Barbarian Quest

Chapter 136

Chapter 136

Urich remembered Gizzle, the son of the tribe chief. He was now the leader of the Stone Axe Tribe.

'He was a warrior with decent skills.'

Gizzle stood out among his peers. As expected from the son of the chief, he was a warrior who grew up eating well and learning combat and hunting skills from great warriors.

Urich's very existence was Gizzle’s misfortune. Gizzle was undoubtedly a remarkable warrior, but he was always compared to Urich, who just happened to be around his age. Whenever Gizzle achieved something, like a good hunt or a battle contribution, Urich surpassed him without even trying.

The tribe chief's tent was in the center of the village. Tribe members flocked from all sides to see Urich’s face.

"Wow, that really is Urich, huh?"

"Urich the cursed..., the man who defied the taboo..."

People whispered. Urich just smiled at them.

"Enter, Urich.”

A warrior holding a spear said to Urich, parting the leather at the tent entrance. Urich bent his upper body to lower himself and entered.

A few rays of light streamed in through the tent's windows. In the center, a hearth burned.

Urich turned his gaze. There sat the tribe chief Gizzle, with influential elders and shamans on either side.

"You've returned, Urich," one of the elders, who was slightly stooped, said.

"I'd love to welcome you home, but try to understand the situation, Urich."

Gizzle spoke as he remained seated. His eyes were darkened with the charcoal paint underneath them, giving a fearsome look. He was dressed in shiny, quality leather befitting a chief and was adorned with eagle feathers on his head and shoulders to make him look much larger. It was a necessity for a tribe chief's presence.

'Gizzle has changed a lot since the last time I saw him. He has the dignity of a chief now.'

Urich walked forward. He had no intention of disrespecting Gizzle. The Stone Axe Tribe was his beloved family, and its leader, regardless of who it may be, deserved his respect.

"I've crossed the mountains and returned. I want to be Urich of the Stone Axe Tribe again," Urich stated plainly.

"Crossing the mountains, such blasphemous talk!" one of the male shamans exclaimed, shaking his wolf skull staff. He wasn't just a shaman awaiting death on the village outskirts; he presided over important tribal ceremonies.

"It’s true that I went up the mountains. But I don't think I climbed high enough to break any taboos. I just followed a bear up a bit. The mountains' bears led us. Doesn’t that mean we were guided by the mountains themselves?" Urich spoke calmly.

"Nonsense! You defied the taboo and were captured by the evil spirits! You are out of your mind, cursed by evil spirits. Eaten by them!" The shaman retorted. The other elders nodded in agreement.

"I went up the mountains. From the snowy peaks, I looked to both the east and west. I crossed the mountains, and it wasn't a world of spirits! In fact, it was a world inhabited by people like us. I saw it with my own eyes. You can keep talking, but I've experienced beyond the mountains with my own two legs. If you doubt it, go see for yourself if I’m really lying."

Urich took out one of his loads and opened it to show the room.

Chrrrrr.

Gold coins, gems, and ornaments spilled out of his bag. The tribe had never seen such treasures. To their eyes, the fine craftsmanship of civilization seemed beyond human skill.

"Oooh, oh!"

Even the elders marveled at the sparkling treasures. It was a vast fortune.

"Does this look like something given by evil spirits? They'd hardly gift such treasures to a cursed one. Beyond those mountains, things like these are everywhere. Even the average woman walking the streets wear necklaces like this," Urich said, lifting a sun necklace.

"Are you mocking us? Playing with us? Urich!" The shaman was furious.

Chief Gizzle, who had been sitting quietly, stirred.

Thump!

"Enough! This is not a place for your argument!"

Gizzle's intervention made the priest nod in agreement. The young tribal chief seemed to have earned considerable trust since his appointment.

"It is true that Urich has broken the taboo, chief," the priest declared, then fell silent. Gizzle, with eyes closed, rhythmically tapped the armrest of his chair.

"Blue Mist?"

Urich asked Vald about a name he had been hearing frequently.

"Yes, that Blue Mist."

"They're just a tribe that fish around a lake, right? They're quite far from us, what do they have to do with us?"

Urich recalled the Blue Mist Tribe's land. It was a place that was always foggy during the rainy season and abundant in water even in dry seasons.

"It's just a rumor, but apparently they’ve found iron-bearing land," Vald commented, sipping from his horn cup with a frown.

'Iron.'

Urich paused. Iron was a precious resource in the tribe; hence blacksmiths were highly respected.

'If the Blue Mist Tribe has found iron, it makes sense they'd expand.'

Iron meant power.

"So, they are demanding tribute?"

"They've been subjugating nearby tribes one by one. It's like they're declaring themselves the dominant power in the area."

"Crazy bastards."

Urich cursed. However, establishing a hierarchy among tribes was common. Tribes had fought each other for ages.

"If the Blue Mist Tribe messes with us, we'll have to fight back. Gizzle isn't the type to pay tribute. It’s just not in his nature."

Vald said as he caressed his spear. He too was a warrior of the Stone Axe Tribe who was always prepared to offer his life for them.

"Vald, I've heard you've been through a lot."

Urich hadn't been idle during his confinement. He went around town and gathered people who showed him favor, collecting information about events that happened during his three-year absence.

"What hardship? I never liked Gizzle anyway. And you practically saved my life. Soon, those who clung to Gizzle will return to you too, so don’t be too harsh on them."

Vald chuckled.

'Our brother Urich has returned.'

Urich's influence was remarkable. He quickly won over the tribe's youth. His tale of crossing the mountains drew both disdain and admiration.

"But Urich."

Vald gazed through the tent flap at the mountains.

"Huh?"

Vald looked up with uneasy eyes.

"If beyond the mountains isn't the resting place of spirits, where do our ancestors' spirits rest?"

Urich smiled bitterly. He knew the question was going to come. But he was no shaman, nor was he a priest.

"Well, I don't know."

Urich answered, waving his hand over the fire.

"I trust you, Urich. But we need an answer. Where do our souls go? It's not just me wondering."

"I know., I know."

Urich understood Vald's feelings. The uncertainty and restlessness of lost souls. Yet, even Urich hadn't found that answer yet.

'Where do we go after we die?'