"Get a move on!" A middle-aged man, his face covered by a strip of cloth spoke sharply, kicking a couple of captives, "Move it, buffoons."
"P-Please, spare us!" One of them, an old man in his late seventies pleaded, hoping to be freed of this torture when a whip slapped his face, causing a large gash mark as the middle-aged man's angry outburst resounded.
"Slaves like you are no longer considered human. You're just meat, get it? Meat!" He lashed out the whip on the ground, shattering a rock from the impact as the sharp sound caused the people to flinch in response.
The group of captives consisted of thirty humans, the majority of which were old people. The remainder were cripples, with none having the capability to fight against the armed guards escorting them.
Even though there were just six armed guards, with the leader being one of them, the captives didn't dare resist. For, all six were Invokers, possessing Human Invoked Spirits at that.
