"Almost there!" Zephyr exclaimed, collapsing onto the floor, his breath ragged and heavy. Hours of relentless training had taken their toll, leaving him utterly exhausted.
"This damn human body," Zephyr thought with frustration. "It tires so easily. Just a hundred sit-ups, two hundred leg-ups, and some rock lifting, and I'm already spent. Pathetic." He reminisced about his past feats, effortlessly lifting ton-weight rocks and breezing through a thousand sit-ups without feeling fatigued.
"Is this some kind of punishment from the gods?" Zephyr muttered in frustration, his voice tinged with anger. But as quickly as the rage surfaced, he quelled it. "No going back now. Just have to adapt to this situation," he resolved, his tone more composed.
Zephyr decided to do some exercises to strengthen his weakened body, which struggled to support him in his new human form. After what felt like hours of pushing himself through his routine, he finally collapsed, exhausted. As he lay there, he thought about how much he needed to adjust to his new physical limitations.
"Oh, it looks like morning," Zephyr remarked, glancing at the hole in the cave's ceiling that had been revealing the night sky for some time. Now, sunlight streamed through the opening, illuminating the cave.
"Looks like they didn't sleep much, if at all," Zephyr commented, casting a glance at the man with brown hair whose name still eluded him, and the other two figures who remained silent since Zephyr's awakening from his supposed death.
"Yeah, I can see that," the brown-haired man replied.
"So, by the way, you never told me your name," Zephyr said, eager to address the man by something other than 'the brown-haired man.'
"Oh, a name. I actually don't have a name, slaves never are given names" The man said, with a little sadness in his eye.
"Oh, so I'll just give you a name then" Zephyr said thinking of what name he should give the man, after thinking for awhile Zephyr had nothing and just came up with anything the popped in his head. "Browny, how about Browny"
'Really, Zephyr? Is that the best you can come up with?' Zephyr thought to himself, feeling a bit self-conscious about his naming abilities. He reminded himself that naming wasn't his strong suit, recalling a time when he dubbed one of his servants "Servanty" during his reign as the vampire king. So, he decided to cut himself some slack.
"Really, Browny? I can live with that," the man replied, appreciating the gesture. He hadn't been given a name since birth, so Zephyr's attempt meant a lot to him.
"Oh, really? You like the name?" Zephyr asked, genuinely surprised by the man's acceptance. He chuckled inwardly, thinking. 'Well, what can I say? He didn't have a name, so he easily accepted the silly one I came up with.'
"My name's Zephyr, So what's going to happen today?" Zephyr inquired.
"Well, it's time for hell to begin," Browny replied grimly, aware of the challenges awaiting them now that daytime had arrived.
"What do you me..." Zephyr was cut off mid-sentence by a deafening roar that reverberated through the cave, causing pain to his eardrums.
"Rise and shine, you damn maggots!!" Lord's booming voice echoed through the hallway as footsteps reverberated from cell to cell. The cells were arranged in a 10-meter-wide hallway, each side housing the slaves. Positioned in such a way that prisoners from different cells couldn't make eye contact, they were isolated from one another. Passing by a cell, one would have to take about ten steps before reaching another cell on the opposite side of the hallway wall.
The one who shouted strode down the hallway, his footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise silent corridor. All the slaves remained completely quiet in their cells, knowing that any sound could spell trouble. The man walking through the hallway possessed extraordinarily sharp hearing, and they were well aware that even the slightest noise could be detected, leading to dire consequences.
The individual striding down the hallway, instilling fear in the hearts of the slaves, was a male of exceptional build and muscularity. His bald, cleanly shaved head contrasted sharply with his tight-fitting robe and sturdy boots, which resonated heavily with each step. Despite his imposing physical presence, what truly terrified the slaves were his blood-red glowing pupils and unnaturally dried skin, reminiscent of a cold corpse. The combination of his intimidating appearance and unearthly features sent shivers down their spines, rendering them frozen in fear.
The man finally halted his steps upon reaching a particular cell at the end of the hallway, where Zephyr, Browny, and the three other individuals were held captive.
As Zephyr caught sight of the figure on the other side of the cell, his eyes widened in recognition, and he muttered under his breath, "Vampire."
'So, I've encountered one of the supernatural races after my transmigration, and it happens to be the very race I once ruled,' Zephyr thought, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. He contemplated revealing his true identity as the Shadow Lord, their former king, to the bald man. However, after rehearsing it in his mind several times, doubts began to surface.
'I couldn't possibly tell the vampires that I am their king, the Shadow Lord,' Zephyr concluded with a heavy heart. 'They wouldn't believe a word I say. How could their vampire king, Zephyr, become human? They wouldn't trust me for a moment and might even kill me for daring to lie to them.'
As Zephyr delved into his memories, he recalled the ruthless and merciless nature of vampires towards humans. They harbored a deep-seated hatred for humanity, treating them as nothing more than cattle.
The bold vampire smirked before speaking in a dark yet measured tone. "I heard that this particular cell was noisy last night. A loud conversation, perhaps?"
As the vampire gazed into the cell, he locked eyes with Zephyr, who stood defiantly, devoid of fear. In contrast, Browny and the others cowered on the ground, avoiding eye contact with the vampire, fully aware of the dire consequences of drawing his attention.
'Cowards,' Zephyr thought, observing the others' display of weakness. 'Humans will always be humans, even with their advancements. There are still some who remain as weak as before.'
Throughout his time in the cell with Browny and the others, Zephyr had been learning more about human behavior. Each action they took and every conversation he had with Browny provided him with a better understanding of humans. However, he couldn't shake the notion of their inherent weakness, at least among the majority. Yet, he also recalled stories of individuals known as champions, possessing great power and courage, who fought against supernaturals.
There wasn't much Browny had told him about the order of champions, other than they were individuals possessing abilities that matched those of supernaturals, something Zephyr was eager to witness for himself. His memories provided no additional insight, echoing Browny's words.
"Hey, you!" The bald vampire bellowed, his voice echoing in the confined space. He opened the cell bars and stepped inside, positioning himself directly in front of Zephyr. The vampire's movements were swift, almost imperceptible, but Zephyr remained unfazed. He recognized the vampire's attempt to intimidate him and refused to flinch. 'Nice try, you bastard,' Zephyr thought defiantly.
Seeing that Zephyr remained calm and composed, the vampire attempted another tactic.
"You see that dead human over there?" the vampire pointed at the decaying corpse on the floor, maggots feasting on its flesh. The unbearable stench permeated the air, though Zephyr and the others had started to grow accustomed to it after being confined for a day. "He was quite delicious. I drained him of his blood and left him here to rot."
"Well, you did a good job. But why does that concern me?" Zephyr replied mockingly, a smirk playing on his lips as he locked eyes with the vampire. His words infuriated the vampire.
'Oh, he's dead now,' Browny thought, recognizing the familiar scenario. Insult the vampire, end up dead.
"You son of a damn bitch!" the vampire erupted in anger, his face contorted with rage.
****