrated, Ketal gave them one order:

Don’t follow me.

If they insisted on following him, they were first to complete a mission—kill one of the three elders.

It was essentially a command meant to dissuade them.

The elders were incredibly powerful, foes even Ketal struggled against.

And now they claimed to have killed one?

Ketal looked suspiciously at Greta, then shifted his gaze to a scholarly-looking barbarian, Thomas.

"Is it true?"

"Y-Yes!"

Thomas replied immediately.

Ketal stared at him quietly.

Thomas's eyes darted nervously.

Ketal smirked.

"You still can’t lie worth a damn. Tell the truth."

"…Actually, we only managed half of it."

Greta admitted, her voice shrinking.

"B-But we almost succeeded! We drove him to the brink of death!"

"So, you didn’t kill him."

"Well… yes."

"And yet, you came here."

"…I’m sorry! We just missed you so much!"

The barbarians bowed deeply in apology.

Ketal sighed.

"Fine. It’s not unexpected."

He’d anticipated that they’d stubbornly follow him, even if they failed the mission.

Seeing them in person, though, gave him a headache.

"You’re here now, so there’s no helping it. Follow me for now."

"Yes!"

"Ohhh! Our king is so merciful!"

Cheering loudly, the barbarians followed Ketal as he led them to the waiting Tower Master and Serena.

"Let me introduce them. These are my former tribesmen from the White Snowfield: Greta, Thomas, and Anna. And this here is Serena, who’s traveling with me."

"Nice to meet you?"

Serena stammered, trembling as she tried to hide behind Ketal.

The barbarians showed little interest in her.

"Our king always loved taking care of little ones. It’s no surprise he’s doing the same here! As expected of him!"

"Shut up. And this is the Tower Master. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t be hostile toward him—he’s an ally."

[…Greetings, gray barbarians of the White Snowfield.]

The barbarians remained indifferent to Serena but not to the Tower Master.

Thomas scowled.

"A skeleton? One even out here?"

Thomas drew his axe, gripping it tightly as he swung at the Tower Master.

The Tower Master quickly chanted a defensive spell.

Bang!

A violent impact shattered the magical barrier.

[Wait!]

The Tower Master tried to intervene, but Thomas wouldn’t stop, fully intent on killing him.

It was then that Ketal spoke, his voice low.

"Thomas."

The air grew heavy.

The barbarians froze.

"I told you to stand down, didn’t I?"

"Oh, uh, sorry."

Thomas laughed awkwardly and lowered his axe immediately.

The barbarian, who had been on the verge of killing, withdrew at Ketal’s single command. Ketal offered an apology.

"Sorry about that, Tower Master. These guys don’t listen well. There’s someone inside who looks similar to you, which probably explains the hostility."

[…No matter.]

The Tower Master was less concerned about Thomas’s actions and more stunned by Ketal’s demeanor.

The commanding aura Ketal had exuded just now was unlike anything he had shown before.

With a single word of authority, Ketal had quelled a raging barbarian.

The Tower Master muttered in amazement.

[…So it’s true.]

Ketal was indeed the king of the gray barbarians of the White Snowfield.

He had known that fact but never truly grasped its weight.

After all, until now, Ketal had been the only barbarian outside the Snowfield.

But now, three hero-class barbarians stood here, unwaveringly loyal to Ketal.

They would likely drive axes into their chests without hesitation at his command.

The Tower Master finally understood what it meant to be the king of the White Snowfield’s gray barbarians.

And he realized one more thing.

‘…Even those inside don’t fully obey Ketal.’

A disaster had come to the outside world—a true catastrophe.

The Tower Master groaned.

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