Barbarian in a Failed Game

An almost surreal silence enveloped the room. Even the ministers, not shy to give frank advice, the emperor’s personal guards ready to die for him, the ten Bannerlords who serve as the Imperial standard, the Battle Mages known as undefeated specters of war, and Deon, the trusted chief court minister to the emperor—all were unsure how to react to the barbarian’s defiant declaration, ‘I will not kneel’.

Surprisingly, Sir Conrad was the only one smirking, barely suppressing his laughter. The emperor, noticing Conrad’s reaction, turned and nodded subtly to Deon, who then reprimanded with a booming voice belying his small stature.

“The Emperor, recognized by the six Electoral Lords and mandated by the heavens, is not just a ruler of the Empire but the rightful guardian of Midland. You must present the appropriate respect before the protector of the mortal realm.”

Deon, with his pale complexion, lean frame, and tired eyes, was more than a feeble middle-aged man confined to a desk.

“Self-respect is important for a great warrior, but is it truly as crucial as one’s life?”

His authority, befitting the confidant of the ruler of the most dominant nation on the continent, proved he was more than a man who had never swung a sword.

The pressure on the barbarian from Deon’s repeated admonitions would have been unimaginable, let alone from the ten stoic knights standing like a wall between the emperor and the barbarian.

Their fierce aura, ready for combat at the utterance of the contemptuous phrase ‘I will not kneel’, seemed to weigh down the very air.

“Hmm…”

Even Conrad, who managed to restrain his amusement and watched the scene with interest, had yet to intervene. Everyone, except the inscrutable emperor, believed that even the proud elves of Paradise would kneel in such a setting.

As every eye focused on the barbarian’s next move, he slowly inhaled and spoke.

“A warrior from Hoarfrost Gorge does not fear death─!”

It was a refusal, just like the first time.

‘Foolish.’

Deon’s tired eyes contorted in annoyance. Was it indeed so difficult to kneel even once, especially before the emperor of the Empire? This matter transcended a warrior’s pride. Showing deference to the ruler of the continent’s prevailing nation was a matter of course.

The emperor of the Empire is a being worthy of such respect. Though he had heard of the barbarian’s formidable prowess beforehand, before the emperor, he was nothing more than an orc before an ogre.

“If you truly meant what you said, then there should be no objection to being punished here for your insolence, correct?”

Deon murmured quietly. The Bannerlords and the Battle Mages reacted instantly, ready to force the impudent barbarian to kneel themselves.

SLAM—!

“Threats from the mouth alone are something even a dog could manage!”

The barbarian stomped fiercely on the gold-embroidered carpet. In an instant, fiery sparks seemed to flash in the eyes of the Bannerlords and Battle Mages.

To display one’s strength before the emperor was tantamount to insulting the Empire itself. It was a grave offense punishable by immediate execution, regardless of one’s status.

However, the emperor was the master of this space. Hence, the Bannerlords and Battle Mages exercised extreme patience.

“This is becoming a meaningless shouting match.”

Perhaps acknowledging their remarkable restraint, Sir Conrad, having fully lost his earlier amusement, turned to face the emperor’s dais.

“Your Majesty, please give the order to behead this barbarian at once.”

Several ministers gasped at his words. With the continent’s transcenders imprisoned in the Cradle of the Void by their contract with the emperor, the one closest to the rank of the continent’s mightiest had declared he would personally take action.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Are you referring to this old body of mine? Or our brave friend over there?” replied Conrad, adopting the familiar tone he used in private conversations with the emperor, his smile slowly reappearing.

“The worth of kneeling seems to weigh heavier than the head on his shoulders. I intend to find out if that’s true. He may die if he’s unlucky. Either way, he can prove his words.”

If he lives, it demonstrates that he’s worthy of his arrogance by defending his head before the Empire’s greatest knight. If he dies, it proves that he valued his pride above his life. Either outcome forces him to prove himself.

The emperor nodded in acknowledgment of Conrad’s brazen decision.

“Then, I shall briefly disrupt the court.”

His tone was far from that of a typical loyal subject, more like that of a carefree wanderer.

Step. Step. Step.

Conrad’s aura was equally unburdened as he descended the dais. He wore no armor and did not seem to have any intention of drawing his sword, approaching with bare hands.

With his unremarkable demeanor and appearance, one could hardly consider him a knight.

Slide.

Yet, no one doubted him. The Bannerlords and the Battle Mages, secure in their unparalleled might, bowed and made way, acknowledging his supremacy.

Conrad stopped a few meters away, standing at the same level as the barbarian. Despite the distance, no one felt that the gap between them was wide.

“What do you think? Would you still like to apologize to His Majesty for your rudeness and show proper respect?”

Conrad asked, shrugging his shoulders. Neither he nor anyone else expected the barbarian to back down, and the expected response followed.

“Imperial people have long tongues. I wouldn’t call them warriors.”

“Then, shall we end our conversation here?”

Conrad remarked with a faint smile, and at that moment, a blue sun rose.

Fwoosh!

The blue sun overshadowed all the light in the chamber, but no matter how one stared at it, it didn’t blind them. This was not real light but a manifestation of Conrad’s immensely condensed aura, glowing like a sun.

“I’ll still give you one last chance to change your mind.”

Conrad’s figure was obscured by the blue sun; only his voice emanated from within. Then the aura, which had radiated outward like a globe, began to condense further.

