Barbarian’s Adventure in a Fantasy World
Chapter 87: Raid Dungeon (4)

Chapter 87: Raid Dungeon (4)

Ketal knew there were other barbarians who were not from the White Snowfield. He knew it from the reaction of people filled with fear and apprehension. However, he had never actually seen one before.

Initially, he hadn’t cared enough to be curious, but after constantly hearing about their notorious reputation, his interest had been piqued.

Are they the same as the barbarians from the White Snowfield? Ketal wondered. He then looked at Geinalt. “I’ll stay in the back and keep watch for any unexpected situations. I’ll leave the fighting to you guys.”

Geinalt nodded, then looked at Marcy. “Marcy, I need you to cast body enhancement magic on Barak. Barak, be ready to pierce their heads.”

“Yes.”

“Understood.”

Marcy began chanting a spell while Barak pulled back his bowstring. Geinalt raised his shield.

Ketal watched the scene unfold with delight. He hadn’t planned on fighting from the start. This was a proper mercenary party, and there was no way he would pass up the opportunity to watch their battle from the best seat in the house.

“Begin battle,” Geinalt ordered.

At that moment, Marcy muttered softly, “Body Enhancement.”

With her whispered words, Barak’s body strengthened. A force beyond human limits flowed into his drawn bowstring.

Barak released his grip. With a sharp whistling sound, the arrow flew toward one of the orcs.

Thud!

The arrow pierced straight through the orc’s skull. It staggered before collapsing. It was a clean kill.

The remaining orcs, only realizing now that they were under attack, let out enraged cries and raised their clubs.

“Kueeek!” They charged forward.

However, Barak had already drawn another arrow. Without hesitation, he loosed it. The second arrow struck true, piercing another orc’s head.

Now, only two remained. Geinalt charged forward, raising his shield. One of the orcs swung its club down toward him.

“Kuaagh!” the orc shouted.

The orcs were nearly 1.3 times larger than Geinalt. Naturally, they were stronger as well. Both of the orcs attacked him at once. Yet, Geinalt didn’t falter. His Aura enhanced his body, allowing him to block the orcs’ strikes without issue.

As Geinalt held them back, Marcy began chanting again. “Mana Arrow.”

A translucent arrow materialized in midair before flying forward, striking an orc in the head. The orc screamed and staggered backward.

Geinalt didn’t miss the opening. With a powerful shove of his shield, he sent the orc reeling, then drove his sword deep into its neck.

The orc gurgled before collapsing. Now, there was only one remaining, and Geinalt swiftly defeated it without trouble.

The battle was over. Ketal, watching from the back, was deeply moved.

Wow, so this is how a proper party fights! Ketal mused. The party he had fought with in the Barcan Estate hadn’t been anything like this. To be honest, there had been no teamwork to speak of.

Everyone simply did their own job, acting more like individuals than a unit. That was to be expected, considering most of them were strangers.

However, these people—this party— were different. They moved in perfect harmony, seamlessly supporting one another as they defeated the monsters. Each member compensated for the others’ weaknesses, covering every opening flawlessly.

Ketal found the sight incredibly moving.

More orcs appeared, but just like before, they were taken down without much trouble. Ketal remained at the back, watching intently, as if he didn’t want to miss a single moment.

And Geinalt could feel Ketal’s gaze. Why is he staring at us like that?

There was a burning passion in his gaze. At first, Geinalt wondered if Ketal was struggling to suppress his urge to fight. Having a battle-hungry barbarian lingering at his back was nerve-wracking. It felt like fighting with a starving beast lurking behind him.

And it wasn’t just Geinalt who felt that way—Marcy and Barak did as well. They tensed unnecessarily, keeping themselves on edge. Since their mental strain was high, their physical exhaustion came quicker.

After their fifth battle, Geinalt drank some water. “How far have we gone?”

“Judging by the distance... I’d say about halfway,” Barak estimated.

“Marcy, how’s your mana?”

“I’ll need to recover soon.”

“Then let’s take a short break here before moving on. Sounds good?” Geinalt glanced at Ketal as he spoke.

Ketal nodded. The party sat down and rested. Ketal, still filled with admiration, spoke up. “That was incredible. Your teamwork is perfect.”

“R-really?” Geinalt asked.

“Yes. There’s no wasted movement. You support each other flawlessly. It’s astonishing. This is a true party.” Ketal’s face was filled with genuine admiration.

Since it was sincere praise, Geinalt didn’t mind hearing it.

“From what you’re saying, I take it you’ve been in a party before?” Geinalt asked.

“A few times. But we never worked together like this. Everyone simply performed their own roles.”

“Ah, so you were in a temporary party. That makes sense. It’s not easy for strangers to coordinate well.”

“Are you all part of a fixed party?”

“No, but we’ve worked together multiple times. Each time, we adjusted and refined our teamwork. It’s not perfect, but for a temporary party, I’d say we’re as good as it gets.”

“I see. So it’s built on mutual trust. It’s impressive,” Ketal remarked.

“Yeah, I guess.” Geinalt hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t expected a barbarian to talk about trust.

However, Ketal continued speaking. To Geinalt’s surprise, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Even when Ketal rambled about trivial things, he responded naturally.

At some point, Geinalt almost forgot that Ketal was a barbarian. Before he realized it, he found himself asking, “Are you really a barbarian?”

“Hmm...” Instead of answering, Ketal countered with a question of his own. “Do I seem like one?”

