Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

“It’s faster to just show you than explain.”

Astarotta said that and handed over a stack of documents without emotion.

The stack was fairly thick, but that was only natural. Nearly a thousand people had been present when the Urae struck.

‘Straightforward enough…’

The documents, apparently sourced from the royal intelligence agency, were neatly formatted from top to bottom.

No. 1: Keldun Nilteon.

Status: Deceased.

Notes: The body was not recovered, but there is highly credible eyewitness testimony.

Name, status, and a brief note.

And whenever the status read “deceased,” the word was printed in red, making the whole thing easy to scan at a glance.

Not that the clean formatting made reading it any more pleasant.

No. 17: Anthony Bolton.

Status: Deceased.

Notes: Body has been transferred to Morgue 7; belongings are in possession of a surviving clan member.

Sigh… This guy must’ve been one of those smaller clans who joined us from the Sanctuary…

No. 19: Gelta Fanun.

Status: Deceased.

Notes: Body was not recovered, but highly credible eyewitness testimony exists.

Every time the name of someone I actually knew appeared, not just recognized but had seen several times before, my heart lurched.

But…

Crunch—

They were under my responsibility, yes. But to be blunt, the [Record Stone] wouldn’t have called them “comrades” just because they died.

I kept flipping through the documents.

“Wait a minute, what’s this? It says ‘missing’ for their status.”

“Exactly as it reads.”

“Didn’t you just say everything had already been accounted for?”

“It means Intelligence hasn’t found them yet, so practically speaking, you can assume they’re dead. But since there’s no body or witness report, they’re still officially marked as missing.”

“……”

“And more importantly—aren’t there specific names you’re really looking for?”

Well, yeah.

Couldn’t deny that.

So I silently resumed reading, and before long, I found the names I truly wanted to confirm.

No. 119: Sven Parab.

Status: Alive.

Notes: Currently serving in the 7th Legion, 4th Wall garrison under mandatory duty.

‘Phew… so he made it.’

I’d heard he’d gone missing during the chaos, and that had me worried…

But then again, with that ridiculous sixth sense of his, it’d be weird if he did die when war broke out.

“…Was it your doing that he got placed in the 4th Wall garrison?”

I asked, having noticed the note.

The 4th Wall garrison’s jurisdiction was along the barrier adjoining Gnomtree. Technically an assignment, but in reality, more like being on standby.

“…Of course it was. Do you know how many are trying to get in there right now? I placed the others there too. They should all be doing fine together.”

“I see… thanks for that.”

When I offered a simple thank-you, Astarotta made a strange face I couldn’t quite read.

‘Uh…’

…Don’t tell me she’s embarrassed?

Thinking that made me feel a bit awkward too.

“Must be because of your pretty name. You’re so considerate.”

When I lightly joked, Astarotta clicked her tongue in displeasure, and with the atmosphere now lighter, I turned back to the documents.

No. 170: Meland Kaislan.

Alive.

No. 242: Riris Marone.

Alive.

No. 310: Ainard Prnelin.

Currently listed as “missing” since she only just arrived in the capital, but she’s alive. The ones who were with me don’t really need checking…

No. 381: Versil Gowland.

Alive.

No. 404: James Carla.

Dropped in the middle of the battlefield, arm severed, treatment delayed—declared irrecoverable…

Alive.

Grit.

At that point, I realized my jaw had tensed on its own.

And with good reason. Only two names remained whose fates I hadn’t confirmed.

Elwen and Misha.

The comrades who’d been with me since those earliest days, back when I was just a clueless Barbarian starting with nothing.

Slide.

As I hurriedly flipped through the pages, my fingertips started to tremble slightly.

Thump thump thump thump thump…

No matter how quietly I exhaled, my heart was pounding like mad.

No. 606: Misha Kalstein.

The moment I found the name, I held my breath for a second.

Status: Alive.

When I confirmed those black letters beneath her name, I let out a long breath.

‘She’s alive.’

But the moment of relief lasted only a heartbeat.

Slide, slide.

I flipped through the pages even faster now, scanning for the final name I needed to see.

And then…

No. 777: Elwen Fornaci di Tersia.

Status: Alive.

Notes: Currently serving in the 7th Legion, 4th Wall garrison under mandatory duty.

The moment I read her name, the strength drained from my body, starting from my fingertips.

She made it.

None of them died.

Overwhelmed by a wave of unmistakable joy—

“Then why that expression? They’re all alive.”

—I couldn’t smile.

Because one burning question filled my mind.

‘Why…’

Why are they all still alive?

Could the [Record Stone] have been wrong? Did I misunderstand something?

I don’t know.

But precisely because I don’t, a formless dread began to seep in—like smoke, fear crept into my thoughts and slowly began to take shape, drawn from the experiences buried deep in my subconscious.

‘Don’t tell me…’

…It’s not over yet?

The moment that thought brushed past my mind—

Knock knock knock.

A knock echoed through the room, and the royal knight who had guided me here stepped inside.

No evidence. No clues. Nothing concrete.

Yet human intuition has strange depth. The moment I saw that knight’s face, I felt suffocating dread.

And—

“What is it?”

Once again, my gut feeling hit the mark.

“An incident occurred within the 4th Wall garrison.”

“What kind of incident?”

“Well…”

“Bjorn Yandel is fine. /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Just report it quickly.”