The strength, already surpassing high-level magic, condensed again. This power could obliterate the entire palace with a simple gesture. Conrad, standing like a human-shaped blue sun, resembled a sun God.

“I will count to five.”

The human form of Conrad, made of blue light, opened his palm.

“If you kneel before I count all my fingers, I will not attack you. Starting now.”

“One.”

One finger folded down.

In his other hand, a small sphere of aura formed. Anyone sensitive to mana felt a chilling fear when they saw it.

“Two.”

The sphere of aura began to take the shape of a sword.

Conrad, crafting a magic sword from thin air, held it slowly. Just swinging it could unleash destruction comparable to the spells cast by the masters of the Mage Tower.

“Three.”

The hand holding the sword pointed it towards the sky.

The mere act of raising the sword seemed to absorb all light in the world. In actuality, new currents of aura swirled around the sword, focusing on it.

“Four.”

The aura used to condense the sword and the aura enveloping it clashed, creating unimaginable pressure. Yet this pressure didn’t extend beyond a one or two-meter radius of Conrad. This was a testament to his perfect control over his power.

It also proved that the precisely harnessed power could be directed entirely towards a single target. As Conrad slowly folded his last remaining finger, he murmured, “Five.”

However, before his finger had completely clenched, the final word “five” echoed out, surprisingly not from Conrad, but from the barbarian’s lips.

Clang!

Like cannon fire, the barbarian’s form propelled forward, stamping his foot down as if piercing the ground with his toe. It was an unexpected move—instead of recoiling from the opportunity to recant, he charged forward!

Conrad, momentarily flustered, forgot to finish folding his fingers and instead brought his raised arm down slowly.

Rumble…

A catastrophic force crushed down on the one beneath it. Not even a proper sword strike, but merely the byproduct of the slashing motion was enough to debilitate a superhuman. Sir Conrad, the half-dragon knight, was such a monster.

Even if one was a Bannerlord, alone they would hardly be able to take a step forward under such pressure.

Bang!

Unable to withstand the pressure while leaping, the barbarian’s foot slammed into the ground. Conrad was certain that the barbarian would never walk again. Yet, the barbarian pushed off with the opposite foot, leaping once more.

‘A true monster.’

A warrior who had slaughtered demons and dragons. Conrad genuinely admired him and quickened the descent of his arm.

Even if the barbarian’s movements were too fast for the eye, in the realm of superhumans—especially for someone a notch above like Conrad—such speed was not extraordinary.

‘It was surprising, but that’s it.’

Though it seemed a slow sword strike to him, it would appear as a flash of lightning to his opponent. However, he’d adjusted it to be just perceptible enough for evasion. An intentional moderation to test the barbarian’s true intent.

‘Now, what’s your real play?’

‘Do you actually think you can kill me here?’ Even harboring such a thought, facing a near-sincere strike from a contender for the strongest on the continent could make anyone hesitate.

If the opponent was a superhuman, even more so. They would instinctively feel the power wielded by the sword. That’s why he moderated his speed. To force a rapid decision and action in a critical moment.

Even the slightest hesitation would give Conrad the opening he needed to annihilate the barbarian in front of him. If the barbarian truly intended to uphold his beliefs in front of the emperor, he would have to rush towards death without a moment’s hesitation.

But that’s an immensely difficult task.

No, it’s impossible.

That’s when Conrad was certain of the barbarian’s failure and death.

“What…?!”

Just as the barbarian’s form was already moving at a considerable speed, it accelerated even further. Conrad’s transcendent senses felt a gust pushing the barbarian from behind.

Conrad was astonished.

‘Did that insane barbarian just dodge my sword and then increase his speed to charge at me?’

Such an act was tantamount to hastening his own demise. Even if Conrad didn’t initially intend to kill him, closing the distance would inadvertently force his hand. Yet, the barbarian had done just that.

The aura-forged sword stopped precisely before the barbarian’s forehead. And the barbarian’s fist halted right before Conrad’s chin.

“Ha ha…!”

In that moment, Conrad felt a form of respect. Of course, the barbarian’s fist was no threat to Conrad. If he hadn’t stopped, the recoil alone would have destroyed the barbarian’s body.

‘He couldn’t have known that…’

The only remaining explanation was clear.

‘He noticed that I stopped my attack, so he reciprocated.’

No sane person could do that. Not even Conrad himself, if roles were reversed, would have succeeded. But the man who had done it stood before him, and it was undeniable.

“I acknowledge you. You are a warrior.”

It was an achievement so grand it would make one think the barbarian could see into Conrad’s mind, understanding his lack of lethal intent. To the one who achieved such a feat, Conrad subtly bowed his head—a gesture permitted only before the emperor—showing his respect.

He then slowly turned and looked at the emperor. The emperor, recognizing the meaning in Conrad’s gaze, straightened his arm from resting on his chin and spoke.

“The warrior from the far north has proven himself. You need not show formal respect. Be at ease.”

Though his words praised the barbarian’s remarkable bravery and granted him a reward, the emperor’s eyes darkened with contemplation.

No matter how he thought about it, it was difficult to equate such a valiant and upright warrior, an epitome of a true warrior, with the shadowy figure who orchestrated events capable of shaking the entire Empire without being detected by the imperial watch.

‘Then who could it possibly be?’

TL’s Corner:
The showdown was intense.