Surviving the Game as a Barbarian Chapter 778: Month 13 (5)
What path should I follow?
Though the answer to that question eluded me still, I pressed on with my steps.
Not within the barbarian Sanctuary, but rather in one belonging to a different race.
Step after step.
On the surface, the buildings appeared similar to those elsewhere in the city, but their seamless blend with the natural surroundings infused the pathways with an alluring, foreign vibe.
Lifting one's gaze slightly revealed the enormous tree far off, pinpointing our location precisely.
Barharrium, the Sanctuary of the Fairies.
As expected, the festival season was in full swing here too—yet the mood differed greatly from what I knew.
The noise level remained high, fitting for any celebration, but it carried a sense of structure unlike before.
The accompanying tunes underscored this shift. While barbarians favored rhythmic drums and beats, here gentle, lively strings dominated the soundscape.
‘No brawls breaking out anywhere...’
Hmph, perhaps this stems from cultural variances?
Witnessing a festival of another race for the very first time held me captivated. For Elwen, however, strolling beside me, this scene likely felt routine.
“Ajusshi! Isn’t the scent here just wonderful, free from all that smoke?”
She appeared to appreciate the freshness more than the festivities themselves.
I shared her sentiment, to be honest.
“The air feels much purer indeed... but how do they achieve this?”
Back home, the whole city still carried the acrid smell from the blaze in District 8, even amid the ongoing events.
In District 5, daily purification spells were cast, yet the odor persisted stubbornly. Here, though, everything breathed clean and crisp.
Elwen gestured toward the towering tree in the distance.
“That’s all due to the Divine Tree. Most outsiders remain unaware, but it possesses cleansing abilities.”
Oh, yeah...
The lore’s details came back to me faintly.
“Enough gawking around. Head this way.”
“Eh? Didn’t we come for the festival?”
“Eh? For what reason? What fun is there in such a dull gathering...”
“So why are we even here?”
“Hurry up!”
Ignoring the query, Elwen hastened her stride, guiding me onward.
Being on the edges of the Sanctuary, we had to weave through the lively avenues for some time longer.
“...There’s the Bloodshade Marquis.”
“Who’s the fellow accompanying her?”
“Standing next to the Bloodshade Marquis... is that Baron Yandel?”
“He seems far too compact for the role, doesn’t he?”
Despite my reduced stature in the red ceremonial attire, eyes followed me with every movement.
Outsiders rarely ventured into the fairy Sanctuary anyway—but chiefly, my companion’s notoriety drew the stares.
“...What a treacherous sort of woman.”
“Rumors say she ditched her responsibilities and fled with a lover, despite undergoing the pureblood ritual.”
“Forsaking her clan like that—how dare she appear here...”
Overhearing snippets revealed the venom aimed straight at Elwen.
Betrayer. Viper. Shame upon her kin...
‘This explains her reluctance to return to the Sanctuary lately...’
The barbs assailed from all sides.
As I debated whether to ignore it all, Elwen gripped my sleeve lightly.
“Let’s move on...”
Sigh... Fine. If she’s enduring it, causing a fuss would seem out of place for me.
Swallowing my irritation, I sped up to match her rhythm.
Yet suddenly...
“Tsk, check that out.”
Who claimed fairies embodied honesty and innocence?
Who insisted they rose above base human spite?
Such notions rang hollow from this moment on.
Anyone feeding me that nonsense henceforth would face a swift fist to the mouth.
“Clinging to a man so shamelessly—like some harlot from the pleasure quarters—”
“Beheeeell—raaaaaaaaahhh!!!”
“......!!”
I swiftly dispelled the attire’s shrinking effect, triggered [Fusion] and [Giant Form], and unleashed a thunderous bellow.
「The character has used [Savage Eruption].」
「Threat Level temporarily increased 3x. Physical stats increase proportionally.」
[Savage Eruption]’s abrupt Threat Level spike.
The cry reverberated through the breeze like a lingering resonance, freezing everything within fifty meters—no creature stirred.
“......”
“......”
Scores of figures stood rigid, petrified as if the slightest motion invited doom.
Quite the twist, really.
No stunning ability or the like—just an amplified Threat Level.
‘If fear grips you this much, why provoke trouble to begin with?’
It puzzled me, but perhaps this too affirmed that fairies were ultimately “people.”
Luckily, dealing with crowds fell squarely under barbarian expertise.
Thud—!
Parting the immobile throng effortlessly, I neared a middle-aged fairy male, his complexion ashen as he gazed up in horror.
“U-um...”
He seemed eager to respond, yet terror sealed his words and movements.
I posed the question plainly.
“Repeat it.”
“......”
“What exactly did you utter about my friend moments ago?”
“......”
Silence from him.
Fortunate, that.
Had he echoed it, my fist might have flown first.
Observing his instinct for self-preservation, I offered some counsel.
“If longevity matters to you, seal those lips tight.”
“Y-yes, absolutely.”
He bobbed his head vigorously, as if grasping a rescue rope, concluding the brief confrontation.
“Ajusshi...”
Elwen drew near tentatively, clutching my sleeve anew and tugging softly to urge me forward.
Naturally, though...
“Blast it.”
“What’s he thinking, showing up like this?”
“Is such behavior tolerable in another’s Sanctuary?”
“Fools... Have they no thought for international relations...?”
Murmurs trailed us, as anticipated.
Did they expect another outburst from me?
