A Barbarus Story

Chapter 23 22. A Tale of a Barbaran

Warning, these next few chapters are heavy! If you can't handle it, please skip directly to chapter 29. I really don't know how to rewrite these chapters, so readers who can't take it, please skip ahead.

I've warned you three times! I've tried my best (_).

Barbarus.

Herrela was an ordinary Barbaran woman.

Her early life was the epitome of billions of ordinary Barbaran girls.

Herrela was born in an unnamed village near Nac'Lare's territory. From the moment she could remember, her world was composed of yellowish-brown toxic gas and endless fear.

She waited ignorantly in a room made of earthen blocks, eagerly awaiting her parents' return.

Her mother would come back and touch her cheek with her chapped hands, smile at her, and then turn to cook porridge.

When she was a little older, she would hold her sister's hand, stepping shallowly and deeply in the muddy village road, standing at the entrance of the village, gazing into the distance, waiting for her parents to return from farming.

In the distance were the mountains shrouded in toxic gas, the vaguely visible peaks hidden in the shadows of the mist. Her parents had said that the true masters of this planet lived there.

At that time, Herrela was still young, and she didn't understand why those lords could withstand the deadly toxic gas.

When she grew old enough to pick up a hoe, her parents took her to cultivate their own fields. She picked up the hoe and dug into the bitter earth blocks, one stroke at a time.

Her sister stood at the entrance of the village, continuing to gaze at her and her parents, waiting for their return.

The village alarm bell rang, night was approaching, and she ran back to their home with her parents, feeling a little scared and a little excited.

Her life passed day by day in farming, second by second in breathing toxic gas.

She had once boldly and curiously walked to the end of the fields, where the thickening toxic gas was like a solid wall, imprisoning the humans inside.

Herrela raised a hand, carefully touching the life-like toxic gas with her fingertips, lightly corroding her fingertips. Herrela exclaimed and quickly withdrew her finger, with pale corrosive marks clearly visible.

Herrela didn't understand, on those high mountain peaks, where the toxic gas was tens of thousands of times thicker and more intense than here, could life really exist?

However, she knew that night.

When the gray night fell, and the yellowish-brown air slowly climbed the city walls—

The enslavers' puppets tore through the city walls, which Herrela thought were indestructible, as easily as tearing paper. Those creatures that completely defied the laws of physics, those monsters forcibly animated with witchcraft, stood at the door, their stitched eyes staring fixedly at her and her family.

The puppet, about two and a half meters tall, looked like it had been haphazardly stitched together from corpses. Black coarse linen threads were brutally exposed in the air, the ends of the knots soaked into the skin, and purulent yellow fluid overflowed from the flesh, the liquid climbing up the knots and solidifying into yellow scabs in the air.

It blocked the door with its bloated body, its turbid eyes staring at Herrela with malice.

Her parents were almost fainting from fear, but they still held her and her sister tightly, trembling all over.

But it was useless.

She was lifted out of the warm and fragile nest like a chick, evaluated, and then put down—

She was too weak and did not meet the strong standards for the lord's experimental materials.

Her parents and sister were lifted up and evaluated in turn. Her father was put down, and her sister was also put down.

Her mother was taken away.

Her mother stared at Herrela in despair and collapse. She was completely defeated. Her tired eyes were now full of tears. Her mother looked at them, seemingly hoping that they would continue to live well, and also seemingly hoping that they would come and save her.

However, Herrela, her father, and her sister had all been completely defeated by fear.

There was no hope.

Threatened by death, her mother began to struggle violently in the puppet's hands, frantically waving her limbs, fruitlessly hitting the giant hand that held her.

As if seeing something interesting, the puppet's ugly face twisted open, revealing a bizarre and cruel smile.

Its other hand, covered in mucus, easily and casually reached out and directly twisted off the limbs of this lowly person one by one.

Blood, minced meat, red blood, white bone spurs sticking out, those red dots falling in the dark blackness, turning gray and deteriorating instantly under the caress of the mist.

Her mother was screaming.

Convulsing.

Herrela fainted.

When she woke up, there were only three of them in the house.

Life had to go on.

After that, Herrela took her farming tools every day, followed her father out to cultivate in the early morning, and then ran home with the bell every dusk.

