fugitive.
fugitive.
A man galloped across the crisp white snow.
Three In-Youngs are chasing after him.
The arrow left the demonstration and pierced the leg of the man running ahead. swollen body. The man who rolled one big lap quickly stood up and started running, but his running speed had already decreased significantly.
Slowing down, the fugitive was soon overtaken by the pursuer.
After brutally kicking the fugitive in the back, Algor Kingdom’s senior ranger, Ragil, finally recognized that the long pursuit of the past few days had come to an end.
This fugitive ran for three days through the snow-covered northern forest at a pace comparable to that of a ranger in the Northern Kingdom, with little sleep. It was a natural ranger feeling.
Ragil looked at the fallen fugitive and took out the longsword he was wearing around his waist. A bleak sword rang out.
Unfortunately, however, the man is a fugitive who stole the holy relics of the Seonghwagyo and ran away. The order from the upper level was to decapitate the man and retrieve the holy relic of the Seonghwagyo. Even if it is an unimportant holy object to the Seonghwagyo, the upper echelons of the kingdom always wanted to look good to the Seonghwagyo.
The warmth of a fire was the most important thing in the cold north.
squeak.
Red blood splattered on the pure white snow. The fugitive’s neck rolled to the floor in a clean blow that even the idiots would admire. Ragil lightly brushed off the blood on his sword and commanded with a chin gesture.
“Search.”
The rangers, clinging to the fugitive’s corpse, searched for the man’s arms with familiar hand movements. The things that came out of the man’s arms were simple.
A woman’s withered hand and a blue glass. and some money.
After taking the blue cup and money, Ragil turned his back without regret.
“Now that we’ve finished retrieving the relic, let’s go back.”
“yes.”
“yes.”
The rangers left behind the body of the fugitive, traversing the snowy field.
***
When the rangers leave and the day slowly starts to get dark.
A hand on the body of the decapitated fugitive began to wriggle.
One of the woman’s withered hands climbed up the fugitive’s body and touched his collar.
Then he grabbed the fugitive by the collar and started shaking it.
“Do not be angry, Mother of Corruption.”
The headless body slowly rose from the snow and removed its withered hands from its neck and put them in its chest pocket.
“Here it was necessary to die once.”
The headless body picked up the head it was talking about and brought it to the cutting edge. After a while, like a lie, a fugitive with a stranglehold no.
Marnak, the priest of corruption, smiled.
“If it’s divinity already contained in the relic, didn’t you retrieve it? So there’s no reason to walk around with a useless tail.”
