Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

Chapter 312: Legacy (1)

Chapter 312: Legacy (1)

A high-class restaurant in the 7th District, known for its exquisite cuisine.

Arrua Raven had chosen this place for a long-awaited clan gathering.

It was her first time visiting this establishment.

Choosing a familiar spot would only bring back painful memories and worsen her mood.

"Aren't you going to order?"

"Not yet, not everyone's here."

Raven's curt reply made Avman shift uncomfortably in his seat.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

"Actually, everyone's here."

"...Misha said she wasn't coming. I was hoping she might change her mind, but if she hasn't come by now, she's not coming."

"...I see. So it's just the three of us."

Raven couldn't help but sigh.

Two more sighs followed, echoing her sentiment.

It was a somber atmosphere, understandable given the circumstances.

"Raven."

"Yes, Mr. Urikfrit?"

"Have you... contacted Erwen? Did you tell her about this?"

"Yes, I sent her a letter. I told her we needed to discuss the loot from the last expedition and... Yandel's legacy, so she should come."

She had sent the letter out of obligation, but she didn't expect the fairy to show up.

Not after the way she left last time.

"Did she reply?"

"No, she didn't. I'm planning to send her share of the loot and everything by mail once we're done here."

"...I see."

"It's a shame that Misha isn't coming either. I thought she would definitely be here since she's the most important person in this matter."

Raven sighed again, looking at Ainar.

And she cautiously asked,

"...How is Misha doing? Is she okay?"

She was genuinely worried about her.

The last time she saw Misha was at the royal family's funeral procession. They were too far apart to talk, and the atmosphere wasn't exactly conducive to conversation.

So how was she holding up?

"...How could she be okay? She's been cooped up in her room all day, not even eating properly. I forced her to eat once, and she threw up."

"I see..."

"I don't even go home much these days. She seems uncomfortable when I'm around."

"Then where are you staying, Ainar?"

"At the sanctuary. But she seems to eat at least something when I'm not there. I just bought a lot of food and left it at the house."

"...That's good to hear."

"Raven, what do you think? Should we just leave Misha alone?"

"That's..."

Raven drew from her own experience over the past month.

"She's not eating because of guilt, I think. You know, the act of eating itself... makes her uncomfortable..."

She rambled, unlike her usual self, but Ainar and Avman nodded in understanding.

"Ah, that's it."

"I think I understand. But what should we do?"

"...I don't know how to help her. Maybe she needs some time alone, but I'm not sure if that's the right answer."

"Well, you wouldn't know the answer."

Ainar's words, though not malicious, made Raven feel both frustrated and sad.

Ainar was right.

If he were here, he would have known what to do.

"Let's order first. We'll get kicked out if we just sit here."

Avman sensed the mood and changed the subject. Raven also moved on from the heavy topic and helped choose the food.

"This restaurant is new to me, but the food is delicious. Why aren't you eating?"

"Ah, yes..."

They ate and chatted while enjoying the meal, and then they moved on to business.

"There's no problem with the loot distribution. We just have to split it equally among the five of us. The problem is the inheritance... Did you all see Yandel's will?"

"Ah, I saw it. There was nothing in it except for how to distribute the inheritance. Well, it was just like him..."

Avman trailed off and chuckled.

And he cautiously brought up a question.

"But isn't it strange?"

"Strange? What do you mean?"

"The distribution ratio. To be honest, I don't understand why he chose to distribute it like this."

"Ah, you mean that..."

Raven nodded, her expression mirroring his sentiment.

She had also been surprised.

She never expected him to specify that the inheritance be divided equally among the five of them.

She assumed most of it would go to Misha and Ainar.

But Bjorn Yandel was different.

He didn't specify who got what, just the ratio. They would have to decide among themselves who got which item, but the ratio was fixed.

And the reason for that was probably...

"You're trailing off, so I guess you have a hunch?"

Raven smiled bitterly and replied,

"It's obvious, isn't it? Why he did that."

The clever barbarian warrior had wanted this.

For them to not resent each other after his death.

For them to continue supporting each other.

"...We can't just leave Misha alone like this."

Yes, that's what he would have wanted.

___________________

Three days after the community session.

Amelia and I, fully equipped, visited the clan house.

And we met a man there.

"Nice to meet you. You're Iron Mask, right?"

His nickname in Noark was 'Pelic Barker'.

He was the leader of the clan where the young Rainwales sisters were 'runners'.

The clan had thirteen members, if I remember correctly.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Iron Mask."

I had another nickname, 'Thor's son Bjorn', but I just introduced myself with my main nickname.

It wasn't a big deal.

Nicknames were often used as aliases in this city.

"Come in."

We followed him into the clan house, and the smell of alcohol hit us.

The interior was stylishly decorated, and the clan members, all rough-looking individuals, were sitting around drinking and smoking.

It didn't feel like a criminal hideout.

"Would you like a drink?"

Pelic Barker offered me a bottle of alcohol as soon as we sat down on the sofa.

"No, thank you."

Amelia flatly refused, but I accepted the bottle.

It would be strange if neither of us drank.

We were here to join their clan, after all. Refusing alcohol in this city meant you didn't trust the other person.

So...

Click.

I lifted the chin guard of my helmet and took a swig.

Pelic Barker grinned.

"Good, good. I like your style. Ah, but can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did you choose our clan?"

The answer was simple.

The Rainwales sisters were in this clan.

It was the best way to be near them when the incident happened five months later.

Of course, I couldn't say that.

"Emily said you were the ones who made the offer."

"But there are other good clans out there. Especially considering your reputation."

I gave him the answer I had prepared beforehand.

"A clan would be convenient, but I'd rather get a bigger share of the loot."

