LS Chapter 6 (Part 2)

Bart’s thrusts grew terrifyingly fast, rubbing against the folds of Yujin’s inner walls so thoroughly that it felt as though they had been smoothed flat. Wet, squelching noises echoed like a drawn-out cry as Bart’s fully erect penis plunged in and out of the tight opening with relentless intensity. His shaft, larger and more swollen than usual, was eagerly swallowed and gripped by Yujin’s body, which seemed to suck him in hungrily.

Bart’s heated gaze bore down on the quivering, twitching opening that clung to him so tightly. The deeper he thrust, the more Yujin’s body clamped down, as if trying to hold onto the penis buried within. It only fueled Bart’s insatiable thirst, making him crave more. No matter how much he took, it wasn’t enough. Like a madman, he thrust harder, spilling himself deep inside until the space felt entirely filled, yet he was still unsatisfied.

The aggressive movements, as if trying to tear him apart, made Yujin twist his hips and sob in desperation. The cloth covering Yujin’s eyes grew darker as it absorbed his tears, and the sight only made Bart’s lower abdomen ache with desire. By now, just seeing Yujin cry was enough to make Bart’s penis throb and stand fully erect again.

“Damn it.”

Thrust, thrust!

As Bart neared his climax, he pulled his penis out as far as possible before driving it back in deeply, repeating the motion over and over.

“Ah, ahh! Hngh!”

A sharp, cry-like moan escaped Yujin’s lips, and his lower opening grew wet again. The slick, tender entrance clenched tightly around Bart’s throbbing penis. Smiling in ecstasy at the sensation, Bart released his semen deep inside Yujin’s body.

* * *

Neigh! The black horse tossed its head and whinnied. Unlike usual, the bustling crowd and the excited atmosphere of the village seemed to agitate even the horse, which stomped its feet and snorted loudly. Yujin gently stroked the horse’s side, patiently waiting for it to calm down. The soothing touch seemed to work, as Bart’s horse gradually settled and allowed Yujin’s hand to move over its sleek coat.

Moving slowly so as not to startle the horse, Yujin headed toward its tail. He began braiding the long strands of brightly colored cloth into the horse’s tail as if weaving hair. Among the vivid colors, he noticed that the middle of one red strip was damp. Yujin’s cheeks flushed as he glanced around nervously.

He was certain someone had entered Bart’s hut earlier, but he couldn’t figure out who it was. By the time everything had concluded and the cloth had been removed, no one was there. Yujin had asked Bart if he knew who it was, but he never got an answer.

“Did they see everything?”

Embarrassed, Yujin rubbed his flushed cheeks with the back of his hand. Just then, a sharp voice cut through the air, reaching his ears.

“What exactly are you doing here right now?”

“What are you doing here?” Tati asked, her voice dripping with irritation.

Yujin turned his head to look at her. “I was tying the cloth to the horse’s tail.”

“Isn’t this Bart’s horse?”

“It is.”

“Then why are you the one tying the cloth?”

“Bart gave me permission.”

Tati’s pretty face twisted, her lips curling into an ugly sneer.

“Don’t make me laugh. Where do you come up with such lies? Hand it over!”

“No, I’m serious. He really told me I could do it.”

“Do you even know what this means? There’s no way he’d let you. Now give it to me!”

Tati marched over and snatched the horse’s tail out of Yujin’s hands. The action was so sudden that Yujin was pushed back before he could stop her. He reached out belatedly to try and take it back.

“Tati, stop it. Bart really did tell me to do it. And don’t hold it so tightly; you’ll scare the horse.”

“Move! How dare you touch it?!”

“Tati, stop. If you pull it like that…”

The large horse stomped its feet and snorted loudly, clearly agitated by the commotion. Yujin noticed the muscles in its hind legs twitching, a clear warning sign. Fearing someone might get kicked, he stepped back. Tati, however, held the horse’s tail aloft with a triumphant expression, glaring at Yujin as if she had won.

Realizing that continuing to argue would only further agitate the horse that Bart was supposed to ride, Yujin sighed softly and stepped back.

“Why are you holding that?”

Bart’s voice came from a distance as he approached. He was dressed in ceremonial riding attire, which was markedly different from battle gear. The thin silk garments were white, adorned with a red sash, and decorated with yellow and green cloths hanging from his belt.

