Scarlet seeps from your shoulder, a seething pain curling through you if you dared to even move. This imbecile managed to pull a fast one on you, and now you were gravely injured.

You thought it’d be the end of you— when someone stepped in. Within seconds, the man who shot you was on his knees, a fearful look in his eyes.

“Now, repent.” The man who saved you snarled, his gaze piercing as he glared at the man on his knees. This was Cyno, a good friend of yours, and the General Mahamatra.