"You'd rather have the troll's head than the ogre's claw."

"Yeah, is there a problem with that?"

Pelic Barker stared at me intently, trying to gauge my intentions.

But it was futile.

I was wearing a full-face helmet, how could he possibly see my eyes?

I chuckled inwardly, and then...

"Ha! Hahahaha!"

He suddenly burst into laughter, his eyes gleaming.

Unlike Auril Gabis, he just seemed ridiculous.

Was he trying to act like some kind of mafia boss?

His voice even had a theatrical tone.

"Good, very good."

"What's so good about it?"

"I like you even more."

"So we're in?"

"Not yet."

Pelic Barker wagged his finger, acting like a mafia boss.

"We're a meritocracy. There are three ranks within the clan, excluding me, and the share of the loot is determined by your rank. But we don't know your skills yet."

"...?"

"Have you heard of the law of the jungle?"

"I have."

"Then this will be quick. If you want the troll's head, take it. And prove yourself. This is that kind of world—"

Ah, what was he going to say?

"I'll do it."

"...Huh?"

"You want to see if the rumors are true, right?"

"That's true, but..."

"Then it's settled. Why are you so talkative?"

I stood up abruptly, and Pelic Barker looked up at me with a startled expression.

Did he think I would back down if he acted tough?

I hate these kinds of side quests.

Skip them quickly.

"Just tell me. Should I kill you?"

"...Contests are only allowed between clan members. And you don't have to kill—"

Ah, how boring.

"Then who should I kill?"

I scanned the clan members.

One of them, a large man, flinched when our eyes met.

"It seems like he's my opponent."

"That's right. But you don't have to kill—"

Shut up, you're annoying.

I walked towards the large man with a murderous look, and he backed away, glancing at Pelic Barker.

A look of someone seeking salvation.

Pelic Barker finally snapped out of his daze and spoke.

"Wait! There's an empty lot behind us."

"Ah, we'll move there."

"And... you're not allowed to use abilities during the contest."

What? Seriously? No skills allowed?

He wanted us to fight with only our passive skills and base stats.

Was this the true spirit of Noark, a world of true men?

"Kill him without using abilities... Well, it doesn't seem that difficult."

I thought for a moment and then readily agreed.

But then...

Pelic Barker spoke in a barely audible voice.

"I'd prefer it if no one died..."

I was genuinely surprised.

"Then how can I get promoted?!"

"...Just get him to surrender."

"What? I don't have to kill him to get promoted?"

Isn't a bloody promotion battle the norm in these underground worlds?

And he was the one who talked about the law of the jungle earlier.

"What's going on? How is this possible?"

I stared at him, genuinely confused.

He looked back at me with a similar expression.

"You... haven't been in Noark for a month, have you?"

"So?"

"Never mind..."

Pelic Barker was the first to avert his gaze.

_____________________

A dark room with thick curtains covering the windows.

Misha Kaltstein sat up in bed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Another day had begun.

She peeked through the curtains to check if it was daytime and then collapsed back onto the bed.

Sleep wouldn't come.

Her body was covered in sweat from the nightmares that plagued her sleep.

And her stomach ached with hunger.

"...Ugh."

Misha dragged herself out of bed.

And she stood in front of Yandel's room, the door she hadn't touched since that day. It felt like he would be sleeping inside, waiting for her.

But she couldn't bring herself to open the door.

Thump.

She turned away, her heart heavy.

And she went downstairs.

The first floor was as dark as the second floor.

The curtains were drawn to block out the sunlight, a courtesy to the visitors who came to pay their respects.

Misha muttered in a dry voice,

"They came and went again..."

A note from Ainar was on the dining table, written in her messy handwriting. It said she had filled the pantry, so check it.

Click.

Misha opened the pantry.

Rye bread and vegetables, the ingredients she often used for cooking.

Meat and fruits.

It was filled with the things she used to enjoy.

But...

"Ugh..."

The sight made her nauseous.

She couldn't even stand the smell.

Bjorn loved rye bread.

And meat, of course.

She always bought extra vegetables because Bjorn was a picky eater, and she often ended up eating them herself.

Misha closed the pantry door, feeling like she was going to throw up.

But she knew she had to eat.

If she didn't, her body would give out.

And Yandel wouldn't want that.

"Bjorn..."

She sat down at the table in the dark kitchen, her body slumping.

She sobbed for a long time, and then she got up and walked back to the pantry.

At that moment...

"Oh, you're here? I thought no one was home."

A man's voice came from behind.

'A burglar?'

Misha grabbed a knife from the counter and turned around. Despite her disheveled appearance, her movements were surprisingly quick.

But...

"Whoa, whoa, easy there."

The stranger grabbed her wrist and easily disarmed her.

She struggled, but he was too strong.

"It's been a while, and you greet me with a knife?"

"Been a while...?"

Misha looked up at the stranger's face.

It was dark, but she could make out his features.

He looked familiar.

He was human.

His skin was pale, without a single scar, as if he had lived a sheltered life. His platinum blonde hair was neatly combed back.

And most importantly...

[Cat girl, are you a player?]

[Huh? Pl, player?]

[I'm asking if you're an evil spirit.]

[Ah, ah, no... I'm not...?]

His unique, lighthearted yet chilling tone.

She remembered him.

"You're... that guy from before...!"

"You remember me? I'm Lee Baekho. I'll let you go, so just stay calm."

"...!"

The man with the strange name, Lee Baekho, let go of her wrist as promised.

Misha rubbed her sore wrist and stepped back.

Lee Baekho smiled reassuringly.

"Don't be so scared."

A shiver ran down her spine.

His smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I just have one question for you."