Chapter 107

"How long was I out?"

Sven checked his equipment piece by piece. It seemed like he hadn’t lost anything while he was unconscious.

‘I’m a lucky man. I can’t believe it was Urich who found me.'

Anyone else, like a bandit or even another traveler, might have stolen his armory at the very least. If really unlucky, he could have been sold into slavery.

"I don't know how long you've been out. Anyway, how long have you been feeling ill?"

"The coughing started up when the civil war began. Never had a cold in my life, but then the coughing got worse, so I knew something was up, kehehe."

Sven let out a raspy laugh. It seemed like breathing was quite laborious for him.

"You think it’s terminal?" Urich asked as he poked around the campfire with a stick he found.

"Judging by the bloody cough, it seems my time is limited. I’m feeling less and less energy every day."

"Where are you trying to go in this condition?"

"Me? What about you? I thought you'd be enjoying yourself with booze and food in the Uscall territory by now."

"I really don't fancy indulgence... it makes my senses dull. Been there before."

Urich gazed at the dying fire, his eyelashes flickering.

"You are young, and time is on your side. No one would blame you for enjoying it a little bit. Cough."

Sven drank some liquor as soon as he woke up.

"Warriors don't die in order of age. Who can guarantee I have more time than you?"

"So, you left right away, just like that?"

"Yeah, I thought I’d head north for now. What about you, old man?"

"I was heading north too."

Sven looked northward. The sun was coming up, but the moon was still visible in the dawn sky still tinged with blue.

"What about your other northerners? Did they let a sick old man leave by himself?"

"In our culture, we leave our tribes quietly when death nears. There is no need to care for the sick."

"That's a bit cruel."

Urich spoke candidly. Back in the Stone Axe tribe, the people cared for the elderly as long as the resources allowed. But when a severe famine came around, the elderly left the tribe on their own.

"How far north are you going?"

"As far as my legs take me."

Sven laughed, offering Urich a drink from his leather flask.

"Kehaha! I wonder how far you’ll manage to go."

"What about you, gramps? Were you going to just die wandering? You won't get into the Field of Swords that way."

Sven hesitated. He was rambling, quite unlike himself.

"There was someone I wanted to see before dying. I never expected to have this opportunity. I really thought I'd die as a gladiator or mercenary. Perhaps old age or impending death brings these thoughts... "

"You have family. "

"... that’s right. My wife died of illness and my son in battle, but my daughter married into another clan. If she’s still alive, she'd be raising children by now."

"So, you’re going to go see your grandchildren?"

Sven coughed awkwardly and chose to remain silent. Perhaps, he was embarrassed as a warrior.

"Anyway, I'm heading north."

Urich watched Sven, scratching his head.

"Let's travel together for now. We’re going the same way, anyway, so might as well."

Sven didn’t have any reason to refuse. He didn’t show it, but he was also shocked by the fact that he collapsed out of nowhere.

‘I guess I’m not getting into the Field of Swords.’

There was no eternal rest for those who died of sickness.

Thump, thump, thump.

Sven eyed Urich's back. The grip of his hand on his axe tightened. He yearned to die by a great warrior's hand and reach the Field of Swords. It was truly a warrior's instinct and desire.

'Father.'

He heard a voice. His daughter's face was flashing before him. She was his last kin. Only now, when he was facing his death, he yearned to see her, a desire as strong as his warrior's instinct.

"Cough."

Sven coughed and swallowed the blood rising in his throat.

'At least until I see my daughter.'

Hoping his body would hold up, Sven looked up. He spotted his horse that had run away, leaving him behind. After preparing for their departure, he and Urich headed north.

* * *

Urich and Sven traveled together to the north with Sven sharing various stories along the way. The two barbarian warriors reached the lower northern territory without any trouble.

The north was a region of fear and conquest for the civilized. They had resisted the civilization’s invasion and retaliated for a decade. Most, if not all families in the empire had a son who was killed by a northerner in battle.

"In the deep, frozen lands of the north, there are still northern people who haven't succumbed to the Empire. This includes the sacred site."

"Sacred site?"

"It’s the tomb of Ulgaro, also known as 'Mulin'. It means 'cemetery' in the Northern language. I visited there once as a child on a pilgrimage with my father,” Sven said as he looked up with his calm eyes.

As the terrain sloped, Urich and Sven saw winding ridges and stopped their horses on top of one.

"It's white."

Urich said as he squinted against the harsh northern wind. He pulled his scarf up to his nose, his breath visible through it. The horizon from the ridge was stark white as if someone had drawn a white line marking the start of the northern lands.

"That’s the north over there. We must be at Yabhorn by now."

Sven smiled. He had finally returned to his homeland.

"I never thought I'd be back..."

Sven reined his horse and led the way to rush down the ridge. Urich followed.

Step, step.

There was enough snow on the ground for the horse hooves to sink into. The winter of the north didn’t allow its snow to melt. Once piled, the snow stayed until the beginning of summer.

The two men saw a castle wall in the distance. The snow had only melted along the road that people traveled on. People in fur coats glanced at Urich and Sven.

"Stop right there."

Imperial soldiers near the gate stopped Sven and Urich. Sven frowned, irked at being interrogated by the invaders in his own homeland.

"We're just on our way back home."

"You speak the empire's language well. Is he your son beside you?"

"He's a companion. We’re traveling together."

"Hmm. Both of you seem like warriors, are you planning to join Mulin? Where is your pass?"

"Since when do free men need a pass to travel? We should be free to go anywhere we want."

"You’re right, you can go anywhere for sure. But not inside the walls."

Sven's voice rose in anger, but the soldiers persisted. He continued to refuse their entry and insisted on asking numerous questions.