Bart looked like a magnificent bird of prey soaring through the sky, both fierce and beautiful. It wasn’t just Yujin who thought so—Tati, too, stared at Bart in a daze before quickly regaining her composure and answering.

“Of course, I was tying the cloth to the tail before the race. It’s almost done. I was even saying a prayer for victory…”

“That’s not your job.”

Bart’s cold voice cut her off. Tati hesitated for a moment at his reaction, then forced a smile and tried to explain herself.

“I just wanted to do it for you.”

“I told Yujin to do it. You can leave now.”

“…”

Bart, now standing directly in front of her, looked down at her with an indifferent expression. His tone was sharp and final.

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

Reluctantly, Tati released the horse’s tail, her lingering resentment clear as she glared daggers at Yujin. She stomped away, her footsteps loud and angry, before disappearing into the distance. Only then did Yujin look up at Bart. The icy glare that had seemed sharp enough to slice the air moments ago was gone, replaced by Bart’s usual calm gaze as he looked down at Yujin.

“Finish it.”

“Okay.”

Yujin resumed braiding the cloth into the horse’s tail. Meanwhile, Bart inspected the horse’s condition, his expression serious as he checked its back, legs, and muscles. For the Mounted Tribe, horses were more important than weapons. They rode, shot arrows, and wielded swords from atop their steeds.

“I’ll do my best.”

Bart, who had been examining the horse’s neck, turned his head slightly to look at Yujin.

“With what?”

“With everything.”

Bart was not only the most skilled warrior among the Mounted Tribe but also the most admired. It wasn’t just women who longed to stay by his side—everyone sought his approval. Yujin was no exception.

Realizing what Yujin meant, Bart let out a soft chuckle. He approached Yujin, who had just finished tying the cloth and was now fiddling with the tail, and tilted Yujin’s chin upward.

“With everything?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I said I wanted to pin you down and take you right here, in front of everyone?”

“…If that’s what you really want, then you can.”

Though it was only hypothetical, Yujin couldn’t help but imagine the scene. His ears burned, and his hands and feet fidgeted nervously. While he hoped such a situation wouldn’t happen, he felt he could endure it if Bart truly desired it.

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you ask. I want to be someone you need, someone who can stay by your side forever.”

Bart slowly stroked Yujin’s jaw before pressing his hands against Yujin’s flushed cheeks, forcing his lips open. Staring intently into Yujin’s mouth, where his red tongue moved nervously, Bart licked his lips.

“Sometimes, your mouth reminds me of your other opening. Did you know that?”

“Hngh…”

“Wet, red, tight… I wonder if it would tear if I put everything in.”

“You can… if you want to.”

With his cheeks squeezed, Yujin’s words came out muffled, but Bart understood him. Bart laughed deeply, a sound filled with satisfaction, before inserting three fingers into Yujin’s open mouth, scraping along the roof.

“Hnn, mmph…”

“There are plenty of people I could keep close if I needed to. But you’re here because I want you to be.”

Despite his gentle words, Bart’s fingers moved roughly inside Yujin’s mouth. He poked under his tongue, scratched the inner walls of his cheeks, and dragged his nails across the ridged roof of Yujin’s mouth, observing his reactions. As saliva pooled and Yujin’s mouth grew wetter, Bart’s calm gaze darkened and glimmered with something deeper.

“Be at my hut as soon as the race is over.”

“Hngh… haa…”

After all the games end, the kitchen becomes a whirlwind of activity. Even so, Yujin nodded, agreeing to Bart’s words. He figured he’d likely spend the entire night with Bart, and the thought made his hips twitch with excitement.

Just as saliva began to drip from the corner of Yujin’s lips, Bart pulled his hand away. Yujin swallowed, trying to steady his breathing, as Bart lightly tapped his flushed cheek before effortlessly mounting his horse. Bart then guided the horse toward the gathering crowd, while Yujin used the back of his hand to calm his reddened cheeks and followed on foot.

The sight of all the warriors gathered on their horses was magnificent. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, captivated by the brightly decorated horses and the warriors in their ceremonial attire. Yujin craned his neck, searching for Bart among the throng. Even in matching uniforms, Bart stood out as unmistakably unique.

