A fresh start.
It meant to become clean, to be purified of one's past sins, failures, or even laziness—the greatest taboo among barbarians.
But it also meant something simpler and harder: to begin again.
To forget everything one had learned and learn anew. To adapt again. To rebuild oneself from the ground up.
It wasn't easy. Forgetting was the hardest part, especially after living a certain way for so long.
Caelen was now facing that exact struggle. He had been a barbarian all his life. Maybe not a great one, but a decent one.
When it came to training, he was among the best.
And yet, in a single day, he learned he might not be a barbarian at all.
The worst part was that it made sense.
After everything Idel told him about the magi, Caelen couldn't help but admit that he felt more like one of them than a true barbarian.
That didn't mean he had to abandon who he was. It just meant he had more to learn than he ever imagined.
---
Caelen didn't move slowly. He didn't have the luxury to.
He wasn't a farmer on his own choice, he was sent here. In Barbara, there was no useless barbarian.
Everyone was given a duty if they didn't have one of their own.
And Caelen was given the duty to do farming in this village to produce food for the warriors.
So, what he was doing now was a crime.
Even if he had nothing to do with the magus and the crystal fragment, he would be punished for leaving the village without prior notice or necessity.
Adding to that, the barbarian warriors in the village would just make it worse. So, he needed to leave fast.
It wasn't impossible for him to be caught after he ran away, but it would be very hard.
Barbara wasn't equipped with technology, unlike Elarith, according to Idel.
That meant his name and appearance wouldn't spread quickly.
Even when it did, it wouldn't be definite, meaning people wouldn't know it was him.
He didn't even need to change his name since it was a classic barbarian name.
I wonder what kind of name my real parents had thought of for me...
By now, he had known that his real parents were magi since his Crest of Knowledge was sealed with a spell.
So, unless they worked with a magus in a different nation, which was hard according to Idel, since before the war, the nations didn't interfere with each other's business, his parents lived in Elarith.
But they probably gave him a different name so that he could live as a barbarian.
He didn't mind that at all, though.
He didn't resent his parents. Caelen knew that if they didn't send him away, he would be killed.
He also loved his current parents. He wouldn't change them for anything.
They had brought him up in the best way possible, even though he wasn't their real son.
I wonder if they knew about my second crest or my real family... Anyway, it is not the time to think about that.
Currently, Caelen was moving toward the other end of the continent.
According to Idel, the three continents were shared evenly among the five nations before the war.
Barbarians and magi were on the same continent, Continent Elura, keeping each other in check.
There was a second continent, connected to Elura at three different spots. Both were about the same size. Another two nations thrived there.
And then, there was the third continent. It was only big enough for a single nation to fit in. But it wasn't connected to any of the other continents.
Of course, after the war, everything mostly changed.
Caelen was told that Elarith, the nation of magi, was still on Elura. But it was very small, making it easier to defend.
But Caelen needed to go there before crossing to the other continents to find more crystal fragments.
However, even before that, he had another destination.
So, he wasn't going in a straight line.
Since the village he stayed in was on the southernmost side of the continent, he needed to head north.
But, he was going northeast through the forest.
Rumble
"Get out of the way!"
"Huh?"
"Don't let it escape! Catch it, now!"
What the hell? What is that?
Something was rushing toward Caelen fast. It wasn't massive, but definitely big enough to crash into him.
It had someone riding on it. And behind it, several people were running in pursuit and hurling anything they could find.
Stones. Branches. Whatever the forest offered.
But they weren't just anyone. They were barbarians. So, even a branch became a deadly projectile.
They smashed through trunks and gouged holes in the ground.
Caelen was still deep in the woods. He'd chosen this path precisely so he wouldn't run into anyone.
There was no road here. No reason for a carriage to be around.
So what the hell was that?
"Hey, you! Move!" shouted the person riding the thing.
Caelen stood frozen. Whatever it was, it was faster than any carriage he'd ever seen.
It was speeding through the trees as if the forest didn't slow it down.
Is this the "technology" thing Idel mentioned? Caelen wondered.
Idel had told him about it. They were tools powered by knowledge, tools the barbarians didn't understand or use.
So Caelen guessed this had to be one of them.
He was half right.
He was half right. This was a product of technology.
It worked with magic infusion, so only those who had a Crest of Knowledge could ride it.
A kind of half-hovering ride meant for speed and maneuverability.
But Caelen didn't know any of that. He just knew it was fast. And it was coming right at him.
The rider swerved to avoid him at the last second.
But Caelen, unaware it could swerve, jumped aside too.
Unfortunately, they both dodged in the same direction.
They collided.
Caelen went flying. He smashed into a tree, crashed through it, then slammed into another one behind it.
Not far, but far enough to leave him groaning in pain.
The device skidded to a halt, and the rider tumbled across the ground, rolling over rocks and roots. Thankfully, they were wearing a helmet.
But the ones chasing didn't stop. They were still coming—fast.
Caelen opened his eyes with a groan. He'd already spent the night sore and aching. Now this?
A magus would've been crushed or broken a few bones. But thanks to his barbarian body, he was still in one piece.
He pushed himself to his feet, brushed off the dirt, and ran toward the fallen rider.
Something about it worried him.
When he got there, the rider was already sitting up, undoing the helmet strap.
As the helmet came off, crimson hair spilled down her back like a river of fire.
And her eyes—vivid green—locked onto his.
Her face was beautiful. But her voice?
It was...
Furious.
"Are you out of your mind? Why didn't you move? Do you want to die?"