Zephyrion grunted. He was among others who looked more like the creatures of hell than he, sitting in a cage that moved—a cage on a wagon. Zephyrion's head fell back, ignoring them, and he winced at the tender spot at the back of his head.
What mess was he in now? He cast a glance at the wagon full of demon slaves. That's right. Demon fucking slaves. Demons weren't the only threats he had to face; humans were, too.
Zephyrion's eyes snapped shut at the fuckery that was his life- his second life as it apparently was. That first one was nothing more than pitiful. This one, even though he was a disgusting walking talking fricken lizard, he would make the most of it.
Since waking up, Zephyrion has also had this demon's memories spill into his mind, informing him of helpful information about the world he was in and its creatures. The world of Thraesia is inhabited by many different creatures, most of which are under the thumb of humans.
Zephyrion was at the same age again, nineteen, almost twenty. His life hadn't sucked as severely as the first, but it wasn't full of fricken rainbows and butterflies either. In fact, he'd had enough.
In both lives and worlds, Zephyrion had been treated like that musty old rug in the cottage in the mountains—walked over, spineless, always seeking to please others despite enduring mockery and abuse. There was nothing left for him until he was standing on that bridge, staring into the dark depths of the water, he didn't intentionally jump in the end but that wasn't the point. He felt anger towards those who caused his despair—Sonia, his parents, and the bullies—who made him believe there was nothing left for him in the world.
Nobody had been there to tell him fuck all was right, tell him it would get better. And who was here now? Nobody but himself.
He was done being a spineless doormat. Things were going to change! Now that he'd had his pity party, it was time to figure out how to escape this cage.
Zephyrion glanced at the cage bars again. This was quite the predicament he found himself in, especially after having a life-changing moment and discovering this was his second life.
Zephyrion was not strong, powerful, or had skills to fight with either power or weaponry.
Well, shit. If he would be transmigrated into a new world and body, couldn't he at least be something more powerful than a level four Slinktail- the bottom feeders of demon kind?
✧ ✧ ✧
The wagon continued for a few hours more through different towns. Zephyrion kept a keen eye, scheming to escape the clutches of these humans. In the process, he went through vital information he'd need to know for this new world he was now a part of.
Demons were supposed to possess greater strength than humans; even Slinktails like himself should have been somewhat more robust, even if just a little. However, it was their technology, like this cage, that kept the demons in a weakened state, preventing them from breaking the bars or overpowering the guards outside.
What a shitty outcome. He was a human and now a demon, which apparently wasn't all that powerful in this world. Humans had the upper hand, although he didn't know much about it because this Zephyrion, who he seemed to have possessed the body of, didn't care for much besides his survival. Fair enough, but understanding the world would be helpful right about now.
The wagon finally came to a stop as night fell, and the demons were left in the street. The guards showed no concern about their product and the possibility of it being stolen. After a day—perhaps days—since departing from the mountains, their sole focus was on unwinding and seeking warmth in the brothel across the way or resting in the inn. Meanwhile, the demons withstood the icy temperatures outside.
While this might be true, Zephyrion soon realised that the snowy temperatures did not impact him. In fact, considering he was some kind of lizardman, his body temperature remained notably high. If he were human, his body temperature would have been noted as feverish, but he experienced none of those effects.
Zephyrion's attention flicked to the others, intrigued by their escape attempts. If the ogre-sized demon in the corner was busted up and unable to move, they had no chance of overthrowing the humans. Which was probably why they were trying to sneak away instead.
After observing the others, Zephyrion realised the humans had been tactical when ambushing the demon groups. Everybody in this cage was of similar sizes, small, skinny, and lower-levelled, except for that one demon who hadn't stirred in hours. Was he dead? If he was capable, the demon would have been a major benefit to use. It made his lips twist in annoyance.
He was on the lankier side, more skin and bones than most, however, the Zephyrion, whose identity he had assumed, took pride in his ability to swiftly flee and deftly pilfer from others. They were useless skills to him right now. He required skills that could pick locks. Something the others were currently trying to do with the use of a chicken bone they managed to obtain after hours of manoeuvring a stick to position and angle it to pick the bone up. One sharp chicken bone wasn't helping fools like them without the skills to unlock the cage, though.
It was a waste of energy, something none of them spared. They were all skin and bones, as was most common among level 4 Slinktail demons. Like with humans, there was a hierarchy in demons. Zephyrion held some knowledge of his own kind, at least!
There were four tiers in the demon hierarchy. Zephyrion had no knowledge about what a level 1 demon was, only to stay clear if ever he came across one. He'd never seen a level 2, but Alkazar and the others in the gang were level 3s. What strengths they wielded besides their differences in looks and size, he knew not.
How helpful. Zephyrion's timid nature and mind were beginning to tick him off. This sort of thinking was why others found it easy to bully him.
Although his past life as Seth was pitiful and also about survival, he'd at least tried to require knowledge where he knew it would help. No matter his world or life, knowledge was also power. This is why understanding how to lock pick, a skill Zephyrion, a known thief, should have been exceptional at, would come in handy right now. It seems he was more of a pickpocket than a skilled thief.
How did he last this long? Oh, he didn't because Seth now possessed Zephyrion's body.
No matter. Zephyrion was sure to find another way out of this. He just had to wait for the opportune moment…