As Yujin smiled at the sight of Bart, the leader swung a large flag high into the air, signaling the start of the race.

The rules were simple: warriors had to retrieve a flag marked with the leader’s insignia from the designated spot and return to the village with it.

“Hyah!”

At the signal, all the warriors kicked their horses into motion, bursting forward like arrows. Dust clouds filled the air as the ground trembled beneath the hooves, and the crowd’s cheers grew deafening.

As the warriors quickly disappeared into the distance, the villagers excitedly placed bets on who would win. While the men gambled, the women prepared themselves. Once the race ended, the feast would begin, followed by a night of drinking and revelry.

The warriors’ wives prayed to stand out from the others, hoping to be chosen by their husbands. Meanwhile, the unmarried women hoped to catch the attention of the warriors they admired.

Standing among them, Yujin rubbed his still-flushed cheeks and glanced toward the path Bart had ridden.

Slipping away from the bustling crowd, Yujin wandered toward the kitchen area. From afar, he spotted his aunt speaking with the village healer. Once the healer had finished and left, Yujin approached her.

“What is it?”

“Um, Aunt, I was wondering if I could take the evening off today.”

“…”

Her calm gaze rested on Yujin’s face, prompting him to quickly add, “I’ll handle the next round of gutting duty instead.”

Asking for time off on one of the busiest days meant volunteering for the most unpleasant and avoided task in the kitchen. But Yujin was determined to take the night off—Bart had told him to wait in his hut. And even if not for that reason, Yujin simply wanted to be by Bart’s side on a day like today, when everyone was celebrating.

After glancing at the groups of warriors’ wives gathered nearby, Yujin’s aunt sighed softly.

“Take the day off until tomorrow.”

“What? Just today is fine. I can come back to work tomorrow…”

“Go.”

Yujin was secretly thrilled. He hadn’t voiced his desire to take the evening off because he didn’t want to seem presumptuous, but his aunt had made the decision for him. Understanding the underlying meaning behind her words, Yujin felt a bit embarrassed. As she turned and walked away, Yujin bowed deeply to her retreating figure.

He went to Bart’s hut to tidy the bedding and arrange the charcoal before stepping back outside to join the crowd waiting for the warriors to return. At last, Yujin could fully enjoy this moment alongside the others, waiting for the warriors to complete their race.

His feet tingled, and he couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his face. He was happy—this moment filled him with joy.

As time passed, dust clouds began to appear in the distance. Yujin joined the others in cheering and stomping his feet.

Bart emerged as the undisputed victor of the race. The younger warriors, who hadn’t participated, were the first to shout in celebration as Bart crossed the finish line. The spectators, mesmerized by his swift and powerful performance, couldn’t take their eyes off him.

Yujin, too, couldn’t hide his excitement. He smiled brightly, watching Bart amidst the fluttering red, green, blue, yellow, and white cloths trailing in the wind. The cheers of the crowd were loud enough to shake the entire Mounted Tribe, but to Yujin, there was only one shining figure—Bart, standing tall against the sky like the sun itself.

For a brief moment, Yujin wished time would stop. He was happy, and he felt grateful to be alive.

“I really like him.”

Yujin truly liked Bart. He adored him.

With flushed cheeks, Yujin’s gaze met Bart’s from across the distance. Like the wives running to greet their warriors, Yujin wanted to rush to Bart, but he held himself back. It didn’t matter. Bart was smiling at him, and that was enough.

Turning away from Bart, who was now speaking with the leader, Yujin headed toward his hut. Each step felt as if he were walking on clouds, his heart light with anticipation and excitement.

Bart returned to his hut without even stopping for dinner. Carrying the scent of earth and wind, his eyes gleamed with an intense light as he entered.

“Bart, congratulations on winning the ra—”

Before Yujin could finish, Bart closed the distance between them in just two strides and kissed him urgently. Yujin opened his mouth, accepting Bart’s tongue without hesitation.

That night, Yujin lay beneath Bart, crying softly throughout as Bart claimed him over and over, until his body released itself uncontrollably through the stimulation.

