How to Live as a Knight After the Ending

Chapter 149: The Ballad of the Lost Barbarian (1)

“Trespassers!”

“How dare some mad bastard attack our North Blinders!”

“Don’t kill them, capture them alive! We’ll have to grind their flesh and sprinkle salt on them!”

The door to the mansion shattered, sending the men inside scrambling.

They each took up weapons and surrounded the intruders with their lives on the line.

Breaking through the gate were a wandering knight and a barbarian warrior.

Among them, the barbarian warrior was familiar to their eyes.

“Mr. Balud. You’re out of your mind. What do you think you’re doing crawling back in here?”

“You should have left Tirna and fled if you wanted to have any hope of survival. Are you here because you want to die?”

Hearing those words, Balud flicked his rain-soaked bangs upward.

In their eyes, he was a traitor but he had no reason to be, and he hadn’t acted like one.

He had only done it because his boss, Mr. Islow, had said so.

What an absurdity.

He had been so desperate to get the job.

It was so important to him, and he worked so hard to keep it.

It was just a flimsy sand castle that would collapse if someone played around with it.

It was ridiculous.

Balud had no intention or desire to correct their thinking.

Only one thing mattered.

“You have killed my valued men, and I will deal with you according to the laws of Vendetta.”

After crushing and pulverizing all who stood in his way he would go where he wanted to go.

At Balud’s words, the mobsters exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

If nothing else, it was hilarious to hear him say that, just the two of them, and without a gun.

But that didn’t mean they were dismissive.

The knight next to Balud was, to put it bluntly, out of the ordinary. If nothing else, the front gate had been breached, and the men guarding it were all dead.

That meant that Balud had hired someone very good but even so, it was a dull-looking knight.

Tirna may have all sorts of fancies, but they’re useless when surrounded like this.

“Do you have faith in the durability of the armor you wear?”

“Even if you did, you’re powerless against numbers.”

Armor is so strong that it can stop a bullet, but only once or twice.

The constant barrage of bullets will wear down the armor and eventually punch a hole in it.

Besides, it’s just plain ugly, and wearing such heavy armor hinders your mobility.

That’s why the mafiosi of North Blinders wore body armor under their outer garments instead.

It only protects the upper torso, but it’s still a vulnerable part of the body.

And since it’s all they have on, they can move around without too much trouble, so their mobility is guaranteed.

No matter what anyone said, this fairy-tale knight was no match for them.

“Still, he was my boss once, so I feel bad about turning him into a beehive.”

One of the mafiosi muttered that, but his mouth was smiling.

His eyes sparkled with anticipation, as if he had hoped for this to happen.

Balud frowned, as if he sensed the sticky gaze and was offended.

Sensing that Osian felt the same way, he spat out a rumbling voice from inside his helm.

“That’s low.”

The mobsters seemed offended by the comment and pointed their guns at him.

At that moment, Osian bent his legs.

“I’ll make the first move.”

With that, Osian straightened his bent legs and leaped with all his might.

He leaped high enough to touch the ceiling, and then fell back down to the mobsters surrounding him.

Despite the heavy armor covering his entire body, Osian’s fall didn’t make a single sound.

Even with the carpeting on the floor, this lack of sound is an oddity but an even stranger sight unfolded next.

The sword in the knight’s hand danced.

The speed was incredible. It would be hard enough to slice through a single enemy in front of him, but Osian’s movements flowed as effortlessly as a dance despite his armor.

His speed was fast and his flow was uninterrupted.

Before they knew it, a dozen mafiosi had fallen, bleeding to death.

White starlight lingered and flickered through the gaps where their bodies fell.

The mobsters were puzzled that Osian had landed so close to them, and they died before they knew it.

The surviving mobsters’ complexions paled as they watched their comrades die.

All the while, Osian’s movements didn’t stop.

As if his initial soft attack was just a taste, he showed his true colors.

Like a knight in shining armor, he struck down anything that stood in his way.

A burly mafioso threw himself at Osian to stop him, only to be slammed into his shoulder and sent flying more than five meters before crashing into a wall.

No one doubted he was dead.

It was just that the big guy flew at such a speed that he hit the wall.

The wall cracked and his body lay limp on the floor. Every bone in his body was probably shattered into fingertip-sized pieces.

Besides, it wasn’t the death of his big coworker that mattered now.

The pure white destroyer that had killed him was still hurtling toward them.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

“How the fuck are we supposed to stop that thing!”

“Just shut up and shoot!”

The muzzles of the mobsters’ guns spewed fire. Their bullets formed a great arc as if they were trying to stop Osian.

The bullets bounced off the brilliant armor with sparks.

However, the kinetic energy of the bullets transmitted beyond the armor to the inside.

‘I can take it.’

In addition to his strong body, Osian was now wearing a new set of clothes underneath his armor, a top-quality garment made by Quintana.

As if she wasn’t bragging about her masterpiece for nothing, the kinetic energy of the bullets that passed through the armor was blocked by the clothing.

The garment itself was made of a special material, which offset much of the impact from the outside.

Still, the energy that remained unfiltered was extremely minimal, and it didn’t leave any marks on Osian’s steel-like body.

Starlight Armor, the finest clothing and the body of a knight, it was impossible for a single bullet to break through this three-layered barrier.

The mafias were terrified by the sight, but they couldn’t run back.

Because when Osian moved, Balud moved with him.

-Bam! Bam!

The eerie sound of an axe chopping someone to death rang out behind them.

The mafioso behind them turned to see what was going on, and a shadow fell across their faces.

