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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 002
Chapter Title: If There's No Weapon, Tear It Apart with Bare Hands
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Before resuming the bear hunt, there was one thing I absolutely had to address: the original owner of this body, Attila.
"Ah...!"
His identity came to me in a flash.
The ill-fated character killed in a scheme by 'Breda,' Munjuk's younger brother and my uncle.
"That's the guy."
An extra mentioned just once through Breda's lips, not even granted a proper name.
That was Attila.
"No wonder the name felt so unfamiliar."
Breda had eliminated Attila because he was the child Munjuk loved more than anyone.
To fuel his ambitions, Breda needed to shatter Munjuk's composure, and the plan had worked flawlessly.
"Finally, you've died for me, brother! Kuhahaha!"
He'd succeeded in assassinating the long-awaited Munjuk and seized the chieftain's position.
The one who aided Breda was Ivar.
"So that's why I didn't want to kill him."
With Attila's revival, the Black Wolf Tribe's history had changed.
Breda could no longer assassinate Munjuk in the same way as in the original story.
"I was going to learn Breda's future plans through Ivar."
But Ivar was dead.
By no one's hand but Attila's.
"No matter."
The bear had appeared out of nowhere.
Ivar had been utterly shocked by its sudden arrival.
The implication was obvious.
"Cut loose pretty quickly, didn't they? Ivar."
Thud. Ivar's headless body crumpled to the ground.
Attila stared indifferently at the blood-soaked hand axe in his grip.
"Memories of a barbarian? Or is it because this is the world of the Bawang Hero Chronicle that I created?"
His first murder ever.
Yet Attila's heartbeat didn't quicken in the slightest.
"Interesting."
A faint smile tugged at Attila's lips.
The others, however, were far from amused.
"Attila! What have you done?!"
Two brothers charged toward him, faces etched with shock.
Their sister blocked their path.
"Are you blind? Ivar attacked first."
"But, sister!"
"Have you forgotten the tribe's laws?!"
At her sharp rebuke, the two brothers bit their lips and fell back.
The two axes that had nearly flown at Attila were redirected toward the bear.
Their sister drew her own axes in both hands.
"Can you fight, Attila?"
A pointless question.
Attila's lithe body lunged straight at the bear.
* * *
Hidden in the underbrush, biding his time, Breda let out a sneer upon witnessing Ivar's death.
"Well, I was planning to kill him anyway."
Better this way, even.
In a situation where every hand counted, the enemy had lost full strength. With one silver-belt warrior and two bronze-belt warriors, they couldn't subdue three bears even in their dreams.
"Though Ivar alive wouldn't have changed much anyway."
The wildcard was Attila.
Breda's eyes darkened.
"It's not just potential. That kid's undoubtedly the reincarnation of the Great Martial God King."
How else could a dead man heal his wounds and revive in a single day?
But.
"He's still just a fresh-faced youth who's barely completed his coming-of-age rite. He can't take on three rampaging mother bears."
A smug, confident sneer curled Breda's lips.
The method he'd used to kill Attila had been this:
"How'd I kill him, you ask? I slaughtered the bear cubs sleeping in their den while the mother was away, then scattered his scent-marked clothes around."
"After that, it was simple. Ivar herded rabbits to block his escape routes. The fool jumped right into the mother bear's jaws. Kuhahaha!"
Today followed the same broad strokes.
The differences: the number of enraged mother bears had increased to three, and the human scent they tracked wasn't solely Attila's.
"I'll kill every last one of them."
The bears and humans closed the distance in an instant.
The first clash: the lead bear's slashing forepaw met Attila's swinging axe.
Crack. The axe handle splintered with a grotesque snap, and the now-unobstructed paw slammed straight into Attila's face.
* * *
"Ah. What the hell."
Smashed against a tree trunk, Attila clutched his throbbing head and hauled his upper body upright.
He'd taken it head-on.
Like being struck by heavy machinery—his vision blacked out, brain rattled.
"Damn it."
Attila opened his right fist and peered at the fragments inside.
It wasn't the bear that had broken the axe handle.
[Power: Bravery]
"Crazy. I crushed it with just my grip strength!"
Unbelievable.
"Crushed the handle just by squeezing a bit? How am I supposed to wield any weapon like this?"
But there was no time to complain.
His brothers were visibly struggling against the three bears; it wouldn't be surprising if they dropped dead any second.
"If this keeps up, they'll really die."
Rising to his feet, Attila scanned for anything usable as a weapon, but nothing caught his eye.
So he charged in bare-handed.
* * *
Ilek grew increasingly anxious.
"I have to do something. Attila's dead, and my little brothers can't take down that bear."
She believed Attila was gone.
The moment the bear's paw had smashed into his face, a thunderous boom had echoed—like lightning striking. No one could survive such a devastating blow.
"Failed to protect him again."
Clenching her fists, her gaze shifted to her brothers.
As expected, the two could barely hold off one bear.
