Chapter 9

009.

The Red Moon hung high in the sky, and we had just finished repelling the first wave of magical beasts.

The entrance to the canyon was piled high with the corpses of wolves, boars, and mutated black bears.

But instead of cheers of victory, silence hung in the air.

At the center of that silence stood Burta, chief of the Western Volcano Tribe.

“Why are you looking at me with such frightening eyes, little ones?”

He was wrapping a rope around the neck of the enormous black bear that was still alive.

Burta asked with a sinister smile.

The smile of a barbarian over two meters tall, drenched in blood, inspired a horror more chilling than any magical beast.

The young warriors of our tribe held their breath.

Zakan was the same.

Because we could not tell what he intended.

Moreover, the pressure radiating from the Volcano Tribe warriors lined up behind him was impossible to ignore.

When Zakan silently clenched the hilt of his greatsword, Burta snorted.

“Zakan, you have the eyes of a coward. We made a contract. I intend to receive the remaining 50 potatoes as well. You used your head cleverly. Was that idea from the mind of that young shaman?”

Burta’s gaze rested on me for a moment, but I did not avoid it either.

Zakan did not deny it.

Burta chuckled and gave the black bear a light shove. As though making one final desperate struggle, it roared and charged toward us.

“Graaaaargh-!”

But its claws stopped right in front of Zakan’s nose.

Because Burta yanked the rope and strangled it.

With a choking sound, the black bear tumbled across the ground.

“Why are you doing that?”

Unable to hold back, Zakan asked. A warrior was supposed to show respect even to enemies.

Burta clicked his tongue as he looked at the frowning Zakan.

“As expected, you are young. You need to learn from us. How to survive on the battlefield.”

I knew.

Burta was using what was commonly called a ‘trick,’ or what people in my world called a ‘strategy guide.’

“When the Red Moon rises, magical beasts come in three waves.”

He kindly began explaining.

“Usually, people kill all the magical beasts that come. But that is the wrong way. It is a trap.”

He was right. A wave did not end just because you killed all the magical beasts.

From midnight, when the Red Moon began, until sunrise at 6 in the morning, magical beast waves began every 2 hours for a total of 6 hours.

But even if you completely cleared the incoming wave, that was not the end.

Because according to the system, combat status persisted for 2 hours.

If you killed them quickly, the next force would simply respawn that much faster, or even stronger monsters would appear.

“The method is simple. Do not kill the last one. As long as that one does not die, no other magical beasts will come.”

Burta wrapped the rope around his wrist and puffed himself up proudly.

“If you keep the last one alive, you can rest for the remaining time. You preserve your strength and prepare for the next fight. This is the wisdom of adults.”

‘……As expected.’

I was impressed inwardly. He had accurately seen through the loophole in the system, exactly as I knew it.

And at the same time, I became curious.

‘How does that guy know this?’

Had his talk about learning from adults not been mere bluffing? Was this a survival instinct learned through experiencing countless Red Moons?

Then had the adults of our Rock Tribe not known this?

‘Anyway, it does not seem like he intends to attack us.’

He was diligently carrying out the contract in his own way.

Perhaps reassured, Zakan relaxed his tense expression and let out a tired sigh.

Malko, who had been listening, whispered to me with an utterly confused expression.

“What is he saying? Barbarian words difficult.”

Just…… don’t think about it.

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Thanks to the Volcano Tribe’s strength and tricks, the second wave also passed without major losses.

We had gotten plenty of rest, and the wounded had received emergency treatment.

It was already 4 in the morning.

Now all that remained was the third and final wave.

According to the rules of the game, the final wave always contained the boss-level creature of the region, in other words, a field boss.

‘And Burta will probably make his move now.’

I kept a close eye on the Volcano Tribe’s formation.

At last, I saw Burta secretly signal one of the warriors with his eyes.

The warrior nodded, then quietly slipped toward the rear of the formation.

Two more nimble-looking warriors joined him. A separate detachment of 3 in total.

‘What they intend to do is obvious.’

Using the chaos of the final battle to circle around behind the village and raid the warehouse, take the children hostage, or perhaps try to uncover the secret of the potatoes.

When I signaled Zakan with my eyes, he gave the slightest nod. It was the signal we had agreed on beforehand.

[The magic of the Red Moon has reached its critical point. The final wave begins.]

- Kieeeeeek!

A shriek that seemed capable of tearing apart eardrums shook the canyon.

This was different from the previous monsters that had shaken the ground.

This time, it came from the sky.

Above the black barrier. With the Red Moon at its back, a huge shadow glided downward.

[Third Wave Boss : Venomous Scorpion Wyvern]

Just as expected!

