Changed Fate 4

He stood in front of the city gate.

Thud. Thud.

The gate that served as the only path between the holy land and District 7.

Thud. Thud.

Thousands of barbarians gathered before it, gripping their weapons and stomping the ground in a steady rhythm.

Boom.

Somehow, the pounding rhythm filled his body with strength.

It was starting to sink in now that battle was just around the corner.

Maybe that was why.

Badump.

Rotmiller checked his equipment one more time.

Boom.

A crossbow for that one decisive strike.

A dagger and longsword for close-quarters combat.

A round shield for ranged defense or when protecting high-value targets.

Gunpowder pouches attachable to arrows, smoke bombs for visual disruption, potions, scrolls…

Boom—!

He even checked all the consumables in his Treasure Vault. However, thanks to his meticulous and regular maintenance, everything was exactly as it should be.

“Whew…”

Taking a long, deep breath eased the tension a little. Rottmiller finally relaxed his body.

‘Did I gain some weight?’

The gear he hadn’t worn in a while felt a bit tight. However, while it was slightly uncomfortable, the equipment didn’t feel foreign or awkward. On the contrary, it felt as though he had finally put on his own clothes again.

“I thought I’d never have to wear this again.”

Maybe he had known deep down. Even when he was desperate for money, he kept his gear instead of selling it. Perhaps he had sensed a day like this would come.

After scanning his surroundings out of habit, Rotmiller’s eyes finally settled on the faces around him. Their expressions had all hardened with resolve. He found it unusual.

Well, if they were explorers, he wouldn’t have thought much of it, but…

Boom, Boom

However, as the barbarians pounded the ground in rhythm as if it were some kind of festival, Rottmiller noticed those all-too-familiar tremors running through their bodies. It was the trembling of people on the brink of battle.

‘Well…’

They were human too.

They bled when stabbed.

And if they bled too much, they would never see their loved ones again.

“The gate will open soon!! Prepare for battleeeee!!” Aynar suddenly bellowed from the frontlines, her voice loud enough to carry for miles.

In response, the barbarian warriors, who had been stomping their feet in anticipation, roared in unison.

“BETHELRAAAAAAAAAA!”

The roar was so deafening it felt like his eardrums would burst. However, he didn’t have any spare hands to block them.

Rotmiller gripped his weapons with both hands and stared ahead.

Right in front of the gate stood the elite members personally selected by Versil Gowland.

From their equipment to the aura they radiated, they were clearly different from ordinary people.

Clench.

Seeing Aynar standing among them made him clutch his weapon tightly. She guarded the gate, wielding the giant green spear she’d obtained during her adventures.

Her back looked more dependable than anyone else’s.

Ah… I see.

So these are Bjorn Jandel’s “companions.”

Clench.

There was no need to feel miserable.

No reason to feel self-loathing over the gap in talent between himself and them.

When had it ever been different?

He had always been slow and lagging behind. People called him diligent, but that diligence wasn’t something he chose to have out of desire. It was simply all he had.

Having accepted his fate, Rotmiller gave up his life in the labyrinth and looked for a new job.

Therefore, it was useless to fantasize about what it would have been been like if he were in that position. Those people were there because they kept moving forward while he had dropped out.

And above all…

Kuung!

And above all—

Thud!

That wasn’t even why he was here today.

He even ignored his intuition, which was screaming danger.

“The barrier is down!”

Rottmiller raised his weapon, ready to fight.

“BETHEL—RA!!!”

Just like those Barbarians shouting the names of their ancestors before battle. To protect something precious.

***

‘What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?’

That was the only thought currently inside Sven Parab’s head.

‘What do I do…?’

He kept asking himself, searching for an answer.

“Did you hear me? I’m saying we have to save her!’

Should he save her? Surprisingly, that wasn’t the question he was trying to answer.

The answer was already decided.

Thump.

He must not save her. If he left the ‘wardrobe’ to save the woman outside, something terrible would surely happen.

No, Parav was thinking about something else entirely. Some might even call him the worst person alive.

How could he persuade Lyris Marone to abandon that woman? He turned it over in his mind again and again, but no answer came.

“…There is a risk our location will be discovered.”

In the end, those were the only words he could muster.

Marrone went silent for a moment. Then, with cold eyes and a voice edged with betrayal, she replied.

“…I’m disappointed. I didn’t know you were this kind of person.”

It felt like needles were stabbing into his heart. The truth spilled out of him before he could stop it.

“…To me, you matter far more than some stranger whose name I don’t even know.” Even though he felt flustered after admitting it, Parav hurriedly moved on to his next line. “And we need to survive if we’re going to keep the promise we made that day…”

Half excuse, half sincerity.

But Marone’s eyes remained cold.

“If we pursue some grand cause while ignoring someone’s life, how are we any different from the royal family?”

“Stay inside the wardrobe, Mr. Parab. I’ll handle it myself.”

Marone approached the window, then focused in silence for a moment.