Those city walls that she once thought would protect their village were useless at all. The village was as dangerous as the wilderness, but she would still run back with the people when the bell rang.

She was already used to it.

She returned home, touched her sister's face with her chapped hands, smiled at her sister, and then went to cook porridge.

Her mother hadn't taught her how to cook, and her father was just a vague and silent silhouette in her life.

The first porridge she cooked boiled over, scalding her hand.

It's okay.

She was going to die.

She would die like her mother.

It was okay, everyone did.

It was really okay.

When the evening screams rang out again, Herrela hugged her sister tightly, huddling in the closet at home.

Her father had already gone mad when the screams started.

Perhaps recalling the horror of his wife's death, her father broke down. The man in his twenties, with streaks of gray in his hair, frantically opened the door and ran out.

He wanted to escape, but it was just a death wish.

Herrela wanted to save her father, but she couldn't.

Only death awaited.

The Nurgle's Rot Hounds, barking on the village road, quickly pounced, and flesh and blood splattered.

It was okay, everyone was going to die.

She hugged her sister tighter.

But Herrela wanted her sister to live a little longer. She wanted her sister to pass through the toxic fog and see the world outside the village, even if it was a barren wasteland there too.

Herrela gently patted her sister's head. Her sister's hair, like hers, was dry and messy from the corrosive effects of the poisonous gas.

"Shhh, I'm going to find Dad, you stay here and don't move."

Her sister was crying, pulling at Herrela.

"Don't go, please, let's go together, sister."

Herrela pulled her sister's hand away.

"Be good, and live well."

Then Herrela started running, she didn't look back.

She started running, her calves were shaking, her heart was pounding, her lungs were convulsing—she was going to die.

She ran desperately onto the main road. The Nurgle's Rot Hounds that were tearing at her father's corpse saw her. Her father's flesh and the hounds' saliva mixed together, dripping from their meat-covered lips.

Those fangs were aimed at her.

Herrela wanted to scream, wanted to shout something, wanted to tell them she wasn't afraid to die.

But she was completely gripped by fear, fear slowly grinding over her bones, tearing her flesh.

She couldn't control herself, she stopped, trembling all over, unable to take another step.

No, I am brave, I will use myself to exchange for my sister's life.

I am brave.

Herrela thought desperately, but as if piercing through all her courage and pride, the hounds, drooling, looked up towards—

Towards the direction of their house.

No!!!

Her sister!!! Laisa!! No!!

Herrela wanted to run, she wanted to save her sister, she wanted to save her sister!!!

She wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her mother she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister she wanted to save her sister

She couldn't save anyone.

She had already lost everything she could rely on, she had no reason to live, her life was a meaningless grayness, she had never done anything, she had never accomplished anything, she was merely alive, and then died meaninglessly, without value.

It's okay, Herrela, everyone dies.

It's okay.

Tears and snot covered her face. Herrela felt herself collapsing, she had gone mad. She knelt down in despair, her hands clutching her face, her hands and tears obscuring her vision.

Nothing mattered anymore.

She didn't care about any of it.

Come eat me, come tear me apart.

I'm just a useless piece of trash, without the courage to protect even my sister.

She was tired.

She gave up.

However, she did not hear her sister's screams.

The sound of blades cutting through flesh and blood whistled, the Nurgle's Rot Hounds howled miserably, and a muffled sound came—

Herrela no longer had the ability to understand any of this, she followed her inertia and continued to cry desperately.

"Don't cry."

A hand reached out, gently taking her hand away and carefully wiping the tears and snot from her face.

"Your sister isn't dead, you should go comfort her."

"You two, stop crying. We've already killed those hounds."

Herrela was still sobbing uncontrollably from the intense crying.

She looked up.

The young man was holding her sobbing sister in one arm. His gas mask obscured his face, but she could tell he was smiling.

He was backlit, the white light outlining his figure.

The man crouched down, a scythe in his other hand.

"You were very brave just now, sacrificing yourself to attract the hounds' attention, right?"

"Brave girl, join us and protect your family together."

"Oh, right, I'm Hades, a Death Guard."

This is the story of how Herrela joined the Death Guard.

This is also the story of how Herrela regained hope.

Putting a Barbarus girl here.

Added the QQ group number in the introduction.

Received a round of recommendation messages!!! Oh, oh, oh! Yay!

ヾ() So great