"Sven, we won't get in at this rate. Let's just go around the walls."

"We need supplies, Urich. You can’t wander the north without any preparation. Even our horses won't last."

Urich decided to stay silent. He understood that Sven knew the northern lands better than he ever could.

The northern lands that were under the reign of the empire were called the northern Imperial territory. Such territories were ruled by the viceroy and army that the empire appointed himself.

"This is annoying for us, too. You can’t just waltz over here and ask us to let you in just like that."

The imperial soldier whom they had been arguing with voiced his annoyance.

“Since when have you people been the rulers of this land? Why does a northern man need your permission to roam the northern land?”

As Sven growled, the expressions of the imperial soldiers changed. The soldiers on standby behind them reached for the hilt of their swords.

“Because you lost the war, that’s why,” the Imperial soldier snarked.

Sven’s hands trembled. It was taking everything he had to hold back the rage. There was no point in engaging in a fight here.

“Sven,” Urich calmly called Sven’s name as he looked around their surroundings. There wasn’t a single person who was going to help them.

“Let’s not cause a commotion here.”

A northerner hunter intervened Sven and the soldier. He was dressed quite warmly in his fur coat.

“I’m not trying to cause any trouble,” Sven replied.

“Why are you trying to get inside the walls?

“We have a long way to go, so we need supplies.”

“If that’s the case, just camp out here, and I’ll buy those for you and bring them to you. Just tell me what you need.”

The offer sounded great to Sven. He gratefully accepted with wide-open eyes and a couple of nods. The hunter received gold coins from Sven and meticulously noted down their needs after receiving payment from Sven.

“I appreciate that,” Sven replied and lightly nodded.

"We're all descendants of Ulgaro, aren’t we? I will be back before dusk tomorrow."

The hunter left for the walled city.

“Did you see that, Urich? This is the spirit of the northerners. We are all brothers, helping each other get through our lives,” Sven said, stroking his beard.

Sven and Urich camped beside the road. The wind, laden with frost, was bitterly cold. Urich huddled close to the campfire and wrapped his fur cloak tightly around himself.

“It's damn cold.”

“It’s only going to get colder. Cough. But it'll be easier to spend the night after we receive our supplies tomorrow.”

Urich glanced at Sven, worried about his health.

‘Even though he’s a northerner, Sven is ill. It’s best to avoid camping as much as possible.’

After a shivering night, a new day had dawned. Urich and Sven, with stiff eyelids, watched the people passing by outside the city walls.

“There are a lot of merchants from the empire passing by,” Urich said with a yawn.

“Fur is one of the main imports of the north. They buy good quality fur cheaply here and sell it at a high price in the empire. It’s a profitable business for the empire's merchants.”

“Ah, I've heard of that.”

Urich and Sven sat by the roadside, pathetically putting together and eating a mishmash porridge.

The empire's soldiers near the city wall looked at Urich and Sven, clicking their tongues.

“Doesn’t it feel like they are mocking us? Should we go beat them up?” Urich said, slurping his porridge.

“Let it be. We’ll be leaving soon, anyway, so let’s not cause any trouble.”

Sven shook his head, looking at the city gate. It was about time for the hunter they asked for supplies to arrive.

Creaaaak.

Urich and Sven waited for a while until the night fell and the curfew was in place again. After watching the gate close. Urich and Sven sighed silently.

“He got us.”

Sven said bitterly. They had been scammed by a fellow northerner, something unimaginable in the past. Back when they lived in clan units, scamming was impossible since everyone was related and knew each other. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“The spirit of the northerner? Helping each other get through life? Haha.”

Urich laughed heartily, patting Sven’s back. Sven’s shoulders slumped.

‘A few pennies don’t matter.’

But they were warriors. More important than money was their pride and honor. Sven seemed especially deeply hurt, staring blankly at the city wall.

Urich and Sven waited near the gate again the next day, keeping an eye on the passersby. Naturally, the hunter who deceived them was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had escaped through another passage.

“How did northerners come to deceive each other like this...” Sven said, shaking the last drop of the alcohol he had onto his tongue.

The Imperial soldiers guarding the city gate watched Urich and Sven. They clearly knew that Urich and Sven had been scammed.

“How long do you think they’ll hold out?”

“They’ll be gone by tomorrow. I’ll bet fifty thousand cils on that.”

The soldiers bet on how long Urich and Sven would hold out.

“Who are those vagrants?”

“Ah, commander.”

“Call me Sir Gremor, not commander. I prefer that.”

“Understood, Sir Gremor.”

Gremor was a guard commander who had recently been appointed. As most new hires are, he was meticulous in maintaining discipline among his soldiers.

“We can’t allow such people to camp near our wall for days. We protect the peace here in the name of His Imperial Majesty!” Gremor said, glaring at the guards.

“I will drive them away right this instance.”

“No, I will go down there myself.”

Gremor picked four soldiers. He and the soldiers went down to where Sven and Urich were.

‘A knight must lead by example.’

Gremor preferred direct action over commanding others. He believed his subordinates would naturally follow his lead if he set an example.

“This new guard commander is a tiresome man.”

“Typical of those uptight ones from the capital, huh?”

The empire's soldiers whispered behind him.

Gremor strode toward Sven and Urich.

“Is there a problem?” Sven asked.

“I am the guard commander. I’ve seen you loitering around our gate for d... Hmm,” Gremor stopped mid-sentence, staring intently at Urich.

“What are you looking at?” Urich replied coldly.

Gremor, resting his chin on his hand, thought for a moment before asking cautiously.

“Urich?”

He recognized Urich. Urich tilted his head.

“...The Armor Breaker!”

Gremor exclaimed to express his awe.