Physical Respect

“The Adventurer’s Guild is trying to deceive us!”

Grunt suddenly drew his weapon. I tried to stop him.

Fortunately, he did not fully draw his weapon—the spear. Only about half of the handle.

That’s a relief. Even if he’s a barbarian, apparently he doesn’t just swing his weapon around without reason.

“Phew.”

Grunt stroked the spear he’d been about to draw and then let out a sigh.

“Consider yourself lucky! If not for my brothers, I wouldn’t have held back!”

That meant that if we weren’t present, he would have drawn his weapon. That was even scarier.

“What made you want to draw your weapon, brother?”

When I asked the reason for his commotion, Grunt showed us what he’d just shown the receptionist.

“This! Because of this!”

What Grunt was holding was a piece of white paper. I checked the paper Grunt handed over.

After reading it for a moment, I realized it was something like a “cheque” or a promissory note.

Where had he gotten this? Did he steal it, by any chance?

“It’s compensation money received by the Barbarian Respect Association!”

Compensation money?

I was confused at first, but soon realized the “compensation money”

Grunt referred to.

The “barbarian exploitation incident” that happened at the auction last time. This must be the compensation for that case.

“It’s written ‘Iushil Bank’.”

“I-I told you! You can exchange it at Iushil Bank…”

“Just like the receptionist said. This wasn’t issued by the guild.”

At my words, Grunt opened his eyes wide and peered at the paper.

He still seemed unable to tell the difference, his frown evident even through his Viking helmet, but eventually, he nodded.

“I don’t really get it, but all right for now. I trust my brother’s words.”

He tucked the paper back into his coat and gave us a wide grin.

“Though it’s late, it’s good to see you, brothers! What were you doing here?”

It did feel much too late for such a greeting, but whatever.

We explained to Grunt why we were at the Adventurer’s Guild.

We briefly recounted what happened in the underground, the rewards we’d received, and the fact that we were waiting for a companion named Serena.

“There was a mighty foe in the underground, you say?”

Of course, our barbarian didn’t hear any of the other things we had said.

He focused only on the word “mighty foe”.

“That’s right!”

“How strong was he?”

“None of us could inflict even a scratch!”

“… An unbelievable foe!”

“But our great sage, Dmihtan, made him back down!”

As Barkal pointed to me and said this, Grunt exclaimed, “Oho!” in awe.

Just as he said, only my “Blood-Colored Awl” managed to damage the Black Knight. But didn’t you miss seeing that scene?

“There was a small wound on the foe’s abdomen! Just the size of the dagger Dmihtan uses!”

To make that deduction… Could he possibly be smart? Given his usual actions, I doubted it.

“His dagger is imbued with Thrag’s blessing!”

“Incredible, Dmihtan!”

“I think so too, Dmihtan!!!”

“Great sage!!!”

Lately, I really feel this: shouldn’t barbarians keep at least a bit of distance from each other?

A sort of “barbarian distancing rule.”

“We too must strive to have Thrag’s blessing dwell in our weapons!!!”

“For honor! For Thrag!!!”

If more than one barbarian gathers, it gets extremely noisy. Especially if they’re from the same tribe, the noise multiplies.

Look at that.

Some adventurer party, annoyed by this commotion, is approaching.

Hey, could you guys quiet down a bit?

“Barbarian Dmihtan from the Dungeon God adventurer party, listen.”

From the approaching groups, an adventurer who seemed to be the leader stepped forward.

What? Me?

I waved my hands.

I’m not the barbarian who was making a scene.

Really, barbarian distancing is needed. This is clearly a misunderstanding.

I casually moved away from the two barbarians of the Red Wolf Tribe.

Even so, the adventurer was staring at me.

“It’s a misunderstanding. The ones making noise were these barbarians.”

The adventurer frowned at my words and then started talking to his companions.

“The small barbarian between the two big barbarians.”

“The barbarian named Dmihtan, that guy for sure.”

From their conversation, it seemed they weren’t here because of the noise, but because they were looking for me.

“Who are you people?”

“What business do you have with our brother?”

