Surviving The Game As A Barbarian Episode 141

Awakening (4)

Hector Ludwig.

A once revered High Priest of the Church of Leatlas, an unfortunate old man who was kidnapped by a dragon slayer in his later years and forced to become the servant of an evil god.

“A star in the twilight may guide them…….”

He stops in his habitual drawing of the holy symbol.

Hesitating because of the voice of the evil deity echoing in his head.

[O hypocrite, do you still harbor vain hopes?]

He knows without having to be told.

It’s a vain hope, a hypocrisy.

No matter the excuses, everything is the result of his own choices.

‘If only, that day…’

Had he not succumbed to evil.

If he had stood by his convictions and made all the sacrifices, like the great heroes in the legends.

This man would not have ended up here.

Many would not have faded away in despair, and the explorers he met today would have finished their expedition and returned to the city without incident.

But…

Clenching his fist tightly with his wrinkled hand.

It was a pointless thought, a regret.

Even if he could return to that day, he would surely make the same choices.

And as if to prove it.

Whooosh!

He stood in front of the portal, which was still glowing.

To follow the Dragon Slayer’s one and only instruction.

To protect this place in case they escape here.

‘I hope they do not come here.’

It was the only hope allowed to him.

A hope so small that it could hardly be called a hope at all.

But the evil god was not satisfied with this.

[Grow even more desperate.]

Long worn down by despair, he now lost even the will to solve problems.

Like a slave happy to be whipped only that today, he resigned himself to a miserable reality.

Choosing the lesser evil, comforting himself that it was the best option.

He deliberately ignored that he had the means to end it all.

Yet, as if still insufficient, the evil god says,

[O hypocrite, watch. The despair and pain because of you.]

A single voice, echoing in his brain.

Soon, beyond his tightly shut eyelids, a scene unfolds.

A barbarian and his companions fighting against a great evil.

Against seemingly impossible odds.

[Bethel—raaaaaaaaah!!]

Unlike himself, who resigned to his fate.

****

“So, you’re not running away.”

He looked at me and laughed as if it’s ridiculous.

 

I have no intention of being intimidated, so I force a smile on my face as well.

As if running away would have earned me any mercy.

The situation is very straightforward.

[Survive using the mage until the state of soul exhaustion ends.]

If this were a kind game, a message like that would have appeared.

The duration of soul exhaustion is about 20 minutes.

I have to hold on desperately until then.

Oh, and by the way, running away is not an option.

There’s nothing more tempting to bite into than prey showing its back.

“Protect Dwalk!”

I shout with all my might.

Thud!

He kicks off the ground as if he won’t give me any time to react.

His form accelerated instantly.

In his hand, he held the viper’s fang stolen from Misha.

Sigh, how did he even manage to steal that?

I push away the bitterness and concentrate on his movements until the end.

Crash!

I block the viper’s fang with my mace and judge the situation.

With a jerk, my foot slipped backwards.

This means I am being overpowered even in what I was most confident in: strength.

Whoosh!

The sword, swinging in a smooth arc, comes at me again.

I hastily retreat, but I am still not fast enough to match his movements.

This means the enemy also has the upper hand in agility.

Sizzle.

Acidic blood sprays from the opened wound.

So, [Iron Skin] doesn’t work either.

I was hoping it would be different since he couldn’t use the Arc Steel Sword. 

[Iron Skin] is a skill that becomes more efficient the higher the physical resistance.

Whoom!

Erasing any complaints, I swing my mace again.

Sizzle.

Not only does it fail to reach him, but my injuries also increase.

Yet, I swing my mace again.

Taking hits while giving my allies time.

That’s my role after all.

“Dwalki, when’s the magic ready!”

“It’s prepared. But you two are too close—”

“Just do it!”

Finally, the awaited ice spear is fired.

As expected, the enemy quickly retreated.

He must have decided it would be a loss if he got hit with me.

Thankfully so.

I also stepped back, moving out of the range of the ice spear.

Without a moment to catch my breath, I reached behind me to grab a shield from my backpack.

Since I can’t use [Gigantification] anyway.

Without his Arc Steel Sword, having a shield is more helpful in combat.

I’d like to don a breastplate as well, but…

‘He won’t give me that much time.’

I stop wishing for things I can’t have.

Not out of resignation, but to focus on what’s desperately needed.

Discarding what’s unnecessary and taking only what can be used.

