Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

I left early in the morning for the royal capital, Karnohn, but my investiture ceremony wasn’t scheduled until much later. It wasn’t just my promotion being celebrated today, after all. Wondering when the hell I’d finally be able to go home, I memorized the event schedule the royal family had sent in advance.

‘First period… was the headmaster’s speech, right?’

Once all the nobles were seated, Duke Kealurnus—who would officially be taking office today as Chancellor—stepped up to the podium and began his speech.

“Nia Lafdonia! Infinite glory and boundless future to this great city!”

He opened with a powerful salute and cheer, and it was immediately obvious he’d rehearsed it a lot. As far as I knew, Duke Kealurnus had never served in the military. He usually spoke in a quiet, calm tone. His house was a scholarly one, producing mostly mages and academics.

‘Well, now they’ve produced a Chancellor too, I guess.’

His opening was impressive enough, but the rest of his speech was the usual formula.

“The wicked traitors coveted these eternal walls, but we held firm…”

He condemned Noark, honored the fallen, praised those who fought, and finally gave all glory back to the royal family. That dragged on for about an hour, marking the end of first period.

Second period was the succession ceremony.

“Let it be known. Your young blood is the future of this city!”

Heirs who had inherited their family titles during the war stepped forward one by one to be officially recognized. Honestly, this part was boring—but also a bit shocking.

‘That many people died…?’

There were nearly two hundred heirs receiving formal succession.

“Ah! The future of House Lumina stands before us! I, on behalf of the royal family «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» of Lafdonia, recognize the succession of Count Metheia Lumina.”

“Haha, that little prodigy’s already grown into a man. I, on behalf of the royal family of Lafdonia…”

Duke Kealurnus kept the process moving as fast as he could, tossing out brief, factory-line acknowledgments. But it still took forever.

It was a grind to watch, but the other nobles seemed to be having a different experience.

“Tsk tsk, that hedonistic brat inheriting the title… House Bolshe is doomed.”

“Same with the House of Verton. Even if the only heir is a baby, giving the title to some collateral branch bastard without even using a regent—”

“I heard the real heir has a disability, and that mongrel took advantage of it to force his own succession.”

“Outrageous! Even in chaotic times, that’s unthinkable!”

“No need to get upset. He’ll implode on his own. Most families are already cutting ties with Verton’s businesses.”

“True. No noble wants to associate with an ungrateful mutt like that.”

Old fogeys who had spent their whole lives doing noble stuff never stopped offering commentary—even as the ceremony dragged on. Strangely enough, they always seemed to know suspiciously detailed intel about the inner workings of other houses.

“It’s all young blood now.”

“A new era is upon us…”

“Who knows what the future holds…”

A few nobles sounded wistful, maybe hopeful, or maybe just resigned. But to me…

‘Even if it’s a generational shift, I doubt much is going to change.’

Even that famous Socrates guy complained about how disrespectful the youth were. In the end, it’s just a pissing contest between acorns.

“Thus concludes the succession ceremony. A banquet has been prepared, and we hope our esteemed guests will enjoy themselves!”

So the second period—which ran way longer than scheduled—finally ended, and we moved on to lunch. A court orchestra filled the hall with music while dancers performed elegantly.

Not that it made the food any more enjoyable.

“Baron, a pleasure to meet you. I am Metheia Pies. I trust the food is to your—”

“Behell—RAAAAAAH!!!”

“…Ahaha, sounds like you’re enjoying it very much…”

“Of course I am. You couldn’t possibly enjoy it for me, could you?”

“…Excuse me?”

“I’m eating. Go away.”

The whole time I was eating, nobles I didn’t even know kept trying to make conversation. Most of them were young nobles who had just inherited their titles.

‘There’s definitely a generation gap here…’

Maybe it was their age? Traditionally, titled nobles don’t like associating with someone like me—a non-human noble. Then again, maybe I’d just built up too much status for them to discriminate now.

“Haha, my young friend! How have you been? It would’ve been splendid if you’d attended the festival—”

Anyway, most of them were young, but not all. The usuals showed up too—like Count Alminus, who deposits his “friendship fee” regularly, and Count Perdehilt, who keeps trying to marry off his daughter.

Some nobles I’d previously met kept coming back to talk, so I had to pause eating and chat briefly.

Even the Rabbit Baron showed up.

“It’s been a while, Baron Yandel. Or… should I be calling you Viscount now?”

“…The ceremony hasn’t even happened yet. Anyway, long time no see, Baron Ririvia.”

We exchanged greetings like proper nobles, then when I made it obvious I wanted to get back to eating, he got all deflated and stepped away—mumbling something pretty pathetic.

“Uh… Baron? You haven’t been attending Melbeth gatherings lately…”

“Been busy.”