He could see Balud, his eyes glowing red, preparing to bring his axe down on him.

“Eh……?”

-Tsk!

Balud was vicious in a different sense than Osian.

One axe blow killed one guy. The movement was neither polished nor delicate.

It was inorganic, like chopping firewood, and seemed efficient, with no wasted motion.

That’s why it was so eerie.

It was not the kind of thing a human would do, to mechanically harvest another human life as if it were an item on a conveyor belt.

Of course, the mafiosi themselves have a vested interest in killing people since they make a living from violence.

They might be surprised and frightened by the idea of their enemies killing their own people, but they weren’t idiots who would just swallow their fear and do nothing.

Naturally, they fought back against Balud who was attacking them from behind.

The problem was Balud, the director of the North Blinders.

More than that, he is a Northerner, a genius with the potential to be one of the best barbarians in the North.

He was worthy of being a hero character because he possessed all three traits of a barbarian warrior.

He was always a gifted man, but this is the first time he has begun to crack the shell of the egg that is holding him back.

Though it has yet to hatch, it was enough.

“Stop……!”

The mafioso that tried to stop him died and his end was unspectacular

He tried to block Balud’s axe with his handgun, and then tried to push Balud away with his shoulder.

The problem was that the axe sliced through his gun, creating a sharp cross-section.

He could have used his shoulder to push Balud away and it wouldn’t have changed the outcome.

Balud’s physical abilities were at their peak, with runes maxed out and a raging bear.

“UGH!”

A hatchet flew out from behind Balud and slammed into the forehead of the man that had tried to ambush him.

Balud had thrown the axe at the man without looking back.

He used his bare hands to forcefully squeeze the face of a nearby mobster.

The mafioso struggled to break free of his grip, but Balud crushed its skull with the sheer force of his hand.

His strength was unbelievable to behold.

‘Director Balud is that strong?!’

Balud picked up the corpse and threw it away. The mafia fell like dominoes in his wake.

Balud felt no emotion at all. He pulled his hatchet from the dead body and moved on to his next target.

“What the hell.”

There were only two opponents without guns but they overwhelmed the fifty or so mafiosi surrounding them, and they were unable to put up a decent fight.

“What the hell!”

Pushed to the limit, the mobsters threw a bomb.

It’s a grenade with the pin pulled out. It would be suicidal to use it indoors, but he was about to die and couldn’t afford to cover it up.

Balud snorted and swung his hatchet.

The frosty air from it caught the grenade as it flew by.

The grenade misfired, turning to ice and tumbling to the ground.

Osian swung his shield wide as the grenade flew in the opposite direction.

A gust of wind blew the grenade back at the throwers.

-Kwagwagwagwagwag!

An explosion that shook the mansion rang out.

Osian and Balud crossed the mansion, leaving the explosion behind them.

Two men stood like guardians in front of the door to the backyard, where the banquet was currently taking place.

Unlike the others, these two were alone, as were Osian and Balud.

That alone told them that they were out of the ordinary.

“Uh-oh. Look who it is.”

The man in the suit, his back against the wall with his arms crossed, smiled and turned around.

He had shaved his head and was tattooed with black paint over his scalp.

The shape of the tattoo looked like dancing flames.

His eyes were small and his mouth was large, giving him the appearance of a vicious snake.

The other was a silent man who didn’t speak.

His body was small, however, because it was crouched in a strange, animal-like manner.

His arms were oddly long, and his skeleton was not that of a normal human being…and he seemed to know Balud.

“Do you know each other?”

“He’s part of the organization.”

“Well, that’s one thing.”

There was no way they didn’t know Balud, a director of North Blinders.

But unlike the rest of the organization, he seemed to have a more personal, sinister grudge.

“They’re just a bunch of assholes who don’t get to be directors anyway, and they’re a little bit of a brawler.”

“I think I know what they are.”

They were, to put it mildly, the highest ranking members of the Mafia.

They’re stronger than the average member, and even as individuals, they wield considerable influence but there’s a reason they don’t rise to the level of director.

A director is a position of leadership and control, of thinking on your feet and playing politics.

It’s no wonder they were giving him hostile looks.

It was a kind of jealousy.

The first to speak was the tattooed one.

“Why did you betray the organization, then? If you’d kept to yourself, you wouldn’t have gotten the shit kicked out of you.”

“Devin. You’re still a talker. You think we were just having a casual conversation?”

“Huh. Of course not but I still welcome this situation. Who wouldn’t like it when the prey you want to kill sticks its head out of its own accord?”

Devin laughed so thickly that the corners of his mouth hung over his ears.

“Balud. I’ve been dissatisfied with the fact that you, a dirty northern barbarian, have risen to the position of director and are now meddling around just because you think you can. In fact, when it comes to fighting, you’re worse than the two of us.”

Balud didn’t argue back. It wasn’t worth it.

But his opponent seemed to believe it was the truth, confirming his bias that he is stronger than Balud, and that Balud got to that position without any skills.

“Well, today we’ll finally find out for sure.”

Devin smiled a serpentine grin and drew the trident from his arm. The tip crackled with electricity.

His crouching companion, Mork, pulled out a claw. Not surprisingly, it was a weapon that had been modified like Devin’s trident.

They both lunged at Osian and Balud without warning.

*

Boom!

The door to the backyard shattered and the ones who bounced back like old shoes were Devin and Mork.

The eyes of those gathered in the banquet hall naturally turned to the wide-open mansion.

There, Balud and Osian slowly emerged.

“Well, well. I see we’ve caught you in the middle of something.”

Osian’s muttered words cut through the rain and rang out to everyone.