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Ken, I'm gonna tear you apart! At least I will try! I mean, even with Grekk-san at my side, I'm still intimidated by the ten buffed people—eight men and two women—who come towards us. They all look like they could snap me in half with one hand.
“Ah, some of them know me.” Grekk-san says, as he points at the two oldest of these men, who stare at him, and I can feel their terror creeping up at us from a hundred meters away. They say something, and the rest of the group begins to get much tenser. This is good.
I need to appear strong, even though I want to pee myself. While I agree with Ken's decision to send me, as I'm the most sensible choice, I also hate that it had to come to this. I also hate that he's not here right now! I mean, I can think of some reasons, but what about my emotional stability? Grekk-san may be better suited, but I feel safe with you!
Ah, what a wreck I have become! Relying on a boy! Yet how could I not!?
No, he relies on me now, too. So I have to make the best out of it. I even feel flattered, but I also want to bite Ken. Maybe I will. Later.
“Let's wait here for them, Grekk-san.” It's not like this place is better than any other on this open space, but letting the others come to me for the negotiation will subconsciously make them think they have a lower status.
“Alright.” The gray-haired man sits down cross-legged, and I think for a moment to follow his example. Yet I instead take out one of our stools from the backpack. Position is important, and as I'll be the shortest here by a large margin, sitting on the stool will make me look taller.
The barbarians come closer, and a man in his mid-to-late twenties stands in the middle of them. The rest of his posse sits down while he remains standing. Good thing I took the stool. “Where is the Red Ranger?” His voice is firm and strong, but I pick up a sliver of uncertainty.
“Who knows? It's hard to keep track sometimes. I'm here in his name though, I'm Momokawa Kyou.”
“You're just a little girl.” So he isn’t taking me seriously. In this case, it's not good.
I lower my voice a tiny bit, making it heavier: “I'm also the one who will talk on his behalf. You can take it or not.”
He stares into my eyes, trying to intimidate me, but talking is my turf. As long as he doesn't get violent, I know he can't hurt me. He gets louder though: “Get me the Red Ranger!”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Grekk-san snarks firmly, which makes the other barbarian flinch before he begins to build himself up again.
“Grekk-san, quiet please.” I'm indeed thankful, but if I let Grekk-san take over the conversation, it will turn bad.
“Sorry, Kyou-kun.” The fact that he apologizes does improve my standing though, as all of them are intimidated by the old barbarian. If he is subservient to me, this means they will subconsciously think more of me.
The leader of the barbarians folds his arms, tilting his head. He wants to look strong, but crossing his arms in this situation tells me of his uneasiness: “I'm Brumm, chieftain of the Northwind Clan. I demand to talk to your chieftain.”
“Maybe later,” I answer dismissively, this needs a soft yet firm touch: “For now, I'm the one you can talk to. I speak with all his authority.” If Ken chose me, he has to live with my decisions, though I don't plan to act against his desires if I can help it. “Once again, my name is Momokawa Kyou.”
“Why would he send a frail girl instead of a warrior?”
I could try to prove myself, but I don't need to do that now. As long as they're afraid of Grekk-san—they may try to underplay it, but I’ve noticed the reactions of his guards—my position is strong enough, and I don't need to risk it by failing to impress him: “Because it's me.” This is also very true.
This false confidence does impress Brumm-san, though he's still skeptical: “You wanted to talk, so talk.” He wants this to be over, so he probably has what he wanted to know already. Probably by seeing Grekk-san.
“Our leader wants you to leave the area and to cease attacking the farmsteads here.”
“Yeah right. You killed our people!”
“And they tried to kill ours.” I emphasize the 'tried' here to make sure he gets it: His people were the only ones that died here. “So let's leave it at that and nobody else needs to come to harm.”
I can see how my words affect him. Some of the other warriors as well, especially the older ones. They'd hate losing more people, so maybe this is enough to convince them?
Yet Brumm-san resists: “Retreating now would blemish the honor of the Northwind Clan. You won't be able to resist! They're just a bunch of farmers, though you seem to be a hero. How many of you are there? Not many, otherwise Harkon's party would have noticed them! We are neither afraid of heroes nor of rangers” I guess being so young does tell people that we're heroes after all.
