Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 3: Barbarian of the White Snowfield ()

Glug.

A grotesque sound reached their ears. The mercenaries’ faces hardened as they drew their weapons and braced themselves.

“Hold.” The captain raised a hand, halting the mercenaries.

Through the harsh cold, a monster emerged. A mass of black, viscous slime came into view.

“Black Slime,” Milayna whispered, her voice tight with unease.

“Is that what you people call that monster?” Ketal asked.

“Yes, it’s a monster documented in our records.”

Many people had dared to cross the White Snowfield, though few survived. Among those who lived, some had documented the creatures they encountered, and Black Slime was among the most frequently noted.

“Are you familiar with it, Ketal?” Milayna asked.

“Of course. They are quite chewy and make for a decent snack.”

“You... eat them?” Milayna wondered if she had misheard, but Ketal’s expression remained perfectly serious.

“Would you care to try? I can fetch one for you.”

“N-no...” Milayna quickly shook her head.

Glug.

The Black Slime inched closer, its hostility clear, making the mercenaries’ nerves tense up.

“So, Ketal, about the Black Slime...,” Milayna said while turning to him.

Yet Ketal remained leaning casually against the carriage, eyes fixed on the window. His lack of intention to move startled Milayna.

“Ketal...?”

“I have entered into a contract with you to protect your life. But there is no need for me to intervene when it isn’t necessary,” Ketal said.

“Pardon?”

“Your men are more than sufficient for this task,” Then Ketal murmured quietly. “Besides, I want to see how strong the outside people are.”

***

Glug!

The Black Slime lunged forward.

“Shield up!” the captain yelled an order.

“Yes, sir!” A mercenary wielding a two-handed shield stepped forward with forceful resolve, grounding himself with strength in his legs and core as the Black Slime charged.

Thud!

“Ugh!” The shield-bearer was flung backward and rolled across the ground.

Another mercenary struck down at the Black Slime with his sword.

Clang!

“Argh!”

The recoil sent the sword flying back. The mercenary steadied himself, staring at his weapon in disbelief. The blade was chipped where it had struck the Black Slime.

“What is this...?”

Glug.

The Black Slime attacked again, forcing the mercenaries to dodge. The captain shouted out more orders.

“Black Slime can only move in a straight line! Circle around it and get ready to counterattack!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Don’t face it head-on! Deflect its attack!”

Following their captain’s orders, the mercenaries quickly adapted their formation, surrounding the creature.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

The shield-bearer was pushed back but managed to stay on his feet, twisting his body to absorb the Black Slime’s attack.

“Simple attacks won’t work! Aim for the core hidden somewhere inside!” the captain yelled.

“Understood!”

The mercenaries fought with all their might.

Around thirty minutes had passed.

“Hah!” The captain drove his sword deep into a tiny gap in the Black Slime.

Glug...

The Black Slime dissolved into a pool of goo.

They had won. The mercenaries erupted into cheers.

“We did it!”

“We won!”

Milayna clenched her fist inside the carriage, celebrating alongside them. They had defeated a formidable monster of the White Snowfield with their own strength. It was an undeniable victory.

Yet Ketal continued to observe with the same calm expression.

“I have a question,” he asked.

“Yes?”

“How strong are these mercenaries?”

“Um... they are quite skilled.”

Taking a job to enter the White Snowfield was no small feat; only those with the utmost confidence would dare to take on such a mission.

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“They are well-known across the continent,” Milayna replied.

“I see.” Ketal’s gaze turned contemplative.

They continued their journey, facing more monsters that occasionally blocked their path. The mercenaries fought with all their might, taking down each monster they encountered. They were not sure if it was luck or their abundant records, but the monsters they faced were all known entities. With their precise targeting of the monsters’ weaknesses and vital points, they managed to prevail more easily than expected.

“Is this it? The White Snowfield isn’t so bad after all!”

As the mercenaries gained confidence, their tension gradually eased. Advancing without a single casualty boosted their spirits.

“This isn't so tough. Don’t you think so, Captain?”

“Stay vigilant. We still have more than halfway to go.”

“But we haven’t faced any serious issues yet, right? Maybe the dangers of the White Snowfield are exaggerated,” one of the mercenaries voiced his skepticism. “No official expeditions have entered here since the Emperor’s legend, most due to caution and fear.”

