Episode 52 Slave of the Savage Tribe (1)
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The sound of a small bird chirping.
Bikir opened his eyes to the sunlight streaming in.
The morning light stings the whole body painfully.
Bikir, who was about to get up, frowned at the pain as if his entire body had been shattered.
He succeeded in raising his upper body with superhuman mental strength, but it was painful to rise completely.
‘Where is this?’
Bikir recalled yesterday, or the last night, which may have been several days in the past.
I remember exploding all my strength towards the darkness in the floodwaters.
The mana that was squeezed out unreasonably, the aura that was fiercely burned.
The result of attacking with the power of an intermediate grader and even pulling out the demonic sword Baalzebub was disastrous.
‘Defeat’.
A gigantic monster buried in pitch black, ‘Madame Eight Legs’, it was a creature that exceeded Bikir’s expectations.
At the critical moment, if she hadn’t been startled by the sudden explosion of light, she would have lost her life.
And Vikir’s recoil damage, which created such firepower, was also formidable.
First of all, the muscles and blood vessels of the whole body were ruptured.
The burden on the bones that had to support them was even worse.
The fingers and forearm bones that held the knife were shattered as a result of a comminuted fracture, and sharp parts of the ribs bent through a spiral fracture pierced the intestines.
The leg bone that had been thrown away was in a state where it had caused an ethmoid fracture, a transverse fracture, and evenly fragmented segmental fractures in various ways.
As a result, no bones, muscles, veins, or skin are intact.
‘Still, I’m glad he saved his life.’
Bikir let out a sigh of relief.
They were able to survive thanks to the blessing of the River Styx and Baalzebub’s ability, ‘Tough Life’.
The consequences of misdiagnosing Madame Eight Legs’ combat power were painful, but it was fortunate that she was able to leave Hugo’s surveillance network.
Soon his death will be reported to the Baskervilles.
There were many eyewitnesses such as the sorceress Adolph, Camus, Staffordshire, and the triplets, so there is no need to worry about proving death.
Moreover, he didn’t die because he didn’t know what he was doing, he died saving the next head of the Morgue family from monsters and savages.
‘… … The Baskervilles will benefit greatly from diplomacy with Morgue.’
Moreover, as the Baskervilles are a knight family, this tale will greatly contribute to improving the family’s image both inside and outside the family.
If it was this level of military achievement, there was a high possibility that it would come down to the imperial family.
Even after death, he brought honor and profit to the family, so he won’t be treated like a pathetic person.
Is that all? Later, when returning to the family and revealing the fact of survival, the treatment will be better.
‘I need to quickly recover my body and regain the strength of my previous life.’
Bikir used Murcielago’s power to heal the wounds on his body.
Not right away, but the bones and wounds that are healing at an absurd rate.
at that time.
Bikir suddenly found a rope hanging around his neck.
A noose hung around Bikir’s neck like a dog collar.
This was another factor that saved Vikir’s life besides the blessing of the River Styx and Murcielago’s ability.
If it hadn’t been for this noose that flew in from behind and pulled at his neck just before his whole body was crushed by the monster’s attack, Vikire would not have been able to avoid death.
This noose flew at the right time, and I nearly died from breaking my neck because of it, but I’m glad I survived.
Bikir grabbed the noose around his neck with his hand.
The end of the noose was led through the tent and out the door.
Bikir finally raised his head and looked inside the tent.
A conical tent made of animal hides. A few wooden supports were the only pillars, and the floor was covered with dry leaves.
Bassrock-
There was a round glass bottle next to it, but if you look closely, it’s a potion bottle with the Baskerville family’s pattern on it.
Inside the tent, the smell of dry soil, fallen leaves, animal fur, and potion were mixed together.
Bikir crawled out of the tent like a dog.
Every time I took a step, my whole body felt like it was burning, but I had to figure out the situation around me.
Before long, the scenery outside the tent came into view.
Large and small tents made of leather, the sound of drums coming from everywhere, and the flames soaring over the tall piles of firewood.
A large number of savages were passing between them.
Black or silver hair, brown skin, well-trained muscles for both men and women.
A top made of deer or jaguar skin, and a cloth bottom dyed with acorn juice.
Children with tattoos or scars on their bodies were dismembering monster corpses and removing meat from them, while children were playing with birds.
Cheerful and lively, yet raw, unpolished or processed.
Bikir had a hunch that this was the village of ‘Balak’, a savage tribe.
In the middle of the enemy camp, which has long been a natural enemy of the Baskervilles.
I had to be very vigilant, but it was impossible as my body was all over the place right now.
Bikir pondered what to do next.