Let's drop the niceties for now: “We also have Grekk-san.”
“Another reason! I need to take revenge for my grandfather!” He spits out these words, his hatred growing with every syllable.
“Wait a second,” Grekk-san interrupts: “Your name was Brumm... Are you Brimm's grandson?”
“Yes! I am!”
“I'm sure that I didn't kill Brimm.”
“You killed every part of him but his body!”
“I have no idea what that means.”
I need to interject here, before things escalate even more, the other barbarians are already on their heels: “I'm sure you have a lot to talk about, but let's focus on the here and now. Former events shouldn't be accounted for here, right?”
“Quiet!” Brumm-san stomps and the earth around him rises, the air pressure blasts into my face with some dirt, Grekk-san is standing up, but he holds back. However, he radiates pure power, and even though I’m on his side I'm scared of it.
I pull myself together, doing my best to salvage this situation: “Chieftain Brumm, what do you hope to accomplish by picking up a fight here and now? Someone may die if we continue down this road.” Most likely myself.
Instead of answering me, he stares at me, and I really wish Ken would be here. Considering that Brumm is the chief of a blood-thirsty tribe of madmen really scares me. Yet I don't think he's like that. He comes across more as someone who wants to do the smart thing, but he's also triggered and now unable to stop at this point.
Strange though, he wants to raid the farmsteads for their goods, and we heard about how they used to be satisfied with a fifth. “Did you become the chief recently?”
“Y-” He abruptly stops, he was probably lured by my [Persuasion] to answer me, but he’s basically told me everything already.
I look at Grekk-san before asking my next question, making sure that the old yet tall man is paying attention and could protect me if this triggers the chief: “So you asked your people to attack Green Horst, slaughtering every person who couldn't run away at time?”
“...” Brumm-san hesitates and this tells me more than he would ever admit. He didn't know about the Green Horst, he probably gave other orders, but admitting this now would tarnish his stupid honor, so he won't back out now that the damage has been done.
Let's use this opportunity, before he can answer and derail the conversation. It's the lesser solution, but it's more or less the course we settled on... well, Ken settled on: “At this point, both sides could enter another battle, but this would do more harm than good. We, the Lion Squad, challenge you on behalf of the White Horst to a Trenvig.” Lion Squad is the name our group is traveling as, basically just a cover as a mercenary band. “Grekk-san is now also a part of the squad, so you can also settle old conflicts.”
I read a lot of emotions on his face and gestures. Insecurity, stubbornness, a lot of grudge, hope, anger, hurt pride, all of them meshed together. Brumm-san stands up and says with a clear voice: “I accept! I will see you all in the dirt. We’ll meet again in two hours to talk about the details.” He turns around, his fellow barbarians following him.
I stand up myself. My knees feel so weak that I'm about to fall, though. Grekk-san supports me by holding my shoulders, despite the cracks that are still left in the bones of his arms: “You did well.”
I raise my chin, as I don't need him to tell me that: “Thanks for being my guard. It certainly helped.”
“I'm happy I didn't need to kill all of them on the spot. Though I wonder what happened with Brimm... What did the brat mean that I killed everything but his body?”
I have an idea or two: “Maybe he was so devastated by the defeat that he lost his will to live?”
“Could be, but seriously: It would be a shame for a warrior to be disheartened by something like a loss.” I have to agree.
However, we need to take care of the Trenvig for now.
―○●○―
Several days ago.
After hearing the decision of Kenza to stay and resist the barbarians and our first day of training, we go to the room Kenta-kun and I share, and I start to explain to the youngsters how a Trenvig works exactly.
“I think I said it before, but a Trenvig is a challenge between barbarian clans and has three parts: We got the Challenge of the Champions, the Challenge of the Elders, and the Challenge of the Chieftains. Both clans agree on the price, and the time and place beforehand. They will also make suggestions for the Challenge of the Chieftains.”
“What does that mean?” Kenta-kun asks.
