“Get some water,” he handed Nik a flask.

“Is there something stronger?”

“I won’t give it to you!”

Nik took a flask of water, took a sip, and rinsed out his mouth and spat the blood onto the ground.

“It’s enough for today, let’s go,” said Kors.

“What? The final is ahead!”

“You have been fighting for several hours, you started to miss strikes, you will miss your final now!” Kors started to wind up. “Don’t you understand?! That’s all! You need to be able to stop in time!”

“No!”

“Yes! You don’t need this final, it doesn't make any sense!”

“I need it!”

“That’s it, I said! You’re done!” Kors shouted it so loudly that the unclean ones standing nearby heart him. They turned their heads to look at them, and Kors froze. He shouted now at their commander, their White Lord. Nik lowered his head and wiped his mouth, which was still oozing blood. He didn’t look at Kors. And Kors started to shake, but he saw that the unclean ones didn’t interfere, and Nik was silent.

“Come on,” said Kors a little calmer and quieter.

“No.”

“Come on!” Kors shouted again. He began to get really angry, and the stubbornness of his stupid son pissed him off. Kors felt that he simply couldn’t stand it if Nik was hit again, and he was hurt, this is understandable to anyone who knew at least a little about battles – Nik was tired. And Kors could no longer bear this sight, his heart would simply break.

Kors grabbed Nik by the forearm and pulled:

“You have finished, I have told you! Stop fooling!” He raised his eyes to the unclean:

“That’s all! Your White Lord has finished for today! He’s not involved anymore! I am his father and I am taking him away!” He pulled Nik behind him, and the unclean ones parted, not holding them back and seeing them off. Nik silently followed Kors and didn’t even try to remove his hand, and Kors firmly squeezed his forearm, painted with naked whores and monsters, with an iron grip, as if he was afraid that Nik would break free. In this manner, without letting him go for a second, Kors dragged him into the room, and, unable to resist, hit him several times: in the head, in the face and in the ribs. Nik made a dull sound like a soft, short growl. Kors threw him away from him. Nik fell – only the steel shields clinked, which were protecting his legs below the knees. Kors turned away, and, going up to the table, began to violently stir the medicine in a cup of water. He handed it to him son:

“Get up, take the medicine. Rinse your mouth thoroughly. Hold it in your mouth for a while before spitting. And wash yourself; you’re dirty, covered in dust.”

Nik stood up silently, took the mug, and without looking at Kors, went into the bathroom. Kors exhaled heavily. He continued to shake from the fact that Nik had been beaten and what Kors had done in front of everyone. But he was sure he was right.

Kors entered the bathroom and saw that Nik had removed his protection and was standing slightly bent over the bathtub, holding the medicine in his mouth. Kors approached Nik from behind and roughly undid the buckle on his belt, pulling his pants down, and bent him over the bathroom, jerking him sharply. From a strong jolt, Nik only bent more, resting his hands on the opposite edge of the tub, and healing water poured out of his mouth, mixed with blood. Kors wheezed, panting with orgasm, and fell off:

“Clean up and go back to the room,” he ordered.

When Nik returned to their room, Kors was sitting at the table and smoking. He looked at Nik, so sad and silent now:

“Was I wrong now?” Asked Kors and put out his cigarette. “Have I done the wrong thing to take you away?”