Chapter 214 |
The north was a blend of two religions.
The faith in Ulgaro, which had supported the north for ages, and Solarism that had crossed over from the empire. Warriors and knights, believers in different religions, had drawn their swords against each other, but it was the knights of the Sun who emerged victorious.
'The god who watches over the warriors lost the war.'
Even the last bastion, the sacred land of Mulin, fell into the hands of the empire. Ulgaro could not stop the Sun that crashed in like a tidal wave, and the people of the north declared their conversion one after another. They sought a stronger god and needed to believe in Lou in order to survive.
The empire's occupation wasn't entirely unfavorable for the north. Under the protection of the imperial army, traders moved freely. The northerners traded fur and wood for the food and supplies they needed. They were no longer barbarians and began to see themselves as part of the civilized world.
"We can't let the imperial army exploit us anymore. We're selling fur and wood at ridiculously low prices!" someone said.
And many northerners nodded in agreement, sharing the frustration over the unfair treatment. The conditions for rebellion were already there; it was just a matter of lighting the spark.
The northerners had never met the plunderers from the west, but they felt a deep sense of kinship with them. They were each other’s one and only comrade in their opposition against the empire.
In this turbulent time, a single rumor spread among the northerners.
The ones who spread that rumor were the Ulgaro fundamentalists. They claimed they were the true northerners, untainted by civilization.
"Do they think they'll get away with it after turning their backs on Ulgaro? Idiots."
"They're saying 'Lou will grant a kingdom to the northerners!' Hah, a kingdom? Says who?"
The fundamentalists despised the northerners who converted. They were those who did not accept Solarism in any way.
The fundamentalists were the minority among northerners, but the problem was that they were exceptionally skilled warriors. Most of them were veterans who had been hardened through countless battles, and they had even fought and survived the attack on Mulin.
"Our ancestors in the Field of Swords would laugh at us."
"Just where is the glory of warriors in the reincarnation of the Sun?"
The fundamentalists called themselves the true warriors of Ulgaro. They were searching for the descendant of Mijorn to gain the support of the other northerners.
‘Bilker, the grandson of Mijorn!'
The warriors finally found their hero's descendant. They tracked down Mijorn's tribe and successfully found his grandson, Bilker. Upon finding him, the warriors sent out their messengers all over the north to spread the news.
Crunch, crunch.
The descendant of the hero was munching on pork under the protection of the warriors.
"Take good care of Bilker, Krika," an old warrior said as he peeked inside the house.
There were two northern boys inside the house. One was Mijorn's grandson, Bilker, and the other was his guard, Krika.
Krika was tasked with guarding Mijorn because of their similarity in age.
'I can’t believe that pig is the descendant of Mijorn. I wonder how shocked the rest of the world will be,' Krika thought to himself.
"Hehe, Krika, do you want some?" Bilker asked, holding up a roasted hind leg of a pig.
"No, I'm good. If I get too full, I get sluggish.”
"Still, I like being full."
Bilker chugged water to clean his mouth before diving into more meat. His body, even generously described, was plump. He was actually quite obese.
'He was just skin and bones just half a year ago, but he ate so much... He's practically an actual pig, at this point.'
No matter how much he ate, Bilker was never satisfied. Perhaps it was because he had wandered for so long, unable to eat properly, that he was so gluttonous.
'He doesn’t even know how to wield a sword properly. I guess that’s not his fault since he grew up under his mother's care after his father died early.'
Krika shook his head.
But what Bilker was like was not a concern to the northern warriors at all. The fact that he was Mijorn's descendant was enough to garner the support of many.
"Oh, I'm full," Bilker said, lying back on the fur bed.
'Of course, you're full. You just ate an entire roasted hind leg by yourself.'
Krika stared at the dining table and then called a servant for the cleanup.
"Krika!"
An older warrior called out from outside. Warriors were gathered in groups, murmuring among themselves.
"What is it?"