“The Challenge of the Chieftains isn't set. Both chiefs collect three ideas each and judge if those ideas are in the spirit of being a barbarian. Usually games of skills, showing their ability to judge the situation and adapt. Some like to use fights with special rules, others play children's games, there was a riddle competition once, but as long as you have a sound reasoning, anything should be accepted. A chief that shies away from a suggestion that fits the bill will be looked down upon by their clan, as it shows that they can't handle the unexpected.”
“And how do they decide which one will be used?”
“Randomly right before it starts to give no time to prepare. My clan had a bag with colored marbles for that. No idea what they will use, but that's also agreed upon beforehand.”
“I see... considering there are fights possible, this means Kyou-san shouldn't do it... Ara-san neither... and Rine...” He looks at the pretty lass with raised eyebrows: “...may stumble with other tasks. Jii-san?”
“Lad, this is the challenge of the leader. It doesn't matter if you are fit or not, as long as you're the chief, you have to do it. Which means, it's you.”
“Not like I wanted to... ...phew... I hope it comes last.”
“It is. First comes Champions, then Elders, then Chieftains.”
“Good. Random stuff is the worst. We only need to win the first two and we have no problem, right?”
“Yes, you need to win two of the competitions to win the Trenvig.”
Rine-kun lifts her hand while asking her question: “What about the other challenges?”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“They are always the same. The Challenge of the Champions is both sides using their strongest warrior for a fight. The first one to die or lose consciousness loses. Of course, I was my clan's champion.” Though later only in title, as the other clans started to avoid us. “The champions are surrounded by a circle of forty warriors to mark their battlefield. If they get too close to an enemy one, they might get attacked. Leaving the circle is forbidden and attacking it is in bad taste.” As long as you can grab and crush your opponent on the spot, you don't need to worry about any interference. Usually, it's also enough to decide a fight.
“Phew... so you gonna do it, Jii-san?”
“No, no, no. I'm old and frail.” I say it, but I just do it because I want to do another challenge for a change. I always was the champion, and as I'm not the leader—for good reasons—I can't participate as the chieftain. Yet the Elder... “Rine-kun would be much better than I for it.”
“Are you sure?” The blonde beauty asks: “You are much stronger than me.”
“What if breaking my arm isn't enough to win? I can be very powerful for a moment, but after that, I can do nothing. Maybe you need me to use my strength before the Trenvig anyway, which would lead me to be unable to fight anyway.” Of course, I'm confident that I can crush any opponent with one arm, but I need to sell myself short!
The lad hesitates for a moment: “He's right, Rine. I'll count on you.”
“Sure! I won't disappoint you, Dear!”
My plan is working. “Now about the Challenge of the Elders. Both sides send their oldest member to compete in story-telling. In this case, it's obvious that I'm the one who needs to go.”
“I disagree.”
“Huh?” I turn my head towards the one who spoke out. It's Ara-kun? “You... do what?”
“I disagree. Grekkun, how old are you?”
“I didn't count, but look at my beard. At my hair. I'm basically a hundred years old or so.”
“Which makes you still younger than me.”
It takes me a moment to digest what she has just said, to make sure that I heard right: “You claim to be older than me?”
“I'm in fact 144 years old.”
“You just invented that number.” It sounds just fake. I look at the others, trying to find support.
Kyou-kun smiles at me, but her look makes me feel like a child who is trying to ask their dad to get candy after dinner. Rine-kun also smiles, but it's strained. Kenta-kun shrugs his shoulders, mumbling “She's right.”
My plan... failed! Why didn't anyone tell me that alfar can be this old and look so young!?
―○●○―
Brumm readies himself for the meeting. This time, he's accompanied by his father, as now Grekk will be honor-bound to not attack them until the Trenvig ends. Considering how much Brumm's instincts told him to run away and hide after seeing him, this calms him down. Good thing that after a Trenvig, both clans aren't allowed to engage in combat for a year.
Aside from Bramm, their elder Ollof and the newly appointed champion Harkon joined as well. It's not like Harkon is the strongest left, but he was more or less the only one who actually wanted to fight Grekk, as it's clear as day that he would be in the Challenge of the Champion and he's not known to spare his opponents.
