Flames...
The city was burning, consumed by a raging inferno.
Huge stones of firey death were hurled into the city from the distant hills.
Panic and chaos reigned as people ran through the streets, their screams for help echoing in the air, their desperate pleas directed towards the goddess.
He felt immobilised, unable to move or draw breath. His eyes remained fixated on the scenes of terror unfolding before him.
The knights of the elven empire crashed through the city gate, and his gaze followed their every move.
Their spears pierced the bodies of the elderly and the young, a sight that filled him with anger and disbelief.
A powerless rage flowed through his body with nowhere to vent.
How could these fierce knights resort to dishonourable acts, killing the innocent and defenceless?
The question lingered in his mind, but no answer came.
Filled with desperation, he attempted to reach for a weapon, anything that could aid in protecting those who were unable to fight.
Yet, to his frustration, his body remained rooted, frozen by an unseen force.
"Why?" he questioned inwardly, his voice drowned out by the chaos. "Why can't I move?"
He was a spectator from his position on the silver throne, forced to watch the massacre unfold beneath him.
The lifeless eyes of the victims pleaded for salvation, but he was no god. He felt a deep sense of helplessness, questioning his own identity.
Who was he?
Why did he occupy this silver throne?
He felt a strong sense of importance but couldn't figure out why.
It was frustrating because he had a nagging feeling that there was something he should remember, but his thoughts kept slipping through his fingers like sand.
It was futile; he could not remember.
Once again, as the enemy knights reached his throne, the sky became dark, and a blade penetrated his chest...
"A..u....a."
In his last moment, he cried out a name...
Yet the sound was blocked by the blade dragging out his heart and his body hitting the ground with a thud.
A gentle smile of a beautiful girl, the last image before his vision faded...
***
In a wet, gloomy dungeon filled with cracked, mouldy stone walls and a sludgy mud floor with leftover food and bodily fluids drained into a ditch.
Sitting in the corner was a beautiful young man with silver hair sleeping.
Yet his elegant aura and ethereal beauty could never belong to this dirty dungeon, a place for slaves to wait before being sold for their second time.
An abhorrent fate where they would only fight in the Noble arenas until death or the promised glory.
Sadly, that glory had never come to pass even once...
The boy's eyes flickered open like emerald jewels shining with what little light entered this dark prison, a beautiful and enchanting sight.
His original name was long forgotten and instead given a new identity: Grendel, a Savant from the recently conquered Kingdom of Versace.
"Oh, it's the sleeping prince!" One of the dirty old slaves said with a slightly bitter yet cheerful voice.
"Morning, young lad, how is your wound?" Another buff man asked.
His face looked fierce, but the man was called Derek, and he helped the young Grendel settle into this strange environment.
'It's that damn dream again...'
'The fall of Celeste... is it a mere coincidence?'
'If only I could remember my name... My place in this world.'
He only had a strange silver necklace with a beautiful blue gemstone in the centre. For some reason, It couldn't be removed from his body.
No matter who tried, it would meld with his chest the more someone tried to pry it from his body.
'This thing... I hope it is more than a mere trinket.'
'I fear my time to be called will be soon.'
"Derek, Alan, I am fine—as for the wound... Well, it's healing at least, haha."
Grendel didn't want to cause too much trouble despite the aching pain that continued to shoot through his abdomen and the slight fever. He played it safe to avoid their worry—he couldn't rely on a stranger's kindness forever.
They were all Savants, forbidden freedom and forced to fight until death!
Clack!
The dreaded sound filled the dungeon—it was that time of the week again, causing even Derek to click his tongue in frustration.
He would often be picked because of his tough body, leading to more scars and wounds.
Rarely would Grendel be chosen as his lean muscles were well hidden...
However, the week before, a male noble used him to test his new sword, leading to his fracturing most of his ribs and right arm.
Savants were different from normal slaves, lacking many privileges normally—those with high debt or criminals would become Savants, and the term lasted their entire lives with their right hand tattooed with a black and gold brand.
Grendel looked at his, which was slightly different to the others...
A golden hawk and black spear.
The symbol of the Elven Empire, which was strange as the elves didn't normally create Savants...
'I wonder who I was before coming here...'
Creak!
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The door was pushed open, a cheap wooden door reinforced by a piece of metal that could resist the strength of even an orc.
Two people entered, followed by 10 guards wearing dull iron armour like the guards of a princess...
Rather, there was a princess.
She wore a cute blue hat, long Blonde hair with strange fur around the back, and two blue eyes and looked at the 10 Savants sitting on the ground, some listless while her eyes stopped for the longest time on Derek and strangely...
Her arms were filled with a strange brown fur with sharp claws on end, seeming close to an earthen texture, with two modest C-cup breasts covered with the same brown fur with her soft, creamy stomach completely visible with her abs on display.
