Barbarian in a Failed Game

002. Barbarians of the North (2)

Known in the icy ravines as the Son of Gordi, or Gordi Khan by the ways of the continental humans, that was the giant’s name.

Indeed, there were quite a few names used to refer to him, but he didn’t particularly like any of them. Executioner, Human Troll, among other ominous titles, were all he had.

‘Well, I doubt there are many here who would recognize me anyway.’

Khan stretched out his stiff body as he casually tossed aside a corpse with a broken neck.

Meanwhile, he meticulously examined the cannibalistic psycho who was deeply immersed in playing the part of a barbarian. His skin was smeared with a murky gray, mimicking the ashen skin of the people from the icy ravines, alongside the battle tattoos famous among the Greenskin warriors. It was obvious he had haphazardly imitated the features of barbarian, probably sufficient due to the rarity of actual barbarian sightings.

‘Could it be… everyone was fooled?’

Even as she was abandoned by the caravan guards, the female mage who smiled gleefully seemed to have seen through the facade from the beginning.

“Thinking you could impersonate a northern warrior so poorly. How audacious!”

Just then, the fake barbarian boldly proclaimed his ambition. Khan, puzzled by the sudden proclamation, soon accepted the notion that this man had struck the first blow.

Knowing that taking the initiative and having a loud voice were crucial in politics, this guy seemed smarter than he looked.

“What are you doing! Not slaughtering this impostor─!”

Whether convinced by his boldness or not, the thieves hesitantly closed in.

Khan smirked, thinking how foolish they were.

Their technique, taking advantage of the open terrain, seemed quite threatening.

With the carriage behind and spears thrusting from the front and sides, it was impossible to defend against, by continental standards.

Khan’s handaxe drew a horizontal streak of light.

Zing!

Infused with mighty strength, the handaxe snapped the spear shafts and even pulled out the hands holding them. Screams erupted.

At this, a warrior who retained the primal wildness of ancient times burst into laughter.

“Kahahahaha─!”

“Th-that…!”

The barbarian warrior’s laughter seemed to pound on their hearts. The face of the fake barbarian, who was watching from behind, stiffened. Something was dreadfully wrong!

But by the time he realized, it was too late.

Like a wolf from the icy ravines brutally slaughtering a herd of terrified sheep, the scene unfolded in an instant. His gray eyes glimmered with murderous intent.

‘What is he?’

Becoming an impersonator of a barbarian was a trivial decision for him.

He had indulged in his unique hobby of cannibalism freely, receiving reactions like, ‘Well, he’s a barbarian. That can be expected.’

So, he crudely applied the Greenskin tattoos and roamed the western kingdoms robbing caravans.

He had also realized halfway through that imitating a barbarian was surprisingly effective in intimidating opponents.

Today was supposed to be the same. He planned to terrify a seemingly vulnerable caravan, snatch the women and money he wanted. But he never expected to encounter a real barbarian!

“Le-leader…!”

“Have mercy-!”

How could human bodies be so fragile? Why did they break and get chopped up so easily! The scene unfolding before his eyes felt like a dream, his head went fuzzy.

But one thing was crystal clear. Stand still, and you die.

“Hold on. Wait! Let’s talk!”

Did his desperate appeal work? The barbarian’s massacre ground to a halt, the axe freezing just in front of a thief’s nose, causing him to collapse with an embarrassing squeal.

“You want to talk?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

‘How can someone’s face be so terrifying!’

In truth, he had contributed to the barbarian’s fearsome reputation, assuming half of the rumors were exaggerated. But now, seeing him up close, it seemed all too real.

‘With that face, it’s no surprise…!’

“I apologize for not recognizing the real you! I have long admired the valiant warriors of the north and strived to emulate them, and now that I’ve met one in person, I’m thrilled! Shall we converse in the northern way?”Of course, it was all nonsense. They were just spitballing ideas, but once voiced, they seemed fairly plausible.

Contrary to the rumors that all barbarian are ignoramuses incapable of conversation, this barbarian was impressively fluent in the kingdom’s language. If they could speak the same language, then there seemed to be room for negotiation!

“Northern ways, you say… Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

“Of course!”

The immediate nod was met with an approving nod from Khan. It seemed to strike a chord with him, as a murmuring voice faintly suggested, “Conversation is good.”

“Lay down your weapons. We warriors shall have an honest discussion.”

Upon their leader’s command, the bandits quickly disarmed.

It wasn’t so much respect for the command, as fear of the monster who could lift a man with one hand and snap his neck.

The disguised barbarian, while inwardly understanding the situation, grimaced. We’ll see when I get back, you little brats. With that, he slowly approached the barbarian.

“My name is Jacob. And you are?”

“Khan, son of Gordi.”

“Yes, Khan, son of Gordi. I failed to recognize the Northern warrior I’ve long admired and made a mistake. As a token of my apology, I will give you ten women and a sack of gold.”

It was a roundabout way of saying, “I’m offering you this much for my life. Can you spare me?”

Since Khan showed no particular reaction, Jacob, the fake barbarian, secretly bit his lip.

‘Is he asking for more?’

“Fine! Very well! A Northern warrior indeed has a generous spirit! I’ll even add my prized tiger skin to your gift…”

“Why is this bastard so talkative.”

Huh? Caught off guard by the sudden crass remark, Jacob stared blankly at Khan.

Had he heard wrong? But then in an instant, realizing his error, the axe blade gleamed threateningly close.

“Wai…!”

Crunch!