Losing Harkon would hurt, but if he insists... it would have been easier to send someone stupid in there, like Ulw and his brats, who messed up everything in the first place. By now, Brumm figured out that they had ignored his orders, making the farmers mad, who then sent in a ranger who could put up a fight.
What he still couldn't figure out is why Grekk is with them, but it doesn't matter overall. He's here, he's dangerous, they have to deal with it.
It's sad that Brumm won't be able to avenge his grandfather yet, but if he could win the Trenvig, then...
There they are, at the same spot the girl was speaking with him before. There are three men and three women... no, more like: Two men, a boy and three girls.
The black-haired girl from before is here again. She looks as proud as before, and Brumm is a bit cautious of her, as the more he thinks back about the conversation earlier, the more he thinks that she had the lead.
There is also a blonde girl, which is probably the one Tjim was fighting before. From what Brumm heard, she is quite capable, probably a hero herself. Yet while the black-haired one just seems off, this one...
Oh shit, her eyes! It's like there is a flame burning in them, and this ties back to old stories Brumm heard, about a small country in the east, where there is abundant and rich soil and strong warriors protecting it. As this used to be the Lizard Clan's route, the Northwind Clan avoided going there, but even Brumm knows about Gottfried, who may be the only warrior capable of defeating Grekk in his prime.
No, if she's a hero, she can't be part of that country, but she looks so very different from the other girl, basically like many people around here with an unusual eye-color. Nonetheless, it won't matter in a Trenvig.
Wait, they don't have an elder. Does it mean, Grekk will be their elder? The next oldest person is a man with graying hair, who may wear armor and have a shortsword on his side, but looks like he hasn’t seen much action for the last decade. His sunburned skin and stench does tell me he's just a farmer.
Or maybe their elder is so old he or she can't move anymore by themselves. After all, these farmers waste their lives until they're shriveled.
Grekk himself stands tall and even looking at him makes it difficult to not flee on the spot.
The interesting ones are the two others though. Brumm heard about an elven girl, but seeing one is strange. Elves are seclusive and while the Northwind Clan tried to attack one of their villages, which is only a few days away from here, they never succeeded. They entered the woods and never found any buildings, and when they tried to tear down the forest, they found themselves in an entirely different forest. Elven magic is cursed.
This elven girl seems to be young, but there is no joy in her. It's like she's made out of wood. Her strange head- and face-shape and her frailty underlines this. Even though Brumm has met plenty of folksmen and orcs, some dwarves, vrylokas, and hynoars, this elf seems to be even more alien. Maybe because they're closer to human features in general and therefore every difference seems stronger?
The other odd one is the ranger. He's definitely a hero as well, he looks similar to the girl, but Brumm's instincts tell him that he's a danger. Not in a fight, but there is something about him which may make him a threat, and Brumm hates how he can't say why.
He pushes his hood back and points at Brumm: “You're the boss, right?”
“I'm Brumm, chieftain of the Northwind Clan.”
“Aha.” Brumm never heard someone not caring so aggressively before: “Katsuragi Kenta.” Within the chief, a raging anger awakens. He wants to cave this boy's head in with his bare hands. “No need for small-talk, let's begin laying down the details. The place for the challenges will be here, objections?”
While Brumm is about to say 'yes' just to shut this disrespectful brat up, he pulls himself together. If he starts objecting out of spite, then his words won't have any weight for later. “Fine with me.”
“I guess we could start half an hour after this talk.” Brumm nods again. “If we win, you and your people will leave and won't raid any farmsteads, villages, settlements, wayside inns, or similar places until spring. Same for caravans.”
“What are we supposed to eat then?”
“Either buy it or just hunt. Seriously, you-” he stops mid sentence, as he exchanges a look with the black-haired girl: “Seriously, I don't care what you do, as long as you leave the people alone. Also, this farmstead and each one close to it will be spared of any raids for the next ten years.” He knows the time-limits, he probably learned from Grekk what is sensible. “This would sum it up. What do you want?”
