Barbarian Quest-Chapter 72

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"It's tough to hide one's age," Ferzen muttered as he entered his personal tent. Despite his robust physique for an elder, his muscles and stamina were not what they once were. He felt himself weaken with each passing year.

"Sword Demon, Ferzen, ohoho.”

An old monster who was over seventy years of age. It was indeed a long life.

'I never thought I'd survive this long. How strange fate is.'

He had bid farewell to his comrades of youth and even served two masters who had passed before him.

Creak.

Ferzen stood straight, removing his chest plate as his joints screamed in pain.

"Ah, at this rate, I wonder if I'll even be able to mount a horse tomorrow."

He sat down stiffly on a chair, only relaxing after leaning back deeply.

"Phew."

Ferzen looked at his wrinkled hands through his blurry eyes. The fingers, gnarled and cold, bore indistinguishable scars and wrinkles. His nails, repeatedly broken and chipped, had grown back deformed. Due to his old injuries, some fingers lost the ability to feel pain.

'I can’t really hear through my left ear either.'

He dug out the accumulated pus from his left ear with his pinky finger. If not cleaned out regularly, his ear canal would fill with that pus.

Eeeee.

A dull sound rang in his ears. Sitting still brought on a dizziness that felt like drunkenness.

"Here we go again."

Ferzen closed his eyes, waiting for the vertigo to pass. Every part of his body was a testament to his fifty years of battle-worn life, ravaged by numerous injuries and shocks.

‘Look at me yearning for youth. Such an ugly thought.'

He recalled the memories of his prime. His physical prowess and battle experience had been at their peak, and he feared nothing. With a sword in hand, no enemy could intimidate him, and countless formidable foes had fallen before him.

"May I enter, General Ferzen?"

Someone lingered outside the tent. Ferzen took a deep breath, still feeling dizzy enough to vomit.

Ferzen was accustomed to enduring pain. He steadied his voice.

"I don't know who it is, but come in."

Outside the tent, the camp was bustling with preparations. A man emerged from the commotion and entered Ferzen's tent.

'A mercenary?'

Ferzen squinted at the man through his hazy eyes.

"My name is Donovan, the vice leader of Urich's Brotherhood."

"Pleasure, Donovan," Ferzen replied as he gestured toward the chair.

Creak.

Donovan sat down with a gentle smile. It was quite unlike him.

"So, what brings the vice leader of the mercenary squad to this old warrior?"

"You probably don’t remember me, General Ferzen, but I know you very well."

"Did I kill a family member or a brother of yours? I wouldn’t be surprised, given the grudges I've accumulated. Ohoho."

Ferzen's laugh was rusty.

"No. You saved my life, General. It was about ten years ago, toward the end of the Subjugation of the Remaining Barbarians. Do you recall the Battle of the Falkata Highlands?"

Donovan's voice became rigid as if the encounter with Ferzen had reminded his body of the old military habits.

"Falkata! That was a tough battle! Those cunning devils were waiting for us in the ambush. Many soldiers died. Were you there in that battle? I never thought I’d meet an old comrade here!" Ferzen exclaimed with joy.

"Yes, General, I was with the Sixth Infantry. I served under Sir Lumonde."

"Ah, Lumonde. Lumonde."

Ferzen repeated the name. He had crossed paths with many knights, so his aging memory was trying to grasp the past to pull out the memory of that name.

"Perhaps this might help you jog your memory; he died at the hands of a disobedient subordinate."

Ferzen clapped his hands.

"Lumonde, yes! A soldier from the Sixth Infantry started a mutiny. Lumonde tried to execute the insubordinate soldier but was instead killed by the mutineers. Did I get that right? Commander Killer Donovan."

Donovan smiled wryly.

"You haven’t changed a bit, General Ferzen."

"If we hadn't won at the Falkata battle, even I couldn't have saved you, regardless of the circumstances. Pardoning a soldier who killed his superior without punishment would lead to a breakdown in discipline."

