Barbarian in a Failed Game

Chapter 036: Draupnir (5)

“We must escape by any means necessary! Idling around here and running into Sir Khan and Count Emil would be far worse.”

“What are you blabbering about? There are more than thirty bodies piled up here; what escape are you talking about? I don’t know who this Khan guy is, but….”

“It’s better if you don’t know. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. That’s my sincere advice for your own good.”

The dwarf truly wondered if this human had lost his mind. Why else would he not understand?

Not knowing anything substantial, yet crawling through the Shivering Woods, only to suggest escape before this so-called strange man arrives. The reasoning was beyond comprehension.

“Given Sir Khan’s temperament, he won’t stand idle knowing one is a noble…. No, he’d rather break their necks. The man is obsessed with fighting, after all.”

“Is this Khan fellow not human, then? Perhaps a Greenskin warrior or something? What kind of nonsense is that?”

“Something like that. Think of something even more dreadful. Anyway, staying here will lead to….”

Oh no. Just as Ron detailed the horrifying nature of ‘Khan’, he slapped his forehead.

The dwarf, initially knitting his eyebrows at Ron’s gesture, turned his head to look beyond the fence, in the direction from which Ron and his group had come.

“Darn! We’ve been followed!”

“I thought we had completely shaken them off! This must not have been tracking but….”

“Watch out──!”

As Maya raised her voice, three mercenaries and a dwarf artisan ducked low, almost kissing the ground.

Bang!

A wave of intense heat swept over them. Luckily, it wasn’t a direct hit, and it seemed to have only scorched the fence, but it was hardly a stroke of luck.

“Hefeldt. So, that scoundrel has commanded some rabble again. Just three mercenaries? This is utterly disappointing.”

The voice, deep and powerful, conveyed an undeniable strength. Everyone immediately thought of one name. Count Emil.

“Lift your heads. I made sure to control it so you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Damn it. Wasn’t that gentleman a knight? Why the hell is he casting magic like a madman…!”

“There’s a mage right there, you imbecile!”

Despite their bickering, Ron and the dwarf were the first to get up.

Then, Diego, looking rather pale, glanced at Maya before slowly retreating.

“So, we meet at last, Dwarf.”

“Ptu! I had no desire to see you!”

Despite the dwarf spitting directly in his face, Count Emil hardly reacted. He stood solid as a rock.

That was the collective thought of those who faced him.

His armor, engraved with various runes, and an unsheathed sword that looked exceptionally magnificent even at a glance.

Count Emil, draped in a surcoat with the family crest, epitomized the ideal of knighthood.

“Hmm. I had hoped for at least the Count’s most trusted, Feneth, to fall into this trap, but this makes for a poor exchange.”

“You speak the truth!”

“My friend died by his hand. Please, allow me the honor of killing him the next time we cross paths!”

The soldiers, lined up behind him, showed no sign of disarray, keenly ready for any impending battle.

“While this Dwarf is under our control, all will be possible. Even transforming this barren city, known only for its monster-infested mountain ranges, into a prosperous land, thanks to the craftsmanship of the Broken Anvil Workshop.”

“Craftsmanship my foot! I won’t make anything for you, even if you capture me! Once the agreed time is up, I’m leaving this cursed continent for good!”

“Well, that is not for me to worry about. Once we have the dwarf, we’ll work something out. Dwarf.”

Count Emil said, directing his gaze towards a figure standing by his side.

Wrapped in a bulky robe, holding a staff embedded with spells. The quintessential mage look.

Ron knew right then, it had to be this mage who used magic to track them down.

“Next time, it will hit directly. Well, you might be lucky enough to dodge the spell, but luck doesn’t last forever. Being burnt to death is all the same.”

“I, I was just dragged here against my will! Just a porter!”

Diego, now seemingly facing execution by fire, protested in vain.

For Count Emil and his soldiers, who had long fought Wagner’s mercenaries, there was more than enough motivation to tear Diego apart.

“Stop with the foolish talk and get inside! There are items within the barrier we can use.”

It was the moment the dwarf shouted out in anger. The mage’s staff sparked with a red light, releasing a fireball the size of a human head into the air. The fireball, hurled at a speed faster than anticipated, approached them, but the group, following the dwarf’s lead, moved deeper inside before it could reach them. Though it felt like they were trapping themselves while being surrounded, there was no other way to survive, as breaking through the front seemed impossible.

Boom! The fireball hit the empty ground, erupting into a tall pillar of flame before dispersing. The robed mage didn’t stop there; he muttered something under his breath, preparing a new spell.

“Tighten the noose.”

Following that command, Count Emil’s armed soldiers, wielding crossbows and spears, began to close the distance on their encircled prey, spreading out as they moved further into the depths of the abandoned mine.

“There should be a crudely made ballista on the ground over there! Use it to fire back!”

Inside the mine, Ron and his party widened their eyes in surprise. They were greeted by two hastily made ballistae and a sturdy barricade woven from dense wood. How long had they been hiding in this mine to prepare such defenses? Surely, it wasn’t just a matter of having the time. It was a feat that could only be accomplished by dwarves, the craftsmen who could create anything given the right materials.

“Hey! Damn tin can! Stop loitering and come help! They’re here!”

