Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard-Chapter 124

TL/Editor: raei

Schedule: 5/week

Illustrations: None

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“You're back.”

“Yes... it was really tough.”

Ian looked at the Red Bear tribe village with eyes filled with exhaustion.

Not long ago.

While fleeing from the Grendel's pursuit on the holy mountain, Ian encountered a northern patrol.

“Hey! Who are you?”

“Can't you see? We're humans!”

Ian's level of crankiness had reached its peak.

He looked like a cranky wizard to anyone who saw him.

As Ian shouted, exuding crankiness, the northerners were greatly surprised.

Wow! He must be a madman!

Unlike the Empire, the northern barbarians had no rumors about cranky wizards.

A cranky person just seemed like a mad person.

“I don't know who you are, but watch your mouth. If you don't show some respect immediately...”

“Guys! The situation is urgent! Please lend us a hand!”

“... A shaman?”

Before long, the northerners understood the situation.

A furious Grendel horde was chasing after Ian!

“Aren't those the Mountain King's followers?”

“You people! What on earth did you do on the holy mountain...”

The Grendel horde bared their teeth and claws.

Spit.

The northerners said nothing more.

Talking time was over.

Now it was time for physical and steel conversation.

“Oh Hrundal!!!”

“To the Ice Palace!!!”

The northerners spat thick saliva into their palms and grabbed their weapons one by one.

Axes and clubs, simple weapons that were easy to make.

But simplicity did not mean they were weak.

There’s a golden saying in engineering.

Simple is best.

As long as it works, no unnecessary parts are needed!

A crude club with a metal hook at the end was perfectly fine as long as it could smash the enemy's head.

“Raaaargh!”

The northerners charged at the Grendel with savage cries.

The northern patrol smashed the Grendel’s heads with their clubs.

Ian was so moved by the sight that he nearly wiped away a tear.

These guys... they really do fight well!

Fortunately, the number of Grendels wasn’t large.

Ian had driven most of them away with the profane mystery, and only a handful of scattered soldiers had pursued him.

The white snowfield turned bright red.

Fresh, warm blood steamed as it hit the cold air.

The heat of battle hadn’t dissipated, but Pyra grabbed the patrol captain and spoke.

“We found the Yagons!”

“What? Where! Where are they?”

Ian chimed in.

“Probably in Hrundal's Ice Palace?”

“...”

This was the elegant northern version of saying they were ‘dead.’

In sophisticated Korean, it might be like saying they ‘went to America.’

Hearing that the Yagons had all gone to Hrundal's Ice Palace, the patrol captain mumbled with a lost expression.

“How could this be... but why?”

“I don’t know. But I saw it with my own eyes. The Mountain King killed a shaman and tried to hide the Yagon corpses.”

“...”

“This is an emergency. We need to inform everyone!”

The patrols immediately returned to their respective tribes. Since the holy mountain was a holy place, skilled warriors from each tribe had formed the patrol.

Ian also returned to the tribe with the Red Bear tribe's patrol.

The chieftain was in a good mood, having just received a filial gift from his son (or Ian).

So when Pyra explained what had happened on the holy mountain, he didn’t order them to ‘bash that lunatic’s head in.’

“This is hard to believe.”

The chieftain said, looking at Ian with lifeless eyes typical of the elderly.

“What could the Mountain King gain from massacring the Yagons... I would understand if he captured the Yagons to strengthen the Grendel army...”

If this were the Empire, Ian would have responded like this.

I don't know, really?

Ian simply reported what he had seen and felt.

To understand the full story, more detailed investigation was needed.

“A tribal council is necessary, Chieftain.”

Pyra boldly asserted his right to speak.

As the tribe’s shaman, he had a definite right to speak, though his credibility had diminished due to frequent mistakes.

“If you found the Yagons, this is indeed a serious matter.”

The chieftain muttered.

Since the Red Bear tribe's chieftain thought this way, it meant other tribal chieftains likely thought similarly.

“Ragnar.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Propose a chieftain's meeting.”

Ragnar immediately nodded.

“Yes, I will do that.”

---

---

The thoughts of the chieftains were similar.

Having received the patrol reports, all the chieftains wanted to start a meeting as soon as possible.

As a result, the chieftains gathered in the blink of an eye.

A snowfield lightly covered in snow.

All the chieftains of the Okaha Tribal Coalition gathered in the snowfield.

The governance method in the north was quite democratic.

At the top sat the High Chieftain.

This position rotated among the chieftains of each tribe.

It wasn’t like a king with absolute power, but more like a representative position, similar to a class president.

A tribal council was held only when there was a common concern among the tribes, like now.

What? Centralization?

Bow to a king? Why should I?

The so-called barbarians didn’t know such civilized methods.

We are equal! Everyone gets a fair vote!

This was the barbarian way (nod).

Incidentally, the roots of the Holy Empire lie in the northern barbarians.

It was not a mere coincidence that the Empire's political system was exactly the same as this tribal governance system.

“Ian.”

“Have you been well? Helga.”

Helga from the Sky Claw tribe had also come to the meeting place.

The meeting place was set up in the center of the alliance, so no chieftain would find it too far to attend.

Obviously, like true barbarians, they didn’t realize that setting it up in the most populous tribe would have been the most efficient!

