Chapter – 40
Tracking an enemy commander who might be dead or alive was definitely an overly risky operation.
There could be a second enemy attack, or an ambush — leaving the fortress under such conditions was an extremely dangerous action.
But Bionsen was worth taking that risk.
At least, Carlisle thought so.
The scouts were half-blinded by their thirst for revenge.
“There’s a condition,” Helen said.
“Speak,” the other replied.
“Because this is a dangerous mission, don’t ever take unnecessary risks. I don’t want to see another scout die while avenging Derek.”
“I understand.”
Begman replied emphatically, as if to ease Helen’s worry.
“Private Carlisle.”
“Yes, Lady Helen.”
“Use that heir sword of yours to thoroughly guard the perimeter. With the heir sword you possess—” Helen cut herself off mid-sentence.
“No, I’ll trust you. Use that ability of yours to protect your comrades from threats you can’t see.”
“……!”
Carlisle was slightly surprised to hear Helen speak in a tone of acknowledgement.
Helen, who had always looked down on him, was saying something like that…?
“Hurry up and go. I don’t want to admit it, but right now what the scouts need is your ability.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Carlisle moved toward the scouts.
He let out a small laugh at a thought that popped into his head.
‘I never thought I’d be going to kill someone.’
This version of himself felt strange.
Until now, he had only fought enemies who attacked first to survive, but now he was trying to chase Bionsen down and kill him.
‘To survive in this world I guess I have to become that kind of person too,’ Carlisle thought as he left the fortress with the scouts.
The scouting party searched the area where Bionsen was expected to have crash-landed.
“Rookie?”
“Clear.”
Carlisle answered Begman’s question.
Grimungandr was quiet, so it seemed there were no barbarians lying in wait nearby.
Thanks to that, Carlisle and the scouts were able to proceed with their search at ease.
“Here.”
Kudo found a large crater and called the scattered scouts together.
The pit was clearly where Bionsen had fallen, and bloodstains were vivid.
“The rookie was right. If there’s no body, he isn’t dead.” Begman frowned.
“Here are footprints.”
Marder, a hunter skilled in tracking and reconnaissance, found tracks that appeared to belong to Bionsen.
“There are no other footprints nearby, so it seems he ran off alone without friendly aid.”
“Probably. This is a bit away from the barbarian camp.”
Begman nodded as if agreeing with Marder.
“If he’s alive he’ll try to rejoin his tribe. We should chase him down and avenge Derek before that.”
“Yes.”
The scouts answered in unison.
“This way.”
Marder led the scouts from the front.
A hunter who had tracked prey since childhood, he skillfully followed Bionsen’s trail.
But even Marder hit a snag.
“Darn.”
Marder made a troubled expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“The bloodstains have disappeared.”
“And the footprints?”
“Gone.”
In response to Begman’s question, Marder pointed at a footprint dug into the ground about ten centimeters deep.
“……Not a grasshopper.”
Begman grimaced.
Judging by the print, it was clearly the trace of [Thunder Leap].
“If you look at the print’s direction it seems this way, but the area is dense; we might not be able to follow the tracks. With the bloodstains gone, and without moonlight, further tracking will likely be impossible.”
“Damn it.”
Begman ground his teeth.
They had painstakingly gotten permission for this mission, and now they might lose Bionsen here…
“Why not just keep chasing him? If we let him go like this, Derek will never find peace even in death.”
Wilson snapped angrily.
“I want to, but we’ve already lost the trail. We can’t take on that risk.”
“Captain!”
“There’ll be another chance.”
Just then—
“If there’s a way to keep following him, I can do it.”
Carlisle stepped forward.
“A way?”
“The earth will tell us. Where he went.”
Carlisle shook the [Whisper of the Earth] bracelet on his left hand.
“Is that for real?”
“Have you seen how the fortress entrance turned to mud?”
“Ah!”
“With this bracelet we should be able to continue tracking him. My sword will warn us of any possible threats, so let’s push on a little further.”
Hum.
Begman hesitated after hearing Carlisle, then nodded.
“Fine, we’ll trust you.”
“All right.”
Carlisle immediately fed mana into the [Whisper of the Earth].
A shape of Bionsen made of earth seemed to appear, then it kicked off the ground and leapt.
The earth’s memory.
It was the same magic Evangeline had used at Carlisle’s trial.
“Let’s go.”
Carlisle moved in the direction the earthen image leapt.
“Rookie, lead the way. Think you can do it?”
“I’ll try.”
Normally Marder would lead the reconnaissance and act as vanguard, but in this situation Carlisle — the one who could use [Earth’s Memory] — took the lead.
“This way.”
Carlisle guided the scouts.
‘He probably didn’t go far. Thunder Leap can’t be used indefinitely.’