Brumm thinks about their terms. They could attack cities, but this is always risky. So they're down to bandits, mercenaries, and similar. “Then I ask for three things. First, a fifth of everything the farms in this area owns.” This was the plan to begin with, just this way he doesn't need to fight for it.
The farmer nods to it: “Acceptable.”
“Alright, go on,” the ranger says.
“Second, for ten years, the farms have to give us food and shelter whenever we are there.” With this, there is a lot to gain while the Northwind Clan recovers from their latest battles.
This seems to hurt the farmer, he takes a deep breath: “Also acceptable.”
“Phew... if he says so... what is the third?”
“Third, we want Grekk's head.” This would also serve as a revenge, and give the Northwind Clan a reputation beyond any imagination.
The Red Ranger becomes openly hostile for a second, and Brumm's instinct groans, as the danger coming from the ranger also intensifies. “No fucking way.”
Grekk puts his hand on the ranger's shoulder: “Oh, you're worried about me?”
“Fuck off!” He certainly has to be dumb and with little instinct to talk that way to a natural disaster incarnated.
“Lad, I don't mind. It's not like we will lose.” The danger coming from Grekk mellows a bit, though it's like saying that hard steel is becoming slightly softer steel. “That lad is out for revenge, and even if I don't know why exactly, it's probably justified. I agree to the third term.”
“You said I'm the leader, so shut up!”
“Lad, I know that I won't die here. And if I do, then the world is better off anyway. That's my decision.”
“Kch... fuck you, Jii-san.” The Red Ranger turns to Brumm: “Phew... I accept.” The chieftain pumps his fists, as the idea of being the ones who would kill the legendary Grekk, the thought of avenging his grandfather, is so appealing. “What comes next?” Seeing how the Red Ranger doesn't know the customs does aggravate Brumm, but on the other hand, this is something he can endure for this price.
“First, we appoint the Champion. Our champion is Harkon.” The warrior steps forward and his eyes are fixated on Grekk, beaming respect and fear at the same time, but also anger and thirst for revenge.
“Ours is Rine.” The blonde girl steps forwards. Brumm has silently considered this possibility, but he can't help but blink in surprise, as he still was set on Grekk being the champion.
Especially considering how easy-going this girl is! She walks to Harkon: “I'm Katarine von Stolzherz and will participate in the Challenge of the Champions.” She tips over her heart and then rolls her hand towards Harkon. This is a kingdom manner! Doesn't she take barbarians seriously!?
“You're not the one I wanted!” Of course, Harkon is pissed. He dreaded and expected the ultimate challenge, and now he has to take someone half his bulk. Yet he's also cautious, as he's the one who told Brumm that this girl was fighting very well and even took his arm before when he wasn’t paying attention. That she's better than Grekk is very unlikely, however.
So maybe he will be the Elder instead, after all. “Our Elder is Ollof.” He's been a warrior as well, and he knows all the stories which barbarians fancy.
“Ours is Ara-sa... Ara'ainn.”
Why is that petite elf stepping forward!? Her ears lower as she makes a proud “Ahem!”, leaving Brumm speechless.
Only for a moment though, as he bursts out: “You know that the Elder is supposed to be the oldest person of the tribe!?”
The elf's left ear leans backwards: “We do, though you may not know about an alfr's life expectancy. I'm older than you can count, and I will outlive your tribe with ease. Which isn’t much of a claim, considering how much we will destroy you today.”
Brumm isn't a typical barbarian, therefore he notices the insults, the bragging, and the challenge, which are all rolled up into a lecture. His instinct also tells him that she's very confident about being older than anyone here.
Oh well, she sounds like an intellectual, so there is no way she will entertain her audience.
Wait... this means Grekk is betting his life without even participating in the Trenvig himself? As the Red Ranger speaks as the chieftain, this is the only outcome, even though it makes no sense! Does this mean, that Grekk is so confident that they will win!?
Brumm inhales silently and exhales again: “Then the elder and the champions have been announced. Next are the possible challenges for the chieftains.”
“How do you decide which one will be used?”