In that sense, one immediate piece of information to check.

“How’s Misha?”

“Looks like a bone broke and punctured an organ. We gave her a potion, so she should be fine soon.”

So, until then, it means we have to fight 1:4.

It’s a harsh reality, but thankfully, the one down isn’t Dwalki. If Dwalki had been the one injured, we’d have no chance at all—

“Be careful!”

The enemy charged at us again.

It seems he’s not in the mood to wait leisurely.

This is somewhat a positive sign.

‘Right, you’re in a hurry too.’

Though it was somewhat expected, this confirms my suspicion.

He’s not just suffering from a temporary status effect.

I can tell by the way he comes at me like every second counts.

Click!

Before the soul exhaustion ends, he’s also pushing himself to decide the outcome. Simply put, if we can hold out for 20 minutes, an opportunity will come our way.

But…

‘Surviving 20 minutes feels like an eternity.’

Time is not on our side.

He might not know this, but we only have four potions left.

‘Apart from the top-grade, one medium and one high-grade’

Given the current situation, it’s clear they’ll all be used up in a few minutes.

Therefore…

“Bethel—raaaaaaaaah!!”

I shout as loudly as I can, pushing forward with my shield and quickly dashing to swing my mace.

Judging that we absolutely can’t last 20 minutes by playing defensively.

At least, not in the first few minutes.

Tatat.

If he creates distance, I immediately close it.

Focusing more on offense than defense.

Regardless of whether Rotmiller’s arrow support comes or not.

Whether Dwalki casts his magic or not.

“…Are you trying to die together?”

I stick close to him like someone bent on mutual destruction, swinging my mace.

This is what I call the Barbarian Ghost Mode.

Ironically, this tactic has minimized our injuries and prevented him from even thinking about approaching Dwalki.

Proving that the best defense is a good offense.

“Tch.”

He twists his body to dodge an ice spear, halting his stab at me but, Unfortunately, he moves towards where a crossbow bolt is shot.

Thwack!

A monumental first hit.

Although it didn’t penetrate deep due to his physical resistance, hitting the thigh should restrict his mobility somewhat.

But, did he start to realize something?

‘That’s as far as easy goes.’

At this point, the momentum in his eyes changed.

So, I quickly retreated as well.

A man who has learnt to give up in order to get something is dangerous in any field.

“You persistent bastards…!”

A viscous killing intent oozes from his swung sword.

It’s as if he’s unleashed his shackles.

His sword, previously limited in trajectory for defense, now draws a free path with a single purpose.

Well, the biggest change is yet to come.

Whoosh!

Even as an arrow grazed his shoulder, he pressed on me without flinching.

And as a result.

Thwack!

After several exchanges of blows, his blade deeply penetrated my abdomen.

A wound that could lead to death if left untreated, thanks to the absence of natural regeneration.

[Your body is being regenerated due to the effect of Medium Healing]

Rotmiller used another potion.

Now only one top-grade and two high-grade potions remain.

To make matters worse.

Tatat.

I failed to stop him.

Like performing some kind of acrobatics, he trampled over the swung mace and leaped over me.

“Fuck.”

I quickly turned around and reached out, but it was already too late.

With another kick off the ground, he rapidly closed the distance towards the rear guard.

“Back off!”

The dwarf tries to protect Dwalki, but it’s of no use.

Especially without his key skill, [Counterweight].

Crash!

A single kick sent the dwarf flying like a football as he held his shield.

Rotmiller discarded his crossbow and swung his sword.

Of course, it was futile.

Thwack!

The enemy easily parried Rotmiller’s sword and thrust a greenish blade into his abdomen.

But as he tried to withdraw his sword.

“This, is our property.”

Rotmiller grabbed his hand, preventing him from pulling out the sword.

Whoosh!

Fortunately, an ice spear was fired just in time, causing the enemy to drop the sword and retreat.

Thud.

Soon after, Rotmiller, having lost his support, collapsed powerlessly to the ground. The sword that had been stuck in his abdomen was nowhere to be found.

The skill [Treasure Vault] of the mimic, which does not consume soul energy.

To make it unusable by the enemy.

To be of even the slightest help to the team.

‘As long as he gets the potion in time, he can be saved.’

Despite my teammate’s injuries, I remained calm.

However, not everyone could do the same.

“You, what did you do to Rotmiller…!!”

Misha, who was leaning against the wall recovering and hardly able to move, swung her sword at him.