“Ignore the chatter. Onward we go.”
“Mm.”
Allowing her to lead, I resembled a tough guy posturing for his sweetheart.
Yet regret? Not a trace.
Why should there be? They invited the response.
Speaking ill within reach of a barbarian guarantees repercussions—
“...Yet he shields her still. She must truly be his.”
“Bloodshade Marquis, is it? What draws her to such a brute...”
Urgh, curse it.
Tap.
Muttering silent apologies to Elwen, I halted and scanned the onlookers.
Instantly, the recent whispers ceased, and gazes darted away.
‘Her insults stem from my presence. I can’t simply depart.’
Decision made in a flash, I bellowed aloud.
“Hear me!! By every shred of honor I hold—I declare it now! Bjorn, son of Yandel, has never shared a bed with Elwen Fornaci di Tersia in that way!!”
Aiming to quell the rumors with my yell, I soon saw the need to correct myself.
In haste, I’d phrased it poorly.
“Wait—hold on! No, we have shared a bed, but nothing occurred! Purely rest! I vow upon my parents’ names!!”
A barbarian’s solemn pledge, bound to verity alone.
“......”
Er... so why the continued hush?
Too vague with ‘nothing occurred’?
Explicitness, however, might strike even me as crude...
“Er... uh...”
Briefly, summoning a puppet crossed my mind, but I dismissed it fast.
Opting for the backup instead.
“...Elwen remains untouched!!”
Admittedly, this carried flaws.
From a scientific standpoint, absent direct confirmation, dual possibilities might coexist in theory—
“L-likely...!!”
Yes. That ought to suffice.
***
“......”
“......”
Following that startling proclamation, quiet enveloped the lanes.
“L-let’s hurry...!”
Sensing I’d blundered badly, I seized Elwen’s wrist and drew her swiftly away.
Soon after—
“S-so, Elwen...? That wasn’t my intention exactly...”
“It’s alright. No need for justifications.”
“But still...”
“Truly. Don’t fret.”
Hmph. Is she sincerely unbothered?
With Misha or Amelia, I’d likely evade strikes by now.
Her voice betrayed no ire, yet...
“Truth be told, I appreciate it. You stood by me, right?”
“Well... yes, I suppose?”
“Then it’s fine. My ego took a slight hit, but otherwise.”
...Words failed me there.
Shifting topics promptly, I noted:
“Fewer folks in this area.”
Beyond the urban paths, we’d ventured into dense woodland.
“This zone serves neither homes nor trade. Festivals rarely draw crowds here.”
“Understood...”
“No issue. This was our aim all along. Ready?”
“Sure!”
Inside the timberline, Elwen eased her speed, turning our advance into a leisurely woodland ramble.
‘Come to think... what’s our actual goal here?’
The thought arose, but I voiced another query initially.
“Elwen?”
“Yes?”
“Does such treatment occur frequently?”
“That sort...? Often enough. The pureblood rite was mine, yet I’ve neglected clan duties...”
Got it.
Pressing further with a potentially sensitive point:
“Have voices called for your death, to transfer the rite elsewhere?”
“...I’ve encountered such words. Particularly now, with power so sought after. But rest easy. Owing to you, even Elders withhold direct rebukes.”
“I see...”
Her strained grin prompted reflection:
‘This matter demands resolution before escalation...’
Returning the rite proved impossible, naturally. Yet alternatives existed—perhaps aiding fairies in peril or balancing the scales through equivalent aid.
“Where precisely are we bound, though?”
“Nearly arrived.”
The endpoint remained unknown, but Elwen’s choice to bring me amid the hostility suggested strong purpose.
“Alright.”
Falling silent, I trailed her, absorbing the views.
Then—something odd caught my eye.
“This spot... more than mere woods, right?”
Halting, my observation drew an uneasy smile from Elwen.
“Oh... you caught on?”
“Magic arrays etched on trunks, yielding soil that hinders swift passage, overhead branches set for skyward protection. It’s fortified, yes?”
“Correct. For the present, at least.”
“...Presently?”
“Once a living quarter. But following a devastating incursion that razed the Sanctuary, they repurposed it.”
That one incursion.
No need to clarify.
The Dragonslayer event.
Reports indicated Elwen lost her parents then as well.
“Our family resided here once... It echoes the past, yet feels utterly altered.”
“T-truly?”
“...Hee. Enough melancholy—let’s proceed.”
Regret tinged my words’ revival, but they hung there now.
We ambled on calmly until arriving at last.
A modest dwelling by a tiny pool.
“This house was ours. My sister, myself, and our younger brother called it home. Though no longer for her or me.”
“So it stands vacant?”
“Not quite. Our brother dwells here still. In fact... I brought you for his sake...”
“Because of your sibling?”
From accounts, their bond strained.
Post-Daria’s passing and my disappearance, she forsook kin for vengeance.
Thus earning the Bloodshade Marquis title.
“I’ve dropped by sporadically since exiting Basement Level 1. Relations have mended somewhat... and he’s quite intrigued by you.”
Ah. It clicks.
“He suspects I’m some oddball, eh?”
“Sort of... Barbarian biases linger, sadly... My apologies.”
“No fault of yours. Blame lies with me.”
“...Pardon?”
“As kin to you, he’s kin to me. And I’ve delayed this visit till now. Is he within? Let’s enter.”
Regardless of his nature, meeting her brother was imperative—posthaste.
...Ere tales of the village uproar spread far.