"Don't be reckless, Chieftain!"
Before Haraval stepped into the catapult, the High Shaman tried to stop him.
"Let other warriors and shamans infiltrate the fortress. If they succeed, you won't need to step in. And if they fail, then even your involvement wouldn’t change the outcome. For now, we should wait. If they fail, we can regroup and reassess..."
"Grrr."
Haraval growled, his patience thin.
As one of the tribe’s top warriors and the potential future Grand Warrior, his presence was commanding enough to unsettle the High Shaman, making his wounds sting more intensely.
"Shamans have no pride. There is no retreat for a warrior."
"Have you forgotten the traditions of our tribe? Listen to the counsel of your shaman, Chieftain."
"The counsel of a shaman. There was a time I might have respected that. But now..."
Haraval jerked his chin towards the fortress on the river and the ominous black-armored figures blocking its gates.
"Look at that, and still expect me to rely on a shaman’s advice. Could you manage that?"
The High Shaman felt a pang of regret.
The information they had gleaned from their divinations had proven incorrect.
Still...
"This is exactly why we must exercise caution! Can’t you see?" the High Shaman argued, sweat beading on his brow. "A fortress like that, those black-armored soldiers... such things don’t just appear out {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} of nowhere."
"But they have," Haraval replied.
"We are facing events beyond our understanding. Do you know what that means?"
"And what are you trying to say?"
"It means there’s a presence in that fortress capable of performing the impossible!"
The High Shaman tried his utmost to convince him.
But Haraval was unmoved.
"Shamans have always been cowards. I’ve never liked that about you."
"Chieftain!"
As he climbed onto the catapult, Haraval spoke with calm resolve.
"If you’re that frightened, Shaman, retreat with the forces after my death."
The High Shaman realized he could not sway him and sighed.
"If only the Great Chief were still alive..."
Traditionally, shamans offered counsel, and warriors carried out their will.
It was a long-standing tradition of the tribe.
But that tradition was falling apart.
The one who had balanced the shamans and warriors, their leader—the Great Chief—was no longer among them.
They had lost their guiding force and now wandered aimlessly.
"...May you return alive."
"No. You should hope I die. If I survive, I won’t forgive a coward who fled due to fear and misinformation."
And with that, the Chieftain launched himself into the heart of the fortress.
* * *
Due to his awakening, Corporal Jeon Gwang-il had grown to an impressive height of 2.3 meters.
But even he was dwarfed by the nearly 3-meter-tall, green-skinned behemoth facing him: Haraval, Chieftain of the Greenmane Tribe.
*Boom!*
The ground trembled as the two giants clashed in the center of the fortress.
"Damn it!"
"Everyone, get back! This isn’t a fight we can join!"
Even the ordinary awakened, as well as the seasoned soldiers, struggled to withstand the shockwaves from their battle.
*Thud!*
"Grrk...!"
Haraval swung his massive axe, and Corporal Jeon crossed his gauntlet-clad hands to block the attack.
But he couldn’t fully absorb the impact, and his body was pushed back several meters.
While being pushed back in combat wasn’t unheard of, the soldiers watching were shocked.
"Corporal Jeon was forced back."
"A minimum boss-level monster...!"
It was the first time since the battle began that Corporal Jeon had been pushed back.
Meanwhile, Haraval was equally surprised.
‘To think there would be a warrior of such caliber among these natives.’
As the commander of this assault and one of the tribe’s finest warriors, Haraval had been entrusted with leading the most critical forces.
But now, he was astonished by the strength of the fortress defenders.
‘I thought these natives were nothing but insects.’
The Greenmane Tribe had managed to conquer much of northwestern Gangwon Province.
A species born for war, with the Greenmane Tribe’s forces among the strongest, this success was a testament to their strength.
Of course, they hadn’t fully stabilized their conquered territory; there were still threats within their lands.
‘Those who guard the natives’ armories are prime examples.’
Securing these weapons had been costly for the tribe.
But among those threats, the natives had never been significant.
Most of them couldn’t even sense magic, and those who could were still far weaker than the tribe’s warriors.
Yet now, that perception was shifting.
"Hahahahaha!!!"
‘Does he not feel pain?’
While he expected resistance from the fortress defenders, Haraval had not anticipated his warriors would be pushed back within the fortress itself.
The native defenders inside were strong.
Even those knocked back by his attacks were as powerful as his own warriors, if not stronger.
Among them, one warrior in particular stood out.
*Boom!*
Haraval’s attack struck Corporal Jeon again.
He expected the damage to be severe, but...
"Ha... Haha! Come on! Hit me harder!"
The more injuries Corporal Jeon sustained, the more he seemed to revel in the fight.
Even from afar, Haraval had sensed that this was a powerful foe.
That’s why he, the commander, had intervened personally.
‘But this... what is this?’
The Greenmane Tribe revered combat.
Yet, even among his tribe, Haraval had never encountered such unbridled madness.
Then, a story came to mind.
An ancient legend passed down within the tribe.
No one truly believed it, but every child who dreamed of becoming a warrior had heard of it at least once.
