Yellowy approached very cautiously. Weed gently stroked his neck a few times and then wrapped his neck and torso with the rope like a flash of lightning.
MOOOOOO!
The sorrowfully bellowing Yellowy!
“Master, why are you doing this? What have I done wrong…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat you. There are luggages, so shouldn’t you move it?”
Yellowy’s fate had already been determined ever since the trebuchets were made.
Bingryong and the Phoenixes had very little pity in their gazes.
‘Lucky it’s not me.’ ‘It’s fine as long as it’s not me.’
After finishing a hearty meal Weed had cooked from their prey, they marched to the Embinyu Church’s fortress.