The town streets were particularly busy in the morning. Prisoners of all ages, be it young or old all rushed to get to their posts.
Tartarus was not your ordinary prison as it used the prisoners to the benefit of the Empire controlling the prison. And it was the same empire who's king had begged Grant and his classmates to save the world.
The Wynn empire.
In the short span of time that Grant had stayed in the surface before being tossed down the hellhole that is Tartarus, he had read a little and learned from the natives how formidable the Empire was.
It was dubbed as "Humanity's Cradle". That title alone and the fact that it spanned for thousands of miles and was divided into multiple subsidiary kingdoms while being situated in the central continent was all that Grant knows about it so far.
As for its financial wealth? The Wynn empire was extremely well off. It has taxes and tributes collected from those who seek protection under its banner.
'Those idiots are probably enjoying life up there...' Grant was a little bit displeased at the thought of those classmates living the life while he was risking his life here in Tartarus just to survive. His eyes glanced over to the little child who was dressed in the same black hooded cloak as him.
It was Tir. Unbeknownst to the happy child who was skipping about and looking at everything is that there existed a certain small god sitting atop his head. Eating bread while humming a tune. Grant felt a bit tense seeing the child go through every food stall with Grant's collar card, buying and testing out snacks while at least one piece of his food would disappear, only to be eaten by the god sitting atop his head.
"Papa try some!" Tir came running back to Grant who smiled at Tir. All his features were covered up and became nonvisible except for the lower part of his face. Tir stopped before Grant to offer him some freshly baked chicken floss bread. It was Tir's favorite bread.
Grant nodded and conceded. He picked up Tir who pushed forth the bread towards Grant's face. Accidentally hitting the tall man's cheek and staining it with sweet sauce instead.
"Pfft..." Numen held in a laugh after seeing Grant's floppy performance of being caught unaware by Tir. It was new to Numen to see the man who can catch arrows easily fail to properly take a bite out of the bread a child extended to them.
"Papa you need to open your mouth to eat! Now you're dirty!" Tir giggled.
"You didn't tell papa that you would immediately try to shove the bread in my mouth." Grant spoke softly while pinching the demihuman's fluffy cheeks.
"Stop that!" Tir shook himself free from his father's pinching and shoved the bread towards Grant's mouth. This time, the man had managed to catch it with his teeth and wrest it away from the child.
Tir smiled in contentment and he hugged Grant's chest, quickly falling asleep as his breathing became more relaxed. Numen hopped off Tir's head and vanished to a nearby shop. Only to come back with a towel in hand.
Numen threw the towel at Grant who caught it and wiped off the stain on his cheek while cleaning Tir's lips. Grant threw the towel high up in the air and Numen looked at it. Mumbled something under his breath until the towel had disintegrated into dust.
"What do you reckon would the managers make you do today? It's an A to B mandatory dispatch and you know that you are still far from that level..." Numen asked Grant after he sat on the man's shoulder. A slightly worried but also curious frown present on his face.
Tartarus, home to hundreds if not, millions of prisoners would naturally be a prime recipe for riot and chaos. But despite there being an awful lot of dangerous prisoners mixed in with the slightly worse or honest ones, there hasn't been a major riot in the past seventy years.
That was all thanks to the prisoner collars and the people who keep the prison in check. There were five main roles that these chosen few fell under. The watchers, Enforcers, Managers and the Warden himself.
The watchers were those who survey the whole interior of the prison, be it either the first or even the hundredth floor. With the use of special magical devices and observation type spells. If their eyes pick up something too unusual then they would take note and tell the other officers of their findings.
They are creepy snitches in short. That was also what the prisoners loved to call them. Dirty snitches.
While the Enforcers were those who have decent strength to guard over areas of the prison. They were akin to security guards who guarded the peace of their assigned areas and made sure nothing would go wrong. These enforcers are also the first ones to come knocking on the doors of anyone who caused a big enough of a ruckus. Being arrested by them was never a pleasant experience.
The managers dealt with the daily work assignments for the prisoners. They decided whether or not to use your strength to send you out on dispatch missions or put your other skills such as crafting to use. These types of officers are also one of the most hated by everyone in general as they can get away with increasing a prisoner's workload and make profits off the excess materials or produce they collect.
While the warden... No one really knew what the warden does except make important announcements every now and then. And that was what made the warden a more terrifying subject for anyone in Tartarus.