“Ah… but you still find time to meet Count Alminus…”

“So what are you getting at?”

“P-Please don’t abandon Melbeth…”

“……”

“T-Then enjoy your meal…!”

I watched the Rabbit Baron scurry away, looking utterly pitiful, and was struck by a weird feeling.

‘Melbeth, huh…’

At first, I joined Melbeth for backing—to gain a foothold as a noble. It was the group that would support me the most. And it worked. But now…

‘It kind of feels like that troublesome little sibling you can’t bring yourself to abandon.’

Hard to explain, really… but as someone who’s also non-human, I guess I feel like I ought to help them out. It’s not like I haven’t benefited from them, after all.

‘I should probably attend the next meeting.’

I was chewing over that thought when the banquet ended and third period began.

For the record, third period was conducted by Count Alminus—not Duke Kealurnus. It was the Chancellor’s inauguration ceremony.

“Yaaawn…”

My stomach was full and I was half-dozing. At some point the ceremony ended, and then Duke Kealurnus—now officially Chancellor—took over again for the final segment.

We’d finally reached the fourth and last period of the day.

“It was a war that birthed countless heroes. Yet among them stood one whose achievements shone like a star.”

He recited my accomplishments one by one—the killing of the Corpse Collector, the battle against the Evil Eyes, and finally the elimination of the ultimate traitor, Marquis Tertherion.

As I listened backstage, I waited for my cue, then stepped onto the podium.

I’d done a promotion ceremony once before, but this time the format was different. It was far more streamlined. Last time, I’d gone from Junior Baron to Baron, officially joining the thousand noble houses. That one felt more like an induction than a promotion.

“…What are you doing? Pick up the box.”

Ah, right.

Snapped out of it, I followed the procedure as rehearsed—took the box, knelt on one knee, and presented it forward.

Then…

Ssssht.

The Duke removed the navy cloth covering the box and replaced it with a blue one. And just like that, the ceremony was over.

After that came the speech portion.

They hadn’t warned me about that part, but it wasn’t a problem. I could feel Duke Kealurnus’s gaze, like he was hoping I’d say something flattering.

‘What the hell do you expect from a barbarian?’

I ignored it and spoke with conviction.

As a barbarian warrior, standing before thousands of nobles, there was only one thing worth shouting.

“Behell—RAAAAAAAHH!!!”

I roared before a sea of nobility, but surprisingly, the response was lukewarm. No—indifferent.

“There he goes again.”

“I knew he’d do that the moment they asked for a speech.”

“Nothing surprising at this point.”

No one clicked their tongue. No one muttered about barbarian manners. Not even one noble complained.

Then why did I feel so… disappointed?

I didn’t know, and I didn’t need to.

“…If you’re done, please step down.”

“Got it.”

And just like that, I became Viscount Yandel.

***

「Character Fame +10.」

「Character Fame +10.」

「Character Fame +10.」

「Character Fame +10…」

「……」

***

Even though my rank had risen from Baron to Viscount, my daily life hadn’t changed.

The difference between a baron and a viscount was stuff like the number of private soldiers you could command—but House Yandel didn’t even have private soldiers. All I gained was a bit more honor.

‘Maybe things change more at the count or marquis level?’

Probably. They say benefits ramp up from count onward. Still, even then, I doubt things would change dramatically. At best, I’d be able to build something like the Melbeth group.

‘Back to work.’

Once the ceremony ended, I jumped right back into daily life. I attended Melbeth meetings and had lunch with Chancellor Kealurnus, where we exchanged plenty of information.

Now that he was Chancellor, he seemed eager to maintain a good relationship with me. I felt the same—being friendly with the Chancellor meant access to top-level intel.

Like the labyrinth opening date, which hadn’t even been shared with the Guild yet. How many explorers could enter, which clans were joining, whether the royal family would be involved—he told me all of it.

I’m sure he did it to win my favor, but still.

“The material damage inside the Sanctuary has mostly been repaired. Starting next month, warriors will be assigned to restore Districts 7 and 8.”

As before, Shabin Emure handled everything related to the Sanctuary. In fact, she seemed to be working even harder than before.

“Shabin Emure, are you getting any sleep…?”

“Don’t worry. I sleep a bit in the early mornings.”

“……”

Seeing her push herself like that made me worry. But forcing her to rest didn’t feel like the right solution.

‘Time will sort it out…’

At least thanks to Shabin handling all domestic affairs like a lunatic, I didn’t have to worry about administration.

So I devoted all my remaining time to preparing for the next expedition. I fine-tuned the route and kept calling the members together for drills.

And just like that, time passed quickly…

“Wow, how long has it been since we’ve gone into a labyrinth?”

Finally, the day arrived.