First Point (2)

One Noarkan approached and tried to inspect the cart. He did not look particularly diligent, nor did he give off the impression of someone earnestly carrying out his duties. Regardless of his mean-looking appearance, there was something unmistakable in his voice, a certain atmosphere unique to his kind.

“What’s this? Why aren’t you talking? Is there something expensive inside?”

Hearing that, Rotmiller understood immediately.

This man’s goal was nothing more than satisfying his own greed.

“…It’s just food supplies.”

Rotmiller spoke in hopes that the man would lose interest and move on, but the Noarkan only smirked at his excuse.

“Food? At least try to make it believable. Hey, Bro? Why so cold? Aren’t we all just trying to make a living here?”

“What is it that you want?”

“It’s nothing big. Just share a little. We’re all suffering out here, huh?”

Rotmiller let out a silent sigh. How did he end up catching the eye of someone like this? Or rather, should he consider himself lucky it was someone like this?

‘If I play this right, I might be able to end this with words.’

Having come to that conclusion, Rotmiller took out several items with high monetary value from his [Treasure Vault].

“This is all I can give. Be satisfied with this.”

The items he handed over were part of his precious assets, but he didn’t consider them a waste. If such trifles could save Bjorn Jandel, it was an incredibly cheap price to pay.

But…

“Oh? Such valuable items?”

There was one flaw in Rotmiller’s solution. Having retired from life as an explorer and spending his days teaching others how to be scouts in the barbarian sanctuary, Rotmiller had forgotten. A beast’s greed is bottomless, and there are certainly beasts in this world that speak the language of men.

And because of that—

“Bro, the more I think about it…”

If you look weak, you get bitten.

“I don’t think this is enough.”

The Noarkan’s voice brimmed with deeper greed and confidence.

The reason was simple.

He had handed over valuables after just a few words, which made him look easy.

And from the Noarkan’s perspective, that could only mean Rotmiller was hiding something even more valuable.

“What do you have that you’d hand these over? Let me take a quick look inside.”

“…Didn’t you hear me? I said I want to look inside.”

The man, who had initially kept his distance, was now approaching in a threatening manner. It seemed he intended to inspect the cart’s contents, even if he had to resort to force.

“Do you really have to look inside?”

“If I say I do?”

At that, a confident smile crept across the Noarkan’s face, and Rotmiller felt his heart sink.

So this is how it ends.

After a brief moment of deliberation, Rotmiller nodded.

“Fine. Take a look. But, as I said, there’s really nothing but food inside.”

“Bullshit. You think I’m an idiot? Let’s see how well you hid it.”

The Noarkian scoffed and walked toward the cart. The moment his greedy hand reached for the cloth covering it—

Thuck—!

Rotmiller drove a dagger pulled from his [Treasure Vault] deep into the man’s neck.

“…Huh?”

The man stared blankly, not even understanding what had happened, before collapsing to the ground.

Rotmiller slowly looked around.

Badump.

Every nearby Noarkan was staring at him. There had already been a commotion, and now someone had been killed. Of course they would notice.

But Rotmiller finally understood.

Until now, he had only heard about it, but this was how Noark truly operated.

Even the Noarkans searching the surrounding area showed no suspicion as they looked at him. There was no surprise or fear at the sight of a dead man, only a thick, unmistakable layer of greed.

And so Rotmiller shouted at them instead.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

“If you don’t want to die, mind your own business and get back to work.”

A shout meant to ensure he did not look weak.

But those sticky gazes did not fade.

Squish.

Rotmiller pulled the dagger out of the man’s neck.

And then…

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it…’

Cursing endlessly in his mind, he began sawing through the dead man’s neck.

Slice. Slice.

After cutting through flesh and even severing the hard cervical bone, the dead man’s head was completely separated.

Rotmiller shoved it onto the spike mounted on the left side of the cart.

Then…

“What? You want to hang on the right side instead?”

When he addressed the crowd again, everyone finally lost interest and returned to their tasks.

Rattle. Rattle.

The cart, which had been stopped, began moving again.

A little faster than before.

Rattle. Rattle.

As it moved, Rotmiller finally understood why goblins and orcs wore bone ornaments.

They might look disturbing to human eyes.

But they were, in fact, extremely practical tools of barbarism.

Just like this.

“…What’s with that guy?”

“Where’s he going with that cart? Should we ask?”

“Leave him alone. He looks crazy.”

Those he encountered didn’t want to get involved in unnecessary trouble and looked away. Not one of them suspected that the Bjorn Jandel they were searching for was being carried off in the very cart of the man rolling past with a severed head mounted on a stick.

Rattle. Rattle.

He continued down the street at a quicker pace, and the cart finally came to a stop when the city walls appeared in the distance.

“Who are you? You seem to share my tastes. How amusing.”

A mage holding a staff stepped in front of the cart.

He did not seem particularly bothered by the head on the cart. In fact, he looked almost indifferent.

“So what were you trying to protect that made you do something so cute?”

