Chapter 58

Chapter 58

"BARBARIAAAAN!"

Zakan's roar shook the entire village as he charged toward the rampaging Behemoth.

Arken followed, his black fur streaming behind him.

BOOM! CRAAASH!

Zakan's greatsword collided head-on with the Behemoth's front leg.

Dust exploded around them.

However, sheer fighting spirit alone was not enough to overcome such an overwhelming difference in size and strength.

Crrrrrk...!

"Urgh!"

A painful groan escaped Zakan's lips.

Overwhelmed by the Behemoth's monstrous strength, his feet began sliding backward across the ground.

"GRAAAAAH!"

The Behemoth roared and raised its other front leg, swinging it toward Zakan.

Zakan quickly pushed against the creature and barely managed to block the attack with the flat of his greatsword.

But the impact lifted him off the ground and sent him crashing into the remains of the wall.

CRASH!

"Zakan!"

Zakan staggered to his feet amid the dust, his body covered in blood.

Both arms trembled as he gripped his greatsword.

Arken was distracting the Behemoth and tearing at its ankles, but he couldn't inflict any serious damage.

No.

At this rate, Zakan might die.

There had to be a way.

There had to be some strategy for defeating the Behemoth.

But no matter how desperately I searched my memories, I couldn't think of anything useful.

I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood.

Am I really useless unless I already know what is going to happen?

How much longer was I going to hide behind everyone else and show off my little collection of game knowledge?

"Damn it."

I tightened my grip on my axe.

My Strength was 24.

That was comparable to the Strength of an ordinary adult barbarian warrior.

In other words, I was perfectly capable of contributing to a battle as a barbarian warrior myself.

"Haaah..."

I took a deep breath and rushed onto the battlefield.

"Izak...! It's dangerous! Stay back!"

Zakan shouted in alarm, but I didn't stop.

At that very moment, the Behemoth had opened its enormous jaws and was charging straight toward him.

I seized that brief opportunity and darted toward the monster's side.

"BARBARIAN!"

Then I swung my axe with all my strength.

I don't know how to defeat this thing.

But as a former chef, I know how an animal's bones and joints fit together.

Using that knowledge, I aimed for the narrow gap in its knee joint.

STAB!

"GRAAAAAH!"

Red blood erupted as the axe blade sank into the joint.

While I held the monster's attention, Zakan managed to drive his greatsword into one of its eyes.

But at the same moment, the Behemoth's muscles contracted, forcing my axe out of the wound.

Without hesitation, it swung its thick tail at both of us.

THUD!

"Urgh...!"

An unbearable pain unlike anything I had ever experienced tore through my body.

I was sent tumbling across the ground.

Blood gushed from my mouth, and every breath brought a stabbing pain that made it feel as though my ribs had been broken.

It hurt.

It hurt so much that I thought I was going insane.

Am I going to die like this?

The vivid, undeniable pain of reality, with my flesh tearing and my bones rattling, made my vision go dark.

"Shaman!"

"Izak! Zakan!"

Even through my fading consciousness, I could clearly hear the children screaming.

I'm sorry...

The Ancestor Spirit's wisdom? A great shaman?

I'm not really any of those things.

"R-Run... away."

I barely managed to move my unresponsive lips.

But the children didn't run.

"You horrible monster!"

"We will fight! We will protect our village and our brothers! BARBARIAAAAN!"

With Malko at the front, the uninjured children charged forward, screaming with determination.

Their hands were trembling with fear.

Even so, they bravely stepped in front of Zakan and me, pointing their weapons at the Behemoth.

They really were barbarians.

And the barbarians weren't the only ones who had rushed out to protect the village.

"Y-You... you monster! Do you have any idea how hard the young barbarians and I worked to build that wall?!"

It was Jack.

Furious that the wall he had poured more affection into than any other structure he had built in his entire life had been destroyed, Jack stood in front of me with a hammer in each hand.

"I finally found a place where I can create my greatest masterpiece without worrying about those damned nobles! Do you think I'll abandon my lifelong dream because of these bandits?!"

Olaf appeared beside him, his large red nose twitching as he shouldered his axe and assumed a fighting stance.

"I-I'll at least cheer you on!"

I heard a trembling voice near my ear.

It was Tofu.

I had expected him to be the first person to run away.

Instead, he stood beside me, holding a club almost as large as his own body.

Meanwhile, Mari was desperately dragging the bloodied children to safety.

Her face was bright red from the effort of moving children who were even bigger than she was.

