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Krika opened his eyes. The back of his neck throbbed, and his stomach felt hot as if it was churning.
"Dammit," Krika cursed after surveying the situation.
'They came to kidnap Bilker from the start. Crafty bastards.'
Krika was carried while lying on his stomach behind a horse. His arms were tightly bound behind his back, leaving him helpless.
Bilker, riding the horse, saw that Krika had woken up and spoke to him.
"Are you awake?"
"You shut up, you are a dumbass."
Krika cursed. It was already over. He had failed in his mission, and even if he made it back to the northern encampment by himself, he wouldn't be able to avoid reprimand.
The northern warriors had gone to great lengths to find Mijorn's descendant. They wouldn't let Krika off easily for failing to protect Bilker.
"A real man should take up arms and fight the enemy. What even are you? If your wife gets taken or something in the future, are you just going to hide and watch? Huh?"
Krika said to Bilker without a hint of respect. Bilker averted his gaze, looking fearful.
"You shut your mouth, you brat. This esteemed gentleman is scared because of you," Urich said, slapping Krika's back.
"You son of a bitch!"
Krika glared at Urich and struggled until he fell off the horse.
"Not a dog, a human. You and I both," Urich chuckled as...
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