Chapter 9: The First Encounter (2)

From Ketal’s perspective, the estate was rather sizable. A sturdy outer wall surrounded the land, enclosing a moderately sized castle within. Its architecture was reminiscent of the medieval style, yet something about it felt distinctly different—perhaps it was the fantastical aura that lent it a unique charm.

“That’s a good-looking castle,” Ketal murmured. He was curious about what lay inside. The thought of exploring the interior filled him with anticipation.

With a relaxed place, he walked forward.

The tips of the guards’ spears quivered in their hands, betraying their unease.

The guard commander gritted his teeth as he stared at Ketal. He thought,

He is enormous.

The commander was not accustomed to looking up at others. Yet here, for the first time, he had to crane his neck to see someone who towered over him by at least a head.

It wasn’t just Ketal’s height—his physique was equally imposing. However, it didn’t feel excessive or bulky. His body resembled a perfectly sculpted statue. He wore a leather vest, and a scar ran across his chest.

An Ashen-haired barbarian...?

The commander’s mind flashed to tales of the legendary being.

“D-don’t come any closer!” one of the trembling guards shouted, his voice crackling. It was an involuntary cry born out of sheer terror.

Ketal’s gaze shifted to the guard, and the man’s face turned pale as a sheet.

He is going to kill me!

the guard thought, frozen in fear.

Contrary to expectations, Ketal stopped in his tracks. He said calmly, “I mean no harm.”

“Y-you can talk?” the guard stammered.

“I have no intention of being your enemy, so there’s no need to worry. I’d appreciate it if you could just relax.”

“H-he’s fluent!” The guards exchanged dumbfounded murmurs, their disbelief palpable.

Ketal frowned and asked, “Is it standard for barbarians in this world to be incapable of speech?”

“Well, no, but...” the guard commander muttered without thinking.

Ketal’s expression shifted, a hint of intrigue crossing his face. “So, there are other barbarians here?”

“Uh, well...” The commander could not answer him.

The spear tips still refused to lower, despite Ketal’s warm greetings.

Remaining composed, Ketal spoke again, “I am not your enemy.”

Over the course of his travels, most of the people he encountered reacted to him with fear and hostility. Ketal had grown used to it; even in the White Snowfield, he had seen his share of outsiders panicking and attacking him.

By now, it didn’t faze him. Calmly, he continued attempting to communicate. Slowly but surely, the trembling spear tips steadied. Once he had judged the situation to be manageable, Ketal addressed the guard commander directly. “You must be the leader here.”

“H-how did you know?” the commander asked.

“It’s obvious. Your attire is distinct from the others. As I’ve said before, I have no intention of being hostile.”

“What do you want from us?” the commander asked hesitantly.

“My goal is simple,” Ketal said. He raised a hand, startling the guard, but he ignored their reaction and pointed toward the estate behind them. “I want to visit your estate.”

***

Ketal was escorted to the inspection room, where he sat on a chair that groaned under his weight.

We just bought that chair,

the guard commander thought uneasily, staring at the chair that was too small for the barbarian. Slowly, he asked, “You said you wanted to visit our estate. Is your purpose simply to pass through?”

“If possible, I’d like to stay for a while. I’m unsure how long,” Ketal responded.

“You want to stay here?” The commander sighed.

The barbarian in front of him wanted to reside in his estate. The guard commander hesitated, he didn’t know whether to refuse or allow him to stay. There were no solid reasons to deny the request. Manuals for such situations existed, outlining proper protocols.

And yet, the commander couldn’t shake the fear he felt toward Ketal in their first encounter. It was a primal instinct, a natural reaction to the presence of such an overwhelming being.

Sharing the same territory as this man was the last thing the guard commander wanted. As he wrestled with his thoughts, Ketal spoke again. “I am not your enemy.”

His words were quiet but carried a weight that calmed the commander’s turbulent mind.

“I am a visitor to your estate. You are the guard commander responsible for managing visitors. That’s all this is. Just do your job,” Ketal said.

“R-right.” The commander finally collected himself. Upon reflection, he realized that they had allowed barbarians to enter their estate before. This wasn’t an unprecedented situation. “My apologies.”