When it landed on the ground, a cloud of dust blocked our view.

Perhaps because it had absorbed too much of the Red Moon’s magic, it was a monster with abnormally swollen wings and a massive venom gland at the end of its tail.

“It is coming. Raise your shields!”

Burta shouted while lifting his axe, and the Volcano Tribe warriors formed a shield wall.

- Booooom!

When the wyvern slammed directly into the shield wall, the huge Volcano warriors were sent flying like bowling pins from the tremendous impact.

It glided low, sweeping across the ground.

“Grrrgh-! I’ll carve you apart!”

Something like transparent heat haze rose from Burta’s body as he swung his axe violently.

But the wyvern was cunning.

Just before Burta’s axe could reach it, the creature twisted its body at a bizarre angle to avoid the attack while whipping its tail around like a lash.

- Splaash!

“Graaaagh!”

As venom sprayed through the air, the Volcano Tribe warriors screamed and retreated.

Leather armor and skin touched by the venom began to burn away, and their formation collapsed in an instant.

Even amid that chaos, the three members of the separate detachment I had noticed earlier slipped into the darkness.

Using the moment when the wyvern’s attention was focused on Burta, they were quickly moving toward the fence on the outskirts of the village.

‘Sorry, but your thinking is wrong.’

This wyvern was not a simple beast, but a cunning hunter.

It had a habit of showing greater interest in weak prey that left the group and exposed its back than in strong enemies that challenged it directly.

The wyvern’s vertically slit, snake-like pupils moved past Burta and caught sight of the separate detachment moving toward the village.

“Kieeeek!”

It changed direction, ignored Burta, and began charging toward the village at tremendous speed.

It was the moment I had been waiting for.

“Uh……?”

Burta shouted in confusion, but it was already too late.

The wyvern was charging to pounce on the separate detachment.

And toward our village behind them.

“Malko. Guard the front of the cave as I told you. Do not move.”

“Understood! BARBARIAAAAN!”

I had expected this, so I had explained it to the kids over and over again and warned them repeatedly.

Even if the boss monster charged at them, they must never get excited and rush out, but protect the cave.

Perhaps all my effort had not been wasted, because the inexperienced young barbarians who were easily excited faithfully formed their defensive formation.

After confirming that, I picked up a torch lying on the ground instead of my axe and shouted.

“Zakan! Let’s go!”

Zakan nodded and ran after me as I sprinted forward.

The Volcano Tribe’s separate detachment had gone pale upon seeing the enormous monster bearing down on them.

- Boom! Boom! Boom!

The wyvern closed the distance. As I ran, I shouted to Zakan.

“Do you remember! Zakan.”

I was out of breath, but I could not stop.

“I remember!”

He ran beside me and answered with unwavering eyes.

‘Yes. Zakan can do it.’

Trusting him, I kept running.

This Venomous Scorpion Wyvern was nocturnal. It had a weakness to sudden, intense light.

I had killed it hundreds of times before, so its pattern formed clearly in my mind.

‘The problem is that this is reality.’

Fear suddenly seized me, but my barbarian body faithfully kept running toward the wyvern.

“Graaaaargh-!”

Burta’s warrior fiercely resisted the venomous wyvern’s attack, but it was hopeless.

Just as the wyvern opened its mouth to swallow one of the detachment members.

“Over here!”

I rushed toward its flank, shouting at the top of my lungs and waving my arms.

When the wyvern turned its head toward me, its yellow eyes stared directly at me.

Gulp- I swallowed dryly. But let’s trust my Strength of 25.

I pretended to throw the torch I was holding into its face, and the moment it tried to dodge its head, I hurled my axe with all my strength.

“BARBARIAAAAN-!”

For some reason, the same roar as theirs burst from my mouth.

My heart pounded with an inexplicable excitement and heat.

- Thud!

“Kieeeek-!”

The axe tore a wound across its forehead, and without missing the opening, I jumped.

Whoosh- When I kicked off the ground, my body soared unbelievably high.

Without even having time to be shocked by my insane physical ability, I raised the torch and scorched its eye.

“Kieeeeeek-!”

The creature writhed in pain and swept its forelegs around as though trying to cover its eyes. I quickly landed and rolled to the side.

Then, while dodging its wildly stomping feet, I screamed frantically.

“Zakan-!”

Zakan shot up from the darkness.

Wow…… his leap was beyond the range of a human being.

I stared blankly with my mouth open as Zakan flew in an arc over my head.

The greatsword in his hands flashed beneath the red moonlight.

“BARBARIAAAAN-!”

With that roar, Zakan’s blade accurately aimed for the weakness I had told him about, the soft, scaleless back of its neck.

A strike carrying his full body weight.

Slash-!