"I couldn't say it then, but now I can say it openly. Lumonde was a madman. If we had charged as he commanded, the Sixth infantry would have been annihilated."

Donovan slapped his knee with a lively motion.

"Your judgment was completely accurate. The other infantry units suffered near annihilation. Waiting for the knights to join you was the correct decision." freew ebnov el

Ferzen and Donovan reminisced about the Falkata battle with pleasure.

"...Anyway, I wanted to come to you to express my gratitude. Thanks to you, I survived."

"It was a dishonorable discharge. And now you live as a mercenary, even a vice leader at that. Isn't that a decent success?"

"I used to be a gladiator. One thing led to another, and I became a mercenary, though it is a long story.”

"I like listening to stories. Just wait. I have some good wine here."

Ferzen pulled out a wine pouch and poured it into a cup. It was a fine wine. Donovan had never tasted such a luxurious drink before.

"This is great. Where should I start? Perhaps with how I became a gladiator in the first place."

Donovan began his lengthy tale. Ferzen leaned back, listening intently as Donovan's speech sped up with the alcohol’s influence.

"Then, in the city of Ankaira, I met Urich. A gladiator broker brought this naive barbarian Urich, claiming he was a rookie. But that guy fought disgustingly well. I used to be the face of the gladiator squad, but he grew so fast he threatened my position."

"Oho?"

Donovan continued with a tone half-filled with discontent.

"Then we were attacked by bandits, and Horus the broker was killed. Without a broker with connections in various cities, it would have been hard to keep a gladiator squad going, no matter how skilled we were. So, that's how I ended up in the mercenary business."

"You've had quite the journey. Have another drink. But tell me more about Urich. He's an extraordinary barbarian."

"Ha, what else is there to say? Haven't you seen him yourself?"

Donovan grinned; his teeth stained purple by the wine.

"He's simply a monster. You wouldn't believe the things he's done if I told you."

Donovan boasted proudly. After all, Urich was the leader of the mercenary squad he belonged to.

* * *

Urich jogged his memory. The oldest he could recall was of the plains.

It was a windy grassland where the grass grew low, and the parched earth was solid underfoot. Breathing in, the air felt rough against his airway. Young Urich wandered the plains without knowing his purpose in life or the reason for his existence, destined to become prey to wild beasts.

It was the adults from the Stone Axe tribe, out on a hunt, who picked up Urich. No one knew or cared why he was alone on the plains; it was common for children to be found wandering in the plains.

Urich was lucky. It was a rainy year, so there was plenty of food to eat. One more mouth to feed didn't hurt anyone.

‘You'll pull your weight soon enough.’

That was why they had taken him in. To the tribe, every adult male was precious. Tribal men were hunters and warriors. Taking in a boy who was close to manhood was a long-term benefit for the tribe.

‘Urich is strong.’

‘He handles the axe and bow as if they were extensions of himself.’

‘He'll be a mighty warrior.’

It didn’t take too long for Urich to stand out among his peers, excelling above all the other children.

He fought and hunted with his brothers from the tribe. It was a joyful time; even recalling those memories now seemed to bring the scent of grass to his nostrils. Urich sometimes longed for his home.

Someday, he would return. He had no intention of staying in the civilized world forever. He had a place to go back to.

‘The burning plains.’

It was an ominous future. Meeting the emperor only made that clearer.

‘Emperor Yanchinus is also searching for unknown worlds.’

What if the emperor learned of the world beyond the mountains?

"It’s obvious what he would do," Urich voiced out loud. That he had to prevent at all costs. His entire body trembled with the thought. He knew too well about the might of the Empire.

Step.

Urich stepped out of the tent. Outside, soldiers were organizing the camp. Armed soldiers shouted across the river, intimidating the other side.

“AHHHH!”

The soldiers beat their shields with their weapons, their morale was high. Across the river was the Porcana Kingdom's border gate, firmly closed. The command center was deciding on the next move.

Urich entered the command tent for the meeting. Pahell made room for him as he spotted Urich coming in.