“It’s fine,” Ketal responded indifferently. He was long accustomed to such exchanges, so they hardly affected him anymore.

With his composure restored, the commander began his duties. His job was to confirm the identity of outsiders and assess potential threats. Carefully, he asked, “What is your name?”

“Ketal,” he answered.

“Ketal. I need to ask about the noise earlier.”

“Noise?”

“As you approached, there was a sound—growing louder in regular intervals. Do you know what caused it?”

Ketal tilted his head. “I have no idea. All I did was run.”

“I see,” the commander said, gulping. He couldn’t imagine the deafening noise to have been caused merely by Ketal running.

No, that’s impossible,

the guard commander thought. He pushed the thought aside.

If it wasn’t directly related to the barbarian, it was none of his concern. They could investigate later if necessary. Even if it were true, there was no point dwelling on something far beyond his ability to control.

“Do you have any form of identification or someone who can verify your identity?” the commander asked.

“I don’t have anything like that.” Ketal suddenly remembered something and held up a necklace. “Would this work?”

“What is it?”

“It bears the crest of the Akasha family. I received it from one of their kin.”

The commander cautiously took the necklace. He knew of the Akasha family as they had passed through their estate to reach the White Snowfield several years ago. The commander recalled having an enjoyable conversation with one of their members and remembered them giving him an insignia.

“The Akasha family... You mean the merchant family from the Denian Kingdom?” the commander asked.

“You know of them?”

“They have been gaining prominence recently. After their head of family changed a few years ago, their influence has grown rapidly.”

“Is that so?”

It seemed their business ventures were thriving. Examining the insignia, the commander muttered, “It doesn’t look fake, but... it’s hard to verify.”

“Is this estate not part of the Denian Kingdom?” Ketal asked.

“No, this is the Kingdom of Gehantra.” The commander returned the necklace. “It’s not enough for confirmation, but it helps.”

To the commander, Ketal didn’t seem like a threat. Even if the necklace was a well-crafted forgery, it indicated that the barbarian had the intelligence to fake a family’s insignia, which was a quality that could be reasoned with.

The truly frightening threats were mindless beasts. Intelligent beings could be bound by laws and agreements. The commander firmly believed this.

“Fine, you may enter. But there are conditions,” the commander said.

“Oh?” Ketal grinned.

The moment the commander saw that smile, his confidence wavered like a toppled row of dominos.

Can he really be controlled?

From the commander’s perspective, Ketal seemed like a powerful beast with intelligence, which seemed more dangerous.

Ketal’s smile was simply one of delight, but the commander’s mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

“What are the conditions?” Ketal asked.

“We need to verify something...,” the commander said, forcing himself to remain steady. “We need proof that you are not a threat.”

***

Hearing the guard commander’s explanation, he muttered to himself, “A Dungeon raid, huh.”

The commander’s explanation had been straightforward: there were three others, like Ketal, whose identities were unclear but who also sought entry to the estate. The condition for their entry was to team up and clear a nearby Dungeon.

“Let me make it clear. If you don’t accept this condition, you can’t enter our estate. This is the minimum requirement,” the commander said, preemptively.

Barbarians typically hated complications and detested fighting alongside warriors they didn’t personally acknowledge. A barbarian agreeing to cooperate in a Dungeon raid was almost unheard of. Most would soon throw a tantrum, demanding to enter alone.

However, Ketal nodded readily. “Very well. I accept.”

“You... you’re okay with it?” the commander asked.

“A rule is a rule. If that’s what it takes, I will abide by it.”

“I appreciate it.” The commander felt a twinge of admiration. He hadn’t expected a barbarian to agree to something so cumbersome. In all his dealings with barbarians, this was a first.

Of course, Ketal’s agreement wasn’t born from a sense of duty or respect for rules. Though he kept a calm exterior, his excitement was almost uncontainable.

A Dungeon raid! Yesss, I’m going to a Dungeon!

Ketal thought. To him, this was one of the ultimate fantasies, and he wasn’t doing it inside a virtual game, but in real life. The thrill of it was almost overwhelming, making all the hardships he had endured feel worthwhile.