Knowing it wouldn’t reach.

For just one purpose.

“Dwalki can’t get to… urgh!”

Misha, caught by his foot, was slammed against the wall again. However, instead of heading straight for Dwalki, he quickly moved towards the unconscious Misha.

His intention was clear.

To deliver a finishing blow and steal the remaining sword as well.

This damned thief.

“Didn’t I say? It’s ours.”

I swung my mace like I was swatting away a fly, and he jumped away from Misha.

And then he sneered.

“Barbarian, you’re not seriously thinking of still fighting, are you?”

What the fuck, asshole, Of course, I am.

Instead of answering, I lunged at him.

Whoosh!

The enemy easily dodged and taunted,

“Do you really trust that scum? A guy whose magic ends with a few curses and an ice spear with a frost blast?”

Of course.

What does it matter if it’s a lower-tier attack spell?

If it hits the head, the outcome is the same.

I’ll buy as much time as needed until then.

“Dwalki!!”

Thinking it was about time for another spell, I shouted with all my might.

But what’s this now?

“Shite.”

No magic comes.

Royal Mage, Leor Wuerv Dwalki.

His application to join a team with only two warriors was no accident.

He wanted to seem special.

So, he chose what he thought was the easiest option.

With two warriors, a mage would seem more valuable, he reasoned. However, it didn’t take long for his true nature to be revealed.

“Hahaha, my name is Leor Wuerv Dwalki, a Rank 8 Mage certified by the Royal Family of Raphdonia—”

“Thought you were something, but you’re just trash.”

Trash.

A being not even recognized as a mage by other mages.

“Ha ha! So, does that mean our team is a gathering of half ling? Better that way, we don’t have to feel inferior looking at each other.”

Yet, they accepted him, saying it was okay.

They understood and said he was the same.

It felt like redemption.

For 25 years, maybe his life had been leading up to meeting them.

But…

“Do you really trust that scum? Apart from a few curses, all he has are ice spears and frost blasts?”

In the end, his nature hadn’t changed.

Even when the moment to shine arrived, he couldn’t properly fulfill any expectations.

No matter how much his magical power increased.

He was a halfling mage.

A half ling mage who couldn’t even meet the expectations of his precious teammates.

Yet, despite that…

“Get back!”

He was protected by a friend.

“This is ours.”

He couldn’t save a smiling comrade who was stabbed with a sword.

“Dwalki can’t get to… urgh!”

He couldn’t protect the woman he loved.

His mind went blank at that realization.

He felt an unbearable helplessness, unable to breathe.

If possible, he would have run away from this cruel reality right then.

But…

“It looks like the scum has already given up.”

Giving up is not an option.

Maybe if he were alone, it would be different.

But his precious comrades are still fighting, aren’t they?

Alone, trying to protect everyone.

“Barbarian, you know it too, right? That it’s all over.”

Despite the enemy’s taunting, he silently swings his mace, spitting blood in the enemy’s face.

Until the very end.

He’s still doing his best to respond.

[You’ve brightened up. Do you like your colleagues that much?]

As he began to chant, he recalled a conversation he’d had one day.

It was a conversation he had with a master at the mage tower right after surviving the troll encounter.

[What? You want to learn magic that can kill a troll? Well, there’s nothing… not exactly]

That day, Dwalki paid a large sum of money to learn one particular magic.

Or more accurately, a ‘combination of magics.’

The master repeatedly admonished him to never use it, but…

[Thought Acceleration]

Cognition dramatically improves, making time seem to slow down.

[Magic Amplification]

The heart stimulates the inherent magic power, temporarily increasing output.

[Heart Stimulation]

Forcibly increasing the heart rate to spread magic power throughout the body, among other notorious mental and sensory spells known for their severe side effects.

Thump-thump-thump-thump!

His heart races as if it’s going to burst, circulating magic power throughout his body. Meanwhile, his mind is clearer than ever, and everything in front of him is sharp.

Feeling like he could do anything.

[What’s its name? There’s no precise name. It’s a combination known through word of mouth. But if we had to name it…]

[Well, ‘sacrifice’ sounds a bit off]

Dwarki extended his hand forward.

That’s all he did.

[Right, ‘Awakening’ might be appropriate]

The basic offensive magic, Magic Missile.

Dozens of arrows become light and shoot out.

TL/N- Dwalki’s time to shine