“I’ve encountered barbarians a few times before. But none of them acted like you,” Geinalt responded.

“I see.”

“The fact that you passed the evaluation and entered the capital already proves you’re different. But that only makes it more confusing. You... you’re not from the northern barbarians, are you?” Geinalt asked.

“Are all barbarians from the north?”

Ketal’s question made Geinalt pause.

“Huh? You’re not from the north?” Geinalt asked again.

“I came from elsewhere.” Ketal’s expression turned thoughtful. “In fact, I was going to ask you about that. What are these northern barbarians like?”

“Uh...” Geinalt hesitated. For a brief moment, an image of the Ashen-haired Barbarian from the White Snowfield surfaced in his mind. He realized Ketal’s hair was also gray. And considering the conversation they had before entering the Dungeon, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of suspicion.

However, he quickly dismissed the thought. There is no way a barbarian from the White Snowfield would be here.

Clearing his mind, Geinalt began his explanation. “Barbarians primarily live in the north. They’ve built their own kingdom there, living self-sufficiently. Outsiders rarely enter, not that they want them to.”

Barbarians were notoriously isolated and hostile. They rejected even their own kind, let alone outsiders. Any form of exchange with them was difficult, if not outright impossible.

“It’s a closed-off region, though in a different way from the Empire. Every now and then, a barbarian crosses into our lands, but... it rarely ends well,” Geinalt continued. He clicked his tongue in frustration as his face twisted in disdain. “They’re a damn headache. If they want to stay shut in, they should just stay there instead of crawling out and causing trouble.”

Ketal took note of his reaction. Those barbarians sound just like the ones from the White Snowfield.

The severity might differ, but ignorance and stubbornness seemed to be universal traits among the barbarians.

I should keep my distance, Ketal noted.

“Still, things have been a little different lately. Apparently, a so-called Barbarian King has emerged and is keeping them in check,” Geinalt said.

“The King of the Barbarians?” A glint of interest flickered across Ketal’s face. “They have a king?”

“They didn’t before. But one appeared recently.”

“Managing those muscle-brained fools doesn’t sound easy.”

“Normally, it wouldn’t be. But even barbarians follow one law.”

Barbarians despised order and structure. However, there was one absolute rule they adhered to: Survival of the fittest.

The weak lost everything, and the strong took everything.

“The Barbarian King is powerful. Strong enough to make every single barbarian submit,” Geinalt explained. “Rumor has it he’s at the level of a Hero.”

“Really?” Ketal remarked. He had never seen a Hero before.

From what he had heard, they were beings incomparably stronger than Transcendents.

“He’s not just strong. He’s also intelligent. Apparently, he’s successfully leading and organizing the barbarians. Ever since he took control, there have been fewer incidents of barbarians causing trouble outside their territory. I don’t know all the details, but for us, that’s a good thing,” Geinalt said.

“I see.”

From what Geinalt described, the Barbarian King seemed quite different from the average barbarian. Not only was he immensely strong, but he was also reasonable—someone who could establish rules and even cooperate with outsiders.

“He must have a tough job,” Ketal muttered. Leading a horde of brutes sounded all too familiar. For some reason, Ketal felt a strange sense of kinship with the Barbarian King he had never met.

“But... you’re not from the north?” Geinalt asked once more.

“I don’t even know where that is.”

“Really?” Geinalt was momentarily puzzled. A barbarian from somewhere other than the north?

He had never heard of barbarians originating from anywhere else. The only exception might be the White Snowfield.

However, he had already ruled out that possibility.

So, there are barbarians outside the north as well? A place where civilized barbarians had gathered, perhaps? Geinalt wondered.

Now that he was certain Ketal wasn’t a northern barbarian, he felt more at ease. As if a weight had been lifted, he immediately started complaining about barbarians. And Ketal agreed with him.

“They’re idiots. Just being around them makes me feel like my brain cells are dying,” Geinalt said.

“Exactly! They’ll eat anything they pick up off the ground and end up poisoning themselves!” Marcy chimed in.

“Oh, so barbarians here also die competing over poisonous plants? That happens all the time,” Ketal said, reminiscing of what happened in the White Snowfield.

“Wait, what? No, that doesn’t—hold on, that’s just crazy. That’s not a barbarian; that’s just a lunatic,” Geinalt said.

Ketal fell silent as his expression darkened.

***

Once they had rested, they continued moving forward. More orcs appeared along the way, but they were dealt with swiftly.

Ketal was impressed. “As expected, you guys are fast. Your teamwork is impeccable. This is what a seasoned party looks like. No issues there at all.”

“Right?” Geinalt puffed out his chest, clearly pleased. He had heard the same praise before, but compliments never got old.

After a moment of hesitation, Ketal spoke. “I have a request. Would that be alright?”

“A request?” Geinalt raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead. I’ll consider it.”

He assumed Ketal was about to ask if he could join the battle. And he was prepared to allow it.

He really doesn’t feel like a barbarian, Geinalt thought.

Ketal was easy to talk to, didn’t cause trouble, and wasn’t disruptive in any way. If not for his appearance, Geinalt wouldn’t have even thought of him as a barbarian. He realized someone like this could work as a party member.

“Thanks for listening,” Ketal said with a bright smile. “Alright then, here’s my request.”

Geinalt nodded. “Go on.”

“Would it be alright if I gave you some advice?” Ketal said with a grin.