* * *

Namta muttered a curse under his breath, rubbing his aching shoulder. Today was the day for practicing wielding a sword while standing on horseback. Namta was less skilled in horsemanship compared to others. It wasn’t that he lacked talent, but he learned slower than most. However, as the son of the leader of the Mounted Tribe, his father never hesitated to express his disappointment over Namta’s lack of proficiency in riding. Today, though, his father had decided to personally teach him.

The task required Namta to use his legs to stabilize himself and lift his hips off the horse’s back. He had to rely solely on his thigh strength to support his entire body on the galloping horse while swinging a long sword. But it was far easier said than done. Honestly, if maintaining balance while standing on a running horse were simple, would he be struggling like this?

Through consistent practice, Namta had managed to stand on a running horse, albeit clumsily. Swinging the long sword wasn’t an issue either. But…

“Straighten your back! What are you doing?”

At the leader’s shout, Namta tightened his thighs against the horse. However, standing upright on a galloping horse and swinging a sword accurately at a target was far too difficult.

“You need to move your whole body in sync! Aim and strike!”

“Ugh, yes, sir.”

Namta’s shoulders flinched under the weight of his father’s commanding presence as the leader rode alongside him, barking orders. Namta raised the sword high and swung, but the speed of the galloping horse and the weight of the blade made it impossible for him to hit the target—a wooden post—properly. He wavered, struggling to maintain balance.

“Ugh!”

For a moment, it seemed like Namta would fall off the horse. He hastily threw the sword away and sat back down, clutching the horse’s neck tightly. His father, watching him with a disdainful expression, furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Again!”

Namta, with his arms trembling from fatigue, picked up the sword once more and urged the horse forward.

Raising his hips, he stood on the horse’s back. Lifting the sword high, he swung it toward the wooden post.

Thud!

The sword struck the wooden post, but Namta wobbled precariously before tumbling to the ground in an ungraceful fall.

“Ugh…”

Fortunately, he curled his body instinctively before hitting the ground; otherwise, he might have broken his neck. Expecting some words of consolation from his father, Namta rubbed his sore shoulder and looked up. Instead, the leader, who had steered his horse toward him, stared down at him with disdain.

“I should have forced Pashi to become my wife, no matter what… Tsk.”

Namta’s eyes twitched at the mention of her name. The leader had once tried to take Bart’s mother, Pashi, as a secondary wife. However, Pashi had rejected him, stating she would only accept becoming the first wife. At the time, the leader had already formed an alliance with the Garin Tribe by agreeing to take Namta’s mother as his first wife, so he couldn’t meet Pashi’s demand.

Not long after, Pashi had gone north to battle and was reported missing. About a year later, she returned, carrying an infant Bart in her arms. The village had been abuzz for a time, but no one knew who Bart’s father was. Pashi passed away from an epidemic when Bart was around ten years old.

When the leader drank too much, he often repeated the same lament:

[If Pashi had become my wife, Bart would have been my son. Damn it. I should have taken her back then, no matter what. I should have made her bear my child, even by force.]

Bart seemed to have been born to be a warrior, excelling in every possible way—swordsmanship, horsemanship, strategy, and combat. Not only was he proficient in everything, but he also possessed a cold and ruthless personality. The leader often wished Bart, not Namta, were his son.

Namta envied Bart. No, he envied everything Bart had. And it infuriated him. The anger consumed him to the point of madness.

Dragging his sore shoulder and exhausted body, Namta entered the sword training grounds. From afar, he noticed Yujin, carrying a tray and hurrying about. Dressed in clothes too large for his frame, Yujin walked briskly, and Namta stared intently at him.

“Yujin, that was his name, right?”

He had first seen Yujin long ago during a trip to the Riazai Tribe. At the time, he had only thought Yujin was oddly pretty for a man. But a few months ago, when Namta had visited Bart’s hut and accidentally witnessed an unexpected scene, something within him shifted. Ever since, seeing Yujin filled him with strange emotions.

He had even gone out of his way to sleep with a woman he didn’t particularly like, hoping to forget the memory. But Yujin’s moans and the sight of his flushed, trembling hips would resurface in Namta’s mind at the most random moments, leaving him disoriented.

“Perverted act…”

Namta murmured, recalling the term often used for such behavior. He had never had any interest in men before, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Yujin. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of sleeping with another man, but if it were Yujin, it didn’t seem so bad. It could even be a way to make a statement.