"Bring Bilker. We have a visitor."
"A visitor?"
"Yes, do you know Yorcan the Giant, from Mulin?"
"Ah, yes. I've heard of him. But isn't he dead? Did he climb out of his grave, or something?"
"No, the man who killed that giant is here. He says he wants to see Bilker."
Krika nodded and went back inside. He shook Bilker to wake him.
"Wake up. We have a visitor."
"H-huh? Oh, okay."
Bilker woke up, wiping drool from his mouth. Krika pulled out armor and practically stuffed Bilker into it. He dressed him in chain mail and fit him with a helmet to make him look somewhat decent.
"Who did you say was here?"
"I don’t know his name, but they say he’s the man who killed Yorcan the Giant."
"D-doesn’t that mean he’s scary?"
"Probably. Apparently, he killed Yorcan in a duel over Ulgaro’s favor. He must be a warrior looked after by Ulgaro."
Krika murmured calmly. Unlike most northern boys, he followed the traditional path of a northern warrior.
Clink, clink.
Bilker, in his unfamiliar armor, made his way to the reception room. Urich and his entourage sat in the room.
"Hey, K-Krika, look at his face and arms. All those scars and burns…" Bilker whispered to Krika upon seeing Urich.
"Man, just act cool."
Krika, irritated, lightly pushed Bilker's back. Bilker tried to act casual as he sat in the reception room.
"I'm Urich," Urich said, standing up.
Krika responded in Bilker’s place, "This is Bilker, the last remaining Mijorn. If you are a northern warrior, please show some respect."
Urich scratched his head.
"I’m here as an equal, not as a subject."
Urich's words agitated the surrounding northern warriors.
"Watch your attitude, Urich. If you want to keep your head on your shoulders, that is!"
Urich snapped his fingers. The western warriors who accompanied him removed their hoods, revealing their faces.
"I am Urich of the West, chief of the Stone Axe Tribe, and leader of the army you call plunderers."
Urich disclosed his identity without hesitation. The murmuring grew louder.
"How can you prove it?"
"If you’re that desperate for proof, go to any city that’s occupied by the empire. You'll see my name on the wanted posters."
The northern warriors were surprised by the unexpected development.
'If what he says is true, he's a bigger deal than we thought.'
They were eventually going to ally with the western plunderers. It was great news that they had come to them first during a time like this.
"Please wait here, Urich."
The northern warriors left the room with Bilker.
Urich yawned after being left behind in the room. He spoke to Georg, who sat behind him.
"Georg, what do you think about this Bilker guy?"
"He seems too ordinary for a descendant of a legendary hero, does he not?"
"Haha, I think so too."
Even Georg could tell Bilker wasn't a warrior. In fact, he seemed rather weak, let alone warrior-like.
"So ‘Urich the son of Sven’ was a lie! You dared to lie before Ulgaro!"
Suddenly, a northern priest with a tattoo-covered face burst in, shouting. The warriors restrained the priest and escorted him out.
"He was never a northerner to begin with. Not that it matters at this point."
"An outsider proved himself as a warrior before Ulgaro. If anything, that gives him even more legitimacy."
The northern warriors debated how they should treat Urich. Bilker, caught in the middle, had absolutely no say.
"It seems that him being the plunderer from the west is true. Warriors who visited the city said they heard the imperial army asking around for someone named Urich. The checkpoints have become stricter, and they suspect it’s because of him. The warriors accompanying Urich have a strange vibe as well. They speak in a language we’ve never heard before."
"If they really are the western plunderers, have they come to form an alliance with us?"
“Judging by how they came to us instead of those heretics, the reputation of Mijorn must have done the job. This is all thanks to Bilker."
The warriors paid obligatory homage to Bilker. Bilker nodded with an unsettled look, feeling the mocking glances in the eyes of the warriors.
There was no mention in Ulgaro's teachings about protecting the weak. Bilker, unable to fulfill his role as a warrior, was considered a half-human. Becoming a warrior and protecting his family were the duties of men who lived in the north.