“Naria Kartetura!”

The spell she cast with her chant shot through the shattered window and struck the ground below.

“Aaaah!”

The woman was the only one still screaming. Marone’s background as a military mage allowed her to drive a single spell cleanly through two heads with precision.

She turned back and met the eyes of the man cowering in the wardrobe.

Parab didn’t know what to say, but Marone was different.

“…Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble for you, Mr. Parab.”

“Pardon…? What do you mean by—”

Before he could ask what she meant, Lyris Marone jumped over the broken windowsill and landed on the ground below.

And then…

“…Ma’am, please go back inside the building you were in! I’ll clear these bodies first—”

“…Yes! Yes? Ah! I-I’ll help too!”

“I’ll hold this side. Please grab the legs!”

As the hurried conversation drifted up from below, shame gnawed at him. But it changed nothing.

Thud.

He closed the wardrobe door.

***

The start of the battle was unremarkable.

Hwooooooooo—!

The translucent barrier that had towered high along the castle walls gradually faded and then vanished completely.

Then—

Silence.

Five strange seconds.

And those five seconds of silence were strangely unsettling, the kind he had never experienced before.

Thump. Thump.

Blood rushed to his head, his vision narrowed, and his heart pounded so wildly it made him nauseous.

At the same time—

Why isn’t anything happening?

Did the barrier just deactivate by accident?

Then… does that mean we don’t have to fight?

The moment that faint hope flickered through his mind—

KWA-A-A-A-A-BOOM—!

A mana cannon blasted the gate apart, shattering his hope along with it.

Thankfully, the protective barrier the mages had cast over the area limited the damage to just the gate.

Fwoosh

“They’re coming…”

However, through the kicked-up dirt and dust, he could hear hundreds, maybe thousands, of soldiers rushing toward him.

“Betheeeeeelraaaaa!!”

This first taste of ‘war’ was nothing like what Rotmiller had imagined.

For instance, he’d assumed the elite members at the front would hold the soldiers back. But that hardly mattered when there were thousands of them. They could block the main wave, but there was no way they could stop every trickle.

“Raaaah!”

“Kill them!!”

In an instant, the small streams that had broken through the front lines reached the second defensive line.

“Gaaah!”

“Aaaaagh!!”

The eerie silence of moments before vanished, replaced by a space filled with the stench of blood and screams.

Strategy and tactics meant nothing anymore.

A chaotic frenzy had erupted.

Right before his eyes.

Whoosh—!

Rottmiller, whose mind had gone blank for a moment, snapped back to his senses when an arrow brushed past his ear. He began swinging his weapon like a madman.

Slash—!

He cut down an enemy with his longsword.

Thunk—!

He fired his crossbow, piercing straight through another’s head.

Boom—!

He hurled an explosive pouch into the middle of the enemy ranks, and even threw himself to the ground to roll and save an ally beside him.

He did everything he could from his position.

And it wasn’t just Rotmiller. Everyone here was doing the same.

“It’s Aynar Pheneline!!”

“They said we get a Rank 2 essence if we take that bitch’s head, right?!”

“Dieeeee!!”

Aynar truly embodied the phrase “one-woman army” as she swung her green greatspear, overpowering everyone around her.

KWA-BOOOOM!

The Blood Spirit Queen, Erwin Fornacci di Tersia.

Even if the others weren’t as well known as the two women, each clan showed the teamwork they had built over countless years.

“BET…HELRLAA—!!!”

“Kill everyone who entered the sanctuary!!”

At this rate, it didn’t seem impossible to repel the Noark forces.

But that hope was short lived.

BOOM!

“Mana cannon! It’s a mana cannon!”

The forces of Noark seized the space above the city walls and finished setting up their mana cannons. Then they began firing down on the battlefield.

BOOOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Each time a mana cannon hit the overcrowded defensive line, several to dozens of people were severely injured or killed.

Could human life…really disappear so easily?

Rotmiller felt as though the monster called war was chewing up his soul and spitting it out.

“Ha… haah…”

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the battle began, yet his breath was already hitching in his throat, and his limbs felt heavy and weak.

Perhaps his eardrums had been damaged by the overwhelming roar of the battlefield. At some point, all he could hear was a violent ringing. Nothing else.

……

The warrior dying beside him let out a silent scream.

“……..”

He couldn’t hear the shouts of the enemies charging at him with killing intent.

There were only two sounds Rotmiller could hear.

Riiiiiiing—

The violent ringing that paralyzed his ability to think straight.

And…

Badump—!

The pounding of his heart, desperate to live.

Amid the storm of silent malice and voiceless screams, Rotmiller swung his weapon.

Badump!

Struggling to ignore the inexplicable sense of dread rising within him.

Continue reading more chapters at henprogressive.com

Please join here, I need supporters to help me continue translating Surviving game as a barbarian and Lee Gwak
If it doesn’t work support me here buymeacoffee.com/hennoveltranslations. There are advanced chapters for supporters as well.