Chapter 89

My Villains Episode 089

23. Mother’s Warrior (3)

“...Oh, it hurts so bad.”

Is it cracked or broken? Every time a finger touched his nose, it stung as if he was being beaten.

“Is that the conclusion? Did you have such a dogfight on the street just because of that?”

“...a dog fight.”

Floating in the air, holding on to the hem of his cloak, the guy following him sarcastically seemed pathetic.

“If it’s not a dogfight, what is it? Even beggars won’t fight like that. Is pride really that important?”

“...Isn’t it because of pride? He said he wouldn’t listen to a weakling’s orders. What should I do? I’ll have to convince you with a dog fight.”

As they looked around, they grabbed Utequai by the ankle and dragged him along.

Utequai, another protagonist of the dogfight, passed out after being turned into rice cakes.

Adding the effects of the equipment, my strength reached 24, and I beat it for almost 5 minutes, so it’s good to be alive.

rattle.

I pulled my arm nervously as the back of Utequai’s head hit the cracked flagstone.

It sounded a bit dangerous, ‘Bakak’, but... Well, what’s the matter?

Ellen, who was looking down at Utequai, put on an expression of reluctance.

“So are you okay? What if he treats me and then goes on a rampage again?”

“Wouldn’t it be okay if I beat him again?”

“...I’m serious?”

well what should i do

The reason I was able to beat Utequai was because I hit first and also got lucky. If we fight again, will we be able to win?

“If you don’t want to do anything, just do it.”

“......just?” “No no. Let’s go for now.” When we arrived at the church, we waited about an hour before we could see the priest. It was the same priest who sold us the covenant.

“Have you come again? What about the patient?”

“I hang out with this guy.”

The priest, whose eyes darkened, kneaded the nape of his neck and examined the wounds on Utequai and me.

“Is this guy acting like a heretic?”

“Ah, from far west.”

“Hmm. Just in case, pagans have to pay not only offerings, but also ‘Jir’.”

“Jir? What is it?”

Ellen whispered the answer instead of the priest who didn’t know that.

“I just want to get more money from the heathen. Not all Middle World people believe in the Kwangmyeong Church.”

aha. If you don’t want to extort money, convert yourself. What are you talking about?

“It’s quite moderate. I thought I’d blow off the necks of all heretics.”

“It was like that until forty or fifty years ago. It was a time when anyone who offered five hundred pagan heads to the church was ordained a paladin.”

I was at a loss for words, and the priest asked as if it were annoying.

“so? Are you going to treat me?”

“Then how much jir will he have to pay?”

“I entered the Hall of Light, so I took a silver coin, I met the priest, so I took another silver coin. One silver coin to get out of the hall safely. Two silver coins for an offering for treatment. Five coins in total.”

“All five pieces?”

Ellen, as well as I, gaped.

“hey. Isn’t this expensive?”

“of course. In Ireland, it cost only a couple of pennies at the most...

The priest, who had been quietly watching our whispers, crumpled his face and calmed down.

“Our church is setting the jir according to the bishop’s guidelines. If you have any complaints, take them out.”

“Can I just leave and not pay

?”

“What does that mean? Of course, you have to pay three silver coins.”

...X arm.

The priest cured us by reciting prayers in a voice that sounded almost like a will.

“...come into the hands of your foolish servant and heal the wounds *fuck*.”

A white flash of light slowly flickered in the priest’s hand, and he wrapped his arms around me and Utequai.

Mmm. It seems to be squeezing out the divine power as much as possible, but it’s not cool. The effect is not as good as the last time.

However, there were so many injured in the church and the priest looked as if he would collapse at any moment, so he couldn’t complain.

I touched the nose bone that had been restored to its proper place, and suddenly opened my mouth.

“Oh, is it possible to obtain more covenants?”

“...Covenants are made only when there is an excess of divine power. How do you feel now?”

“...okay.”

By the time I paid for the treatment with a wry smile, Utequai came to his senses. His face was still a mess, but his limbs seemed to be intact.

“Turn it off.”

“Are you awake already?”

“...Darran tanka?”

Standing upright, Utequai wiped his blood-stained face with the palm of his hand and blinked his eyes.

“how is it. Do you think you’ll follow suit now?”

“...I got hit. It was a cowardly fight.”

“...Oh yeah? If you can’t concede, shall we try one more round?”

When I put my hand on Hrunting’s fur, Ute Kwai looked up at me in silence. Then, he slowly shook his head.

“no. cowardice is strength You didn’t use any evil power. I am defeated.”

“hmm.”

This guy seems to know that I didn’t use the Blood Sculpture.

“So what is the conclusion? Are you saying you will follow me?”