"Foolish men! What kingdom stands in the way of its own prince!"

Phillion sighed deeply.

"It seems the nobles of Porcana are split between Duke Harmatti and Prince Varca."

One of the steel knights participating in the meeting noted.

"Ohoho. If they chose poorly, it could be the end of their lives and their families. Prince Varca, you do not have nearly enough esteem from them. Even after returning with the Empire's support, the nobles are still hesitant to take your side."

Ferzen commented. Pahell couldn't refute. Ferzen's words were true. If Pahell had cared to gain the nobles' favor in the past, things would have been much easier now.

"A messenger is coming from the other side."

A soldier entered the tent to report. Pahell nodded, interlocking his fingers in decision.

"Let them in. I, Varca Aneu Porcana, will greet them myself."

Pahell said, taking his place at the head of the table.

"I stand before Prince Varca, The Son of Porcana."

The messenger, who seemed to be of nobility, said with proper respect as he entered the command tent with two soldiers of his.

"Why is the Evelyn Gate barring my way? The border gate's garrisons exist to protect Porcana from external threats," Pahell reprimanded. The messenger bowed his head low, holding a silence for a moment.

"The Gate Captain of Evelyn says, 'Bringing foreign forces into Porcana's affairs is unwise,'" the messenger relayed, causing Pahell to click his tongue in irritation.

"That's not for a mere gate captain to decide. I am Porcana's sole rightful heir. I'm simply here to claim my rightful throne. These men are merely my escort."

"You must be aware that the nation’s situation is turbulent, all due to the sudden actions of Prince Varca yourself. If you could grant us just two days to organize our stance..."

The messenger’s words were cut short when Sword Demon Ferzen stepped forward.

“Hup."

Ferzen inhaled lightly, eyeing the messenger.

Deng.

Before anyone could stop him, Ferzen drew his sword and cleanly severed the messenger’s neck.

Spurt!

Blood gushed from the severed neck as the messenger's body toppled over.

"The messenger, he killed the messenger!" the soldiers who came with the messenger exclaimed, shocked and disoriented.

"Negotiations are for those on equal footing. That gate could be breached in less than half a day. That famous defense of Porcana? Fifty years ago, maybe! How many of those gate soldiers have even experienced a siege before? Ohoho," Ferzen chuckled, wiping his blade clean.

"That man killed the messenger! Prince Varca!" The soldiers protested, but Pahell only shook his head. The most knowledgeable person about war in this place was Ferzen, a legendary figure not even the emperor could contend with. Pahell remained silent, watching Ferzen's actions.

Ferzen kicked the severed head toward the soldiers.

"Take this head back to your so-called capable gate captain and tell him Sword Demon Ferzen has arrived."

The name Ferzen struck terror into the soldiers; their faces turned pale as if they had seen a ghost. They quickly retreated in panic.

Ferzen's method proved effective. Within an hour, the gate opened. The gate captain kneeled before Pahell, submitting to him.

"Henceforth, the Evelyn Gate will follow the kingdom's rightful heir, Prince Varca Aneu Porcana," the gate captain declared, offering his sword to Pahell. Pahell looked at the sword.

'It's not my legitimacy they're kneeling to. It's to Sword Demon Ferzen.'

With just one life, Ferzen had conquered the gate. It was practically a bloodless entry.

Urich watched the entire spectacle with his heart pounding. Ferzen was a dangerous man, but also impressive. A warmth surged through Urich's heart.

'Sword Demon Ferzen...'

The kindly old man was gone. Urich watched Ferzen not hesitating to strike the messenger.

The Sword Demon Ferzen had already positioned himself above everyone else's heads. He knew exactly how the enemies would react. He subdued them with solely his reputation and the fear he commanded.

‘So, that’s the old monster that spent his entire life on the battlefield?' Urich scoffed.

Pahell’s forces crossed into Porcana's borders, and word of it spread throughout the kingdom. The nobles were conflicted about whose side to take. The civil war for the throne had finally begun.