Surviving as a Barbarian in a Fantasy World

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 266: The Descent of the Holy Sword (6)

‘...The Sun God's Saintess!’

Pasika gasped in shock.

In terms of sheer size and number of followers, the Church of the Sun God was outmatched by the Earth Goddess's Church.

Yet, despite this, people still regarded the Church of the Sun God as the most powerful in the continent.

The reason was simple.

It was because of the overwhelming number of powerful individuals within it.

From the Chief Inquisitor to the Holy Knights' Commander, and even the Pope, numerous top—tier superhumans were among them.

Considering that just a single top-tier superhuman could drastically change the perception of a group, this was an overwhelming force.

However, the Church of the Earth Goddess also had several top-tier superhumans.

The difference wasn't great enough to be considered overwhelming.

The reason why the Church of the Sun God was regarded as the strongest was because of the figure standing before them.

A human blessed by the Pantheon who appears only once every thousand years.

The only one who could meet and converse with a god directly.

The Saintess of the Sun God—Helia.

A hero-class powerhouse.

Ketal murmured in awe.

“The Saintess of the Sun God, huh.”

He had never seen a human with such power before.

There was the Tower Master, but since he was a lich, he didn’t count as human.

‘A hero-class powerhouse.’

“A Saintess, is it? Pleased to meet you.”

“Aquaz and Seraphina are greatly indebted to you. I’ve come to deliver their thanks, Mr. Ketal.”

“We are close friends, so there’s no need to worry about it.”

Ketal burst into a hearty laugh.

Helia spoke calmly.

“Even so, it is my duty to express their gratitude. And as a servant of the gods and fellow human of this continent, I must also thank you. I have heard much about your deeds.”

As she spoke, Helia narrowed her eyes and gazed at Ketal.

“Are you here to draw the holy sword?”

“I’m interested in it. I plan to give it a try.”

“I see...”

Helia looked at Ketal with a puzzled expression.

She seemed uncertain as to why someone of his strength would be interested in the holy sword.

“And you? Are you after the sword as well?”

“No. I’m here for a different reason. You don’t have to worry about me being a competitor.”

The descent of the holy sword meant the Pantheon had moved.

As the only one able to meet the gods directly, she had come to confirm it.

Ketal nodded in understanding.

“......”

Helia silently observed Ketal.

‘One who has deviated from the divine will.’

It was her first time seeing one with her own eyes.

She had long pondered whether this man, Ketal, was a blessing, curse, ally, or enemy.

And she had reached a conclusion.

Helia smiled faintly.

“I hope we can continue to get along in the future. I wish for us to maintain a good relationship.”

The deeds Ketal had performed so far had certainly benefited them.

She didn’t know his true intentions, but for now, there was no reason to distance themselves from him.

“I look forward to it.”

“I don’t know why you desire the holy sword, but... even if you do draw it, I don’t think it will pose much of a problem, given who you are.”

Her tone was peculiar, as though implying that drawing the sword would bring some kind of issue.

“I apologize for interrupting. Please enjoy the rest of your time.”

With a final farewell, Helia departed.

She never once paid any attention to Pasika.

Pasika, for his part, remained as quiet as a mouse.

Ketal finally remembered his presence.

“Ah. Apologies. I wasn’t focused on our conversation.”

“N-no, it’s fine...”

His voice was barely audible.

His eyes, fixed on Ketal, were filled with shock and confusion.

‘W-what was that?’

The Saintess of the Sun God.

One of the most influential figures on the continent.

She had personally come to offer her thanks, spoken with utmost respect, and asked for a continued good relationship.

All while maintaining perfect decorum.

But that wasn’t the end.

“Ahem.”

A middle-aged man cleared his throat as he approached.

He was dressed like a magician.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard the stories. Your name is Ketal, correct?”

“That’s right. And who might you be?”

Ketal’s eyes gleamed.

The middle-aged man exuded a palpable aura.

Unlike the Saintess, he didn’t seem to care about hiding his strength—it was intense.

Instinctively, Ketal could tell.

This man was also a hero-class powerhouse.

The man introduced himself.

“I am Elian. The first disciple of the Tower Master.”

‘E-Elian!’

Pasika swallowed hard.

The Tower Master was a legendary figure who had lived for hundreds of years and was one of the strongest beings in the world.

Many magicians had aspired to become his disciple over the centuries.

More than ten thousand magicians had begged him to take them as a student.

Among them were once-in-a-lifetime geniuses, some who reached the superhuman level in their twenties, and even those who were on the verge of becoming hero-class powerhouses.

But the Tower Master had rejected them all.

For one reason.

‘You lack talent.’

No one could refute such a brutal statement.

Since then, it was believed that no one would ever become the Tower Master’s disciple.

But one day, the Tower Master suddenly accepted a single student.

That student was Elian.

The Tower Master’s first disciple.

And Elian lived up to expectations.

In just twenty years, he had ascended to the level of a hero.

He was a miraculous genius born of the continent.

‘What is going on here?!’

Ketal was thrilled.

He had met two hero-class powerhouses in just one day!

He wanted to shout for joy, but he suppressed the feeling, smiling instead.

“Have you also come to draw the holy sword?”

“I’m interested in the holy sword, but I didn’t come here to draw it. I’m just here to analyze its structure.”

Elian narrowed his eyes as he spoke.

“…So you are Ketal. I’ve heard much about you from my master.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Ketal grinned.

Elian quietly studied him.

‘...He doesn’t seem nearly as problematic as my master described.’

According to the Tower Master, Ketal was a dangerous beast who could lash out at any moment.