Ketal grinned, and the commander forcibly calmed his trembling body.

“So, forming a party for a Dungeon raid is the condition, huh? That seems simple enough,” Ketal said.

“There is one more condition,” the commander added. “After clearing the Dungeon, you will need to report back everything that occurred—any anomalies, unusual events, or noteworthy details. If you meet that requirement, then you will be allowed into the estate.”

“Ah.,” Ketal said with a nod. “So, it’s a system of mutual observation, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Am I wrong? For individuals with unclear identities, their backgrounds need verification. But you can’t trust their words outright,” Ketal said. Words from an untrustworthy source carried no weight. They offered no assurance. “However, if those words come from someone who worked together in a Dungeon raid, it’s a different story.”

Though Ketal wasn’t entirely sure what a Dungeon entailed, he guessed it wouldn’t be easy. It would require significant use of his strength. Furthermore, he had to do it with other people—cooperating with complete strangers. In such a scenario, anyone who couldn’t adapt to the group would quickly stand out. This system forced individuals with ambiguous identities to monitor each other, filtering out troublemakers in the process.

While the system had its limits and flaws, it served as an effective sieve.

“That’s impressive. Someone definitely put some thought into this. Did you come up with this?” Ketal asked.

“No, I didn’t,” the commander admitted with a dumbfounded expression.

What the....

In regions outside major cities or capitals, there was no reliable method to verify the identities of everyone born there. Many people with unclear backgrounds existed, and not a small number of them caused trouble.

However, rejecting all such individuals outright was impossible due to their sheer numbers. To address this, the kingdom’s skilled administrators had devised this process after days of deliberation. Weaker individuals were simply allowed entry, while those strong enough to pose a potential threat were forced to form parties and clear Dungeons.

At first, even the commander had been skeptical about the effectiveness of this method. But when it was implemented, it proved highly successful.

Aggressive mercenaries and shady thieves, forced to cooperate, often ended up exposing themselves as threats. In some cases, they even turned on each other inside the Dungeon, eliminating themselves.

While it wasn’t foolproof, it reduced the number of incidents caused by outsiders significantly. Only those capable of maintaining peace and showing consideration for others gained access to the estate.

After witnessing the system’s effectiveness, the commander had grudgingly acknowledged the value of the taxes funding such administrative brilliance.

Yet, Ketal had grasped the concept immediately after hearing it once.

“Are you really a barbarian...?” the commander asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“I am, regrettably,” Ketal replied with a smirk.

“You’re unlike any barbarian I’ve ever encountered.”

“So, there are barbarians here as well?”

“There are, but they're a troublesome lot,” the commander said, shaking his head as he stood.

“Let’s get moving. If we add you to the existing party, we can start the Dungeon raid immediately.”

The commander rose, and Ketal followed him with a grin.

“One last thing, you will be raiding the Dungeon with three others. Be cautious—if anyone dies or gets seriously injured, your stay here might be jeopardized,” the commander explained.

“Who are the others?” Ketal asked.

“Well, there is a thief, to start.”

Ketal liked that a thief was in his party. Every party needed at least one thief.

“Next, a warrior who claims to be a paladin,” the commander said.

“Claims to be? What does that mean?”

“It’s hard to explain. You will understand when you meet him.”

Ketal was equally pleased that a warrior was in his party. A frontline companion to share the burden of combat was essential.

“And lastly, a priest.”

Ketal was very happy with his party composition. Every party needed a healer, after all. The composition was ideal, though there was one thing he found lacking. “No mage?”

“Mages are precious resources, tightly managed by the Mage Tower. Any mages who aren’t affiliated with the Mage Tower... are dealt with by the tower,” the commander said.

“I see.” The mention of the Mage Tower intrigued Ketal. It was a fascinating term that made his heart race with anticipation.

However, one question remained. Ketal asked, “So the priest—are they also of uncertain identity?”

Priests, who served gods, typically derived their credibility from their divine affiliation. The commander’s expression turned awkward. “That’s usually the case, but her situation is a bit different. You will understand when you meet her.”

“Fair enough.”

It was time to meet the party members who would join him in the Dungeon raid.

The guard commander opened the door.