Chapter 220 |
Krika made a pit stop for a break with the northern warriors in a small village with a population of about three hundred people. There were no inns, so they spent the night in a tavern. The corners of the tavern were occupied by men who had passed out from drinking.
"We’ve let them get away with Bilker. We’re gonna get in trouble."
"Why do you think the plunderers from the west would take Bilker?"
"They probably joined hands with the bastards who follow Lou. I've heard the Sun Warriors are stationed in the west."
"What? Are they collaborating with traitors who betrayed their own people? Damn them!"
The warriors talked loudly. The villagers, realizing that they were warriors of Ulgaro, avoided discussing anything related to Lou.
It wasn't unusual for warriors to gather in groups during times like this. Warriors who roamed from one battlefield to another were unsure which side to join. Some even sided with the empire for money.
‘What a mess,’ Krika thought.
Krika had grown up among the warriors of Ulgaro. His father was a fanatical northern warrior.
Religious ideology and practicality were intertwined, causing northern people to make various choices and judgments. It was because there was no unifying force to bind them together.
‘That's why they so desperately wanted someone like Bilker.’
The north needed a hero like Mijorn.
"Krika, have a drink. You need to drink when you have a broken arm. It helps you sleep," the warriors said, offering the youngest Krika some alcohol.
The advice was coming from their own experience. The pain from an injury was the worst when one was trying to sleep. Even a decade-old injury could ache at night after feeling fine during the day.
Gulp.
Krika drank and wiped his mouth.
"You'll have to prepare yourself to face the consequences of losing Bilker, Krika. The warrior council will decide your fate."
"At worst, I die. What else?" Krika replied, making the warriors laugh.
"It would've been nice if you were the descendant of Mijorn. You're about the same age, too.”
Krika was a brave warrior. He had already shown promising skills, which was why he was chosen to guard Bilker despite his young age.
"Being a descendant of Mijorn doesn't seem all that great. You just end up getting kidnapped by everyone," Krika replied.
"That's true. But, just in case... No, I shouldn't say something like that too hastily.”
The warriors, who seemed like they were about to bring something up, stopped after glancing at each other.
Krika looked at them curiously.
"Whatever happens, I don't care. As long as there's another war. I'll cut down every single imperial soldier," a warrior changed the subject.
"My ass, you’d be lucky if you’re not the first one to get cut down."
"Do you want to go see Ulgaro today?"
"If you don’t like what I said, grab your weapons and shield and meet me in the back."
The warriors bickered, eventually throwing punches at each other. The brawl only stopped when one was beaten bloody. If they had used weapons, someone would have died, so it usually ended like this.
Clunk.
The tavern door opened, letting in a cold draft. It was rare to have customers this late.
All eyes turned to the entrance. About ten men entered, almost stuffing the small tavern that was already quite packed. The tavern owner looked troubled.
"There are no seats at the moment."
"Just let us sit anywhere we can avoid the cold. And bring us some drinks and meat," one of the men said, pulling out some gold coins.
The tavern owner took their coins and said no more.
The men cautiously looked around the tavern and then brought someone in. When Krika saw who it was, his eyes widened.
‘Bilker? Why is he here?’
Not just Krika, but the other northern warriors were also shocked as they recognized Bilker. He was with the men who had just walked into the tavern.
This was a golden opportunity for Krika and the northern warriors. They had no idea what was going on, but the Bilker they thought was lost was only a few steps away from them.
'Are they warriors who follow Lou? Why did they bring Bilker here?'
Krika and the northern warriors exchanged glances. They had to decide quickly. If the men who brought Bilker were enemies, it was best to attack now.
'These guys just came in from the cold. Their guards are down.'
If they attacked now, they were definitely going to win.
"Even if they're northern warriors who also follow Ulgaro, if we kill them here, we can claim the credit for taking back Bilker. Right? If they're followers of Lou, we need to kill them anyway. Either way, we have to attack."
One of the northern warriors bared his teeth as he spoke. The other warriors nodded in agreement.
"Krika, you better not be thinking we’re going to let you sit this one out just because your arm's injured. If we get Bilker back, it'll be good for you too."
The warrior next to Krika slipped him a hand axe. Krika gripped it, waiting for the action to start.
Crash!
The fight began when someone kicked over a table. Krika and the northern warriors jumped the men who had brought Bilker.
"Kaaagh! You sons of bitcheeeees!"
The ambushed men shouted as they fought back. Blood splattered, staining the tavern walls red.
It was easier to swing weapons than to talk and try to understand each other. The northern warriors didn’t hesitate to draw weapons if they felt even the slightest suspicion.
"Kill them all!"
The reason for the attack didn't matter. The men who brought Bilker attacked anyone and everyone that was not them. Even an innocent villager was caught in the fight and was stabbed.
The small village had no security to defend against such a group of warriors. The tavern quickly turned into a battlefield.
"Krika! Secure Bilker!"
Krika, with a broken arm, couldn't engage in direct combat. He jumped onto the second-floor railing of the tavern and gazed at Bilker.
"I knew it, they’re going for Bilker! You bastards! We're also warriors of Ulgaro!"
"It’s too late for friendly introductions! Bilker is coming with us!"
Swords clashed. Screams echoed.
Krika looked at Bilker, who was being protected at the center.
"Bilker! Be a man! Come over here!" he shouted.
But there was no response from Bilker. Krika clicked his tongue and jumped down next to Bilker.
Thwack!
As Krika landed, he struck an enemy's head with his axe. He fought bravely with just one arm, not hesitating while risking his life. The courage of the boy was clearly displayed to the surrounding warriors.
