'Someone from the mountain'
The moment those words left the Barbarian King's lips, the atmosphere changed instantly.
The followers, who had descended with him, went wide-eyed, their faces a mix of shock and awe.
Even Bronn, who had fought alongside Amelia, turned to her with a new sense of realization.
His easygoing demeanor cracked as surprise flickered in his eyes, trying to process what he had just learned.
The same thought ran through all their minds, No wonder she is so powerful.
Amelia, however, remained composed. Her expression did not change, unaffected by the recognition or the astonished stares of the barbarians.
Bronn, still reeling from the revelation, looked at her with a slight awe. "Big sister... you're really from the Mountain?"
Amelia gave a small nod, confirming it without a word.
The barbarian's posture stiffened as the weight of Amelia's origins sank in.
Suddenly, her immense strength and calm presence made perfect sense.
They stood in silent awe, their eyes filled with both respect and fear.
The Grimhold, where they now stood, was an isolated land from the rest.
To the east stretched a wild, untamed ocean.
To the west, the snow-capped mountains loomed high, ancient and imposing.
These mountains weren't just a natural barrier; they marked the border to something far greater.
They stood between the Grimhold and the human land, making travel nearly impossible.
But that wasn't the real reason the barbarians never ventured beyond those peaks.
Those mountains were home to the Holy Lands.
The Holy Lands, one of the most powerful forces in the world, lay hidden in those snowy peaks, an ancient power as old as the Grimhold itself.
From time to time, students from the Holy Lands would descend into the Grimhold to train, to test their strength against monster beasts, and occasionally, against the barbarian tribes themselves.
"A feast it is!" he declared, clapping Spark on the back with a heavy hand.
"Even if you say so," Spark muttered, glancing toward Amelia, "she's far too busy to bother with something like a feast."
Amelia, who had been silent until now, thoughtfully placed a finger on her chin, her gaze drifting as if pondering something serious.
"I've rarely left the mountain," she said calmly. "Trying a delicacy from Grimhold might be an interesting change."
Her words, calm and slow, landed like a boulder on Spark's already failing attempt to avoid the feast.
His eye twitched, and his shoulders sagged in defeat.
"You were supposed to reject the offer," he muttered under his breath.
The Barbarian King roared with laughter, his voice ringing out even louder than before. "That settles it!"
Just as the mood seemed to shift into celebration, Amelia spoke up again, her tone still composed. "What about the deceased?"
The Barbarian King turned, raising a brow. "Do you wish to bury them?"
Amelia nodded solemnly. "It's only right. Their families should have the chance to retrieve them."
For a moment, the Barbarian King's eyes softened at her words. With a wave of his hand, he motioned to his men. "My warriors will handle it."
"But," Amelia continued, her gaze sweeping over the bodies. "Give them a day or two. If no one comes for them, then you can lay them to rest."
The Barbarian King gave a firm nod, his respect for her evident.
"That's fair," he agreed. "Now, let's get moving."
With that, the four of them, Bronn, his father, Spark, and Amelia, left the ruins behind.
The journey was mostly quiet, aside from the occasional rumble of the Barbarian King's voice.
"Oh, lad," the Barbarian King suddenly said, breaking the silence, "I almost forgot, your old man was here recently, searching for you."
Spark's eyes widened slightly, a sharp glint flashing through his usually indifferent gaze. "Oh? Where?"
The Barbarian King shook his head. "He's already gone. Didn't stay long."
"He came here searching for me in person?" Spark's voice, usually calm and detached, held a note of curiosity. "If he came himself, then something serious must be happening back home."