A powerful gust of wind swirled up before him. The cloth covering the cart tore free and was hurled into the air, exposing what lay underneath.

“Bjorn Jandel………………!!!”

“It’s Bjorn Jandel……………!!!”

There was no one in this city who didn’t recognize his face.

***

With the help of the bear that suddenly appeared, Parav managed to escape onto the street.

And then—

Boom!!

With the destruction of the well connected to the secret tunnel, the danger of pursuit was eliminated. He also caught sight of the people waiting for him at the well.

“Mr. Parav…”

Lyris Marone rushed into his arms in tears, followed by refugees offering their thanks, and Lady bear.

And then—

“Haha, good to meet you. It’s our first time, right? I’m Hikurod Murad. You could say I’m your senior.”

Even a dwarf clasped his hand, letting out a hearty laugh.

“Senior…?”

“Oh! Mr. Murad used to be one of Mr. Jandel’s companions!”

At Marone’s explanation, Sven Parav nodded. Now that he thought about it, he had heard of such a person before.

“Oh!” he exclaimed as realization dawned on him. “I heard you took up work at a forge after retiring…”

“That’s me! Well, right now I’m on the verge of losing my entire fortune again! Hahaha!!”

“It’s an honor to meet you. But what brings you here……………….?”

“Because of that friend over there. He said he was going to save his wife alone, but how could I let a man who can’t even find his way around go by himself?”

The dwarf tipped his chin toward the bear husband and wife, and only then did Parav properly greet the man.

“I am Abman Urichfrit.”

“Ah…! I’ve heard of you! I’m Sven Parav.”

“Again, thank you so much. I heard you saved my wife and child?”

“Ah… I only did what needed to be done.”

“Still, I’m grateful. If you ever need help, no matter what it is, come to me. I’ll drop everything to help.”

Though he felt the sincerity in those words, Sven also felt something strange.

It was unexpected that the woman he had rescued turned out to be the wife of one of Jandel’s former allies, and when he thought back on it, saving her had, in the end, saved his own life.

“But have you two worked together before, Mr. Urikfrit and Mr. Murad?” Marone asked.

The dwarf answered for both

“Ahaha, no, we haven’t. I’m rather the senior between the two of us.”

“Really? You seem very close.”

“We became friends through fate. We both run shops, we both can hold our liquor, and we share a connection through Jandel as well.”

“Ah, I understand now. I was wondering if you two had been on the same team before, but I guess I was wrong.”

That explained it.

Even this moment was happening thanks to the shared bond of having been Jandel’s allies.

“So who was on your team, Mr. Murad? I know about Mr. Jandel, Ms. Karlstein, and that mage, but the last name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Ah, Brown Rotmiller. He was our scout. In a way, he’s this guy’s direct senior. I heard he now teaches scouting to young warriors at the sanctuary…”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Come to think of it, it’s been ages since I last saw him. Once this is all over, I should visit him and share a drink.”

The dwarf smiled, his eyes filled with nostalgia.

Whoosh!

The whirlwind that swept through the cart tore away the cloth, overturning the situation in an instant.

Everyone fell silent, even the mage who had just moments ago flipped the cloth with a joking tone.

“Bjorn Jandel……………”

“It’s Bjorn Jandel……………!!!”

“Then, as time began to move again, they burst into shouts.”

However, Rotmiller did not panic. Though his mind went blank for a second, he quickly regained his composure and analyzed the situation.

At present, District Four was under Noark’s occupation.

However, that did not mean the Noark forces had seized the city wall between District Four and the Imperial Capital.

Control of the wall still lay with the royal family, and the Noark army was holding its lines at a considerable distance from it.

Furthermore, aside from the area around the main gate, the battle line was not particularly wide.

‘If I can just break through here…….………….!

Then somehow, it would work out.

The royal army would be watching this area from atop the wall. They would open the gate, send reinforcements—do anything to rescue Jandel.

Yes. So that meant……………….

“…I’m sorry.”

Thwack—!

With that brief apology, he drove an arrowhead into the horse’s butt.

“Neigh!!!”

Startled by the sharp pain, the horse lunged forward like a bolt.

The mage, who had frozen after seeing Bjorn Yandel, quickly rolled aside to avoid being trampled, clearing the way.

Of course, the chances of breaking through the enemy ranks and reaching the city wall were vanishingly small……

‘But it’s not zero.’

Rotmiller had learned this while living among barbarians: giving up without trying is the most foolish thing one can do.

It was true. Failing was better than giving up.

Thump!

All the more so when there was nothing left to lose.

“Right! Bethelraaa!!”

For the first time, Rotmiller let out the battle cry he had heard so often that he was sick of it.

And at that exact moment—

“BETHELRAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

As if answering his cry, a true battle cry thundered from somewhere. Having heard the shouts of countless barbarians before, Rotmiller instantly recognized the voice’s owner.

‘Wait, this voice is……………!

Aynar………………?’

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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.