"Bilker!"
Krika glanced at Bilker after clearing out the enemies.
'What the hell happened to him?'
Bilker's eyes were unfocused. He was mumbling something and chattering his teeth. It seemed he had experienced a significant mental shock.
"T-they’re dying again, more people," Bilker said.
'People keep dying because of me. They keep dying.'
Looking around, he saw only death and more death. Everything surrounding Bilker seemed to lead to death.
"Y-you were right, Krika. My very existence is a sin."
Bilker crouched down, covering his head and screaming. Krika grabbed him by the nape of his neck and dragged him to safety.
The ones who emerged victorious and survived were Krika and the warriors. They managed to take Bilker from the hands of the men.
"That's one less worry. We rescued Bilker," the warriors said, smiling with bloodied faces. They celebrated their victory and left the blood-smeared tavern.
"Ugh, ughhh."
Bilker despaired as he looked at the dead bodies. The warriors laughed in front of him as if it were nothing.
"You'll get used to it, Bilker. In fact, why not make your first kill here? We could drag one of the villagers over..."
The warriors, excited by the sight of blood, were talking as if they were about to plunder the whole village.
Krika noticed that Bilker was in a bad state. After all, he was Bilker's guard who had spent more time with him than anyone else.
"I think we should get Bilker back to the encampment first before we do anything else," Krika said, supporting Bilker.
The warriors calmed themselves down and left the village.
"Bilker, stay focused," Krika said, gripping Bilker's shoulder firmly.
Bilker lifted his head from the pain.
"K-Krika, I... I..." He stammered.
"Tell me what happened first.”
Krika handed him a water pouch. Bilker drank and began to speak hesitantly.
"Everyone died because of me. Lagerik also died."
"Lagerik?"
"He was a Sun Warrior. He was good to me, but..."
Bilker recounted the things that happened to him one by one. Krika nodded in understanding.
‘A bunch of people found out that Bilker is a Solarist. Now, it’s only a matter of time before the word spreads.’
The descendant of Mijorn was a believer of Lou. If the warriors of Ulgaro found out, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
"Bilker, I'll help you escape. I swear by Ulgaro," Krika whispered.
Swearing by Ulgaro to save someone who was a follower of Lou was ironic, but Krika was sincere. Bilker had saved him once.
'If you owe a debt, you must repay it,’ Krika thought to himself.
Krika was an honest warrior. He didn't make excuses or take shortcuts.
The warriors felt relieved. Now that they had Bilker, they would receive a great reward once he was returned to the encampment safely. They walked through the snow, setting up camp at appropriate spots.
"Krika, it's your turn to stand watch.”
Krika opened his eyes. The watch was done in pairs. Even if injured, they had to take turns standing guard unless their lives were in danger from the injury.
"Yawn, I'm sleepy. Krika, things could be good for you now. You're Bilker's personal guard. If you get close to him and he becomes king, you could end up at the center of his power."
"He’s only going to be a puppet king, at best. Everyone knows that. What glory or riches would there be for a guard of that sort of king?"
Krika replied cynically. The warrior who had spoken to him chuckled.
"You have some insight, kiddo. Don't die, Krika. You're going places."
Krika didn't answer and looked back. The campsite was quiet. The warriors had fallen into a deep sleep after a tiring day.
"Did you see that over there?" Krika asked, pointing into the darkness.
The other warrior tilted his head and replied, "See what?"
"I’m injured. You go check it out."
"Now you’re bragging about being injured, huh? Fine."
The warrior grumbled as he walked forward.
'I need to stab him right through the throat.'
Krika drew his dagger. He stealthily approached the warrior from behind and swiftly moved the blade.
Schluck.
The warrior fell with his throat pierced. Krika stomped on his mouth to ensure a silent finish.
"Sorry it came to this. It's nothing personal," Krika muttered. He then shook Bilker awake.
Bilker opened his sticky eyes. He had been crying all throughout the night, so his eyes were swollen.
"Shh," Krika said, covering Bilker's mouth and waiting for him to come to his senses.
"If you're fully awake, nod."
Bilker's eyes opened wide. He frowned upon seeing the dead warrior.
‘Another died. This one is also my fault.'
Krika had committed murder in order to help Bilker escape. Bilker felt guilty as if it were his own sin.
Krika and Bilker quietly moved away from the campsite, retracing their steps.
'Bilker would be better off being with the northerners who believe in Lou. He wouldn't survive among the warriors of Ulgaro.'
Krika was planning to bring Bilker to the followers of Lou.
Bilker's legs hurt, but he didn't complain. Even Krika was walking without a word with his broken arm.
"People keep dying because of me," Bilker said.
"Obviously, it’s because of you. I’m glad you’re at least aware of that."
Krika didn’t deny it. If Bilker had been a bit more decisive and had warrior-like qualities, things wouldn't have escalated to this point.
Bilker looked gaunt. Not only was he under severe mental stress, but he also hadn’t been eating properly, so he was losing weight.
"Whether it's Lou or Ulgaro, I don't care anymore... All this is meaningless death. There was no need for Lagerik to die, either," Bilker said, sobbing.
Krika was silent for a while. Just a few days ago, he would have scolded Bilker for his words. But things were different now. Even Krika was fed up with the self-destructive behavior of the northern warriors.
"Yeah, fighting among ourselves has no point. You're right about that one thing.”
It was like wolves fighting among themselves over prey while a bear was waiting just beyond the bushes.
