The Silent Barbarian

“Barkal, a barbarian wearing a skull helmet identical to yours has been discovered.”

Edmund wished to speak alone with him.

Following those words, they arrived at a place in the Steldian mansion that appeared to be a library, and there Edmund began to speak.

The one wearing the skull helmet.

At Edmund’s words, Barkal ran his hand over his own helmet.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Trying to respond to Edmund’s serious attitude, Barkal straightened his posture.

“The skull helmet is a symbol for a criminal in the Red Wolf Tribe. However, it has no meaning for other tribes.”

Barkal knew he was not a wise man, but even so, there were some things he understood.

Barbarians liked wearing something on their heads. More precisely, they loved the symbolism that showed who they were.

For that reason, Barkal thought it was always possible barbarians from other tribes might also wear a ‘skull helmet.’

“Well…”

Edmund trailed off.

“If this were just an ordinary case, I wouldn’t have bothered making such an arrangement.”

He rubbed the spot where Barkal had hit him earlier, as if it still hurt.

“The barbarian we’ve heard about… is an undead wearing a skull helmet.”

Thud──!

Barkal slammed the table and suddenly shot up from his seat.

His gaze was locked on Edmund. The anger glowing in his red eyes contained a complex mix of emotions.

“Did you run a background check?”

The fact that Edmund had only told him and no one else among the Dungeon God companions.

That detail allowed Barkal to quickly realize Edmund had investigated the Dungeon God.

“… Well, considering these people intend to exhume my father’s grave, background checks are to be expected.”

Though Barkal wanted nothing more than to grab Edmund by the collar over his somber words, he held himself back.

An undead.

A barbarian.

At that moment, only one person came to Barkal’s mind.

The reason he left the Red Wolf Tribe.

His older brother, Darsan Wolfroad.

“I wrote down the discovered location here.”

While Barkal’s mind was tangled in complicated thoughts, Edmund handed him a note.

“We didn’t see it in person either. We just heard from another Adventurer’s Guild’s report. It might not be perfectly accurate.”

Barkal simply stared at the note Edmund gave him.

* * *

First of all, after a brief conversation with Edmund, it was decided our wanted posters would be withdrawn.

Frankly, when Barkal started throwing punches again, I honestly thought he’d end up in jail for real—but we managed to get past that thanks to Edmund’s leniency.

After quite a few twists and turns, we made it back to Iushil, and our tasks became simple.

First, secure a place to sleep. Honestly, I hadn’t thought that deeply about this, either.

As naturally as ever, we headed to the Bearded Cat Inn and booked a room there.

“Now that you’re Silver rank, your income must be much better—don’t you think you could do better than this shabby inn?”

Hordi, the innkeeper, greeted us warmly.

“The path to wealth is to avoid unnecessary spending, Hordi.”

“Never thought I’d hear money management advice from a barbarian.”

Hordi laughed and offered a handshake. I accepted it and stepped inside to unpack.

Even Krunga, our horse, seemed used to the stables here, having stayed for quite some time.

“Hmm.”

After unpacking and heading downstairs, Hordi let out a short hum.

Then he quietly approached me and gestured at Barkal.

“Why is that noisy guy so quiet all of a sudden? Did something happen?”

Hordi seemed to notice something strange about Barkal.

So did I. Ever since Barkal spoke privately with Edmund, his whole demeanor had clearly changed.

He seemed a bit calmer.

“When he’s quiet like this, it feels as if something big has happened.”

“I think so too.”

“You didn’t ask him?”

At Hordi’s blunt question, I shook my head.

“Barkal has his own thoughts. If it’s something important, he’ll come to me.”

“… Thoughts, huh? He looked like the most thoughtless barbarian I’ve ever seen.”

Honestly, that is true.

“But you, you never seem like a barbarian no matter how many times I see you. Just your way of speaking.”

“In what way?”

“You know, barbarians are weird with distance. Next thing you know, they’re punching someone or hugging and bursting out laughing.”

I suppose I get it.

“Guys like that wouldn’t just leave someone who’s suddenly quiet alone.”

At Hordi’s words, I glanced at him.

Is he trying to say that I’m especially cold for a barbarian?

Well, what can I do? I’m really not a barbarian.

“Hmm.”

Still, I think I understand why Hordi brought this up.

Certainly.

Rather than waiting for Barkal to speak up, it might not be a bad idea to just ask him myself.