"A berserker?"
The berserker was said to be unstoppable until the battle was over.
The more they were wounded, the more pleasure they derived from it, and the stronger they became.
A true warrior of legend.
Haraval accepted what he saw.
This warrior was a threat to his tribe.
"So the shaman wasn’t entirely wrong."
The shaman had spoken of something beyond their comprehension—a being that could make the impossible possible.
‘I thought it was just the ramblings of a frightened shaman.’
But if this warrior truly was a berserker, then making the impossible possible wasn’t so far-fetched.
Haraval decided.
"I will kill you here."
*Crunch!*
With all his might, Haraval swung his axe down, lodging it into Corporal Jeon’s shoulder.
Even a warrior from legend couldn’t fully unleash his potential yet.
As a future Grand Warrior of the tribe, Haraval was more than a match.
* * *
*Crunch!*
The axe pierced through Corporal Jeon’s defense.
The enormous axe buried itself into his shoulder.
Under normal circumstances, the force should have cleaved his body in two.
But his armor—crafted with the combined efforts of skilled engineers and tailors, reinforced by the metal-consuming Mac—protected him.
[Intermediate Armorer and Engineer's Reinforced Steel Skin Combat Armor]
Not just any leather armor.
The armor had been reinforced with steel plates over vital areas and layered with the hide of a Steel Lizard.
The army’s finest armor absorbed much of the impact.
But even so...
"Grrk!"
The armor couldn’t completely withstand Haraval’s blow.
The steel plating cracked, the leather tore, and the giant axe bit deep into Corporal Jeon’s shoulder, revealing bone.
A sharp pain shot through his back.
"Heh... Heh heh..."
For most, such pain would have caused unconsciousness.
But for Corporal Jeon...
"Hahahahahaha!!!"
He transformed that pain into madness.
With [Madness] fully unleashed, it enveloped him like armor.
Gone was any semblance of human language or rational thought as he lunged like a beast.
"We need to help Corporal Jeon!"
"No, stay back! This is beyond our level!"
Corporal Jeon Gwang-il, Corporal Seo Su-hyeok, and Sergeant Lee Min-jae—these three were among the strongest in the squad, each a formidable leader.
Among them, Corporal Jeon was unique.
Ordinarily, he wasn’t as powerful as the other two.
But his profession was that of a "berserker."
When he unleashed [Madness], he transformed into a monster, surpassing even his fellow squad leaders.
Yet here was a creature able to match, and even overwhelm, such a monster.
With the other high-ranking soldiers occupied in other areas of the battle, the regular soldiers had no choice but to request reinforcements.
“Someone, go call the other corporals and sergeants!”
As the soldiers moved to get help, only one thought filled Corporal Jeon’s mind.
‘This is... thrilling!’
The green giant before him was powerful.
Each attack hit like a hammer.
Just one mistake, one misstep, and waves of pain would course through his body.
‘This ends with one of us dead!’
But the pain was fleeting.
In its place came ecstasy.
‘An honorable death awaits me!’
Consumed by madness, Corporal Jeon resolved to fight until his last breath.
Haraval understood that his opponent would not back down.
The fierce battle between the two continued.
Time passed.
Finally, one of Corporal Jeon’s knees hit the ground.
He was too injured to continue.
But even then, Corporal Jeon laughed, extending his fist defiantly.
"A true warrior."
Haraval looked down at Corporal Jeon.
"I thought the natives were nothing but weak insects, but that was my arrogance. To witness a berserker—a warrior of legend—before my very eyes..."
Despite his injuries rendering him immobile, Corporal Jeon continued to raise his fist, refusing to relent.
Though weaker now, Haraval could see the potential threat this warrior would pose to the tribe in time.
"If you had a little more time to grow... even the Great Warrior might have faced danger."
Given a little more time, it would have been Haraval lying defeated on the ground.
"How fortunate I am," he muttered. "To have the chance to cut down this budding threat before it fully blossoms."
"Grrr..."
"And that shaman's warning—it must have been about you. Which means... if I kill you here, there’s no one left for me to fear."
Haraval lifted his dual-wielded axes, aiming them at Corporal Jeon’s neck.
"This was a good fight. We shall meet again on the hills of war, berserker..."
Just as his axes were about to strike Corporal Jeon’s neck—
*Slash*
The sound of flesh tearing echoed.
But it wasn’t Corporal Jeon’s neck that was cut.
"Gah... gahk...?"
Haraval, the revered chieftain of the Greenmane Tribe, a warrior beloved by even the Great Warrior, let out a strangled groan of pain.
Unable to endure the agony that shot up his spine, Haraval dropped to his knees.
"What... what just happened...?!"
Struggling to comprehend the pain, Haraval tried to grasp the situation.
Then, a voice spoke from nearby.
"Wow. This one’s got a tough bone structure."
Corporal Jeon Gwang-il, Corporal Seo Su-hyeok, and Sergeant Lee Min-jae—all of them were stronger than the average soldier by several degrees.
But there was one man in the battalion—a man whose strength was in a league of its own, making comparisons with others pointless.