If this were Korea, the meeting would have been held in Seoul 99% of the time.

“I heard the news. The Mountain King meddling with the Yagons... this is no ordinary matter.”

Helga expressed her concerns immediately upon arrival.

It was understandable, as Ian knew well how much the northerners worried about their food supply issues.

“High Chieftain! Let’s start the meeting quickly!”

Ragnar, the acting chieftain of the Red Bear tribe, shouted.

Other chieftains stomped their feet in agreement with Ragnar.

But the High Chieftain shook his head.

“Not yet. All the guests have not arrived.”

The current High Chieftain was from the Frost Axe tribe.

He was an impressive man with a wolf pelt draped over his head.

“Ha! Have you frozen your brain? I counted and everyone is here! Has our High Chieftain forgotten how to count?”

“Hahaha!”

Ragnar jeered.

Is it okay to speak like that to the High Chieftain?

Yes, it is.

The High Chieftain in the north was like a project leader in a group assignment.

“... They’re here.”

The High Chieftain said, looking out over the distant snowfield.

Beyond the white snow, leather banners appeared.

Even Ragnar and Helga were surprised, their mouths agape.

“High Chieftain! They are...!”

“Aren’t they the Sgonu people?!”

Those who appeared at the Okaha Tribal Coalition meeting place were none other than people from the Sgonu Tribal Coalition.

“Weapons! Bring my weapons!”

“High Chieftain! What is the meaning of this!”

The more timid chieftains raised their voices in panic.

But Ian easily understood what was happening.

“This is no ordinary tribal meeting.”

Helga nodded heavily.

“Yes... it’s a joint meeting of the northern and southern tribes.”

The Sgonu Tribal Coalition also struggled with food shortages.

Moreover, the Sgonu Tribal Coalition had lost a shaman to the Mountain King.

The probability that they were enraged was 100%.

“It’s been a while, Wolfhedin.”

“How have you been?”

The Sgonu Alliance had only sent their high chieftain and a few representative chieftains.

Nevertheless, the air in the meeting place was tense.

The Sgonu Alliance had often clashed violently with the Okaha tribe, making them a clear 'enemy.'

“Hmm. It seems my visit is not welcome.”

The Sgonu high chieftain looked around the meeting place and sneered.

“Don’t tremble in fear! I’m not here to cut off your heads! Haha!”

“What the hell is he saying!”

“Hey! Let’s take our axes and go outside!”

Despite the rough words flying from all directions, the Sgonu high chieftain remained unperturbed. He was a man with incredible nerve.

“Silence!”

The Okaha high chieftain shouted.

Even though the high chieftain was often viewed dismissively, no one was stupid enough to badmouth their team leader in front of an enemy.

“The failure of the Great Hunt is not a matter of the north or south.”

“...”

“Shaman Pyra. Report what happened on the holy mountain.”

Pyra once again explained what had happened on the holy mountain.

Shamans were attacked and killed by Grendels.

The same Grendels that attacked Ian’s party.

And the discovery of the enormous frozen Yagon grave.

“Is that true?”

The Sgonu high chieftain asked in disbelief.

“There’s a limit to absurdity. The Mountain King attacked shamans? Fine. But that he killed a large number of Yagons?”

The Mountain King was a herbivore. He had no reason to massacre animals he wouldn’t eat.

And he had maintained a peaceful and wise relationship with humans until now. Why would he suddenly engage in such warlike behavior?

Had he suddenly become a tyrant?

“Whether you believe it or not, high chieftain, I am simply telling you what I saw.”

“Hmph. A shaman who chews on strange mushrooms ‘saw it himself’...”

Unable to bear the Sgonu high chieftain’s mockery, Ian spoke up.

“If you don’t believe the report, why are you here?”

“What? Who are you?”

“I am someone who accompanied them to the holy mountain.”

The Sgonu high chieftain soon received a report that Ian was a wizard from the Empire.

“A rookie who knows nothing about the north, bragging about one trip to the holy mountain?”

Ian shrugged and took out his Arcana deck.

“Oops. My hand slipped.”

“...”

“I almost dropped this precious gift from Hrundal~”

Some chieftains laughed.

Because the Sgonu high chieftain's expression had twisted.

“You scoundrel! Just because you have a shaman’s item in your hand, you think you’re a shaman?”

Ian looked the Sgonu high chieftain straight in the eye and said.

“Of course. Hrundal bestowed the mysteries upon me, and I know how to wield them. If that’s not a shaman, what is?”

“...”

“Compared to the other shamans here, my skills may be insignificant. But does that mean a rookie shaman is not a shaman?”

As Ian shouted, the guest shamans nodded.

Hrundal had bestowed Arcana cards. Denying Ian's shaman status would mean denying the very identity of shamans.

If the god acknowledged him, what could humans say?

Riding the momentum, Ian continued.

“I dare to say, the answer is already clear.”

“What?”

“Suspicious things happened in the Mountain King’s territory, and the Mountain King refused to communicate. What should we do next? We need to get answers directly from the Mountain King!”

Exactly.

Ian boldly suggested a physical conversation.

If they confronted the Mountain King directly and questioned him about this incident, they would surely get answers.