But meeting him in person, he didn’t seem so threatening.

In fact, he appeared quite ordinary.

‘Is he disguising himself?’

And that only piqued Elian’s interest even more.

Elian spoke calmly.

“Would it be possible to have a proper conversation later? And if possible, a sparring match as well?”

“That sounds great to me!”

Ketal nodded readily.

A sparring match with one of the strongest warriors, a magician at that—it was an exciting opportunity!

He had no intention of refusing from the start.

Elian's face briefly changed, as if he hadn't expected such an immediate acceptance, but he quickly regained his composure.

“…Thank you for that. I'm a bit busy right now, so it might be difficult. But let's talk when I have some time. I look forward to it.”

“I look forward to it as well.”

Ketal smiled and extended his hand for a handshake.

Pasika, on the other hand, looked like he was about to lose his mind.

‘The first disciple of the Tower Master, saying "I look forward to it" and politely requesting a sparring match…?’

Something about this…

Something felt off.

Who exactly am I talking to right now?

Suddenly, he felt afraid of Ketal, who smiled and turned around.

“Oh, sorry about the delay. So, what were you trying to say?”

“….”

Pasika stared blankly with his mouth open.

Moments later, he snapped back to his senses.

“…Let’s get along! Since we’ve met here, we’re friends, right? At least, that's what I think!”

“Oh, that’s what you were trying to say. Of course, we’re friends! Let’s get along!”

Ketal laughed heartily and patted Pasika on the shoulder.

Pasika’s body shrank almost halfway in response.

* * *

While Pasika was racking his brain trying to navigate the situation, within the holy sanctuary of Elia, the Saint and the Holy Knight Captain, Kretein, were conversing.

The Saint murmured calmly.

“The first disciple of the Tower Master, Elian, and the Sun God's Saintess, Helia, have arrived. Didn’t you also say that the King of the North Sea would come?”

“We received word a few hours ago. It seems an internal issue arose, and he won’t be able to make it. He sends his apologies.”

“Is it a problem with the barbarians? They're a troublesome lot.”

The Saint sighed.

Kretein gave a wry smile but didn’t argue.

It was true, after all.

“Well… not all of them are like that. One barbarian has come here, after all.”

“…Ketal, right?”

The Saint narrowed his eyes.

A man who had saved the holy sanctuary, fought demons, protected the elves, and battled the Lord of Hell, Materia, emerging victorious—a terrifyingly powerful figure.

Ketal.

“Where did he come from?”

“We don’t… know. The King of the North Sea didn’t seem to know him either.”

Everyone who knew of Ketal wondered about his origins.

Very few knew he had emerged from the Forbidden Lands.

The northern region was where the most barbarians were found, so Kretein had inquired with the King of the North, but he had responded that he had never heard of Ketal.

The Saint muttered with curiosity.

“He really seems to have fallen from the sky.”

“Still, after speaking with him, he didn’t seem bad. He’s been of great help to us and is worth befriending.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Many of the heroes are eccentric, and it’s been a headache.”

The Saint grumbled with a face scrunched up.

“Is there still no movement from the Empire?”

“…None. No actions, no responses.”

“What in the world are they doing?”

The Saint sighed.

Black magicians were on the move, demons were descending, and the Pantheon had even summoned the Holy Sword in response.

Yet, the Empire remained utterly silent.

There were no official statements, no movements—nothing.

It was as if they had something more important on their hands.

This was a significant reason why the continent had been losing ground to the demons.

The largest and most powerful entity was doing nothing, leaving everyone else floundering.

“Enough.”

The Saint shook his head, frustrated.

There was nothing he could do about the Empire.

All he could do was hope they would resolve it themselves.

He needed to focus on what he could do.

The Saint spoke up.

“Have enough people gathered?”

“Yes. We’ve gathered all the top-tier fighters.”

“Then, that’s good. What about the black magicians and demons?”

“With the help of the Saintess of the Sun God, we’ve set up protections. They won’t dare approach.”

“Good. Then, let’s begin.”

The Saint declared.

“Open the gate to the Holy Sword.”

* * *

Pasika hastily left.

Meanwhile, Ketal had no deep thoughts.

He was simply happy to have made a new friend.

Next, it was time for his awaited meeting with the Guild Master.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Not at all.”

The Guild Master smiled thinly.

They would have questioned their eyes if anyone else had seen that smile.

Even the King of Mercenaries could be moved by the Guild Master, who now seemed to be lowering himself like a mere servant.

But before Ketal, such behavior was only appropriate.

They sat facing each other, and Ketal’s eyes widened.

“…Oh?”

Right beside the Guild Master, there was something small.

It was a tiny, winged human.

“That thing next to you.”

“Oh. That’s my secretary. She’s a fairy.”

“Oh, oh. I see.”

Ketal’s voice trembled.

Inside, he was shouting with joy.

‘A fairy!’

A mythical being.

Not as mainstream as elves, but perhaps more special for that reason.

‘What kind of day is today?’

Meeting two hero-class fighters and now even a fairy?

Was it his birthday or something?

Ketal, overjoyed, stared intently at the fairy.

“Ugh.”

But the fairy groaned.

Her face had turned pale, as if she had just seen a monster.

She hurriedly hid behind the Guild Master’s back, her tiny body trembling.

Ketal clicked his tongue in disappointment.

The Guild Master, flustered by the fairy’s reaction, apologized.

“Uh, oh. I’m sorry. It seems she’s not feeling well at the moment.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you for your understanding.”

The Guild Master bowed respectfully before continuing to speak.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]