A horrible sound rang out.

With the sound of solid muscle and bone being sliced apart like tofu, the gigantic wyvern’s head separated from its body as though dancing through the air, then crashed to the ground.

- Boom.

Its body collapsed afterward. A single sword strike.

After landing, Zakan stared down at his own hands with an unmistakably shocked expression, even though he had done it himself.

Of course.

‘His Strength permanently increased by 1.’

A stat increase of 1 was enormous in this game.

The heat radiating from his body seemed almost tangible against my skin.

[The boss monster has been defeated.]

[The Red Moon magical beast wave has ended.]

At the system message that appeared at just the right moment, the breath I had been holding finally burst free.

It’s over. We survived!

That was when it happened.

“…….”

Burta and the Volcano Tribe warriors, who had hurried over late, appeared.

They stared blankly at the wyvern’s head rolling on the ground and at Zakan standing over it.

Zakan slowly turned his head and glared at Burta.

Covered from head to toe in the magical beast’s blood, the young chief’s eyes were more ferocious than those of any predator.

“This is different from the promise.”

Zakan’s voice sank low.

“We bought you. You agreed to protect us. But you failed to protect us.”

Burta opened his mouth, but had no excuse.

Because in the world of warriors, results were absolute.

He had failed.

His defensive line had been broken, he had lost his honor, and even the dirty scheme his subordinates had attempted had been exposed.

Burta’s face flushed red.

‘Surely he won’t get angry and suddenly attack us, right?’

Contrary to my worried expectation, he placed the axe he was holding on the ground.

“I am sorry.”

Then he bowed his head.

“We failed to keep our promise. To a warrior, a promise is honor. You are right. Today, Volcano failed.”

Boom-!

With a heavy sound, Burta knelt before the young chief.

“I will pay with my life.”

“Chief!”

The surrounding Volcano Tribe warriors were shaken, but Burta raised a hand to stop them.

Acknowledging defeat.

That was the final shred of pride he could preserve.

Burta, too, was a barbarian.

Tension filled the air.

When Zakan raised his greatsword, Burta closed his eyes as though prepared.

But Zakan strapped the greatsword onto his back and held out his hand.

“Stand up, Burta.”

“……?”

Burta raised his head with a puzzled expression.

“All barbarians are family. A family member’s mistake is not repaid with their life.”

Zakan’s calm voice echoed across the harsh wasteland.

“And…… I still have much to learn from you. That wisdom of adults. I need to learn more.”

Burta’s eyes widened.

After staring up at Zakan for a moment, Burta’s huge hand grasped the hand Zakan had offered.

“Thank you, Chief of the Rock Tribe.”

____________

Dawn was breaking.

The Red Moon receded, and faint blue light began illuminating the land.

On the Volcano Tribe’s way back, one of the warriors spoke.

“Chief. It is still not too late. If we go now and take the children hostage…….”

- Smack

Burta’s palm struck the warrior across the cheek.

“Silence.”

Burta glared with killing intent at the warrior who stared back at him in shock.

“Until now, I was not a warrior but a raider. I had grown accustomed to cowardice while using survival as an excuse.”

But what about that young chief?

Burta remembered his own childhood.

There had once been a time when he, too, had been such an upright and prideful warrior.

“Today, I learned from those little ones. Barbarians do not learn only from adults. Adults also learn from children.”

Burta straightened his chest.

“From now on, the Rock Tribe is Volcano’s friend. If anyone touches them, I, Burta of Volcano, will not let it go.”

His declaration echoed through the canyon on the dawn wind.

Although he himself had failed today, Burta felt strangely pleased at the thought of what kind of history that young chief and shaman might write.

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And a little while later.

The encampment of the Western Volcano Tribe.

Silence filled a barracks located some distance from its center.

Karga, second-in-command of the Volcano Tribe, sat deeply reclined in a chair carved from animal bone.

“So the chief knelt before that bloodling?”

Before him stood a warrior whose cheek was swollen dark red.

“That is right. He bowed his head and admitted defeat to that young chief. He said the Rock Tribe is now our brother.”

“Brother.”

The corner of Karga’s mouth twisted upward.

Brothers, in the barbarian world ruled by strength. Friends!

Such words were nothing more than cowardly excuses used by the weak.

“Burta failed. He is old now.”

Karga slowly rose from his seat.

“Burta, once strong, has now become a dull blade. He knelt before an enemy and failed even to bring back the potatoes promised to our starving tribe. He is a failed warrior.”

Karga stroked the axe strapped to his back.

“A dulled blade must be sharpened anew. No, it must be broken, and an entirely new sword must be taken up.”

In the darkness, Karga’s eyes gleamed with greed.