“We use a die.” Brumm takes off a six-sided die, each side with a different color. “You may call which of the challenges is which color and we let Grekk roll the die, so you know that we aren't cheating.”
“Fine, I guess. Then we now call out our challenge proposals?”
“We do the first, you the second, we the third, and so on. The first proposal is 'Duel until disarmed.'” As Brumm instinctively knows that the ranger won't be a match in a direct fight, he decided to go with this challenge. It requires tactics, experience, and physical skill, which makes it a classic.
“Phew... of course. Well, it happens that I got something similar. Fight until you hit the back of the head of your opponent.” Brumm nods to it, well-knowing that this isn't similar at all. To disarm an opponent, you need either skill or power, but to get behind the opponent requires swiftness and foresight. Also, this may open up the use of ranger magic.
Though strangely enough, Brumm feels like his own proposal would backfire even worse, though he can't tell why. This fellow is messing with his common sense, as Brumm's instincts are always counter to what he would have expected to be right.
However, finding challenges against a ranger was hard enough. Brumm would love to make a hunting competition, but that would have been stupid, despite his talent in this. Same goes for hide-and-seek or basically everything else that requires going into the wilderness, which is supposed to be a barbarian's home turf.
That's why Brumm planned to add a second combat challenge, but now the ranger proposed one himself, so having three would be too many for good taste. The first fight between chieftains has already started, and while Brumm wasn't expecting the Red Ranger to be aware of it, that asshole already made a good move.
Of course, Brumm already considered this and had another challenge ready, which may sound like an outdoor activity, but is in fact a physical competition as well: “A good leader has to provide for his tribe, so we will gather firewood for an hour and whoever makes the biggest fire will win.” Even though the ranger will probably know what makes good firewood, he doesn't seem like someone who can carry whole trees.
“Fine with me, though you seriously want to lose, right?” Why does he have this barely bearable smirk, which gives Brumm the desire to punch his face until it's nothing but a big hole that goes through the skull? Is that some ranger magic? “I propose a scavenger hunt. Each side names three plants that have to be found in the woods, whoever finds and returns with them first wins.” Brumm almost flinches, as he immediately knows that the ranger would be much better at it, but before he could return something, the ranger goes on: “Oh? You're not confident in your survival skills? I mean, are barbarians raiding places because they suck so hard at finding their way in the wilderness to provide for themselves?”
More urges to kill that brat rise inside Brumm. He's about to strangle him, until his head pops and all the shit inside bursts out, covering everything. Yet he also knows that doing this would not only end up with his clan seeming to not respect the rules of the Trenvig, but probably with Grekk swatting him like a fly.
So that's why they don't use the legendary calamity. To ensure that everything falls in line. But in the end, Brumm also knows that the only thing he has to do is to win the Trenvig. Yes, this is only a minor annoyance, something he will shrug off in the end.
Time for his last suggestion! “My last challenge is a thumb war, three rounds.” This may be a game for children, but it's much deeper than it seems. Timing, reading your opponent, feints, strategy. While he's not allowed to crush the entire hand, breaking his thumb has to be enough for the insults earlier, and doing it in the first round will ensure two more rounds of pain.
“Ah, OK.” He agrees without missing a beat, but Brumm thinks he got him. Right? “Then for the final one, let's do some janken (rock-paper-scissors).”
While Brumm doesn't know janken, this world has the same game with different hand signs and meanings for them: Axe, sword, and spear. Axe beats spear, sword beats axe, spear beats sword. That's why Kenta, who spoke this world's language due to the hero-system meant janken, his actual words were changed into Weapon Triad. “Why? It's just a game of chance.”
“Heh?” Oh god, why is his voice so grating!? “So you say that you barbarians with your superior instincts won't be able to read what I'm throwing? I guess I overestimated you.”
Kill, kill, kill! “Fuck you, my instincts are much sharper than whatever bullshit you can pull!”
“Then no problem, right?”
“Grr...” Brumm immediately realizes that he has been played, but backing out now would also smear his reputation among his clan: “Bring it on!” Yet there is a small voice inside him, which tells him that the ranger seems confident about all but one of the choices...