With his personality, if it’s something that could cause harm to me, he’s unlikely to mention it.

Better to ask and solve it than watch him suffer in silence.

But then again.

Would a barbarian even ever get sick from worry?

Maybe it’s best to just let Barkal speak up when he’s ready instead of meddling.

“U, uwak!”

While I was deep in thought, miriam ended up bumping into Barkal.

With a crash, her luggage tumbled down. Looking at it, miriam looked awkward and embarrassed.

Ordinarily, Barkal would’ve shouted, ‘Rat! Where are your eyes?!’

“Hmm.”

However, contrary to expectations, Barkal slowly began to help her pick up her things.

Without uttering a single ‘rat’ comment. That left Miriam just as bewildered.

“Am I going to die today or something?”

Even Miriam reacted like that to Barkal’s sudden kindness.

It snapped me out of my trance, too.

I don’t remember whether I’ve done a proper job as captain, but still, I was acting as leader of the adventurer party.

I should look after my members’ mental health.

* * *

“Counseling?”

When I called Barkal over and brought up the topic, he tilted his head.

“That’s right.”

“What counseling do you speak of, brother?”

“Barkal, my brother.”

I placed my hand on Barkal’s shoulder. Maybe he was a bit caught off guard by a gesture I’d never shown before, as he flinched slightly.

“If you’re worried, tell me. We’re comrades, of the same adventurer party.”

We’re both from the Red Wolf Tribe, aren’t we? Though, I’m a little different…

And it feels like that priest is targeting me, but… well, never mind that.

“Hmm.”

Barkal let out a short sigh. For a moment, silence lingered between us.

And then, before long, he started to speak.

“They say they discovered what’s believed to be the corpse of my brother, Darsan Wolfroad.”

As Barkal spoke gravely, I found myself focusing on him.

The reason Barkal left the Red Wolf Tribe.

His brother’s funeral.

He left to bury his brother, who had become undead, with his own hands.

“You heard this from Edmund?”

“Yes.”

“You’re well informed. Did you ever mention it to him?”

“No.”

So that means he did background research.

Damn you, Edmund.

Just how much do you care about us?

Anyway, this seems to be why Barkal’s feeling down.

“… Actually, I don’t particularly feel anything about finding Darsan’s corpse.”

What?

As if reading my thoughts, Barkal continued.

“Then why do you look so defeated?”

“I’m not defeated. I’ve just been thinking.”

Thinking.

Honestly, nothing could feel less like Barkal.

“A corpse is just a corpse. I don’t have any sentimental thoughts for the dead. But.”

Barkal trailed off for a moment, then spoke again.

“According to Edmund, the barbarian undead they found was wearing a skull helmet.”

Saying that, Barkal pointed to his own helmet.

Despite so many things that could have cracked it, the skull helmet remained pristine and unstained.

“This skull helmet is only worn by criminals of the Red Wolf Tribe. You know this, sage.”

“Hmm.”

This time, I let out a sigh.

If he’s asking whether I knew, well, I did not.

“For our family to end up wearing skull helmets, it’s because my brother Darsan committed the gravest crime.”

The greatest crime for a barbarian.

This, at least, I knew.

That is, killing one’s own kin.

“My brother Darsan killed our fellows and fled. Because of that crime, my father had to give up an eye, and our family was sentenced to wear these skull helmets for life.”

“Hm?”

But now that I think about it, something seems off.

I understand that Barkal had to wear the helmet because of Darsan’s crime.

But then why is the undead barbarian that Edmund found also wearing a skull helmet?

“The sequence is strange.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking, brother.”

Barkal’s voice was deadly serious. For the first time, there was an air of intelligence in his tone.

Still, it was important to organize my thoughts.

“There’s a chance that barbarian undead isn’t Darsan.”

“You’re right, brother.”

As if convinced by my words, Barkal nodded. But then, thumping his own chest with confidence, he declared,

“Still, my heart says it’s true. The barbarian Edmund spoke of is Darsan.”

“So if you’re right, then dead Darsan put on the skull helmet again, as an undead.”

At this point, I thought I understood what Barkal was troubled about.

“Undead who come back to life have no will of their own. If there is any, it’s what the necromancer gave them.”

For the undead, their old consciousness is essentially gone.

Like Dullahan Chunsik.

Only a new soul dwells in that body.

“Are you telling me you think Darsan still has his own will?”

As I finished, I could see Barkal’s eyes closing through the skull helmet.

—

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