But Mari gritted her teeth and refused to abandon a single one.

Luna was helping her mother with her tiny hands.

Because this was their home.

They were frightened.

They were terrified.

Yet everyone had come together and taken up arms.

CLANG! CLASH!

Unfortunately, their attacks couldn't even reach the Behemoth's claws.

The monster shook its body in irritation and raised one enormous foot, preparing to trample them.

"...They're my tribespeople."

Zakan rose from the rubble.

He slowly turned his head toward the children and me.

His blood-covered face had grown strangely calm.

"They're... my family."

At that very moment, blue system messages began appearing one after another at the edge of my vision.

[Zakan's destiny is changing as he gains enlightenment through those precious to him.]

[Zakan has chosen to become a guardian for those he must protect.]

[A portion of the seal on Zakan's potential has been released.]

[Zakan's Growth has increased from 17% to 30%!]

[Unique Trait: Guardian's Fighting Spirit has awakened.]

...Guardian's Fighting Spirit?

Immediately after I read the final message, a red, shimmering aura began rising from Zakan's body like a heat haze.

What the hell is that...?

I had never seen anything like it in the game.

BOOM!

When Zakan took a step forward, cracks spread across the ground like a spiderweb.

The mocking smiles instantly disappeared from the faces of Kalgo and the exiles, who had been watching the tragedy unfold from the rear.

Zakan's overwhelming presence and crimson fighting spirit were pressing down on the very air of the battlefield.

Even the Behemoth seemed to sense the danger instinctively.

It stopped the foot it had raised toward the children and turned its head toward Zakan.

Some of the exiles were so frightened that they collapsed onto the ground.

"Don't touch my people...!"

Zakan growled in a low voice.

Crimson fighting spirit flowed down his arms and wrapped around the blade of his old greatsword.

"Let's go, Arken."

"Grrrr...!"

At Zakan's command, Arken darted beneath the Behemoth's belly and bit fiercely into its leg.

The moment the monster's attention shifted toward Arken...

Zakan soared into the sky.

His movements were completely free of hesitation, as though he had suddenly attained some profound realization.

He raised his greatsword vertically above his head.

Then brought it down toward the Behemoth's skull like a falling meteor.

[Barbarian Guardian Swordsmanship, First Form: Earth Splitter.]

BOOOOOOM!

The moment Zakan's greatsword struck the top of the Behemoth's head, the fighting spirit surrounding the blade exploded.

The monster's thick blood-red armor shattered into countless pieces.

"GRAAAAAAAAH!"

The Behemoth was a monster that looked as though it had never knelt before anything in its entire life.

Yet now, screaming in agony as its skull was crushed, it collapsed to the ground.

BOOM.

"..."

"Did he kill it?!"

Malko clenched his fists and shouted.

I swallowed nervously and stared into the cloud of dust.

A short while later...

The dust cleared.

The Behemoth lay on the ground with its skull caved in, foam spilling from its mouth.

And standing proudly in front of it was Zakan.

"I-Impossible! That little brat defeated the Behemoth with a single strike?!"

Kalgo staggered backward, shouting in disbelief.

The exiles under his command also turned pale as though they had seen a ghost, dropping their weapons.

Already stripped of their will to fight by the fighting spirit Zakan was releasing, Kalgo and the exiles began falling to their knees one after another.

Crack.

But at that moment...

Cracks began spreading across Zakan's greatsword.

Blood also started streaming from the muscles in his arms.

"Haaah... Haaah..."

Zakan was barely managing to remain standing.

He looked as though he had already reached his limit.

Kalgo, who had been kneeling and anxiously looking around, noticed his condition.

He immediately sprang to his feet and shouted.

"Look carefully! That bastard has used up all his strength! Now's our chance! Cut off his head right now!"

But despite Kalgo's orders, the terrified exiles hesitated.

They looked at one another, unwilling to make the first move.

"Y-You useless idiots! What are you waiting for?! I'll give an enormous reward to whoever kills him!"

Kalgo jumped up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs.

It was at that exact moment.

STAB!

"...Urgh?!"

With a sickening sound, a sharp axe blade burst through Kalgo's chest.

Kalgo looked down at the weapon protruding from his body in disbelief.

And standing behind him...

Covered in Kalgo's blood...

Was Tark.

"T-Tark... Y-You really went and..."

"Because of your filthy greed, my family and brothers nearly died."

There wasn't the slightest trace of sympathy in Tark's eyes.

He violently pulled the axe free.