Even though Bart had already laid his hands on Yujin, Namta knew that Bart could never truly have him. Only the leader could possess a man incapable of bearing children. If not the leader, the only other way would be for Yujin to be given to a warrior as spoils of war, a privilege granted by the leader himself.

As Namta’s thoughts reached that conclusion, a glint of determination flickered in his eyes. Soon, he would become the leader of the Mounted Tribe, and with that title, he could fully claim Yujin as his own. It was a privilege reserved solely for the leader, and Namta fully intended to enjoy it. He imagined Bart’s expression in that moment—it would surely be priceless.

A breeze swept through, lifting Yujin’s hair into the air. As Yujin blinked and brushed the strands out of his eyes, Namta smiled faintly while watching him. That smile did not go unnoticed—it was caught by Bart, who had just entered the training grounds.

“Namta wins!”

The training officer’s shout rang out loudly. Puffing out his chest with pride, Namta stood tall, his shoulders broad with satisfaction.

“Next volunteer?”

While waiting for the next and final training opponent, Namta spotted Yujin standing at a distance, watching the training grounds. His large, sparkling eyes and soft hair swayed gently in the breeze. The image triggered memories of what Namta had seen in Bart’s hut, making his groin ache. He couldn’t help but wonder—what could possibly feel so good that even Bart, who had never shown interest in men, would do such things with Yujin?

“Namta, have you gotten a taste for spying now?”

“What?”

Namta hadn’t even noticed someone approaching, but suddenly Bart was standing behind him, spitting out his words as if chewing on them. Startled by Bart’s sudden presence, Namta fumbled to regain his stance. Before he could fully collect himself, the shout of “Start!” echoed through the training grounds.

With a resounding whoosh, Bart’s sword cut through the air with an intensity that could almost be felt.

Clang!

“Ugh!”

The sharp clash of blades echoed in Namta’s ears, the sound reverberating through him. He barely managed to raise his sword to block Bart’s strike. If he had been a moment slower, his arm might have been severed by Bart’s blade.

Bart wielded his long sword with the ease of a light dagger, swinging it forcefully. Namta, overwhelmed, couldn’t think about attacking; defending was all he could manage. Every time he blocked Bart’s strikes, pain shot through his wrist. Bart’s icy gaze, filled with an intent to cut, made Namta instinctively step back.

Clang! The sound of metal rang out as Bart’s relentless blows battered Namta’s blade until it finally snapped.

“Yujin is mine,” Bart said coldly.

“Ugh! Damn it…” Namta cursed, his shoulders trembling from the sheer force of blocking Bart’s strikes. His wrist shook, throbbing with pain, and it felt like his grip on the sword might fail at any moment. Still, he clung desperately to the broken weapon.

Bart swung again without hesitation. The impact sent Namta flying backward, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. While Namta gasped for air, Bart calmly gripped his sword and advanced toward him with a deadly calm.

Namta’s breath caught in his throat. The moment he met Bart’s dark, gleaming eyes, a chilling realization struck him—he might actually die.

Clang!

The blades collided again, the impact louder and fiercer than before.

This isn’t training. That bastard’s insane.

Bart wasn’t just sparring; he was trying to kill him. Fear spread through Namta like wildfire as he frantically glanced around, retreating step by step. He hoped someone would intervene, but no one stepped forward.

All he had to do was surrender—it would end the training. But Namta couldn’t bring himself to say the words. His pride wouldn’t allow it. However, fear soon overcame his pride. His face turned pale as his trembling lips finally began to move.

“I-I surren…”

Just as he was about to shout his surrender, Bart closed the distance in an instant, grabbing Namta by the collar.

“W-what are you doing?” Namta stammered.

“Namta, don’t you ever look at Yujin with those disgusting eyes again,” Bart growled.

“Damn it, l-let go of me!”

“I’m telling you not to look at what’s mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Yujin’s not some woman; he’s just a man!”

Bart clicked his tongue, exhaling sharply.

“Do you think Father will give Yujin to you? That will never happen. And even if it did, I’d stop it. You’ll never have Yujin—argh!”

Bart pulled the dagger from his belt and plunged it into Namta’s thigh.

