Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

Orculus (3)

Orculus (3)

I feel a chill run down my spine.

“Hey, why isn’t anyone saying anything?”

At that single sentence.

Even though we haven’t even properly clashed yet…

…a sense of urgency echoes in my ears.

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

My warrior’s heart, sensing a natural enemy, pumps relentlessly, sending oxygen throughout my body.

For the worst-case scenario that could happen.

Swoosh.

I move only my gaze to check on my companions amidst the suffocating silence.

They’re all frozen in place, mid-stride.

They must be feeling it too, right?

The ominous aura that he’s emanating.

“Hello?”

He frowns and speaks again.

Thanks to that, my mind calms down a bit.

Golden time.

It’s not the time to waste precious seconds that will become even more valuable from now on.

Therefore…

“Are you all really just going to stand there?”

I open my ears and stare at him with my eyes.

And in that state, I quickly combine the information I might have missed.

[Hey, barbarian. Shouldn’t you be thanking me? You were able to defeat him easily thanks to me.]

He knew about this space.

So as soon as he sensed our presence, he rushed towards the boss room.

But…

‘Even so, he’s too fast.’

To arrive almost at the same time as us, who obtained the map?

It’s impossible unless he found the way without getting lost.

How is this possible?

Or to be precise…

‘What skill is it?’

I need to find that out.

My plan will change depending on it.

Thinking back, there’s an answer in our previous conversation.

[If I hadn’t sacrificed one more arm, we might have missed you.]

He sacrificed an arm.

Whose arm is obvious. It must be the poor man behind him.

‘…A priest of Karui.’

There’s a priest of Karui among them.

It’s a blessing in disguise.

If he had just found his way using the scout’s ability, it would be hopeless…

[I beg of you. Please take what you want and let them go.]

…and the old man, who seems to be a priest of the evil god, doesn’t seem to be in a cooperative relationship with that man either.

‘Could it be that he kidnapped a priest and forcefully converted him? And that man who sacrificed his arm is in a similar situation?’

I have about three breaths’ worth of time.

After calmly analyzing the situation, I open my mouth.

Because there’s no time now.

“Well, whatever. Just give me everyth—”

“I never expected to meet explorers in a place like this.”

“So you’re not mute?”

He looks at me with an amused expression as I break the silence.

Okay, I’ve bought some time.

“Do you happen to know how to get out of here?”

I ask about something I already know, pretending to be clueless.

The more I seem like a pushover, the more he’ll let his guard down—

“You… what are you?”

A cold voice suddenly rings out.

What? What did I do wrong?

“Not even green, but yellow? Because of these pathetic bastards?”

His gaze is filled with wariness rather than interest or curiosity.

My eyes involuntarily move towards the ring on his finger.

It’s similar to a Numbered Item I know.

It’s the one I call the Traffic Light Ring, with green, red, and yellow jewels embedded in it.

No. 6111 Fate Tracker.

Green means a positive event is nearby.

Red means a negative event is nearby.

And yellow means a mixed event is nearby.

The yellow light on that item is shining brightly.

‘Damn it.’

Is this what they mean by mixed feelings?

The fact that the yellow light came on means that there was a chance for me to exploit his arrogance.

That’s good news for me.

The bad news is that he also knows it.

‘I’m screwed.’

My only advantage as a weakling, to exploit the strong when they’re careless…

…has disappeared.

Because of that damn ring.

“You seem to know what this is.”

To make matters worse, he even notices my brief reaction and reveals his true colors openly.

Swoosh!

A blue blade is drawn from his waist.

The former aspiring blacksmith’s mouth reacts first to the dazzling light.

“Th, that’s a sword made of Akro…”

Akro.

It’s a 6th-tier metal, practically the final stage in this world, that can easily cut through most Numbered Items.

That’s why I was hoping that there would be more enemies.

The higher the level of the explorer, the greater the difference in not just the grade and number of essences, but also in equipment.

‘At least 9th floor.’

However, I don’t avoid reality and accept the cruel truth as it is.