Krika glanced at Bilker.
"Bilker is being blatantly humiliated; it's his own fault. He doesn’t even train, ever."
Krika felt no pity for Bilker. He was also someone who took pride in being a man himself. Bilker, failing to meet his duty as a warrior, seemed contemptible.
‘So you’re going to take all this mockery just because you’re being fed well? You really are no different than a pig, Bilker.’
If a man is insulted, he should draw his weapon for a duel. That was the way of men. If society let every insult go, it would only be filled with people insulting one another. The only way people showed respect toward others was by knowing that doing otherwise would only lead to death. That was the society and law of northern warriors.
"Let's hold a feast to welcome them."
The warriors agreed. They decided to treat Urich as an honored guest.
Urich sensed the change in treatment and glanced sideways.
The warriors at Bilker's encampment numbered about a thousand. If a full-scale war broke out, several thousand more would likely gather.
"The northern population is larger than the westerners since it’s a semi-agricultural society. Cooperation with the north is an absolute necessity if we want to fight the empire."
The southern regions of the north had land suitable for agriculture during its short summer. Since it was a semi-agricultural society, residents along the northern border quickly embraced Solarism.
Urich opened his eyes slightly. He had no intention of ending this war half-heartedly. Emperor Yanchinus was also a man who saw things through to the end once he started.
"I've heard many stories about Mijorn. It's an honor to meet his descendant."
Urich sat across from Bilker at the feast. Krika, who was guarding Bilker, stood beside him, holding a spear.
"T-the honor is mine. I h-heard you fought and defeated Yorcan the Giant," Bilker stammered. Just being near Urich made him feel overwhelmed.
'This must be what they call a true hero.'
Bilker felt intimidated.
Urich's excellence was evident in his words and actions. His tone was rough but magnanimous, and his body was filled with scars proving his manliness. He was a warrior who would be respected no matter where he went.
'This man is no ordinary person.'
Krika, who was tasked with guarding Bilker, was extremely wary of Urich. He never let his guard down.
"Actually, I wanted to see the remains of the dragon in Mulin, so I posed as Sven's son to get inside."
Urich shared stories about himself. Some priests were angry at Urich for sneaking into Mulin by lying about his identity, but it was merely a minor issue to the warriors.
"Ulgaro acknowledged Urich. If Ulgaro had been angered by his actions, he would have died at the hands of Yorcan the Giant. Ulgaro favors skilled warriors!"
The older warriors raised their glasses high.
"We will take back Mulin someday! For our sacred land, here here!"
"Here here!"
"Blood and glory to Ulgaro!"
Urich also shouted and drank. The northern warriors didn't care about Urich's religion.
‘Ulgaro is an ethnic religion. Sven was like this, too. They hate northerners who betray Ulgaro. As long as you’re not their own people, they don't care whether you believe in Ulgaro or not.’
Urich, slightly tipsy, looked at Bilker. Bilker was stuffing himself with food and paid no attention to the alcohol.
"Have a drink, Bilker. I'm gonna pour it for you myself."
Urich poured a drink into Bilker's glass, and Bilker couldn’t refuse. Bilker’s face turned bright red since he seldom drank.
"Come on, let's enjoy ourselves. You are the man who will become the king of the north!"
When Urich said that, the northern warriors grew even more excited.
"The king of the north!"
"Mijorn’s bloodline!"
The northern warriors urged Bilker to accept Urich's glass. Bilker, again, could not refuse.
Bilker staggered from the alcohol as he tried to get up to go to the bathroom.
"Whoops, it seems like you’ve had one too many drinks, brother Bilker! Where's Bilker's quarters? I’ll carry him there on my back myself!"
Urich asked Krika with the hefty Bilker on his back. Krika, who hadn’t even touched a drop of the alcohol, quietly nodded.
"Let me guide you."