No one knew who or what they were. What they did most of the time and how strong they were. All sorts of rumors circulated about the mysterious warden and all of them shared on point. There was only one warden but somehow, he was always everywhere and once that person appears before a prisoner, no word about them would be heard afterward.
Humans tended to fear what they understood not the most. And it was that type of fear that the warden was able to inspire amongst the crowd by being simply shrouded in a fog of deep mystery.
Grant definitely knew not of what sort of offense one has to commit to make the warden appear before him. And it was not like he wished to meet the man face to face. In fact, Grant wished to stay as far as possible from any other person. Be it, prisoner or prison official.
It didn't take long until the small party of three stopped before a red translucent barrier. Beyond the barrier was the entrance to the interior of the black tower.
'That reminds me... I think Tir should just go back and wait for us...' Grant communicated with Numen mentally. The little god sitting atop Tir's head while munching on a piece of bread finished his meal before burping.
'That was nice... You shouldn't be worried about Tir that much...' Numen casually said to Grant who frowned silently.
'You didn't tell me how Tir managed to follow you into Tartarus undetected but I think I know how he did so...'
'Even if Tir can follow me anywhere without being detected he might still get harmed...' Grant still worried about the child who was earnestly waiting for him to walk forward. Tir stood beside Grant and seemed to be willing to not move an inch unless Grant moves or he gets told to do so.
Tir's eyes were wandering still. Taking in the sights of the passing prisoners who gave them weird looks while admiring the shops. The boy still held the metallic credit card Grant gave to him.
He would be able to buy anything he wished. Well unless it was too expensive.
'Tir uses shadow magic, right? Then it shouldn't be a problem...'
'Even still...'
'You need to have more faith in your kid...'
'That's exactly the point. He's just a small demi-human child and even though he has the talent and some skills it's still too early to take him out.'
'You are so decisive in killing or doing anything that would benefit yourself but here you are. Hesitating whether or not you should take your kid with you when the child himself can easily stand their ground. Your child is a demi-human and could even use shadow magic without having been taught to... The answer is obvious Grant...'
Numen lost his usual upbeat and cheerful tone. His voice still was that of a child but it carried with it seriousness and logical thought. The little god circled Tir, his eyes glazing over the kid as if trying to measure the little kid's strength.
Grant shook his head and cleared his thoughts. He knew well himself that Tir was a rare talent.
Demihumans, even when they are still small children, they possess great innate strength that can even rival regular human adults. Not only that but their bodies recovered stamina and healed at a faster rate.
This particular race in this world, just from the physical aspect alone can already be considered above humans. But there is one thing that they lack.
Magical talent. Demi-humans are blessed with brawns but their affinities towards the elements were quite pathetic to say. Take both a regular human and a demihuman for example.
The human can study magic for ten years despite being average and he can still become a C or B rank magician. Wile even if you give the demihuman the same amount if time, the most they can manage is to become D rank magicians at most. They might not even be able to touch upon the realm of magic throughout their whole life.
Now that's where Tir comes in. He was a true demihuman just like the rest of his race. But this little child already knows how to use a rare type of magic all on his own. He had no teachers nor no books to consult.
Those who can use magic without having been taught to are geniuses in a sense. Their magic talent is unnaturally high as they are attuned to their elements.
'Stop worrying too much about Tir. You are overthinking things...' Numen shook his head, a relieved smile spreading across his face.
Grant merely rolled his eyes.
'Says the good who nearly cried after hearing that I would have to deal with a mandatory B to A rank quest.' Grant mocked and Numen turned beet red. He flew up to Grant's ears and shouted at him in embarrassment.
"Shut up! I-I was just merely thinking about the possible things that you might encounter. We are in the Wynn empire. Meeting dragons aren't too rare here!" Numen punched Grant's cheek. Grant looked at the little god with an eyebrow raised.
'What do you mean?'
'Uh... I'll explain later... Hey did Tir just disappear?' Numen scratched his head and looked around whistling.
Grant froze and his eyes became unnaturally sharp. He soon spotted Tir buying skewers right next to a somewhat pissed of man.
The man was lost in thought, a frown dominating his expression as he ordered food beside the child.
Tir was buying food from a stall while Jack stood beside him.
Numen smiled wryly and Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to avoid Jack as much as possible and now that Tir was near the man, he can't do that any longer.