It’s not a clan with dozens of members.

Assuming his skills match his equipment, he’s a strong individual who can easily operate on the 9th floor with a 5-man team.

He must have at least eight essences.

And all of them 5th-grade or higher.

“Barbarian.”

At this point, stats or whatever are meaningless.

“Hand over the item you obtained inside.”

He’s at a level where he can easily wipe out all five of us without the help of a priest.

“If you don’t want to die.”

But I’ve made a judgment.

What I need to do to survive.

Therefore…

“Ah, are you talking about this?”

I take out the jewel I obtained from the boss room and hold it in my hand.

It was originally Plan D.

To give him everything he wants and beg for my life.

“You had it after all. Now, hand it over. Then I’ll let you live.”

“…….”

I stare at him silently.

As the silence drags on, my companions start speaking up one by one.

“…We’re fine. Just give it to him. We don’t even know what it’s for anyway.”

“I agree. It’s better to avoid fighting if possible.”

They’re not even worth listening to.

This jewel is the only reason we’re still alive. To make a deal with a lunatic who kidnapped a priest and converted him?

Say something that makes sense.

“My stomach…”

All eyes turn to me as I cautiously speak.

He’s also watching me silently.

I see a wicked smile on his lips.

An arrogant smile as if he already knows what choice I’ll make.

Therefore, I also grin.

“Oh, no! My stomach hurts!!”

“……What?”

The moment he’s flustered by my sudden shout…

…I shove the jewel into my mouth without hesitation.

And…

Gulp!

…I force myself to swallow it.

My esophagus stings as I force down a jewel the size of a tangerine, but whatever.

It’ll heal in a few seconds.

“Burp-”

I burp as I hold back the urge to vomit.

Only then does everyone come to their senses.

“What the hell did you just do?”

He asks with eyes gleaming with killing intent.

“I just felt like it!”

I answer.

A brief silence follows.

“…….”

“…….”

He looks at me as if I’m a complete idiot.

Hmm, my teammates aren’t much different, are they?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter.

To silently do what needs to be done, regardless of what others think…

…that’s the barbarian way.

“Barbarian, don’t think you’ll die easily.”

He pushes off the ground and lunges at me.

It’s a speed that’s hard to believe even with equal stats.

Swoosh!

As expected of an expensive item, his sword pierces my shield without any resistance.

His thoughts are obvious.

He’s planning to kill me, cut open my stomach, and take the jewel.

But…

‘So what? What’s he going to do about it?’

I punch my stomach with my fist the size of a watermelon.

Thwack! Thwack!

His eyes flinch every time I swing my hand.

I can see the fear on his face, worried that the item in my stomach might crack.

“Ah, my stomach is just feeling a bit bloated.”

“…You’re insane.”

It’s a welcome sound.

No one walks on fallen leaves in autumn to avoid stepping on them.

But what about filth?

You might accidentally step on it, but no one would intentionally do so.

Therefore…

Thwack!

…I stop punching my stomach.

The key to Plan E is to push the boundaries without actually crossing them.

It seems like the warning has been delivered sufficiently.

“What do you want?”

He tries to initiate a conversation.

He’s even sheathed his sword, as if he doesn’t want to provoke me.

‘Right, this item is that important to you.’

Although I want to tease him and mess with him…

…I move towards the opposite passage with my companions and get to the point.

“One day. Just give me one day.”

“You’re not asking for your life?”

He looks at me as if I’m strange.

It’s understandable.

Everyone who was in a similar situation must have begged him for their lives.

But…

“I don’t beg for my life like that.”

To be precise, I don’t do meaningless things.

“Just give me one day.”

A one-day reprieve.

I judged that this is the maximum he would allow.

“Then I won’t resort to these cowardly tactics.”

“How can I trust you?”

He asks briefly at my final offer, and I take out the card I prepared without a moment’s hesitation.

“I swear on my honor as a warrior. We haven’t slept properly for days and are exhausted. But if you just wait one day, I’ll fight you fair and square.”