Then, without hesitation, he swung it and severed Kalgo's neck.

Thud. Roll, roll.

Just like that, the vicious leader of the exiles met a pitiful end, his severed head rolling across the ground.

"Kalgo is dead!"

Tark raised his bloodstained axe and roared at the remaining exiles.

"Today is the last day we will be dragged around by the threats of that monster who was worse than a beast! Those who wish to stand with me, throw down your weapons! Those who don't, leave quietly!"

The exiles began murmuring among themselves at Tark's declaration.

Then five barbarians stepped out of the group.

Without hesitation, they threw their weapons to the ground and stood beside Tark.

Some chose to stay.

Others left.

With their leader dead and their strongest weapon, the Behemoth, defeated, there was no longer any reason or fear holding the group together.

And so, the fierce battle finally ended.

Tark and his five companions cautiously approached us.

The children immediately raised their weapons, keeping a wary eye on them.

But I lifted my hand and stopped the kids.

"Shaman...!"

"Oh, goodness! Are you all right? Are you badly hurt?!"

Mari, Jack, Olaf, and even Tofu rushed over and helped support those of us who had been injured.

The pain in my ribs was terrible, but I somehow managed to get to my feet.

In the middle of the battlefield, Zakan slowly staggered toward me, covered in blood and holding his cracked greatsword.

"Zakan..."

Blood was still running down both his arms.

Yet the large hand he extended toward me was steady.

Zakan silently held out his hand.

And I...

Without saying a word, firmly grasped it.

The warmth of his palm.

The smell of blood and sweat.

We didn't need to say anything.

We already understood each other without words.

...I'm not the only one who's growing.

Zakan and the children standing before me weren't NPCs who simply waited for my instructions before taking action.

They made their own decisions.

They endured pain.

They shed blood alongside me.

And they were growing.

They were my family.

That evening.

"...Thank you, Zakan."

"..."

Zakan and I sat side by side in front of the campfire, both wrapped in bandages, looking up at the night sky.

At my words of gratitude, Zakan merely shrugged without much reaction before looking up at the sky again.

There were so many stars that they seemed ready to spill down upon us.

"Izak."

"Yeah?"

"You cannot protect the tribe all by yourself."

"..."

Zakan's gaze remained fixed on the sky.

"When your wisdom temporarily loses its way, that is when a warrior must step forward."

"..."

"Because we are barbarians."

Ah...

I looked up at the sky, just as Zakan was doing.

Because I felt that if I lowered my head, it might start raining.

The next morning.

Tark, the five warriors who had chosen to follow him, and Mokona, who was carefully supporting her heavily pregnant belly, stood in the center of the village with their heads bowed.

I briefly exchanged glances with Zakan, who was standing beside me.

Then I slowly approached them.

When our footsteps stopped, Tark knelt on one knee and spoke.

"Great Chief, and wise Shaman."

His voice was heavy with the exhaustion of the previous night's battle, but it remained steady.

"We are exiles who broke tribal law and were cast out of our groups. Blinded by hunger, we stained our hands with blood while serving a man who was worse than a beast... And in our foolishness, we even led enemies to the Rock Tribe's village."

As he spoke, Tark removed the old axe hanging from his waist and carefully pushed it toward my feet.

The other five warriors followed his example, as though they had agreed upon it beforehand.

For a barbarian, laying down one's weapon was an act of submission.

It meant placing one's life entirely in the hands of another.

"From this moment on, our lives belong to the Rock Tribe."

Tark prostrated himself on the ground and waited for Zakan's judgment.

Without saying a word, Zakan picked up the axe Tark had laid down.

Then he held it out in front of him.

"The brand of exile was washed away with the blood we shed together yesterday."

"...!"

"Stand up, Tark. A warrior of the Rock Tribe does not kneel."

That was all.

Tark stared at Zakan in a daze.

Then large tears began falling from his eyes as he firmly grasped the axe Zakan was offering him.

"I will live for the Rock Tribe until the day I draw my last breath."

Tark shouted with emotion.

The five warriors then pledged their loyalty to Zakan one after another.

With this, our village, which had previously been crowded with nothing but an unruly collection of children, had finally gained some much-needed fighting strength.

At that moment, Mokona, who was standing beside Tark, looked around the village with sharp eyes, as though she had something to say.

Then she turned toward me.

"I am grateful for your kindness in taking us in. But... there is a problem with this village."

"A problem?"

At my question, Mokona and Tark exchanged glances and nodded simultaneously.

"This village is completely blind and deaf."