The legend surrounding the Emperor was well-known, deterring even the most ambitious from challenging the snowfield. They knew that the danger of the White Snowfield was undeniable, but it seemed to be exaggerated. The mercenaries began to believe they were capable of conquering it. Their view of the barbarian began to shift as well—from a legendary being to just another weak barbarian.

“Don’t you guys think that guy is a bit annoying?” one of them muttered.

They had been forced to endure the harsh cold outside for the sake of vigilance. Without their magically-enhanced coats, they would have frozen to death long ago. Yet the barbarian rested comfortably inside the warm carriage. He even slept soundly in a spare carriage, never once lifting a finger in battle. Though the barbarian was contracted with the same employer, just as they were, his treatment was vastly different from theirs. He was being treated like a noble. It irked them to no end.

“Is he really that strong?” one of the mercenaries asked.

Their doubts grew stronger.

“I don’t think that barbarian is that strong. All this talk about legendary barbarians—maybe it’s all just tales. Maybe he is clinging to us for survival.”

Their doubts hardened into near-certainty.

“Enough,” the captain said. His terse command silenced the other mercenaries. “The employer made this decision. It’s not our place to interfere.”

“So you’re saying the employer has been fooled?” One of the mercenaries narrowed his eyes. “At the very least, shouldn’t we verify his skills?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The captain dismissed the idea, but the mercenaries’ dissatisfaction lingered.

Meanwhile, Ketal contentedly bit into an apple, seemingly oblivious to their mutterings.

“This apple is really good,” Ketal said.

“I’m glad it suits your taste,” the old man replied.

“Storing fresh fruit on such a long journey must be difficult. Did you preserve it with magic?”

“Yes...”

“Magic is truly remarkable.”

Ketal devoured the apple down to the core, leaving no trace. The old man beside him watched in a mix of awe and revulsion.

Ketal licked the juice from his fingers with satisfaction. It had been too long since he last tasted fresh fruit. After subsisting on monster meat, the sweet taste was refreshing. His desire to leave the snowfield grew stronger.

As if remembering something, Ketal spoke up, “There is something I’m curious about.”

“What is it?” Milayna asked.

“Your attire, your posture, and even your manner of speech—they all suggest you are more than a simple representative of a merchant family.”

Milayna’s clothing appeared simple at first glance, but upon closer look, its quality was unmistakably high.

Milayna nodded. “I am Milayna, daughter of Veliaqa, the second wife of Kesac Akash.”

“Your mother is a consort? So, you’re the daughter of a consort?”

“Yes. She married into the family for a political alliance, only to be discarded and stripped of any power.”

“I see.” Ketal nodded thoughtfully.

Milayna hesitated before continuing, “My mother and I... we are family in name only. In reality, we are little more than servants.”

She hadn’t intended to say so much, but Ketal’s seemingly detached interest encouraged her to keep speaking.

“Didn’t you mention your family is in decline?” Ketal asked.

“Yes. Aggressive competition from other merchant families has taken away our trade partners. At this rate, we will soon be ruined.”

Her father, the head of their family, had been paralyzed by fear and hesitated to act, ceding ground until ruin seemed inevitable.

“This trade mission is critical for our family’s survival,” she said.

Selling their weapons to the Kingdom embroiled in war would bring enough capital to revive their household.

“I see,” Ketal appeared to understand. “But one thing puzzles me. Even if you have no real power, you are still of noble blood. Was it truly necessary for you to undertake this journey personally?”

“This was my choice.”

“Yours?”

“Yes. Someone had to set an example by taking on the life-risking journey.”

“My lady.” The old man looked at Milayna with tear-filled eyes. Her act embodied the true spirit of noblesse.

“I see,” Ketal nodded. “You’re quite intelligent and ambitious.”

“What...?”

“And quite greedy too, might I add.”

“You fool! Who do you think you are?!” the old man yelled.

The old man failed to grasp Ketal’s words, but Milayna’s eyes widened.

“YouWait...” However, before Milayna could finish her sentence, there was a knock on the door.

Knock, knock.

The old man slowly rose to open it.

“What is it?” the old man asked.

“We have a message for the Lady.”

The mercenaries stood waiting outside.