Jacob’s body, now just a stand for the hand axe, collapsed limply.

And then silence fell…

For a leader of a band of bandits that had terrorized the region, it was an extremely ignominious death, leaving his followers at a loss, muttering in confusion.

Khan, nonchalantly, extracted the hand axe from Jacob’s head.

Jacob’s wide-open eyes seemed to ask ‘why?’ which only made Khan snort in derision.

“We’ll do it our way.”

Fist and knife, hand axe. The barbarian’ favorite means of communication.

***

***

***

The traders who had abandoned their guests and fled tentatively returned, eyeing the situation carefully.

The reason being, they coveted the bandits’ equipment and the wealth hidden in their hideout.

It was a situation that called for a rebuke of their lack of shame, but Khan didn’t bother.

Seeking conscience in this world was foolish to begin with. They were all the same: traders, mercenaries, bandits, criminals.

“Gather all the equipment and assets, and handle the disposal. I’ll give you thirty percent of the proceeds.”

“Thank you, my lord!”

The lead trader, hitherto sallow-faced, bowed deeply.

The prospect of handling the transportation and miscellaneous arrangements, on top of receiving unexpected revenue, brightened his demeanor.

Meanwhile, the escort mercenaries chased down fleeing bandits to kill them, and interrogated those they captured for the location of their treasures.

Khan, thinking they would handle it, was about to board the carriage.

After all, wasn’t sparing these cowards and hiring them meant to avoid such troublesome chores?

“A barbarian warrior single-handedly overpowering a dozen men, and from the East no less… I do have someone in mind, but could I be mistaken?”

A female mage’s murmur caught his attention.

As he thought before, an unnecessarily curious woman. Yes, unnecessarily…

“Well, I’m not too sure.””Is it because of the old fox of the frontier chasing you? If that’s the case, don’t worry. I’m just…”

“Sometimes, it’s best to leave a mistake as a mistake.”

Right after his sharp retort, Khan reclaimed his corner of the carriage and closed his eyes.

Despite his apparent disregard, the sounds of a mother and child struggling to come to terms with the reality that the hunchback they had underestimated was a ferocious barbarian were audible, but he found it too bothersome to react.

What he desired more was a wash.

‘I’d rather soak in a hot tub. And if possible, with a cold beer and some chicken…’

Thud-thud-

It seemed warnings had been sternly given that Khan should not be discomforted, for the carriage, now deviating from its original path towards the hideout of bandits, noticeably shook less.

The one posing as a brute turned out to be unexpectedly wealthy, owning assets that could rival a decent-sized estate, much to Khan’s satisfaction.

“If I catch you sneaking anything, I’ll rip off your arm.”

Dare to touch my belongings. With a axe in hand, Khan watched over the merchants loading goods with a stern look.

“I heard you like money, alcohol, and ancient artifacts related to the old gods. Seems it’s true seeing how bright your face has gotten.”

“Who wouldn’t like those?”

“Well, the first two maybe, but perhaps not so much the last?”

“The nobles like them. They say it’s a sophisticated hobby.”

“That could be. Vanity is what drives the humans, after all.”

Through their brief exchange, Khan could roughly guess the man’s status.

Someone who had a general understanding of noble habits but was not a noble himself. And a mage… There weren’t many candidates that fit the profile, possibly a mage from a tower.

However, what concerned him more than her status was her intent.

“Hey! If my goods are even slightly damaged, expect the same in return!”

“Yes, yes!”

Khan snapped at a merchant worker stumbling with a chest full of silver coins, not out of concern for the coins but as a pretext to buy time for thought.

‘What exactly is her ulterior motive for sticking around?’

Having caused quite the stir before fleeing the eastern parts of the kingdom, he had many reasons to feel uneasy.

Despite boarding the cart disguised as a hunchback and meeting this counterfeit person, the last thing he expected was to get entangled with a mage knowledgeable enough to recognize him.

Of course, as a man, having a beautiful woman show interest was not something to refuse. In the past, he might have even considered planning a family.

But not now.

There was an old saying to be wary of children, the elderly, young women, and mages, as well as devil worshipers. In that regard, this young female mage was…

“Two strikes.”

“Excuse me? Two strikes?”

“It’s a saying from the north. So, do you have business with me? You seem quite persistent.”

“Just curious. A barbarian who knows how to read. You’re as much of an anomaly as a non-cranky mage.”

After all, not all mages were antisocial lunatics.

Similarly, the idea of a barbarian being literate was, strictly speaking, preposterous. The folks from the northern frostbites couldn’t even be courteously described as intelligent.

They were brutish to the point of rivaling the greenskins in barbarity.

Her curiosity was perhaps understandable. Anyone with a slight knowledge about barbarian would think the same.

‘Well. It can’t be helped.’

The reason it couldn’t be helped… he wasn’t actually a barbarian. Or to be precise, while his physique belonged to a barbarian, his consciousness did not.

Born beyond the frostbites of the north, mistaken for either a person or an orc sibling, living among beings indistinguishable from humans or orcs, in search of new battles, he crossed the frostbites – the barbarian, Gordi Khan.

Inhabiting the body of such a character was a corpulent office worker in his thirties. That was the present Khan.

‘Tsk. Still regret it.’

As old memories suddenly emerged, his expression involuntarily soured.

Even after so much time had passed since he fell into this damned fantasy world, Khan often wondered. What if he had made a different choice that day?

That day…

The day he became entwined with this world.

Had he not launched the game.

Where would I be now?