Academy’s Barbarian

“Oh, this damn game, seriously…!”

In a cramped and dimly lit one-room apartment, only the monitor in the corner faintly illuminated the space, giving it the appearance of a beast’s den rather than a human’s home. The room was filled with mold and piles of trash, emitting a foul stench that even livestock wouldn’t tolerate.

Yet, the man sitting in front of the monitor, as if he had no sense of smell, stared intently at the flickering screen, venting his frustration.

—

The man’s appearance was utterly shabby. His messy, unkempt hair looked like it hadn’t been cut in ages, and his bloodshot eyes were surrounded by dark circles. His stretched-out T-shirt reeked of cigarette smoke, and his sweatpants, stained with beer, revealed his uneven legs—one leg missing below the knee, the other only a thigh remaining.

He glared at the monitor, chewing on a cigarette with irritation. The ashtray on the table was filled with burnt butts, evidence of his chain-smoking.

“Damn Hersela. Did you really make this to torture us?”

On the screen, the words “Total Annihilation!” flashed as a replay of a battle between a black-haired woman and a bright-blonde man played out.

—

The final battle between the protagonist and Hersela.

The city, once ablaze with screams, was now filled with a gloomy silence. The protagonist, clad in battered and crumpled plate armor and a tattered red cloak, stood panting, his golden greatsword plunged into the ground. Around him lay the gruesomely slaughtered bodies of his comrades, torn and mangled beyond recognition.

The once glorious heroes, who had carried pride and hope, had finally fallen here.

“Is this the end?” A cold voice pierced the protagonist’s ears. He looked up, hatred burning in his eyes as he glared at his enemy.

In the heart of the ruined city, standing atop a hill of corpses, a demonic woman with a silver longsword slung over her shoulder sneered down at him. She was the cursed nightmare, Hersela Ai-shan Gi-or, the name of his final despair.

Both were bloodied and battered, their armor shattered from the fierce battle. The protagonist’s holy armor was barely holding together, while Hersela’s scalemail was burned and torn, barely covering half her body. Her warhorse lay decapitated at the foot of the hill, and she herself had swords and spears embedded in both legs.

Yet, unlike the protagonist’s twisted face of anguish, Hersela bared her blood-stained fangs, laughing with a feverish delight.

The protagonist clenched his cracked holy sword and charged. With each step, the ground shattered, scattering debris as his tattered cloak drew a red line. Like a raging bull, he closed the distance in an instant and swung his sword with all his might.

A golden flash, like a thunderbolt, descended upon Hersela.

“Herselaaaaa!”

“That’s it! That’s more like it!” Hersela grinned, raising her sword and bracing her left arm behind the blade to block the strike.

**-KWAANG-!!**

The clash of the golden holy sword and the silver longsword created a deafening explosion, scattering the surrounding corpses into the air. The longsword shattered into two pieces, cutting Hersela’s cheek as it flew backward. The holy sword’s strike had only managed to break her weapon and stagger her slightly—it was completely blocked.

“Tch…!”

“Now, die.”

Hersela, having blocked the strike, pulled her left hand back like drawing a bowstring, her fingertips sharpened. The protagonist hastily leaped backward as Hersela’s left hand shot forward like a bullet, piercing through the air.

Had he hesitated even for a moment, he would have been impaled through his chestplate. Many knights had met their end failing to react to that strike.

“You’re quick. Thinking of running away now?”

“Don’t mock me—!”

As the protagonist flew backward, he raised his left arm, and swirling flames wrapped around it, forming a blazing spear of fire. It was a desperate spell, drawing on the last dregs of his depleted mana.

The spear of fire shot toward Hersela like a beam of light.

“Amateur!”

Hersela’s response was blindingly fast. She dropped the broken longsword, yanked the weapons from her legs, and hurled them in rapid succession.

The first sword collided with the spear, melting as it disrupted the flame. The second javelin followed, causing the fire to distort and explode mid-air.

**-KWAANG-!!**

The explosion filled the air with smoke and noise, scattering molten metal fragments in all directions.

“Dammit…!”

The protagonist, having lost sight of Hersela in the smoke, hurriedly pulled back his holy sword…

He quickly took a defensive stance.

