Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound - Chapter 54

Episode 54 Slave of the Savage Tribe (3)

Balak’s youngest hunting leader, Iyan.

She led the young people of Balak and ran freely throughout the jungle without fear.

Iyen also met an embarrassing adversary after a long time.

His name is Bikir. He must be the slave he captured by raiding the territory of the empire a while ago.

“…”

Ayen was looking at Vikir with a blank expression.

As if he didn’t need anyone’s help, Bikir was building a tent to live in, moving quickly despite his uncomfortable body.

Spinning, tickling…

Ten or three or four trees, a little over two meters in length, hang down in an orderly manner, and a paste of mud, stone powder, lime powder, and water is applied to the sides.

Leaves were applied to the walls of the architectural structure, which were mixed with dry and wet methods, and animal skins were covered on top of them.

The tent quickly had doors and windows fitted, and the floor was covered with sawdust and fallen leaves.

The few building materials given to slaves were sufficient.

In less than 30 minutes, the tent that Bikir could sleep in was completed.

“Order accomplished.”

Bikir looked back at Iyen with a hard, dry voice.

The first order Iyen gave to Bikir was to ‘build his own house’.

Ayen looked into Bikir’s tent with a puzzled expression.

There was a small hole in the ceiling and a cover to close it in case of rain.

There was even a small firepit built into the floor inside, and a hole for the smoke to escape stretched out across the floor of the tent.

When the fire was turned off for a meal, the smoke passed under the floor and heated up to the floor of the tent.

The smoke was taken out, the heat from the residual fire was contained, and the ventilation and lighting were perfect.

Ayen asked dumbfounded.

“…How do you build a tent so well?”

She was the one who was expecting Bikir to whimper in pain.

Iyen secretly hid the building materials he had been trying to show condescension by subtly giving them to Bikir when he was struggling.

A sturdy wooden stick or oil to use when baking bricks.

However, Bikir, as if there was no need for such a thing, found and brought calcareous soil and chose the way to harden it with water.

In preparation for rain or wind, a screen was erected with large fallen leaves.

‘……It’s been a while.’

Swordsmen who had passed through the era of destruction were not supposed to use only swords well.

He was able to survive only by mastering all sorts of survival techniques to survive while camping in the hot and cold polar regions.

So Bikir also mastered quite a few household chores.

After Bikir built the house, he trimmed the hides piled up near Ayen’s tent and patched up the torn fabric.

A drainage system was also repaired near the tent, and a little firewood for today was chopped up.

Quick and easy……

Before the owner tells you to do something, you judge and act on your own, and take care of all the annoying chores.

Literally a class A slave.

“The bricks under the chieftain’s tent look unstable.”

“…Huh? Mother’s house?”

“Yes. In that state, when the rainy season comes later, the ground of the central pillar of the tent will shake and water may leak. If you give an order, you will mix the calcareous soil below with the stone dust from the hill on the other side, make bricks, and bake them with oil to reinforce them. would.”

“…That’s it. I was just thinking that way too.”

Iyen scratched his head.

Bikir really did.

Moving with his limp leg, he fetched white soil from the mountain behind him, and brought stones from the hill on the other side, broke them, and mixed them with the soil.

After that, water was poured into the dough, which was formed into a rectangular shape and baked, and the baked bricks were coated with hyena oil and dried.

With the bricks made in this way, the bottom of the tent was built, and the tent became even stronger.

At first, Aquila, who was annoyed at what kind of Busan this was, seemed quite satisfied when the repair work was over.

“Now the ceiling won’t leak water. No matter how many leaves or leather the ceiling is covered with, it was annoying that the water kept leaking, but the pedestal was the problem.”

Aquila still didn’t pay much attention to Bikir.

However, he always gave orders to go around the chieftain’s barracks to observe, maintain, and repair trifles.

Iyen seemed dissatisfied with the fact that his own slaves had to spend most of their time servicing the chieftain’s barracks, but he did not protest.

It just keeps whining in the background while Bikir digs a ditch around Aquila’s barracks and installs a strainer over it to keep leaves and silt from accumulating.

“Hey. Is it okay to work alone?”

Like doing something non-trivial.

So do you do it alone or in a group?

If you ask back, there are usually several unknown words after that.

“Hmmmm, is work fun? You’ve been working since before.”

“Should it be the rainy season? Should I dig a drain already?”

“Your house doesn’t have this, right? Eat it and do it.”

“……The master is talking to you, can you answer me?”

I had been ignoring Bikir since earlier, judging that it interfered with my work, but Iyen, after disappearing for a while, would appear again and continue to walk around it.

At this point, it was impossible to know who was the master and who was the slave.

…puck! …puck! …puck! Click!

Bikir even finished the laundry with lye and a bat.