He’s insane! Namta frantically looked around. This had gone far beyond training—why wasn’t anyone stepping in to stop it?

Just as Namta was about to yell for the training officer, Bart twisted the blade in his thigh, and a scream tore from Namta’s throat.

“Aaargh! Ahhh!”

Bart slowly rotated the dagger, his voice calm and low as he whispered into Namta’s ear.

“Did you hear me? Answer me if you did. Or I’ll make sure you can’t walk again.”

“You bastard… Do you think you’ll get away with this?” Namta spat through gritted teeth.

“Namta. If you weren’t the leader’s son, this blade would be in your neck, not your thigh. This is your last warning. Think carefully and answer. From now on, don’t even look at Yujin, and don’t go near him.”

As the blade twisted further into his thigh, Namta frantically nodded.

“Fine, I get it.”

“What exactly do you get?”

“I won’t go near Yujin. I won’t even look at him.”

Bart stared at Namta’s terror-stricken face for a moment before roughly shoving him back. Namta fell to the ground with a loud thud. Bart calmly walked out of the training grounds, leaving Namta clutching his bleeding leg.

As Bart’s retreating figure disappeared, Namta glared at him with hatred.

“Damn it… You think you can get away with this…”

Namta was certain his father would take action against Bart for injuring him. But instead, his father simply clicked his tongue a few times, sighed, and did nothing. Bart wasn’t punished at all.

Hot tears, a mix of anger, humiliation, and resentment, streamed down Namta’s face. The fury of knowing that Bart had taken everything that should have been his clawed at Namta’s mind relentlessly.

The leader’s affection, which should have been his, went to Bart. The respect of the warriors, which he deserved, was directed toward Bart. Even the women of the tribe, who should have admired the leader’s son, followed Bart instead.

Everything that should have been his had been taken by Bart.

“Arghhh!”

Namta, unable to contain his rage, began throwing objects around his hut, screaming in frustration.

“I won’t let him get away with this.”

If Bart disappeared, everything would return to its rightful place. Yujin, too.

* * *

“See? I told you to be careful. Tsk.”

“How was I supposed to know Namta would jump out of nowhere?”

“This is insane.”

“Do you think he saw?”

Tu ruffled his hair in frustration, biting his lips nervously. Miron stood beside him, gazing helplessly at the vast blue sky, letting out a long sigh. Neither of them spared a glance at the corpse lying on the ground, an arrow embedded in its chest. No, they both wished they could turn back time and erase what had happened.

“What’s this?”

Bart, passing through the training grounds with soft fox fur in hand, glanced at the corpse and asked. Miron and Tu grimaced, scratching their heads awkwardly.

Some time later, they all stood before the leader, waiting for his judgment. But the leader simply stared at the dead warrior’s body in silence. Standing beside him, Namta shifted his eyes nervously and began babbling excuses.

“Father, it’s true! I accepted him because he sold me the bow you said you wanted so badly. And it was a good deal! You’re going hunting for the Birth Celebration soon, right? I thought you’d be pleased to have it then… That’s all. I had no other intentions.”

“How does the Rainwood Tribe have such a bow?”

“It’s probably a trophy. But they said it was difficult to sell otherwise, so I had no choice.”

Bart silently clicked his tongue at Namta’s nonsense. Namta claimed he had accepted a Rainwood Tribe warrior into the Mounted Tribe as part of a trade for the bow, something Bart found absurd. Even if the warrior was accepted as a regular warrior and not a direct subordinate, it was unacceptable.

Bringing in a warrior from another tribe without even holding a selection trial and without the leader’s explicit approval? Ridiculous. But Bart knew it wasn’t easy to counter Namta’s claims in front of the leader.

The leader likely shared Bart’s skepticism. However, the bow Namta mentioned was something the leader had been searching for over the past several years. That seemed to temper his immediate anger toward Namta.

The real issue, though, was that the Rainwood Tribe warrior brought in exchange for the bow had been killed by Tu. If that warrior hadn’t died, they might have secured the bow, a fact that seemed to weigh more heavily on the leader than Namta’s dubious story.

“And it was an accident?”

The leader finally shifted his gaze from the corpse to Tu. Scratching his neck anxiously, Tu opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but Bart stepped forward before he could.