Roooar!
In that instant, the frenzied bear's forepaw rocketed toward Ilek.
The same horrific strike that had pulverized Attila's skull moments ago.
Ilek angled her axe to deflect it, dodging the follow-up as well.
"Chance!"
Her thigh muscles bulged, unleashing explosive power.
In a flash, she scaled the bear's arm to its shoulder and swung her axe at the exposed throat.
But she'd forgotten one thing.
She wasn't facing just one bear.
"Sis, sister!"
Another bear lunged from behind, its fangs sinking into Ilek's calf.
Caught off guard, her axe missed its mark and clattered to the ground.
The bear thrashed its head wildly, as if intent on shredding her leg entirely.
"Grraaah...!"
Her world spun like a whirlwind.
She saw her target bear whirl around, forepaw slashing forth.
"Is this how it ends...?"
Yet the bear's paw never reached her.
Its arm stretched out like a crimson thread, rocketing into the sky.
As if some incomprehensible being above had yanked it with all its might.
"That's...!"
The reason became clear at once.
What looked like a red thread was blood erupting from the bear's severed shoulder. The limb, torn free by unimaginable force, defied gravity and soared upward.
Ilek's eyes widened.
"Attila!"
The bear's opposite arm followed the same path, detaching from its body.
Then Attila twisted off the head of the now-armless beast, tossed it aside, and extended a hand toward her. At the horrifying sight, Ilek screamed in a voice she'd never uttered before.
"KyaAAaah!"
But Attila's target wasn't her.
His hand seized the bear's lower jaw and ripped it free with brute force.
Perched atop the geyser of blood from the bear's shoulders, Attila drove his fist into its skull like a cannon shell.
Boom!
Just like that, her body was free.
The bear's shoulders, where she'd been pinned, had vaporized—leaving only brain matter, bone shards, and assorted shredded remains.
As Attila set Ilek down, he chuckled.
"Didn't know you had a voice like that in you?"
It wasn't his usual deferential tone, but Ilek didn't even register it.
Before she could respond, Attila charged the remaining bear, which met the same gruesome end as the first two without meaningful resistance.
"Th-this is..."
"No way..."
"Warrior God Tyr...!"
Ilek and the two brothers gaped at Attila like he was a monster.
* * *
"W-what do we do, boss? Attack?"
"Attila's gotten that strong...?!"
"T- tore a bear apart with his bare hands! I've never even heard of such a thing!"
"Useless fools."
Breda clicked his tongue.
Subduing the current Attila with these cowards was impossible.
Time for the next play.
"Withdraw."
* * *
Ivar's funeral was a modest affair.
It wasn't an honorable death in battle with another tribe or during a hunt.
"So that's what happened with Ivar, huh."
Thanks to the consistent testimony from his sister and brothers, Attila faced no reprimand.
Instead, a feast erupted to celebrate his coming-of-age rite, featuring the abundant meat from the hunted bears.
"Attila brought back tons of bear meat!"
"Kuhahaha! Let's eat and drink till we burst!"
Before returning to the village, Attila had stopped by the cave where the cubs were slaughtered.
There, clothes belonging to him, Ilek, and their brothers were discovered.
Learning the full story, Munjuk flew into a rage.
"That bastard, right now—!"
But Breda and his cronies had already vanished.
And Attila knew where they'd gone.
'Blood Axe Tribe.'
Attila smirked.
'Breda won't give up that easily. Time to prepare for what's next.'
The next evening, Attila was summoned by Munjuk.
"You called, Father?"
Munjuk led Attila to the training grounds.
He pressed a gleaming hand axe into Attila's palm, then gripped a wooden club.
"...What are you doing?"
"Can't you tell? I'm going to teach you a thing or two."
"But why are you holding that flimsy bat?"
"Bat?"
"Oh. I mean the stick."
Munjuk's eyes bulged round before he erupted in booming laughter.
"Uhhahaha! Just like Ilek said! You've become a full warrior overnight!"
"Black Wolf tribesmen are warriors from birth, aren't they?"
"Right you are! Damn straight. Kuhahaha!"
Munjuk's laughter faded.
"I heard about your bravery from Ilek. Took down three bears single-handedly? Do you grasp how incredible that is?"
Of course he did.
"You still seem dazed by your own feat. Let me explain. In our mighty Black Wolf Tribe, how many bears do you think a gold-belt warrior can hunt at once?"
Three.
"Yes, it's natural you wouldn't know, having just finished your rite. The answer is three. In other words, no warrior who can't hunt three bears at once can ever become a gold-belt warrior."
Munjuk eyed Attila slyly.
Fidgeting with the gold belt hidden in his robes.
'Get it? That means you've earned the right to become a gold-belt warrior. My son!'
But contrary to his expectations, Attila looked unimpressed. He tossed aside the axe and picked up one of the bats.
"Son. What are you doing?"
"I can't risk accidentally killing you, Father."