“It’s too late.”

A chilling laugh filled with killing intent came from beneath his feet.

With that, the protagonist’s fate was sealed.

Before he could even react, Hersela grabbed his ankle with her right hand, yanked him hard, and kicked with her left foot.

*Crunch*

“Ugh, gasp…!”

A spinning kick aimed at his temple shattered his skull like a cookie, and her left hand followed through, ripping out his heart.

Blood gushed out like a waterfall.

Soon, the sound of his lifeless body hitting the ground echoed, and the screen went dark.

[Total annihilation!]

“Damn it.”

The man glared at the message on the monitor, cursed, and turned off the game.

Then, his surroundings gradually blurred, and his consciousness floated to the surface of sleep.

—

…What a weird dream.

I woke up on the narrow bed, rubbing my eyes and taking a sip of water.

Maybe it was because I had recently seen the weapons Hersela used.

I dreamed of the days when I lived like a complete shut-in.

I don’t miss it.

I turned my head to look at the Ice Blade placed on the shelf.

Its dazzling appearance still tempted me, but in reality, it was just a useless burden.

I couldn’t leave it anywhere, nor could I wear it all the time.

The setting was that it emitted a faint chill. That was the problem.

At first, I thought it would add frost damage to attacks, freezing enemies’ wounds or something like that.

But freezing? Yeah, right.

When I tested it, the “faint” chill only made things slightly cold.

If that was all, it would have just been disappointing.

The real issue was that it was a piece of armor worn on the arm.

Even if the chill was faint, having it constantly in contact with my body was like dipping my arm in ice water.

After wearing it for about an hour, even Ha-shal-leur’s body couldn’t withstand it, and I felt the cold seep into my bones.

In the end, this thing could only be properly used by someone who was completely unaffected by this level of cold!

On top of that, it looked like a high-end item, drawing too much attention, and its size made it cumbersome to carry around.

It’s really just a pain.

—

I roughly tied up my messy hair and stepped out of the tent.

The stars embroidered in the dawn sky were faintly glowing.

The morning on the plains was chilly.

My breath turned into white smoke, dissolving into the darkness.

It had already been six days since I left Ordo with Or-han’s stamped permit.

The Empire’s border was close by.

—

In the center of the five tents arranged in a circle, the night watchmen were sitting around a campfire.

As I approached, they seemed to notice my presence and stood up to salute.

“Glory to the Ai-shan Gi-or. Did you rest well, Princess Ha-shal-leur?”

“Yes. You’ve worked hard too.”

I walked over to the campfire and sat on a suitable rock.

“Princess?”

The night watchmen looked at me, seemingly flustered.

Why are you so nervous? I’m not going to eat you.

“Is Mersin still asleep?”

“Yes. Should we wake him if you need him?”

Most of the guards and Ja-han had stayed in Ordo, and only Mersin had come along as the commander of the returning warriors.

“No, it’s fine. Tell Mersin to lead the troops back when he wakes up.”

“Are you planning to leave now? It’s still dark.”

“Yes. It’ll take about half a day to reach the Empire’s border. If I leave now, I’ll arrive before noon.”

“Understood. Take care, Princess.”

I acknowledged their salutes and returned to my tent to pack my things.

A silver longsword, a bow made from animal horns, some snacks, and this troublesome Ice Blade.

I put on my armor and wrapped the Ice Blade in leather, hanging it from my waist.

At least I won’t lose it this way.

The other items will be taken care of by Mersin and his subordinates.

I woke up the reddish-brown horse tied next to the tent, placed the bow and quiver in the saddlebag, and mounted.

“Let’s go!”

“Neigh!”

As I held the reins and lightly kicked the horse’s sides, it started galloping.

The wind brushing through my hair made me smile.

Maybe it was because of the memories of crawling around after losing my legs.

Riding a horse was one of the most enjoyable things I had experienced since being reincarnated.

—

I could feel the tents behind me quickly fading into the distance.

Unable to contain the spreading exhilaration, I threw my head back and let out a laugh.

Ha-shal-leur is free now!

—

Six hours later.

Hundreds of spear tips greeted me.

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