Utequai slowly stood up and twisted his back as if he was kicking himself.

Even that simple gesture was so threatening that the wounded soldiers and clergymen around them were startled and scattered.

It’s a huge thing that you can’t get used to no matter how many times you see it. How did you beat this guy down?

Utequai was well over two meters tall, but he had so much flesh and muscle, and his waist was so long and thick that at first glance his limbs seemed short. Thanks to that, rather than being human-

“No!”

Ellen’s small hand grips the hem of my dress as I move my hips.

“Ellen?”

“Wait a minute, please stay like this.”

“......uh?” Ellen muttered in a very low voice, as if pleading.

“Just... don’t say anything.”

“Yes, I understand.”

I quietly looked down at the top of Ellen’s head, then sighed and lifted her up.

“It’s okay.”

“Uh huh?”

As I rearranged myself, Ellen suddenly sat on my thigh.

“Isn’t this more comfortable?”

“I am that.”

The guy, who had been frozen in embarrassment, began to loosen up little by little as my soft hand patted his shoulder for a while.

The paused breath continues, and the collarbone tickles a little. The top of the head, leaning against the nape, exudes a pleasant smell.

The scent of lime mixed with the very familiar smell of flesh.

“Hey Ellen.”

Yes?” “How do you always make your hair smell good? Do you have any tips?”

“...there is no secret.”

“No? Why don’t you use perfume or soap?”

“When I was in the palace,”

Ellen, who was about to answer, jerked her head up.

“You’re not asking a woman for that.”

“what?”

“It’s not like asking a woman anything like that. It’s against etiquette.”

The guy with water droplets hanging from his long eyelashes kept his mouth shut. There was an angry light in his blue eyes for no reason.

I burst out laughing at that expression.

“Phahak!”

“...what is funny?”

“Isn’t that funny? *haha* What kind of manners are between us?” Ellen’s expression hardened slightly at my laughing question.

“What are you doing?”

“uh?”

Ellen asked again with a cold expression that even gave off chills.

“What are we doing?”

Contrary to his facial expression, the boy’s eyes were shaking slightly.

Unable to answer, I stared down at Ellen. Then, her gaze, which had gradually become blurred, soon began to wander aimlessly through the air.

My chest tickles.

While I was trying to guess the implications of his words, the time to joke had passed.

He patted Ellen’s shoulder slowly to break the awkward silence.

How long has it been? The boy in his arms eventually fell asleep soundly with a groaning sound of breathing.

It was a grateful breath.

The most famous of the strong warrior’s skills was, of course, ‘Berrage’.

A special technique that temporarily loses control of the character instead of boosting strength, speed and vitality.

It is a skill that is truly the flower of a berserker, becoming a hidden card when faced with a near-death crisis or a formidable enemy that cannot be matched.

“...But you say you can’t use it? Berserk?”

“It is not a madness. Being one with

the warrior mother .”

“No, anyway.”

After emptying three bowls of stew and finishing off his breakfast with beer, Ou Tequwai burped with a groan.

“Ugh. What are you doing you rude bastard!”

After leaving the shuddering Ellen behind for a while, she asked Utequai again.

“Being one with that mother. Why can’t a warrior like you do that?”

“Being one with mother is a precious and precious thing. I am Hatanka, a noble warrior. I still can’t.”

“so why?”

“Being one with Mother is Mother’s will. I’m the warrior’s mother-”

“My mother’s warrior.”

“Um, that’s right. My mother’s warrior. I follow my mother’s will.”

From the conversation that started early in the morning, I was able to understand some of the meanings of Utequai’s words.

First, ‘Hatanka’.

Since he introduced himself as ‘Hatanka Utequai’, he assumed that Hatanka was a family name. However, it turned out that it was not a surname, but a title meaning a certain status or position.

The old man he met at the mouth of the Salt River was the former Hatanka, and when he died, he passed on the title of Hatanka to Utequai.

and ‘Mother’.

As expected to some extent, ‘mother’ meant some kind of divine being.

In fact, even in the game, berserkers often talked about mother’s anger or mother’s mercy. When I recalled that nuance, mother seemed to mean nature itself.

“No, what does that have to do with you going berserk and running amok with that ‘mother’?”

“To become one with my mother is to ignite anger within a warrior. Fury Mother’s thing is precious.”

“Okay. So, since going berserk is a noble act, you have to get permission from your mother, right?”

“That’s right enough.”

“What must I do to get permission from my mother

?”

“I do not know.”

“I don’t know?”

“right. If you want a mother, you have a mother’s call. If you have a call, you and your mother become one.”

“...It sounds like a random trigger Mr. X.”

A berserker who can’t use berserk.

Hey, it’s not surprising anymore.