Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

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It was a group of three humans, prowling in the dark, relying on a torch like us…

We saw each other only after we’d approached within 10m of each other.

“What’re you looking at? If you don’t have any business, go away.”

“Hmm, excuse me.”

Ainar spat out coldly, and the other group passed us by, disappearing back into the darkness.

It was a little strange.

Step, step.

They were only about twenty steps or so away, and the sound of their footsteps was still faintly audible.

But their torchlight was no longer visible.

I’d heard that most of the stairs in the labyrinth devour light, this must’ve been what that meant.

The bright light of a torch became almost impossible to see with the naked eye even from just 10m away…

While I was pondering over this phenomenon for a while –

“Bjorn, we have to move.”

Ainar spoke up with a note of stubbornness in her voice.

“They know where we are.
The walls here are convenient, but it’d still be safer to find a new campsite.”

That was certainly true.

I was indeed going to do that.

But, something here didn’t fit.

What the heck, as soon as she saw another group of adventurers, she growled at them to fuck off…

What a sudden shift in character.

“Bjorn, humans can’t be trusted.”

“… I agree.”

I see, we had one more thing in common other than both of us being barbarians.

Our distrust in the race called ‘humans’.

Looked like something’d happened to her during her first time in the labyrinth.

I’d have to ask her later.

“Then let’s go.”

We packed our bags and moved on.

But finding another campsite with as good a location as before turned out to be difficult.
Perhaps a compromise was in order, with just one wall protecting our backs?

While I was busy thinking –

“Stop it…”

I could hear a moan, coming from somewhere nearby.

“Kahk! Huuk!”

It was no banshee.

It wasn’t even a woman’s voice in the first place…

“… Wa-, wait!”

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The words were clearly discernible.

“Live, please let me –”

Damn it.

Why couldn’t I have just sat down and slept anywhere?

“…”

As the screams stopped, silence reigned again.

Ainar whispered.

“It wasn’t a monster attack.”

I knew that.
I, too, had working ears.

It’s unlikely for a person to beg for their life in front of a monster.

The situation was clear.
Somebody killed somebody else.

Fuck, what kind of dogshit situation was this?

I wasn’t some kid detective.

Since I had no intention of getting involved, I just grabbed Ainar’s wrist and slowly started backing away.

But did they sense our footsteps?

“Who’s there?”

It was a cold, subdued voice.

It sounded rough, but it was a woman’s.

We held our breaths and didn’t move, not giving any response.

But at that moment –

Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish! Popopopop!

Something like a flare shot into the sky, softly illuminating an area about 50m in radius.

As a result, I was also able to meet the eyes of the owner of the voice.

We were less than 15m apart.

… Erwen would’ve been able to notice her presence from afar and avoid her, had she been here.

“Hmm, rookies, is it?”

The nameless woman looked at us and made a quick judgment.

I was doing the same.

A dagger dripping with blood.

Four scattered corpses.

“… Pillager.”

The woman asked calmly.

“First time seeing one?”

“So-so.”

My first time seeing somebody as professional as this chick, at least.

“I see.”

Although some witnesses to her murder scene had just popped up, the woman who was meaningfully nodding her head still looked very calm.

Somehow, I could guess the reason.

Pillagers.

Those who professionally hunt their fellow adventurers, instead of monsters, are called that.

They earn good money by looting equipment off adventurers, instead of farming mana stones from monsters.

Of course, if you get caught, you should be sentenced to death the moment you get back to the city…

Except there’s nothing like that.

Just like I’d killed six adventurers in self-defence, and yet wasn’t investigated at all.

There’s no way to know what happens inside the labyrinth from the outside.

Unless someone tells you otherwise.

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“… You aren’t wearing a mask.”

This is the most absurd aspect of the current situation.

This psychopathic bitch is blatantly showing off her face.

A little over 170 cm tall, with a skinny figure.

Tattoos running from under the eyes to her shoulders, and the back of her right ear cut in half.

With this much information, identification wouldn’t even be difficult.

In the modern age, it’d be possible to collect evidence from this place itself…

But this is a fantasy world.

There are even ways to distinguish truth from falsehood without physical evidence.

“… Were they your colleagues?”

“Well.”

The woman looked at the scattered corpses and shrugged.

“They might’ve thought so.”

That’s why her face was bare.

While asking questions that I could reasonably expect to be answered, I quickly organized the information that could be seen with the naked eye.

There were four bodies in total.

Due to their equipment level and the fact that one looked to be a wizard, I could tell that they were adventurers who were active on at least the fifth floor.

And there were no traces of traumatic injury on three of the corpses.

But since traces of vomiting up blood and gastric juice remained on their lips…

‘Were they all poisoned? The man who was dealt with at the end had some tolerance, so he managed to endure for a little while?’

I hoped my guess was correct.

The situation would be even more bleak if she was a talent who could kill four mid-level adventurers alone without receiving a single wound.

Slowly, bit by bit.

The woman squatted down and started skilfully removing the equipment from the corpses.

And put them one by one in her bag.

It might’ve been a magic tool or something, because even the bulkier items fit in without any problem.

Making me feel fear before envy could arrive.

Just having such a thing made the difference between us desperately clear.

“Barbarian.”

The woman called to us.

I didn’t respond.

Ainar asked me quietly.

“Is it a fight?”

She really was great.

Erwen would’ve become terrified by now.

No matter how big the gap might be, did a warrior’s pride lie in never giving up or something?

I answered briefly.

“I’m thinking.”

To be honest, I wanted to avoid the option of fighting.

Our difference was obvious just from the equipment.

And, if her skills matched her equipment, well… Even 2:1, our odds weren’t anything to write home about.

Whooooosh–!

As its life expired, the light in the sky winked out, bringing back the darkness.

I immediately made my decision.

“Run.
Full speed.”

Pride won’t save your life.