[Thunder Leap] consumed a tremendous amount of mana.
Bionsen had used [Thunder Leap] three times tonight, so by now his mana should be exhausted.
A four-star barbarian warrior could only cast [Thunder Leap] up to three times in quick succession.
Of course, that changes if one carries mana potions, but barbarians knew how to craft dyes from mana stones, not how to make potions—at least that was what Carlisle knew.
Thud!
Bionsen slumped against a massive tree.
“Huff, huff!”
He was panting heavily from running his hardest for nearly two hours; his breath was ragged.
“I almost died. Huff, huff.”
He muttered to himself as if in profound relief.
On the surface he looked fine.
Thanks to [Primeval Vitality], his wounds had healed.
The problem was his stamina.
He had spent so much energy on his regeneration that his physical strength had reached its limit.
Even a four-star barbarian with [Primeval Vitality] had clear limits.
Right now Bionsen honestly didn’t even have the strength to twitch a finger.
If he encountered continent folk — the enemy — he would be helpless.
“At least I survived. Huff, huff.”
Despite his exhaustion, Bionsen felt certain of his survival.
Why?
It was unlikely the enemy would chase him this far.
Besides, he had used his last [Thunder Leap] to confuse any trackers, right?
Even if they tried to follow him, it was highly unlikely they’d chase into such dense forest at this late hour.
‘I’ll rest a bit then return to the tribe.’
Bionsen took a jerky from a pouch at his waist to chew on—when suddenly—
Ssshhh!
An arrow flew and embedded itself where his head had been.
If he hadn’t reacted, it would have pierced his skull.
“Damn!”
Bionsen leapt up to run, but—
Poke!
Another arrow hit his right thigh.
“Guh!”
He grunted and sank to the ground.
Ssshhhk!
Poke!
A third arrow pierced his left knee joint.
“Goddamn it…!”
Bionsen tried to hobble away despite the pain, but no matter how tough a barbarian he was, there were limits.
Thud!
He collapsed in a disgraceful heap.
Even his thick thighs and calves could no longer hold him up.
From there, the arrows came without mercy.
Sshk, ssshk.
Thunk, thunk, poke, thunk… poke!
Bionsen was riddled with arrows in seconds.
He could not get up again.
He had no stamina or mana left to use [Primeval Vitality].
“That’s enough… stop… isn’t this enough…?” the hedgehog-like Bionsen gasped at the direction the arrows came from.
Slowly, members of his enemies—the scouts of Bowden Fortress—appeared, surrounding him.
“You bastard!”
An excited Wilson drew a dagger and approached Bionsen.
As always, he clearly intended to flay Bionsen’s scalp.
“Wait.”
Carlisle stepped in front of the incensed Wilson.
“Move aside, why?” Wilson snapped.
“I can’t let him go that easily.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We should do to him what he did to Derek.”
Carlisle pointed with his finger at something.
There stood a massive rock easily weighing hundreds of kilograms.
“Rock…?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell are you on about?”
“Have you already forgotten Derek’s death?”
“If you’re talking about Derek’s death… ah.”
Wilson understood Carlisle’s meaning and nodded.
How had Derek died?
He was crushed, wasn’t he, by Bionsen when Bionsen used [Thunder Leap]?
“Even if we kill him, it would be better to have him die the same way. That would satisfy Private Derek.”
“Hmm.”
Wilson stroked his chin, clearly troubled by Carlisle’s suggestion.
“The rookie is right.”
Begman also agreed.
“What do you all think?”
They nodded.
The scouts also agreed and nodded.
“Bring the rock.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The scouts worked together to lift the huge boulder.
“You… Sigmund?”
Bionsen looked straight at Carlisle and asked.
Though inexperienced, he thought the young soldier who had fought him evenly might be Sigmund.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”
Bionsen frowned at Carlisle’s ambiguous answer, but he didn’t give up.
“Young warrior… your name… cough! What is it…? My name is… Bionsen, son of Draktar… Tell me the name of the warrior who killed me. So in the hall of warriors… in Valhalla…”
Barbarians held their killer’s name in high regard.
They believed that the stronger and more renowned the slayer, the higher the status they achieved in the afterlife.
Absurdly, this belief even applied retroactively: if the soldier who killed you later became famous, that too could raise your status.
“Tell me your name.”
“I have no name worth telling to the likes of you.”
“……!”
“You’re deluded if you think you’ll go to Valhalla. You didn’t die fighting — you ran like a worm. You’ll be laughed at even in death. You won’t go to Valhalla; you won’t even be treated as a warrior among the dead.”
“….That’s cruel.”
“What else do you expect from the enemy? Thought I’d give you a peaceful death?”
“That is….”
“Die, just die.”
Boom!
The rock crushed Bionsen.