“I’ll go retrieve the bow.”

“You?”

“Yes. Namta, are you certain the bow you saw is the one the leader has been searching for?”

Namta, as if expecting Bart’s interference, straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin confidently.

“I’m certain.”

Weapons crafted in the north were unique. If not for their distinctiveness, their quality was far superior to that of other weapons. The issue, however, was their scarcity. No one knew which northern tribe crafted them, and the only identifying feature was a peculiar engraving resembling a bird’s wings.

Because their origins were unclear, additional production was impossible, leaving their numbers limited. Their exceptional quality compared to other weapons made them highly valuable and rare. The bow Namta mentioned was one of those northern-crafted weapons.

“You confirmed the engraving on the bow, right?” Bart asked.

“Of course I did. What do you think, that I didn’t check something that basic?” Namta snapped back irritably as he scratched the long scar on his thigh with his fingernail.

Bart found it hard to believe that Namta, of all people, had found something the leader had searched for over years, even combing through countless tribes during numerous battles. It was likely a lie, but Namta’s confidence suggested he had some kind of scheme in mind. It might even be a trap, but it wasn’t one Bart could afford to avoid.

The leader’s Birth Celebration was approaching, and Bart didn’t want to risk upsetting him before then. Breaking his gaze from Namta, Bart turned to the leader and said calmly, “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“So, the bow has been found,” the leader mused, his tone revealing anticipation rather than affirmation. It was clear he expected Bart to retrieve it, no matter the cost.

Bart bowed respectfully and left the hut, with Miron and Tu following closely behind. Once they were a safe distance from the leader’s hut, Tu scratched his neck and began mumbling excuses in a defeated tone.

“I’m telling you, that bastard started it. I really tried to ignore him. I should’ve known when he came at me like a lunatic looking for a fight. You saw it too, Miron—back me up here.”

“Tu’s right, Bart. We didn’t even know that guy was from the Rainwood Tribe. We thought he was just another regular warrior candidate.”

“Exactly! Damn it, if he hadn’t brought up Tati… And why the hell did Namta have to show up at that exact moment? He never comes to the training grounds otherwise.”

Bart stopped walking at Tu’s last remark.

“Namta wasn’t there from the start? He came in the middle?” Bart asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. It was like he showed up at just the right time… Damn it.”

Realizing something was amiss, Tu clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath, furrowing his brow.

Bart, too, found it suspicious, but accusing Namta of setting a trap was tricky. As unlikely as it seemed, Namta’s claim about the bow could be true. If it wasn’t a trap, then what was the point of all this effort?

“Tu, about the warrior you killed—you said he deliberately picked a fight with you?”

“Yeah. It really felt like he was charging in to fight.”

“His skills?”

“Nothing special.”

Bart glanced at Tu, who had been scratching his neck as he spoke, then silently stared at him for a moment before turning to Miron with a command.

“Prepare three groups, twenty warriors each. Choose the best ones.”

As Bart thought about the location of the Rainwood Tribe, he added, glancing briefly toward the kitchen.

“Also, gather five commoners and prepare a cart. Make sure the horses pulling it are the calmest ones we have.”

“Commoners too? We’re just going to retrieve a bow—why bring them?”

“If the bow isn’t there, we’ll need to bring something else.”

“Ah… got it. I’ll prepare everything.”

Understanding Bart’s intent, Miron left to carry out his orders. Bart shifted his gaze from the kitchen to the leader’s hut he had left moments earlier. Whether it was a trap or not, he’d know once he got there.

Meanwhile, Yujin walked among the group, looking around as they traveled. He had suddenly been told to accompany Bart to the Rainwood Tribe. He had heard they were retrieving something for the leader, but the sheer number of warriors accompanying them made him question the nature of the mission.

It didn’t feel like they were just picking up a single item.

The cart made it clear they were expecting to bring back more than just one object. But the Rainwood Tribe was known as a battle tribe, and Yujin couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the situation.

The Rainwood Tribe, located relatively close to the Red Tribe, wasn’t as large as the Mounted Tribe or the Azure Sky Tribe. However, it was a battle-oriented tribe, sustained primarily by its warriors and combat prowess.

“Are we going to fight?”