The usually quiet and curt knight hesitated even after the order, but eventually began speaking.

“Two members of the Anabada Clan have been killed.”

…Goddamn it.

***

When I came to, I was sprinting down the boulevard of Karnohn, the capital. Even using psychic abilities—strictly forbidden within the city.

Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!

How long had I been running?

By the time I reached the western wall of Karnohn, which borders Noark’s territory, a knight who looked like a supervisor was waiting.

“…We were informed you’d be arriving. This way.”

Must’ve been Astarotta who gave the heads-up after I stormed off.

Doesn’t matter.

“Run.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I said don’t walk—run.”

His sluggish pace annoyed me, so I gave the order, and the knight who’d initially started leading on foot now broke into a run.

Following him, I arrived at a temporary tent.

There, gathered at the entrance, were my comrades.

“Yandel…?”

Meland Kaislan.

“…B-Bjorn?!”

A shocked-looking Misha.

“A-Ajussi!”

Elwen, Sven Parab, and others…

Their expressions were painfully complicated.

Normally, they would’ve rushed at me the moment they saw me, overjoyed.

But they stood there awkwardly frozen, unable to approach.

Tightly shut lips. Uncertain, restless gazes.

“Would you all step aside for a moment?”

I asked calmly, suppressing my emotions, and they silently made way.

“B-Bjorn, sir! We’re still in the middle of investigating the—”

What the hell is this bastard saying?

Thunk.

I lightly shoved the knight aside and stepped into the tent.

Slide.

Inside, it looked like a crime scene—disordered and grim. Near the entrance were two movable cots.

On each lay a figure covered head-to-toe with a white sheet…

“…It’s Sir Yandel. Stop work for now and step outside.”

The investigators, startled, complied with the knight’s order and filed out.

And then—

Whip—!

I pulled back the sheet on the left cot first.

I only uncovered it down to the upper torso, but that was enough.

The condition of the body was horrific.

One arm had been blown off and poorly healed, the head and neck completely separated. It looked like someone had just loosely pieced together parts of a doll.

“…James Carla.”

He’d joined our clan after bonding during the Icerock expedition.

We hadn’t spent as much time together as my original comrades, but he was so good-natured that everyone liked him.

Myself included.

“……”

I pulled the sheet back up and moved to the other cot.

And then—

Slide.

Slowly, I drew back the cloth, revealing a face pale and lifeless but unmistakable.

“Versil Gowland…”

We’d met at the Round Table wearing masks. Somehow, that strange fate had led her to become one of us.

She was from the same Earth, and her administrative skills were second only to Amelia’s, so I’d leaned on her a lot in running the clan.

That’s why I’d appointed her deputy leader before we left.

“……”

I stared down at her for a long time before finally replacing the sheet.

Perhaps that was the cue to speak—the knight, standing awkwardly nearby, began explaining.

“It appears to be an assassination. When first discovered, Sir James Carla was lying in bed. Given the neck wounds and blood evidence, experts believe he was killed in his sleep.”

Assassination…

The words didn’t even make me laugh bitterly.

Fuck, are you kidding me? I figured he’d die in battle, not like this.

“…And Versil Gowland?”

“The investigation isn’t complete, so there’s some disagreement among the team, but… the leading theory is that the assassin targeted Sir Carla, and Miss Gowland was tragically caught in the act.”

“…Caught in the act?”

“Yes. First, the tent was assigned to Sir Carla. Second, Miss Gowland’s body was found near the entrance. Third, there were traces of struggle on her and in the tent.”

“And what else should I know?”

“Well, the investigation is still ongoing, so…”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s not confirmed. Tell me everything you know so far. Call the investigators back in if you have to.”

Maybe it was the tone of my voice, but the knight didn’t argue. He complied, and I was briefed for a long while on everything—from recovered items to murder weapon analysis.

And then—

“That’s enough. Go about your duties.”

I left the tent and walked toward the wall.

My comrades asked where I was going, but I brushed them off, saying I needed to take a look around.

I needed time alone.

“……”

Wandering near the wall, I found a suitable rooftop and lay down, arms spread wide, staring up at the sky.

I did nothing, yet time kept flowing. The color of the sky gradually changed.

From gloomy gray, to patches of blue as the clouds parted briefly, then yellow, then red, as the sun set…

“……”

By the time the sun had fully gone and the sky turned pitch black—

A familiar voice called out from somewhere behind me.

“Hyung, you eaten yet?”

There was no need to guess.

I sat up and, instead of greeting him, glared coldly.

“What? Not surprised?”

I had a feeling he’d show up if I waited like this.

Given his personality, especially so.

“……”

I stared at him. He stared right back.

Ibaekho.

Truthfully, I’d had a lot of thoughts about this guy.

Yes, he was dangerous—but there were things I could use him for too.

He’d brought me closer to the secrets of this world. Hell, the reason I’d even been able to join the Round Table was because of him.

So I’d treated him like poison—swallowing the sweet parts, spitting out the bitter.

I believed that since he wanted something from me, he’d never cross the line.

If he didn’t come at me first, there was no need for me to strike him either.

But—

‘If that was my mistake, then so be it.’

Breaking the long silence, I finally asked him:

“Why did you kill them?”

No subject, but no confusion.

He paused, then smirked.

That smile told me, clearer than anything, how I needed to see him from now on.

“…So you figured it out after all?”

This bastard is my enemy.

My top-priority target.