Or rather not.
Her gaze was most fixated on Grendel.
He could feel a strange colour in the depths of those eyes, maybe because of his lack of connection to the world, but the emotions and feelings of people became clear the moment he saw their eyes.
'She is feeling lust and desire towards me, but also disdain and disgust. A funny little princess, but that's all.'
A moment, she was passed as she began to discuss something with a strangely dressed woman, a white and black dress with needless frills and deep cleavage.
'Maybe her chaperone?'
'Her eyes look at me with more desire than the princess...'
'No, this woman doesn't even hide her lust.'
'Derek said I was a very beautiful man despite my muscular and powerful body, calling me a "Muscle Fairy" during our rare chance to bathe together.'
'I say bathe... It's just a big wooden tub with cold water... haha.'
"Congratulations, you filthy Savants! The young Princess of the Lionetta Tribe has chosen you all to fight for a chance to become Free men!"
While I was lost in the fantasy, this was all a mistake, and it wouldn't become one of the things we Savants dreaded most...
'But I was wrong.'
The fat slave master bellowed, his eyes looking at Grendel again, causing him to feel a wave of strange anger due to the mish-mash of feelings that didn't make sense and the guilty face he showed each time he looked at him.
'Fear, apprehension, regret and a small hint of admiration.'
"Though... you need to survive the test first!"
'And there it is...'
The same bullshit excuse that Grendel and the others have heard many times. This was not a chance for freedom. It was a hunt...
A hunt in which they were the prey.
'Fuck...'
As he thought this, Derek, Alan and Brian looked at him with the same bitter look.
It was the worst day for me since he awakened as "Grendel" wounded and forced to take part in a hunt.
Grendel was already making plots and ideas in his head. He was in big trouble because all the Savants were pitted against each other.
The so-called every man for himself.
While he was preoccupied, the Princess of the Lionetta Tribe finally spoke; her voice was heroic but soft, and her small lion ears were twitching under her hat.
She seemed to be around 24-25 years old with tight muscles all over her body, most likely a warrior with a well-developed beast core.
"Savant grunts, be gracious! I have taken you all to participate in the annual Lionetta Tribes gathering battle!"
Her eyes were sparkling.
'Joy, pride, excitement and eh? Expectation... from me?'
'Never have I felt the employer feel anything but disdain or mockery towards me...'
'Interesting...'
The slave master clapped his hands, seeming nervous when looking at Grendel before clicking his tongue.
'He seems to feel he made a mistake... What was it? Placing me here or the fact I am here?'
Grendel didn't know who or what he was, but the muscle memory of his body and the things he could do indicate that he had a very high-class upbringing.
Able to read, write, use magic, and wield many weapons.
The Slavemaster and Princess began to fill out the 10 contracts before calling each Savant over to sign them with his or her blood.
A strange voice suddenly whispered in his ear.
[Do you want the power to live a new life?]
'Am I not already living?' He answered calmly while listening intently, his eyes watching Derek and Alan move to sign the form.
[Do you not seek freedom?]
'Can't I gain it by winning the upcoming hunt?'
"Grendel, come and sign the contract!" The pig's ugly voice called him before the last whisper caused him to pause for a single step.
[Not even to survive the Hell you are about to endure?]
The words caused Grendel to hesitate—he couldn't deny that there was nothing to lose right now.
A man with amnesia held as a combat slave by the time he woke up?
What could he possibly have to lose, as even his life was worthless to the nobles who used him?
[I will grant you a chance of freedom; do not waste it.]
He could only laugh bitterly, seeing the strange screen filled with runes that he shouldn't possibly understand a language not from this world!
How could he know?
Because Grendel knew every language spoken by the major tribes of this world and even seemed to have studied the lesser ones.
This language was from somewhere else!
But that was not important... The fact he could read it was!
Slowly, he paced towards the Princess and her knights, his eyes tracing along them. His green eyes seemed to carry a sense of pride... confidence, and lust when gliding over the maid's voluptuous body.
"I don't know my true name, past or what the future holds..."
"But freedom... Well, that sounds great to me!"
In the next movement, the blue screen began to fill with more runes that filled the screen slowly with an easy-to-read font.
==== Sin System ====
Lust Module initialising.....69%
Wrath Module initialising.....33%
Greed Module stalled...0%
Gluttony Module Initialising.....4%
Pride Module Installed...100%
Envy Module Initialising...22%
Sloth Module stalled....0%
[Welcome Savant of Eros]
[Name: Grendel]
[Race: Hybrim (Demon/Spirit)]
[Age: 18]
[Core: Demon/Spirit(Unawakened)
[Status: ???]
===================