However, Balak’s warriors passed by without paying attention to Bikir, who was standing alone.
The women and children seemed a bit hesitant and wary, but that was all.
Right then.
“Go quickly! walk!”
A nervous cry is heard from somewhere.
As Bikir turned, he saw several savage warriors leading prisoners tied to ropes.
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The prisoners, trudging along in rows, were of various races.
Most of them are from other tribes with dark hair and brown skin.
No wonder they all suffered severe torture and abuse.
Bikir found a few familiar faces among them.
I don’t know the names, but I’m sure the warriors belonged to the Baskervilles and the Morgues.
Some of them met at the fort or even came to the jungle here together.
Their whole body was tied to the rope like a fish, and they met eyes for a very brief moment with Bikir, who was wearing only one dog collar around his neck.
“… … .”
“… … .”
And before long, they pass each other.
Bikir stood quietly and watched them.
Before long, Balak’s warriors stabbed the captives with spear points.
“Go up quickly. If you don’t want to die from a wolf bite.”
The place where they took the captives was a tall tall tree.
This tall pole was densely covered with thorns protruding like blades.
Balak’s savages forced his captives to climb the blade’s tree naked.
Prisoners go bloody and climb this tower of swords.
If anyone did not climb, the savages set fire to the base of the tree.
The tree’s trunk was oiled, so the flames continued to climb the tree, faster than most prisoners could climb trees.
In the end, the captives die from excessive bleeding from being stabbed and cut by blade-like stems, or burned to death from the flames burning up from below, or else they fall to the ground below.
kung! I’m sorry! kung!
Under the trees, wolves howled loudly and pushed the captives up the trees.
Some were stabbed to death by spears or bitten by wolves when they refused to climb the tree of the sword.
A terrible ‘thorn punishment’ devised by an old sorcerer in Balak.
Vickir just watches this execution ceremony, which seems like there is no such thing as hell.
at that time.
“Huh, thank you for not looking like that.”
Someone has spoken to Bikir.
Ahhun. It was the barbaric warrior who shot Camus with an anesthetic needle the other day.
He was sending bloody eyes as if he wanted to kill Bikir right away.
“If it hadn’t been for the captain’s pet dog, I would have boiled it right away.”
“… … .”
“Don’t stand there and go find your master quickly!”
Ahhun kicked Bikir in the butt hard.
“… … .”
Bikir fell to the floor and looked at Ahun.
Ahhun flinched a little when he received Bikir’s gaze.
‘What kind of eyes… … .’
In the quiet eyes, not even a handful of agitation can be felt.
The horrendous deaths of the captives and the pain felt by their battered bodies.
Ahune felt somewhat intimidated when he realized that nothing had scratched Bikir’s soul.
Eventually, Bikir slowly rose from his seat. And he moved his steps along the rope hanging around his neck.
Ahhun could not follow Bikir like that, only leaving behind.
* * *
‘… … that guy He said his name was Ahhun, right?’
He probably has a grudge against him because he hurt his back by falling off the back of a wolf the other day.
Bikir hadn’t forgotten the face of the man who had just kicked his ass.
However, since I couldn’t do anything in the current state of my body, I just endured it for now.
Even now, the blessing of the River Styx and the regenerative power of Murcielago are steadily restoring Vikir’s body to its original state.
And in the meantime, Bikir decided to visit the owner of the noose that had saved him (?).
As a result of walking for a long time, holding a rope around his neck, Bikir ended up in a remote place quite far from the village.
A puddle where a waterfall falls between rocks and a small spring.
A few crayfish are seen crawling under the clear water.
A rope led there.
“… … ?”
Bikir paused for a moment.
When he sees that the rope he was following leads to the center of the puddle and goes under the water, he wonders what to do.
Right then.
Chow ah!
A spray of water rose out of nowhere, and someone stuck out his head from the water.
Water droplets scattering around, hair mixed with silver and black hair, pointed triangular ears.
A brown-skinned, big-eyed girl walked out of the water naked.
The end of the noose’s rope remained tied tightly around her wrist.
“… … .”
Bikir looked straight into the barbarian girl’s face.
Half-moon-shaped thick eyebrows, eyes curved like those of a fox, eyes as clear as the puddle you are in, a sharp nose and red lips.
Unlike before, the soot on his face had been erased, but his eyes were clearly in his memory.
She was a savage girl whom I had met at an illegal slave auction during the purification work in Underdog City.
Opposite positions then. Bikir stared straight into her eyes.
“… … .”
“… … .”
A little silence ensued.
The first to break the confrontation was a barbarian girl.
She smiled broadly as she pulled the leash around Bikir’s neck.
“Get down.”