As if that’s what I wanted to do from the beginning.

As if I didn’t want to resort to these cowardly tactics. He looks uncertain, but then asks quietly,

“Do you really think you can win?”

I chuckle.

Can I win?

Well, I still think the chances are slim.

But so what?

“Is that a reason to give up?”

I speak my mind without any acting.

He stares intently at my face.

And after a moment of silence, he finally answers,

“Twelve hours.”

His voice is firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

“I’ll give you twelve hours.”

It’s his bottom line.

“Just so you know, don’t think the same trick will work then.”

His eyes and expression clearly show that he won’t let us go, even if it means giving up the item.

Therefore, I let out the breath I’ve been holding back.

[05:40]

I obtained the thing I needed most…

…time.

___________________

We’re running through the labyrinth.

The formation is a bit different from usual.

Rotmiller and the dwarf are at the front, and I’m following them from the rear.

The reason is simple.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s following us.”

Although Rotmiller said that…

…who knows how long he’ll keep his promise?

I have to protect my own back.

“So what are we going to do now?”

Rotmiller asks as he leads the way.

No, it’s not just him.

“Bjorn… are you really going to fight?”

“It do, doesn’t seem like a good choice. You saw it too, didn’t you? How your shield was sliced through like mud.”

The pent-up questions and concerns are directed towards me.

They initially entrusted everything to me, but they’re starting to worry belatedly.

But democracy is over for today.

There’s no time to gather everyone’s opinions and persuade them.

“Hikurod, Misha, Rotmiller, Dwarkey.”

I call out their names.

And I ask,

“I might say or do things you don’t understand in the future. But can you trust me and follow me one last time?”

“Of course.”

The other three, except for Misha, don’t answer immediately.

But I wait silently, trusting in the image I’ve shown them over the past few months.

The dwarf is the first to speak.

“If it weren’t for you in the Crimson Fortress, I would be dead. I trust your judgment.”

The second is Dwarkey.

“I, I’m the same. Bjorn, I’ll trust in your hero’s destiny.”

Hero’s destiny.

It’s the speculation that was added as seasoning when my title, Little Balkan, spread throughout the city, and it’s also what the shaman told me.

It’s a bit strange coming from him, considering that he’s not just some random person…

Well, it’s a good thing in this situation.

“I could only tremble in fear when I encountered him. I couldn’t do anything.”

The last one is Rotmiller.

“I’ll trust and follow you no matter what you say.”

I can feel his deep trust in his brief words.

However, before I can even dwell on it, Rotmiller continues,

“But I have something to tell you, regardless of that.”

“What is it?”

“If my guess is correct, he’s a very dangerous person.”

“Do you have information?”

I ask back, my eyes widening, and Rotmiller answers,

“A long time ago, I heard about an explorer who used a sword made of Akro. According to rumors, he was cursed by a dragon and his entire body is covered in burns.”

No, so who is he?

Unlike me, who’s only more confused, it seems like the three of them already have a guess.

“Dragon’s curse? Don’t tell me…”

“Dragonslayer! Rotmiller, are you talking about the Dragonslayer?”

“Th, th, then that means he’s a member of Orculus…?”

I frown as I listen to their urgent cries.

I still don’t know who this Dragonslayer bastard is.

But…

‘Orculus.’

It’s an ancient word in this world that means ‘Witch’s Eye’.

I’ve already learned about the group that uses this name from books.

‘A gathering of lunatics who openly claim that their goal is to kill the King.’

However, they can’t just be dismissed as lunatics.

The fact that they’ve been around for decades despite doing such crazy things…

…proves the strength of each individual member.

They say that only seven of them have been killed so far, despite the huge bounty offered by the royal family?

‘I’ve gotten involved with someone much more troublesome than I thought.’

As I click my tongue in dismay, one thought becomes clearer.

Running away is not the best solution.

There’s a famous saying, isn’t there?

“So, what should we do?”

I take the map from Rotmiller and designate our destination.

“We’re going here.”

There’s no paradise where you run away to.

At least not this time.

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