From being the youngest in the field to being a seasoned veteran, Pathfinder herbalists, healers, cooks, assassins, cleaning, laundry, cooking, and so on, all the experiences he hadn’t done before were put to good use here.

‘It seems like they keep making excuses for the era of destruction… but it was an era that was just as fierce.’

It was Bikir who was soaked in melancholy for a while as he remembered the old days while doing laundry.

“…… Kheuhm. Hmm hmm.”

Beside him, Iyan, who had stepped up to demonstrate, was watching as she quietly hid her torn leather skirt behind her back.

* * *

……Meanwhile.

Vikir is good at anything by herself due to her experience of surviving in the age of destruction.

Even he, who was rather content with a slave’s daily routine, which was much more spacious than in the Baskervilles or the Underdog City, had one opponent that would be embarrassing.

“Oh cool.”

Her name would be the princess of Balak, the savage tribe of Ayen.

She was urinating perched on top of a ditch Bikir had just dug.

“I’ve been patient for a long time, and a lot comes out.”

“…”

“Oh, master, are you supposed to watch him pee so hard?”

Ayen openly spread his legs and urinated next to Bikir at work.

Bikir asked dumbfounded.

“What are you doing?”

“Mark territory. This is my slave’s house, so it’s also my house.”

“……Can’t you cover it?”

“What’s wrong with defecation? There’s no such thing in our tribe.”

Rather, it is Iyen who openly lifts her skirt more as if to look at it.

Bikir put his hand on his face and turned his head.

Come to think of it, one day I saw a research paper on the savage tribe.

『The savage tribes of Red and Black Mountains have free sex with each other. Both men and women have no objection to exposing each other’s genitals because you need to know first whether the other person has fertility or has an STD before intercourse

.

It was a real custom and a culture with its own reasons, so Bikir decided not to have prejudice.

“But don’t be cheap, at least around the house.”

“Why? Even a few hundred years ago, didn’t you imperial people just throw excrement out of the window? There was filth piled up on the streets, so they said they wore high heels? They also sprayed perfume.”

I heard it and it is true.

Bikir had nothing to say, so he kept his mouth shut.

In the middle of this and that conversation, all the chores were over.

Balak was very laid-back when not fighting or hunting, and for the ever-industrious Bikir, he could not help but think that life as a slave here was far more comfortable than when he had trained and worked in the Baskervilles or the city of the Underdog.

However, Iyen was making a strange expression looking at Bikir.

“hey.”

“……?”

“Wouldn’t you like to become a formal member of our tribe soon?”

what is this again?

As Bikir frowned, Ayen came closer and sat down.

Her legs were still wide open, so she could see through her skirt, so she fixed her gaze upward.

Iyen said.

“Isn’t it hard to do only slave work?”

“It’s not bad.”

“Your speaking education went well. But since you’re in the position of a slave, it’s hard to dare to complain.”

“…No, it’s not really bad.”

“It can’t be bad. I only do such hard and menial things.”

Iyen waved his hand, as if he didn’t even want to think about cleaning or doing laundry.

“Don’t do that. Follow me.”

“……?”

“I will help you. So that you can adapt to this tribe and live.”

There is no right to veto in the yard already enslaved.

Ayen tapped the leash still on Bikir’s neck once.

“If you’re good, I’ll take this off too.”

This offer is a bit tempting.

I had just been thinking that this noose around my neck was annoying.

“…What can I do?”

When Vikir asked, Ayen answered with twinkling eyes.

“hunt.”

“……hunt?”

“The big one.”

It looks like you can go hunting and catch a big game.

Hagiya Balak is a tribe that accumulates food mainly through hunting.

In order to evenly distribute food to nearly 300 people, a wild boar weighing more than 200 kg must be consumed one a day.

That’s on the premise that supplementary foods such as mushrooms, berries, edible roots, etc. are supported.

Recently, the warriors in the tribe couldn’t catch enough game, so more and more people ate only mushrooms or nuts for days.

“If you can bring a big piece of meat at a time like this, even your cotton cloth is not a dream.”

At Iyen’s words, Bikire made a strange expression.

The situation is a little ironic to hear that it is cotton cloth from a barbarian.

But it wasn’t a bad suggestion.

“All you have to do is assist me. It looks like there’s no problem moving around or carrying light loads.”

Ayen said with a twinkle in her eyes.

I couldn’t tell if her intentions were really to catch big game or just that.

“Okay. Eggplant.”

However, Bikir decided to follow Ayen’s suggestion for now.

Being a slave anyway, he had no other choice.

Bikir nodded, and Iyen immediately continued.

“I’ll be leaving this morning.”

“Okay. But why are you laughing so much earlier?”

“Huh? When did I laugh?”

Ayen laughs bashfully without even realizing it, but after hearing Bikir’s words, he straightens his face.

……Somehow, it was a slightly suspicious attitude.