Their unexpected reinforcement came in the form of a knight with a dented helmet, seemingly just finished adjusting his armor, moving its joints as he stepped forward. The Count of Hefeldt’s manorial knight found his duty without needing further explanation upon overhearing the conversation from within, making his way through the gaps of the wooden barricade woven by the dwarf.

“This might just work…”

“Quit talking nonsense. Grab the ballista. We’re only biding time as it is.”

Maya sharply warned, grasping her spear. The enemy consisted of at least three to four dozen elite soldiers, including a mage and a former royal guard. Their side? A lone dwarf, a knight whose morale seemed dampened by injury, a fairly skilled swordsman for a mercenary, an experienced veteran mercenary, and herself. Even a brief tally revealed their severe disadvantage.

The presence of the mage was the most despair-inducing aspect. How long the wooden barricade could hold against the mage’s red magic was uncertain.

“Burn them!”

The mage’s another display of red magic sent five fire arrows towards the barricade and the knight peeking out from behind it. The arrows, made of flames, lodged into the barricade, scattering embers. Just that was enough to make their faces flush and sweat drip down.

Whoosh! Two of the fire arrows were extinguished by the knight’s swift movement and the blue aura emanating from his swing, but that momentary action slowed him, unable to completely fend off the heat seeping inside his armor.

“Fire! Keep firing the crossbows until they’re all spent!”

A man wearing a helmet decorated with a flag, seemingly the captain of the soldiers, raised his voice.

Shh-shshshsh! Thud, thud, thud! More than a dozen crossbow bolts lodged into the barricade. Despite the dwarf’s hasty construction holding up somewhat, it wouldn’t last long with holes gaping open everywhere.

“…If the barricade falls, aim at the mage and Count Emil at the same time with the ballista. Then take that chance to escape with the dwarf.”

The manorial knight’s suggestion was a decision likely reached from their dire situation. Lacking manpower and sufficient equipment, the priority seemed to focus on at least saving the dwarf.

Maya bit her lip in frustration. ‘Fuck, does it really look like we can escape from here?’

“Escape? More like, jump in there and die?”

Diego, holding back his grievances out of respect for the knight’s resolve, finally shouted in desperation. It was a bold move he wouldn’t normally dare to take. The issue was, amid their conversation, the barricade started to break apart. And then— Boom! Another fireball shot through, striking precisely at the already precarious barricade.

“Fire! Right─now─!”

There was no more time for leisurely persuasion.

The knight of the manor bellowed till his throat bled, igniting his aura and charging out.

Thunk! Thunk!

The projectiles launched from the ballista, hastily crafted by the dwarf, weren’t arrows but items nearly akin to spears.

The private soldiers, who couldn’t have even imagined a ballista inside the closed mine, hesitated in their response, and in the blink of an eye, they charged towards Emil, the Count on horseback, and the mage standing below him.

“Ha!”

Crrrack!

“Damn. Impossible…!”

Diego’s astonishment followed immediately.

Count Emil, snorting in contempt, had sliced the ballista in two with his sword. Was it even possible? To precisely split a spear shot from a ballista?

‘So this is a royal knight. An actual monster!’

Haunted by shock, Diego hastily glanced over his party. Urging an onslaught was a regrettable mistake once he noticed Ron and Maya’s distressed expressions.

To die here, pathetically? At the hands of that barbaric brute?

“Damn. We’re really screwed now.”

Even Ron, employed as the guide, seemed to share the sentiment, murmuring words of defeat to himself.

However, Diego was mistaken in his guess.

The meaning behind Ron’s words was the flash of hope that maybe, just maybe, they might survive if they just stayed put.

In a situation that anyone would reckon as a certain death.

It could be one of three things:

Either his intuition was wrong for once, or a way out of this situation had presented itself, or else…

“Get lost! You can hardly handle your aura, you novice!”

“Cough!”

‘Damn. We’re done for.’

Seeing the manor knight knocked down in a single blow had Ron squinting his eyes shut.

Now certain of something impossible that might solve their dilemma.

“Just stay back. No need to charge in and get caught up in this.”

“Caught up in? In what exactly…?”

“That.”

They were meant to avoid tangling with a real monster. Just after Ron bafflingly uttered these words.

Thud…

The sound of something solid colliding echoed like a death knell, small yet drowning out the noise of the battlefield.

Then there was a flop- as the hooded mage toppled over, revealing his face as his robe was peeled away.

“Ugh…!”

Someone screamed as if the wind was knocked out of them.

For it was the fireball-casting mage who had toppled over.

Who could it be… or rather, how did someone assassinate the mage protected by Count Emil?

“Who goes there─!”

The Count, having suddenly lost his only mage, roared in fury.

“It’s me, you bastards.”

The reply contorted the Count’s face further.

It sounded like vulgar trash talk one would expect from a street thug, making Ron press his forehead and mutter,

“Oh, damn it all.”

“If you don’t want to die, make yourself scarce… though, I don’t see anyone worth sparing.”

The voice that assassinated the Count’s mage and insulted the Count himself slowly walked between the two groups, revealing itself.

In one hand, he wielded a large, single-bladed axe. On his belt, the Dragon-Slaying Sword Draupnir. On his back, a hammer as heavy as a boulder.

The man said, “Come at me. Count Emily or Emil or whatever. Let’s finish this and see if there’s any money to be made.”

The Count’s face twisted at the crass banter reminiscent of a 21st-century keyboard warrior.