Seeing the approaching adventurers, Barkal and Grunt stepped forward.

The two mountain-like men intimidated the adventurers at first, but they quickly regained their composure.

Wait.

But something’s wrong… I don’t think these guys are adventurers.

Their outfits are matching, and their classes don’t look like those of ordinary “adventurers.”

In dungeon exploration, synergy between classes is crucial.

It’s important to combine various classes for “survival,” not to simply focus on “force.”

Well, who am I to say? Our own Dungeon God party is a crazy combination anyway.

In any case, these guys before us didn’t seem to care about party composition.

Frontline after frontline.

All melee classes.

And that’s when I noticed it. These guys are not adventurers.

Then why were they at the Adventurer’s Guild?

“Dmihtan of the Dungeon God adventurer party, we have business with you. Please come with us for a moment.”

“Tell us the reason.”

“We don’t know. You’ll get to hear it from the one who wants to speak with you in person.”

The one who wants to speak with me.

So these guys aren’t adventurers. They must be knights or bodyguards of some high-ranking noble.

“Steldian family?”

If I think of connections to me, that’s the only one.

“Steldian family? Where is that!”

“Barkal, that was the tribe of the man you defeated earlier.”

“Oh!”

Seemingly realizing why they came, Barkal gave a wide grin.

“You’ve come for revenge, have you! Good! I’ll accept at any time!”

“We haven’t come for revenge. We’ve come to talk.”

“Physical conversation? That’s good too!”

Barkal set down the axe strapped to his back, stretched, and approached. The knight, overawed by the intimidation, reflexively reached for the sword at his waist.

But he couldn’t quite draw it. Barkal grabbed the pommel with his rock-like thick hand, a look of displeasure on his face.

“How dare you try to use weapons in the middle of a physical conversation!”

“Unforgivable! This is an insult to barbarians!”

“Show us respect!”

The two shouted with immense, booming voices. It was clear what would happen next.

Grunt’s fist landed squarely on the face of the man who had drawn his weapon, and Barkal reached for the axe he’d set down.

“Y-you crazy barbarian bastards…!”

Seeing this, the knights all tried to draw their weapons at once.

Even more men rushed in from outside, drawn by the commotion.

One, two, three, ten.

An astounding number. It made me think even Barkal and Grunt might have a hard time with this many.

“You pretend to seek a physical conversation, then try to brandish weapons, and now you cowardly come at us in a mob!”

Despite being outnumbered, Barkal remained eager to fight. Grunt patted his shoulder and spoke up.

“Calm down, brother.”

“Are you frightened?”

“That’s not it.”

Grunt grinned and glanced at me.

“The sage spoke to us. If we want to be respected, we must also show respect to others.”

“Hmm.”

Barkal nodded.

“We show respect to our opponents! Though every one of us could face ten at once, we will respect their numerical superiority!”

It sounded odd—almost as if he was saying he’d back down because they were many.

Still, I thought this was for the best. If these people were really from the Steldian family, this would mean I’d offend a high-ranking person from Iushil twice in one day.

And they said they just wanted to talk. Considering what happened earlier, it wouldn’t be strange if they used guards to detain us.

Awkward as it felt, I thought it was a good decision for Grunt to back down.

“Therefore, to respect you all, we’ll match your numbers!”

Huh? What?

Suddenly Grunt pulled a horn from his coat. Taking a huge breath, he blew it with all his might.

BWOOO──!

A colossal horn sound rang out through the Adventurer’s Guild, loud enough to make you want to plug your ears.

What on earth…?

Before I could finish the thought, I heard the sound of feet stomping, getting closer.

“Uwaaaaah!”

“Barbarians! The barbarians are swarming in!”

The knights, who hadn’t yet entered, began to panic, their voices fading as, one after another, big figures started pouring into the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Responding to the Association’s call, the barbarians of the Earthclaw Tribe have arrived!”

“We’re here too!”

Barbarians stormed in.

Among them, I recognized some faces from the “auction.”

“Where is it that respect is needed!”

Where is respect needed, you ask?

It’s right under your feet now.

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